Billionaire's Choice

Jonathan’s POVI walked inside La Mer that evening, automatically scanning the room to look for the associates I came to have a meeting with.We’d agreed to meet here for a reason. Some deal was going down, and it wasn’t the kind of thing you wanted to talk about over the phone or in an office. I saw a couple of suited men sitting at a table and I immediately thought it was then so I walked over, but as I moved closer, I realized they weren’t the ones I was meeting.I let out a sigh, taking a seat at the nearest available table. No point in walking around like a lost dog looking for the right group. Besides, I was early anyway, so I just had to wait.I pulled out my phone and quickly shot off a message to Gabriel. “Meeting starting soon. Anything you need me to bring up?”Gabriel was always on top of things. When he wanted something on the table, you’d know before the first word left his mouth. The man could be ruthless when he needed to be, but he didn’t waste time with unnecessary d

Aria's POVThe last table of the night had just left, and La Mer’s dining room was finally quiet. I stood near the service counter, tying and untying my apron as my thoughts raced. Jonathan’s offer hadn’t left my mind all day.$10,000. A fake marriage. It sounded unreal. Like something that happens out of a movie. Too big to ignore but way too messy to agree to without thinking it through.I reached into my bag and pulled out the navy blue business card Jonathan had given me. His name and number were printed in bold, classy lettering. I just stared at it for a moment, wondering what kind of man could casually throw this kind of deal at a stranger.With a deep breath, I took out my phone and started typing in the number. My hands hesitated as I saved the contact.Jonathan Greene.Finally, I opened a blank message and began typing:"I've been thinking about your offer. There are some complications. Can we talk about the details?"I paused, re-read the text twice, and then hit send.I tu

I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the veil for the hundredth time. The dress fit perfectly, of course, nothing less was expected when the Deveraux family was footing the bill. There wasn’t a single flaw in the arrangements. It was all flawless. Too flawless for a marriage that didn’t feel real.I barely knew Gabriel. Sure, I knew his reputation; cold, ruthless, and every bit the businessman his family had raised him to be. But as a husband? That was laughable. This wasn’t about love, after all.The knock on the door came right on schedule. “It’s time,” a female maid said.Time to become Mrs. Deveraux. Not because I wanted to, but because I had to. Grandma Helen’s plea still echoed in my mind: “You’re the only one who can save this family, Aria.”As I sat in the backseat of the sleek black maybach with Gabriel beside me, the memory hit me like a wave. It wasn’t something I thought about often, but today, on the day I was marrying into this whirlwind of a family, I couldn’t help

Mexico City, Three Years Ago9:45 PM, The Gran Palacio BallroomGabriel tugged at the cuffs of his black wool double-breasted peak lapel tuxedo, more out of habit than necessity. Around him, the glittering ballroom buzzed with conversation, the kind of polished, calculated talk he had grown used to over the years.This was his world: annual galas, endless schmoozing, and deals that shaped skylines. As the CEO of the largest real estate firm in San Francisco, being here was less about choice and more about duty. Tonight, the focus was on expanding their footprint into Latin America, but Gabriel’s mind was far from the logistics of skyscrapers and property lines.“…we’re better off delaying the deal until the second quarter,” Jonathan was saying, his tone calm and practical.Gabriel nodded absently, barely processing the words. His attention had shifted the moment he heard an arresting, velvety voice. It wasn’t loud, not enough to disrupt the steady hum of conversations around them. But

Gabriel sat by the large windows in his penthouse, staring out at the city lights without really seeing them. He’d bought the place as a home base for his trips to Mexico, a convenient spot for work as his company expanded into Latin America. His phone sat on the table beside a half-empty glass of wine, untouched for the last hour.He paced the length of the room, one hand in his pocket while the other ran absently through his hair. Restless energy coursed through him, unusual for someone so composed. He glanced at his phone for the third time in the last five minutes, the screen lighting up to show nothing but the time. No messages. No calls.Antonia had only taken his number, promising to call when she felt ready. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now, the waiting was driving him crazy.The hours since the gala felt like a blur. He hadn’t been able to shake the memory of her. The way her voice carried a subtle warmth, the elegance in how she carried herself. She wasn’t