Contract Marriage with My CEO Boss (Kylan and Katrina) novel Chapter 114

The morning sun peeked through the pale curtains of the bedroom, casting soft golden light across the bed where Kylan and Katrina lay tangled in each other’s arms. The air still carried the scent of last night’s intimacy—a messy, carefree celebration of their love that ended with them laughing breathlessly, their faces pressed close together. Katrina stirred first, brushing a strand of dark hair away from her face as she smiled at the sight of Kylan, still sound asleep.

She trailed her fingers lightly across his chest, tracing one of the scars he’d earned years ago from his disturbing past.

Kylan had grown so much in the past few years. From being trapped in his guilt and grief to finding strength and purpose in healing and self-forgiveness. From being afraid to take risks in love to being a wonderful father and husband.

He groaned softly, cracking one eye open.

“Morning,” he murmured, voice gravelly and warm.

“Morning,” she replied, leaning down to kiss him. The kiss was unhurried, their lips moving together with a familiar rhythm that spoke of years of shared life. His hand came up to cup her cheek, pulling her closer.

Katrina pulled back slightly, resting her forehead against his.

"What are you thinking about?" Kylan asked.

She shook her head slightly. "I was just thinking about how much you changed for the better. And I am very thankful for that."

Kylan's lips curled into a small smile before he kissed her forehead. "It was all thanks to you."

"You mean, thanks to me for confusing you?" Katrina teased. "Just for kissing my forehead?"

Kylan chuckled. "It was hard not to kiss you hard during those times."

Katrina couldn't help smiling from ear to ear. It didn't matter how many years they were as a married couple. She would still feel giddy whenever Kylan talked about how he was falling in love with her. And in his vocabulary, falling in love so hard.

"Think we can stay in bed a little longer?” Katrina asked as she resettled on Kylan's chest.

Kylan chuckled. “We both know that’s a fantasy.”

Almost on cue, a shrill giggle broke the quiet, and they turned to see Clarence standing at the door in her brightly colored pajamas, holding a stuffed bunny by its ear.

“Mama! Dada! Bun bun!”

Katrina chuckled, reluctantly pulling away from Kylan. “Looks like duty calls.”

“Every time,” Kylan joked, stretching and sitting up. He gave Clarence an exaggeratedly stern look. “You’re lucky you’re cute, baby.”

Clarence giggled again, darting forward and leaping onto the bed. “Tickle tickle!” she squealed, launching her tiny self at Kylan.

Kylan and Katrina looked at each other with wide eyes. It was another new word from Clarence!

“Oh no, not the tickle monster!” Kylan cried dramatically, grabbing her mid-air and burying his face in her neck to blow raspberries. Clarence shrieked with laughter, squirming in his grasp. Katrina sat back, laughing at the sight of the two of them rolling around.

“Alright, alright,” Katrina said after a moment, reaching for Clarence. “Let’s give Daddy a break before we break him.”

The family made their way to the kitchen, where the morning routine unfolded like a familiar dance. Kylan whisked eggs while Katrina prepared toast, both of them stealing glances at each other and trading lighthearted banter. Clarence, perched on her high chair, alternated between trying to drink her milk but had it spilled over her and trying to butter a piece of toast with more enthusiasm than precision.

“Dada, look!” Clarence exclaimed, showing off her butter-laden masterpiece.

“Michelangelo would be jealous,” Kylan declared, ruffling her hair.

Katrina smirked. “Just wait until she discovers glitter. Then we’ll really have masterpieces everywhere.”

“Don’t remind me,” Kylan muttered with mock horror.

After breakfast, the three of them settled into the living room. Clarence insisted on showing off her latest drawing—an ambitious crayon masterpiece of the three of them holding hands under a bright yellow sun. It was all a circle of a head, dots for eyes and mouth, and lines for the limbs but it was easy to identify who was Mommy, Daddy, and Clarence.

“Wow,” Katrina said, genuinely impressed. “You’re getting so good at this.”

Kylan nodded in agreement, pulling Clarence into his lap. “You’ve got talent, kid. We’re gonna have to frame this one.”

Clarence beamed, her tiny arms wrapping around Kylan’s neck in a tight hug. Katrina watched them with a smile that came from somewhere deep and unshakable, feeling grateful for moments like this—a tangible proof of the life they’d built together.

Later, as Clarence played with her toys on the carpet, Katrina sat on the couch with her legs draped over Kylan’s lap. He absentmindedly traced circles on her ankle while they watched their daughter, occasionally exchanging knowing glances.

“Do you ever stop and think,” Katrina murmured, “about how lucky we are?”

Kylan looked at her, his gaze soft. “All the time.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder. “I wouldn’t trade this for anything.”

“Me neither,” he said, his voice steady and certain. “You and Clarence? You’re my everything.”

Their moment was interrupted when Clarence tugged on Kylan’s hand. “Dada, tea!”

“Tea party, huh?” He grinned. “Can I be the king this time?”

“No, butwer!” Clarence said with confidence that only a child could muster.

Kylan threw Katrina a helpless look. “I’m always the butler.”

“You wear it well,” Katrina teased, watching as Kylan was pulled to the floor by Clarence’s tiny hand.

Katrina joined them a moment later, and soon the three of them were immersed in an elaborate tea party, complete with imaginary cookies and pretend accents. Laughter filled the room, a melody of joy and togetherness.

As the day unfolded, the rhythms of their family life continued—little moments stitched together into something beautiful and whole.

~O~O~O~

Katrina peeked over from the kitchen, smiling. “Looks like you’ve got a fan already.”

Isabella managed a small laugh, stroking Clarence’s soft hair. “She’s sweet.”

“She’s a cuddle bug, that one,” Katrina said, stirring the pot on the stove.

Clarence suddenly sat up and pointed to a bookshelf in the corner. “Book!”

“You like stories?” Isabella asked.

Clarence nodded enthusiastically.

“Pick one out, sweetheart,” Katrina called from the kitchen.

Clarence slid off the couch and trotted over to the bookshelf, selecting a picture book. She brought it back to Isabella, holding it up with a grin.

Isabella smiled for the first time that day. “Okay, let’s read.”

After finishing the story, Katrina walked over with a tray of tea, rice pudding, and medication. She gently set it on Isabella’s lap and brushed a lock of hair from her face. “You need to rest,” she said kindly.

Isabella blushed, unused to such care. “Thank you,” she murmured.

“You’re welcome,” Katrina said, tucking a blanket around her. “Take these first.” She handed Isabella the medication and placed a cool pack on her forehead.

Clarence climbed onto Katrina’s lap and began to clap her hands. Katrina joined in, singing a soft melody. Clarence giggled, her laugh a bright, contagious sound that made Isabella’s heart ache.

This is what it looks like to have someone who cares, Isabella thought. For so long, she’d envied Katrina—her warmth, her family, her seemingly perfect life. But today, she couldn’t hate her. Not when Katrina had gone out of her way to make Isabella feel like she mattered.

“Thank you for looking after me,” Isabella said softly, her voice thick with emotion.

Katrina smiled warmly. “You’re part of the family, Isabella. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

As Katrina cleaned up, Clarence toddled over to Isabella one last time. She leaned in and kissed Isabella’s hand before patting her head. “Bye-bye!”

Isabella chuckled weakly. “Bye, Clarence.”

Katrina appeared in the doorway, her bag slung over her shoulder. “Get some rest, okay? Call if you need anything.”

Isabella nodded, her heart unexpectedly lighter. “Thank you, Katrina. For everything.”

Katrina winked. “That’s what family is for.”

As the door closed behind them, Isabella stared at the now-quiet apartment. For the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel quite so alone.