Faking It with the Billionaire

(Aurora)Marrying Leon Kingsley was never part of my plan. Then again, nothing in my life had gone as planned. Three years ago, with my family’s name in ruins and our estate reduced to a hollow shell, Leon – my childhood friend – offered me a lifeline: a three-year marriage of convenience. In return, he’d help salvage what little remained of my family’s legacy.Feelings weren’t part of the deal.Tonight, we were headed to one of Isabella Kingsley’s infamous family dinners. Leon’s mother excelled at hosting events that showcased wealth and power. This evening’s guest list included close friends belonging to influential families.The weight of Leon’s hand in mine was a good distraction as we walked into the dining hall filled with guests milling about. My eyes squinted as they immediately fell upon someone standing just by the entrance. Taking small sips from her wine with her eyes glued to Leon was none other than Sophie Montgomery, a polished socialite who’d been pining for Leon for y

(Aurora)As soon as I heard the sound of the water running, I crept into the room designated as Leon’s office and looked for the manila folder. I shouldn’t have been snooping, but a certain suspicion that had been gnawing at me for days wouldn’t let go, and I just had to know. I found the manila folder in the first drawer on his desk. My heart sank as I flipped through the pages and noticed a recent transfer to my brother’s account.I walked up the stairs and into the room in a daze. Leon was standing in the middle, hair dripping water everywhere as he tried to towel dry it. I would have admired the softness in his demeanour if I wasn’t so distracted.“Leon,” I called out, my voice tight. “What is this?”He glanced over, immediately understanding what I’d found. “Aurora-”“You’ve been giving my brother money?” I demanded, the hurt in my voice unmistakable.“He needed help,” Leon said simply. “I wasn’t going to let him sink.”“That’s not your responsibility,” I snapped. “He’s an adult

(Aurora)Late that night, Jenny and I sat across from each other in her cozy apartment, an eclectic blend of modern chic and personal quirks—plush throw pillows, twinkling fairy lights, and scattered books on a bohemian rug. She perched on a floor cushion, leaning against a giant bear plushie, while I sat on a similar polka-dotted mat, a bottle of wine between us. "Okay. Talk to me. What happened between you and Leon?" I sighed, swirling the wine in my glass. “Where do I even begin?” I muttered, then unloaded everything as dry as sand paper. Jenny’s dove-gray eyes went wide in disbelief. “No way. That arrogant bastard—how dare he do that to you? Does he even realize that without you, he’d be barely half the person he is?”"Never," I laughed bitterly. "To him, I'm forever the glorified fixer—someone to smooth over the messes, with just the right amount of cooing, wooing, and strategizing.""Don't sell yourself short." Jenny wrapped her arms around mine, her warmth grounding me. "You

(Aurora)As Jenny and I approached the grand hall where the reunion was being held, excitement bubbled in my chest like fluttering butterflies. It had been nearly three years since I’d seen or spoken to my old college friends—some of them for much longer. They’d probably have a barrage of questions for me. The apprehension sent a thrill coursing through my veins.“Remember,” I turned to Jenny, keeping my tone light but firm, “not a word about Leon and me. The last thing I need are questions about my ‘mysterious husband.’”Jenny raised a brow, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Fine. But if Claire tries to one-up you, I’m not promising to stay quiet.”We stepped into the room, the sound of chatter and laughter washing over us. I scanned the crowd, catching sight of familiar faces, before being momentarily taken back by two striking figures near the entrance.Leon and Claire.They walked in together, drawing every eye in the room. Leon looked impeccable in a tailored navy suit, while Cla

(Aurora)The laughter and easy banter of my college friends filled the air, a fragile shield against the underlying tension. Oliver’s suggestion of Truth or Dare had initially seemed like an innocent throwback to our college days, but as the game progressed, it had started to feel more like a gladiatorial arena – one where Claire’s words were the sharpest weapons.I sat stiffly on the couch, the cool leather beneath my palms grounding me as I tried to appear unbothered. Around me, the group leaned forward with eager smiles, awaiting the next target of the game’s sharp questions and bold dares.I played along, though my focus was scattered, my attention darting between Claire’s too-perfect smile and Leon’s unreadable expression.When it was Claire’s turn, she didn’t miss a beat, her polished veneer firmly in place. “Truth,” she announced with practiced grace, her tone implying she could handle whatever came her way.Oliver, ever the instigator, leaned forward, a devilish grin spreading