The Transaction Bride Novel by Aurora _ Novel





The Transaction Bride Chapter 01

Chloe Sterling was the most unruly wild rose in the military compound.
With a slender waist and long legs, she was as bright as a ball of fire, yet of all people, she had married the most disciplined and ascetic major general in the military district, Victor Vance.
In their third year of marriage, Chloe kept it a secret from everyone and went alone to the county clerk's office to file for a contested divorce.
In the section for the reason for divorce, Chloe didn't hesitate to write down a few words:
[Impotent, unable to satisfy his wife's physical needs.]
The clerk leaned in for a look, eyes instantly widening into saucers, face flushing red with a mix of shock and embarrassment: "Ma'am! You... you can't just write nonsense like this! General Victor Vance is..."
"What?"
Chloe raised her eyes, her beautiful alluring eyes devoid of emotion. "Can't I write the truth?"
She knew why the clerk was so shocked.
Victor, a twenty-eight-year-old army major general with a prominent family background, tall with long legs and a handsome face, was the famous Grim Reaper of the military district. He was also an unattainable god in the hearts of countless people; calling him impotent was simply pure fantasy.
But she didn't care anymore. He had hurt her so deeply, so thoroughly, that starting a rumor about him just this once was perfectly justifiable.
She signed her name and pushed the form back: "Process it as soon as possible, thank you."
Holding the receipt, Chloe turned and left, her back straight, without a single trace of reluctance.
Stepping out of the county clerk's office, it was still early. She didn't go home, but headed straight to the biggest dance hall in the city.
Chloe walked up to the bar, ordered the strongest liquor, and then pulled a thick stack of cash from her small leather purse.
"Whoosh—"
She flicked her wrist, and hundred-dollar bills fluttered down like snowflakes, covering half the dance floor.
The dance hall instantly fell silent, everyone staring at her in stunned disbelief.
"Pick it up."
Chloe raised her glass, swirling it at the air, a reckless smile curving her lips. "I got divorced today, and I'm thrilled! Share the wealth!"
After a brief silence, the crowd erupted into a frenzy!
Men and women alike bent down to snatch the money, their gasps and laughter blending into a chaotic uproar.
A few bold men sauntered over, their eyes eagerly fixed on Chloe's bright and captivating face: "Hey gorgeous, are you alone? Care for some company and a few drinks? To celebrate your return to the single life?"
Chloe tilted her head back and downed a large gulp of liquor. The spicy liquid burned her throat, but she found it exhilarating.
She flashed a sweet smile at the men, her gaze flowing with a hint of drunkenness and detachment: "Today, I have no interest in men. When I'm interested someday, then... just wait for my call."
She set down her glass, grabbed her purse, and swayed gracefully out of the dance hall amidst a sea of envious, stunned, and probing stares.
The early autumn wind blew against her face, carrying a chill that made her feel incredibly sober.
At this moment, she finally felt like she had returned to her true self—the fearless, wildly flamboyant Chloe.
Five years ago, she was just like this.
After her mother committed suicide by jumping off a building when she was sixteen, her father married her stepmother in less than half a year.
The stepmother appeared gentle on the surface, but secretly tripped her up at every turn, scheming to drive the ex-wife's daughter out of the house.
Chloe had a fiery temper; how could she ever swallow such grievances?
She fought her stepmother tooth and nail every single day.
One day she would cut her stepmother's most cherished little black dress into shreds, the next she would dump a handful of salt into her tea, and the day after she would toss all the luxury health hampers sent from her parents' home straight into the gutter.
She turned the military compound upside down, becoming the wild rose that gave everyone a headache.
Her father, General Robert Sterling, felt his blood pressure spike from her antics. Finally reaching his breaking point, he slammed his hand on the table: "I can't control you anymore! I'll find someone who can!"
And just like that, with a wave of his hand, he married her off to Victor.
Chloe's heart turned to ice.
She had long heard of Victor, the youngest, most promising, and ruthlessly strict officer in the military region. Every single soldier under his command feared him; his training regimes were known to peel the skin right off a man's back.
She thought, I'm doomed. Her future days would likely be worse than solitary confinement—nothing but a bitter, resentful couple, sick of the very sight of each other.
Yet, things unfolded in a way no one expected.
After they married, instead of disciplining her, Victor spoiled her beyond measure.
When she was pulled over for speeding, one phone call brought him down in person to pick her up. He simply told the police, "I'll educate my family," then brought her safely home without a single harsh word.
