FALLING FOR MY FIANĆE’S SON

DIANNE

I didn’t mean to sleep with a stranger. Again.

I meant to run. To escape. To save what little was left of my freedom before it was sold off in a marriage deal I didn’t agree to. But that kiss on the rooftop… His mouth on mine, the taste of tequila and something more dangerous- I didn't stop it. I couldn't.

I was supposed to be getting away, putting miles between me and the life waiting to trap me.

But instead, I got distracted..

And now, I can’t stop replaying it. His hands. His voice. His body. The way he looked at me like I was the most beautiful girl he'd ever met, I couldn't deny him my body.

And now we were here, tangled, sweaty, breathless, taking in the cool night breeze as we dried off eventually.

I should’ve closed my eyes and let myself have this. Just this. A fleeting moment under someone else's skin before the world clawed me back.

But my father’s voice cut through like a blade.

"Your grandfather built this university brick by brick, Dianne. If it crumbles now, so does everything he stood for."

I’d made up my mind. I was leaving. Not just the house—but everything.

I wasn’t going to trade what little I had left of myself for a crumbling legacy. Not anymore.

My sister was supposed to be the one to carry the cross, but she left. No note, no goodbye—just disappeared. I thought she was selfish.

But now, I finally got it and I was following in her footsteps.

Astor University—our family’s crown jewel—was bleeding money.

My father saw me as the bandage and I wasn't about to be one.

Why couldn’t he figure it out himself? Why did I have to be the one carrying the cross while he sat back like it wasn’t his mess?

No.

The Wilsons had power, but no legacy. We had a legacy and no money. So, naturally, I became the trade.

Marriage to some fifty-something businessman I hadn’t even met. That was the deal.

And I almost said yes. That’s the part that gutted me.

My thoughts were broken by the stranger's movement on my stomach.

God, I needed to stop sleeping with strangers. But there was just something about this particular one. Maybe it was the way he ate me, or talked me through the sex.

Too bad this was probably going to be the last time I’d see him.

I ran my fingers through his hair, slow and soft.

“You good?” I asked, my voice low.

He let out a breathless laugh. “Yeah. I just... didn’t expect it to feel like this.”

I smiled. Quiet filled the space, but it wasn’t awkward. Just... full.

After a beat, he kissed my stomach. “Thanks for tonight.”

I nodded, but before I could say anything, his voice came again—this time closer, pressed against my skin. “You weren’t just out the ledge for the air, were you?”

I was already teetering on the edge before he walked my way—and honestly, he was just too damn attractive to resist.

I looked down, lips parted, breath shaky. I didn’t know how to put it into words.

Saying it wouldn’t change anything. My life was still on that track. But something about him made it feel safe to tell the truth.

“Look, I know it’s not my place... we’re strangers. But whatever had you up on that ledge... I just hope you’re okay.”

I hesitated. What was the harm in telling him? It’s not like our paths would ever cross again.

“My dad wants me to do something I’m not ready for. He thinks it’s what’s best. But I don’t know if I can.” I finally said.

The moment I said it, it came with instant regret not because I didn't want to tell him, but because I braced myself for the usual: a push to suck it up, to be brave, to ‘just try.’

He cleared his throat, “Sometimes…”

Here it comes, some half-baked motivation in 3… 2…

I turned my face, blinking too quickly and tightening my jaw. But I felt his eyes on me—he’d seen the crack.

Instead, his voice came softer than I expected, “Only you know what you can handle,” he added, his voice gentler now. “If you believe in it—really believe—then fine. But if it’s already tearing you apart, maybe it’s not worth it.”

Did I believe in saving Astor? Honestly, I didn’t even know anymore.

For two years, my dad had been getting warning after warning from the financial department—and ignored every single one. He kept throwing money into dead-end projects and doomed investments like he could fix everything by sheer will alone.

Now the walls were finally caving in. This wasn’t just a scare. It was real.

But there was a solution.

At least, that’s what the nastier voice in my head liked to remind me.

You’re just being selfish. Ungrateful. There’s a rich man ready to save everything, and all you have to do is say yes.

