BILLIONAIRE'S RUNAWAY BRIDE

Chapter 1: A House That Isn’t Home I learned early that this house only tolerated me when I was useful. The floorboards outside my room creaked in a way that told me who was awake. Heavy steps meant my uncle. Sharp, impatient ones meant my aunt. Light, deliberate steps—almost mocking—belonged to my cousin. I lay still on my thin mattress, counting the cracks on the ceiling, waiting for the sounds to pass. Mornings were the safest. Everyone was too busy being tired to notice me. I slipped out of my room quietly, barefoot, careful not to step on the loose nail near the hallway wall. The kitchen smelled like old oil and last night’s alcohol. My uncle’s empty bottle lay on the table, tipped on its side like it had given up trying to stand. I washed the dishes he’d left behind. Again. The water was cold, numbing my fingers, but I preferred that to being seen doing nothing. In this house, rest was a crime I couldn’t afford. “Still alive?” My aunt’s voice came from behind me. Flat. Di

Chapter 3: The Drunkard’s Debt The bottle hit the table before the door finished closing. That sound meant my uncle was drunk enough to be careless—and careless enough to be honest. He stumbled inside, jacket half-falling off his shoulders, the sharp smell of alcohol filling the room. My aunt followed him, her face already tight with anger. “You promised,” she snapped. “You said today you’d fix it.” He laughed, low and ugly. “Fix what? Money doesn’t grow just because you nag it.” “The supplier called again,” she said. “They’re pulling out. If that happens, the business is done.” He poured himself another drink. “Let them.” “They won’t,” she said. “They’ll take everything.” That made him pause. I stood near the wall, hands clasped in front of me, trying to make myself small. I didn’t know why my chest felt tight yet—but it did. “There’s an investor,” my uncle said finally. My aunt stiffened. “An investor?” “Big one,” he replied, smirking. “Powerful.” “And what does he wan

Chapter 5 The Bargain I wasn’t meant to hear it. That was how these things always happened—truths spoken freely only because no one thought I mattered enough to listen. I was in the hallway, carrying a basket of folded laundry, when my uncle’s voice drifted out of the living room. Low. Sober in a way that made my skin prickle. I stopped. “I told you,” he said. “He agreed to the terms.” My aunt answered, quieter. “And he won’t change his mind?” “He doesn’t change his mind,” my uncle replied. “That’s what makes him reliable.” The word reliable sat wrong in my chest. I should have walked away. I knew that. But my feet wouldn’t move. “There are conditions,” my aunt said. “Of course there are,” my uncle scoffed. “Men like him don’t buy without rules.” Buy. My fingers tightened around the basket. “He wants the marriage registered immediately,” my uncle continued. “No delays. No engagement period. No chance for rumors to start.” “And the girl?” my aunt asked. There was a pause

Chapter 7 Locked Away The lock sounded final. Not loud. Not dramatic. Just a dull, metallic click that sank into my chest and stayed there. I stood frozen in the middle of the room, staring at the door as if it might open again if I waited long enough. It didn’t. The handle didn’t turn. The wood didn’t creak. Nothing moved. I was alone. My uncle had pushed me inside without looking at me, his hand rough on my arm. My aunt followed, carrying the key. She didn’t hesitate when she slid it into the lock. She didn’t even sigh. “This is for your own good,” she said, already turning away. I rushed forward and grabbed the door before it fully closed. “Please,” I whispered, my fingers curling around the edge. “I won’t run. I swear.” My aunt looked at my hand like it disgusted her. She slapped it away and shut the door hard. “Don’t be stupid,” she said through the wood. “Do you know how much he’s paying?” The key turned. Once. Twice. Each rotation sounded heavier than the last.

I didn’t eat.The tray sat untouched on the floor long after the sun had disappeared, the food growing cold, the smell turning sour. My stomach twisted painfully—not from hunger alone, but from fear. From the knowledge that this was my last night as myself.Tomorrow, I would belong to someone else.My body shook as I sat on the edge of the bed, arms wrapped tightly around myself. Tears blurred my vision until the walls melted into shadows. I cried silently at first, biting my lip so hard it hurt, but the sobs eventually broke free, raw and uncontrollable.I couldn’t do this.I couldn’t wear the dress.I couldn’t marry him.