Billionaire's Spoiled Contract Wife

Chapter 8

The talk of my so-called husband was all I could think about. The mysterious husband without a face. From what I was able to get out of mom and Care, his name is Chase E. Snyder. He’s twenty-five with a master’s in business, the only son of Wesley P. Snyder and the new CEO of Goliath’s Inc. No one had ever seen him, there’s no picture, no google information other than that.

No one even knew he existed until Mr. Wesley announced his retirement about six months ago. However, everyone other than me is aware of the rift between the Smiths and the Snyders. The rift goes back a few generations and only gets worse over the years. Oddly enough, around the years I was adopted. Supposedly neither family business started out legally and had experienced a few turf wars. When both went corporate, the war extended and became more about who can outmaneuver major deals from under the other.

The background between the families sounded simple enough, at least for families in our world. However, something was off. There were missing pieces to this story, especially the recent ones. Mom refused to give more details but from her demeanor I know there’s a mountain more details and information behind the drama. I might be oblivious to things that don’t concern me but when it does, and I’m sober I notice everything.

She might think that I didn't notice or understand that she was hiding a lot but the trickle of sweat on her forehead when she overthinks what she’s allowed to tell me, the way her laugh squeaks just a tad when she’s nervous, how she tugs an imaginary hair in the back of her ear when she’s close to lying but deflects instead and how she pinches the pressure point between her thumb and index finger.

These were all signs that I've seen and etched into my memories. I might be brutally honest, with no f's given but I never expected the same from others. Instead, I learned and memorized the signs to never be fooled by their lies. There was still one person I couldn't figure out and he was the one I was mostly worried about. If I couldn't trust him then I couldn't trust anyone.

Shaking off that thought, I went to the second one ahead. I wished I could find out more about their history. Ever since I was a kid, my parents kept their family background on the hush. Even though mom’s side of the family eventually warmed up to me, dad's family was a different story. Once his father passed down the company to him, they all just disappeared. My adoption had a lot to do with it but there was already tension there.

I remembered how I researched the Smith family’s history when I turned fifteen. A part of it was out of curiosity, and the majority of it was for understanding. Understanding their hatred of me and those that looked like me. Understanding of why they were shunning my parents for taking me in. Understanding of what life they lived and what trauma they faced to make them become who and how they were. Everyone has a story, I just wanted to know and understand theirs.

I didn’t find much but what I did made me regret ever having the idea. The Smiths were one of the biggest known families in the state, now I found out the Snyders are just as highly known. Anyways, everyone knew the history other than me, they weren’t just slave owners in the good ol’ days but still abide by the Klan’s beliefs and principles. No reason was provided, I don't believe none was needed.

Yeah, I was better off not knowing. Especially when there were pictures to prove the point. I’m not even going into details about that one. After that, I promised myself to never research anything about anyone close to me again. Can’t lie and say I didn’t find myself tempted to do so about my birth parents and their families, but my major substance issues always steered me away. Hopefully, I'll never regret it.

I was in and out of my thoughts at work. One moment it was slow and the next hectic past the brim. Winter coming in, meant hockey season starting and the high season of football. Which means a lot of angry spouses which unfortunately leads to battered spouses. It's only late October, it was just the beginning yet we were already past our quota. I'll never understand the logic behind the obsession and anger that'll lead someone to abuse another, especially over a stupid game.

“Ms. Smith, we have a new intake. Would you mind processing her”?

“Of course, Mrs. Jones. Let me wash up real quick.”

“Don’t take long dear, she seems to be a flight risk”

Working here over the last few months has thought me a few things. Life sucks and people suck even more. The Smith shelter not only house and provide for the homeless, but it also does the same to battered spouses, and addicts. With the extension, we’ve been able to add more rooms and programs. Along with that extension, we’ve been receiving more people in need and with the sports fiasco being in full effect the battered spouse section has been going through the roof.

Now that I’m on a five-day schedule, I’m all over the place. From the kitchen, maintenance, and secretarial to the therapist. So far, I like everything but maintenance. However, the people that come through those doors and the trauma they’ve dealt with are overwhelming, but I find myself enjoying being here and being of help. I’ve never had a job before, didn’t need one and I only went to college to make my parents happy.

I was smart enough to skip a few grades and get a full scholarship for engineering but was too lazy to finish. Instead, I changed my major to psychology, got licensed as a clinical psychologist, and received my Ph.D. a month before my mini disappearance. Never understood what drew me to it nor what pushed me to finish it. Working here makes me happy that I did.

Dealing with our new intake took longer than expected. Even though her situation was severe, and she had two young kids, it took a lot of convincing to get her to stay at least for the night. Another thing I'll never understand, staying and fighting to stay with someone who abuses you and your kids. Making excuses for those who belittle and look down on you as a sign of love while they're worse off than you. It's not my place to judge but I'll never understand it.

After talking to the lady and getting as much information as she was willing to give, I personally walked her to her room and went to get her and the kid's food and clothes. The poor kids look like they haven't eaten in months, let alone showered. I felt more for them than the mother. They didn't have a choice in the life forced upon them. It was unfair and cruel, yet this was life.

Just as I’m walking out of one of our donation closets, I bumped into a wall. A hard muscular wall.

“Hello wife”

Looking up at the person in front of me had me lost. Those eyes were the first thing I noticed. It’s him!

Even with the loose man bun, a five o’clock shadow, and jogging attire he looked like he just walked out of some high fashion men's catalog. Piercing light forest green eyes, an oval-shaped face with a square jawline, full lips, two sets of dimples, and that California surfer tan skin look that did not belong in this Michigan frost. The man was in a category all on his own. To be that fine should be a crime.

“Really now, you’re just going to run from me again and then pretend not to know me.”

I know he’s standing in front of me but there’s no way he’s possibly talking to me. I barely met the man once. Just a brief encounter. One memorable encounter nonetheless.

“Kaylene Anita Smith-Snyder”

“Excuse me, uhm it’s Smith and who are you using my government name out loud like that?”

He smiled and I swear my legs weren’t the only thing ready to give out from under me. I had to try my hardest not to reach out to my chest for support. My heart felt like it would burst out of my chest at any second. I don't like this feeling, it's too new and raw for my liking.

“No, my love. It’s also Snyder once you married me. Never could understand why you wanted to hyphenate it with that god-awful Smith.”

“Sir, do you need to see one of our counselors cause obviously you’re on something.”

“That mouth of yours, don’t know if I should kiss it or bite it. Maybe both will do.”

I can’t lie that turned me on way more than it should. What the hell was going on with me right now?