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Author: Olly Dy
last update Last Updated: 2025-01-08 20:46:51

Outside the state’s judiciary residence, where Mr. Justin, Chief Justice of [State Branch], resided, the street was eerily quiet. Raymond and Henry sat in their car, the engine humming faintly, both smoking in contemplative silence. Raymond flicked his cigarette out of the window, nodding to Henry.

“Let’s do this,” Raymond muttered as he stepped out of the car.

The two approached the grand yet modest house, its white exterior showing the slight wear of time. Henry knocked sharply, the sound echoing in the silence. After a moment, the door creaked open, revealing a middle-aged woman with tired eyes. Mrs. Juliana, Mr. Justin’s wife, stood there, her face creasing into a slight frown.

“Can I help you?” she asked cautiously, her gaze darting between the two men.

“We’re here to see Mr. Justin,” Raymond replied, attempting a polite tone.

Mrs. Juliana hesitated but eventually stepped aside. “Come in. He’s in his study.”

They followed her through a polished hallway, where old photographs and
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  • The Loveless Contractive Marriage   03

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Latest chapter

  • The Loveless Contractive Marriage   43

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  • The Loveless Contractive Marriage   42

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  • The Loveless Contractive Marriage   41

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  • The Loveless Contractive Marriage   40

    Third person's POV The man didn’t get far before Grandpa Edward Audrey’s men tackled him to the ground after a wild chase down the hood. A sharp gun butt to the head silenced his struggle, leaving him sprawled on the pavement. Moments later, another SUV screeched to a halt nearby, and the men roughly dragged the intruder into the vehicle before peeling off toward Nia’s place.Back at the scene, Grandpa Edward Audrey stood composed, Zia nervously at his side, while one of his enforcers, a stocky man with a cigar clenched between his teeth, approached. “We’ve got him,” the man said gruffly. “What now?”“Interrogate him,” Grandpa replied coldly. “Make sure he talks. I want everything.”Turning to Zia, he motioned toward a sleek black SUV parked a few steps away. “Get in,” he said. “Let’s get that drink.” Without waiting for a reply, he climbed into the vehicle, and Zia hesitated briefly before following, her mind racing with unease.The bar was dead silent, a hole in the wall that scr

  • The Loveless Contractive Marriage   39

    Third Person’s POVNia’s place was a damn pit—a cramped room with mismatched furniture, ashtrays overflowing with cigarette butts, and the faint stench of spilled booze and stale sweat. The kind of place where the air felt thick with stories no one wanted to tell.Zia sat on a lumpy couch, her knees pulled to her chest, glancing sideways at Nia and Mira. The two hadn’t said much since Mira arrived, their awkward silence heavier than the smoke clouding the room. Mira flipped through an old magazine like it owed her money, while Nia cleaned her nails with the edge of a battered pocketknife, looking bored as hell."You two gonna act like strangers all night?" Zia asked, breaking the quiet.Mira snorted. “Ask your sister. She’s the one with the attitude.”Nia didn’t even look up. “Don’t come in here acting like you know me, princess. This is my space, not your high-rise drama.”“Alright, alright, enough,” Zia said, her voice low but firm. “I didn’t come here to babysit your beef. We’ve

  • The Loveless Contractive Marriage   38

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  • The Loveless Contractive Marriage   37

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  • The Loveless Contractive Marriage   36

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  • The Loveless Contractive Marriage   35

    Third Person's POVFive Years AgoThe streets were a labyrinth of cracked asphalt, broken glass, and desperate souls. Zia sprinted down a narrow alley, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her feet pounding the ground as if her life depended on it—which it did. She clutched a small packet of snuffed narcotics tightly in her hand, its weight burning into her palm like a brand.Behind her, a chorus of angry shouts echoed through the labyrinth. Junkie girls, lean and fierce, barreled after her like a pack of predators. Their leader, a wiry figure with sharp features and a cruel smile, stood at the entrance of the alley, her arms crossed. She didn’t run; she didn’t need to.“Zia!” the leader’s voice cut through the chaos like a blade. “You really think you can outrun me? Not on my streets.”Zia’s legs burned, but she pushed on, refusing to look back. She knew what awaited her if they caught up, but the hope of escape was quickly fading. The narrow path ended in a pile of garbage and rusted

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