A man I hadn’t even met.

Apparently, he was a billionaire looking for prestige—something Astor had, and he didn’t.

So that was the deal. His reputation gets a boost. My family gets to keep the company.

And me? I guess I was just the price tag.

With a quiet sigh, I reached for his face, my hands cupping his cheeks. He leaned into the touch.

Our lips met in a soft kiss—slow, careful like neither of us wanted to be the first to pull away.

“I meant what I said,” he whispered, pulling back just slightly.

I didn’t want to think. So I kissed him again and before I knew it, his hands slid to my waist.

“What are you doing?” I asked, half-laughing against his lips.

“Whatever you’ll let me,” he said, mouth brushing mine.

By 5:30 a.m., I slipped from his arms. He was still asleep.

I had to leave—before it got complicated.

No one could ever know.

I needed to take my pills. Getting pregnant by a stranger wasn’t an option. A part of me regretted it. But a bigger part didn’t. I felt alive.

Still, I knew what I had to do.

This was my family’s legacy. Something passed down. I couldn’t screw it up.

I was going to marry the man. It was for the best.

When I got home, Dad looked relieved. Maybe a little disappointed. But he didn’t press.

I apologized. We finalized the marriage terms.

No sex. We’d live together, and play the part when needed. The bedroom? Off-limits.

Freedom. No hovering. No cheating. No emotional strings. Just honor the deal.

Mutual respect was non-negotiable—no insults, no power games. Equals.

A partnership. Perform when necessary. Stay out of each other’s lives.

A business deal in disguise.

And maybe—just maybe—it wouldn’t be so bad.

I didn’t sleep much. But I got up anyway.

The engagement brunch was today. The day our families would meet.

Simone was coming with me. Thank God.

A knock pulled me from my thoughts. “Come in,” I said, brushing my hair and trying to look composed.

Simone stepped in, all brightness and energy. “Hi, girl!” She held up a small black box.

“Hi, Simone,” I greeted with a tired smile.

“Don’t give me that face.” She dropped the box on my vanity. “Today’s the day you meet your new family. You can’t look like you’re walking to a funeral.”

She took my hands in hers. “I know it feels heavy, but it’ll get better. There’s always hope.”

I pulled her into a hug. We’d been through everything together—from high school to Astor. She was my constant.

“I got you a jewelry set,” she said, stepping back with a grin. “I’ll be downstairs. Don’t keep the in-laws waiting.” She winked and disappeared.

In the car, I stared out the window as the city blurred behind us. The streets grew quieter, more refined. The homes were elegant and understated.

We pulled up to a white house with tall columns and a wide porch. Clean. Grand. Intimidating.

I adjusted my jacket and followed Simone inside.

Two butlers greeted us at the entrance, guiding us through a hallway lined with plush red carpet and expensive art.

“Hey,” Simone whispered, leaning close. “I looked up Richard Wilson last night. His wife passed away years ago. And he has a son.”

I blinked. “Seriously? I thought he was a lifelong bachelor.”

“Nope. The son’s running his own company—very successful. But the two aren’t close, apparently.”

“Interesting,” I murmured. I wasn’t listening. I just wanted this day to end.

We entered the dining hall.

And there he was.

The man I was supposed to marry. Richard Wilson. Ceo of Wilson Tech.

He was… okay. Mid-fifties. Greying at the temples. Fit. Polite. He smiled. I smiled. We sat. We discussed the terms—again. Dad did most of the talking.

After brunch, there was a small celebration. Richard invited close friends and business partners.

I needed air. I wandered off, exploring the rest of the house, lingering by the lounge before heading to the garden.

That’s when I noticed some of the guests hurrying toward the front door. My eyes trailed after them, casually at first. I figured it was just another guest—everyone had people waiting for them at the entrance today.

The moment the guest turned, I froze. It was him.

The stranger from last night.

What the actual hell?

A guest? A business partner’s kid? Please, God, don’t let him be—

“Dianne,” Richard called across the room, smiling. “Come meet my son.”