When she clashed with someone from the Army Arts Ensemble and pushed them off the stage, causing a massive uproar, he stepped in to smooth things over—and didn't forget to ask her, "Did you hurt your hand pushing them?"
When she complained about the awful food in the military canteen and scaled the wall at midnight to find snacks, he wrote an apology letter on her behalf, took her punishment by running twenty laps around the field, and even brought her a steaming bowl of tortellini when he came home that night.
The moment that touched her most was after a massive blowout with her father, where he screamed, "You're a lunatic, just like your mother!" She had slammed the door and run all the way to her mother's tombstone.
With rain and tears mingling on her face, she cried her heart out, feeling as though the entire world had abandoned her.
She didn't know how long she wept before the rain above her suddenly stopped.
Looking up, she saw a black umbrella, and beneath it stood Victor in his military uniform.
He just stood there in silence, holding the umbrella over her, shielding her from the storm.
For as long as she knelt before her mother's grave, he held that umbrella.
Finally, he bent down, his voice low but clear over the sound of the rain: "Get up. Let's go home."
Her legs were too numb to stand, so he carried her on his back, walking down the mountain step by step through the mud.
That night, as he was drying her hair, one thing somehow led to another, and they ended up tumbling into bed.
In the hazy heat of passion, he kissed the corners of her eyes and whispered, "Chloe, you don't need to use arrogance to hide your vulnerability anymore. I'm here. With me, you're allowed to cry, and my shoulder is always here for you to lean on. You can cause all the trouble you want, and whatever you do, I'll be right there with you."
In that moment, the years of grievance, loneliness, and the tough facade Chloe had built up came crashing down.
With tears in her eyes, she leaned in and kissed him, clinging to him tightly like a drowning woman catching a lifeline.
That night, the two of them tangled together like two burning flames, loving each other with reckless abandon.
From then on, Chloe's heart completely surrendered.
She fell deeply in love with this man—cold and hard on the outside, yet boundlessly tolerant and indulgent toward her.
She stopped making trouble for her stepmother and earnestly tried to learn how to be a proper soldier's wife.
Even though she had been pampered since childhood and was terrified of pain, she gritted her teeth and went to the military hospital every month to donate blood—because Victor said it was the duty and sacrifice expected of a soldier's wife.
She thought that after her mother died, she had finally found someone who had eyes only for her, someone she could truly rely on.
That was until a few days ago, when she went to donate blood again.
Afterward, she felt terribly dizzy and sat in the lounge for a long time to recover.
As she was about to leave, she passed the doctor's office. A familiar voice drifted through the ajar door—it was Victor.
She instinctively reached out to push the door open, but then she heard another voice. It was her father.
"Victor," Robert's voice carried a tone of satisfaction and profound relief, "you really are something, actually making that rebellious daughter of mine fall in love with you. She hasn't caused any trouble for Linda in months. The house is finally peaceful, and it's all thanks to you."
Victor's voice was flat and emotionless: "Don't mention it. Robert, we had a deal. We each get what we need."
"The woman I love has hemophilia, and Chloe is the only matching blood type. I came to you, asking you to persuade her to donate blood. Your condition was for me to marry her, saying that as long as she fell in love with me, she would listen to me. You said she would listen if I told her to stop bothering her stepmother, and she would listen if I made up an excuse to get her to donate blood."
"Now," he paused, his tone remaining completely flat, "your household is at peace, and Eleanor Geller has a stable blood supply."
Robert was clearly satisfied with this mutually beneficial arrangement, his tone lightening up: "Yes, yes, this is for the best. But Victor, that daughter of mine might not have any other skills, but she definitely inherited her mother's face. She's been a magnet for attention since she was little, and the boys chasing her could form a long line. Facing her day in and day out... haven't you ever been even a little tempted?"
A few seconds of silence passed.
Victor finally spoke, his voice as cool and detached as ever: "Robert, you must be joking."
"Eleanor and I have known each other since we were young. Our hearts belong to one another."
"If it weren't for Eleanor's illness, and the fact that she needs Chloe's blood every month..."
"The only woman I would ever marry is Eleanor."
"And never Chloe."

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