PROPERTY OF THE BILLIONAIRE

Tell me, what could bring an insanely driven, successful woman to the dust?

Love.

Yes, you heard me—love. The kind I had for Layden Macarus James. What Layden and I shared was magic, the kind that makes you believe in forever. And if I had to give up everything for him again, I would. Anything to make him happy.

"If I had known you’d keep zoning out, I wouldn’t have agreed to follow you here," Sandra teased, pinching me just hard enough to snap me out of my thoughts.

Sandra, dark-skinned and effortlessly stunning with hazel eyes that seemed to pierce right through you, had legs that could stop traffic. She was always the picture of confidence, and her playful demeanor only added to her magnetic presence.

We were at a bridal boutique—my wedding was tomorrow. Tomorrow, I would marry the man I loved the most, and we were waiting for the dresses the sales rep was going to show us. Sandra didn't even bother asking me what I wanted, and I trusted her. I mean, I was too tired emotionally and mentally to even think straight.

"You know I love you the most," I teased back, returning the pinch playfully. Just then, a sales rep walked over, carrying two stunning dresses. One was a tight-fitting lace gown with intricate vintage patterns; the other had a deep-cut back, elegant yet daring. I squealed in awe, running my fingers over the fabric. They’re all so beautiful.

"I think you should try this one," Sandra suggested, her eyes narrowing mischievously as she pulled out the dress with the plunging back.

I hesitated "No... I don’t think he’ll like it."

Sandra groaned "Good Lord, not this again I am so not having this argument with you. You either try it on or I’m leaving." She rolled her eyes, arms crossed in defiance.

"Fineeee," I sighed, grabbing the dress and heading to the fitting room.

As I entered the fitting room, I caught a glimpse of Sandra’s reflection in the mirror. She was leaning against the doorframe, her arms still crossed, looking every bit the confident, beautiful model she was. Her hazel eyes sparkled with mischief, as though she knew exactly what she was doing—pushing me to try something new, to step outside my comfort zone.

But this dress... it’s too daring. I can’t. Still, I unzipped the gown, the soft fabric whispering against my skin as I slipped it on. The plunging back sent a shiver down my spine. It felt too exposed, too vulnerable, but I couldn’t deny the way the dress clung to my body, the way it made me feel... powerful, even if just for a moment. The reflection that met me was almost foreign.

Janice, the woman who had always been a blend of confidence and uncertainty, stared back at me with emerald eyes that had lost their usual spark. My ginger hair framed my face softly, falling in waves that seemed to echo the curve of my body. At 5'7", I’d always been the right height for heels, though today, they weren’t necessary. The dress clung to my slim yet curvy frame like it was made for me, hugging every contour. My bust, a comfortable C-cup, filled out the lace fabric just enough to add elegance without being overbearing. My hips, as extended as a blackboard, gave the dress a natural flow, emphasizing the shape I had once been proud of.

But today, I didn’t feel proud. I felt exposed—as though the fabric wasn’t just showing my body—it was laying bare my soul.

“Well, you can come out now, Snow White,” Sandra’s voice broke through my thoughts, teasing but expectant.

took a deep breath, stepping out and turning to face her, trying to ignore the tightness in my chest, the gnawing feeling that this wasn’t the life I had imagined. I wasn’t sure if I was nervous about the dress or about everything else—my wedding, the man I was about to marry and the way my heart had begun to doubt everything I once believed in.

Sandra’s smile was approving. “You look amazing, Janice. I knew you’d rock it.”

I gave her a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach my eyes.

"I know this isn’t my business, but I still can’t believe you’re getting married against your parents’ advice—and mine—to a man who tells you to give up your dreams and goals just to stroke his ego. You deserve more than this,” she said, adjusting my veil.

I shook my head, the doubt quickly turning into annoyance. “I won’t let you talk about my husband like that, Andra. He just wants me to be more present, not to work so much. A lot of men are okay with their wives being housewives these days, you know?” I snapped, yanking the veil from her hands and clipping it onto my head. The conversation was always the same.

“He’s not your husband yet, girl, and he doesn’t even qualify to be.” Andra hissed, throwing herself back on the couch. “Can’t you see? Your mom’s not here, and neither is your future mother-in-law. The way I see it, you’re the only one stuck in lovesick mode. He’s already way past that.”

I paused, rolling my eyes. “You’ll never understand, Andra. It’s true love. I knew it from the first time I saw him in college. And for our love to have lasted this long? That’s a win-win.” I raised my voice slightly. “And it’s not my fault my parents don’t understand. I don’t expect them to. They’ve done nothing but disapprove of my relationship with Lay—just because he turned down a dinner for a meeting he had.”

“Except it’s not just one dinner. It’s every dinner they’ve invited him to. And then, boom, suddenly you show up saying you’re getting married. It’s normal they disapprove, and trust me, I will too,” she said, matter-of-factly.

"Look, I didn’t bring you here to lecture me or add to my doubts,” I snapped, frustration showing in my voice. “Just help me out of this dress. I’m pretty sure my husband”—I emphasized the word “husband”—“will be home soon and will need me.”

Andra sighed dramatically. “Girl, you’re lucky I love you for real,” she exclaimed, outrageously picking up another wedding dress for me to try on.

I chuckled, taking the dress from Andra’s hand and moving toward the fitting room. Despite everything, I was grateful for her—her honesty, even when it stung, and her unwavering support.

We spent the entire day arguing, laughing, and searching for the perfect dress until we finally found it—well, it was more Andra’s type than mine. I knew exactly what Layden would say when he saw me in it, but I couldn’t argue with Andra. The dress was sexy as hell, seductive in every way. But it wasn’t quite me.

We decided to stop at Starbucks for a quick bite. I ordered a large milkshake and a burger, while Andra got a large order of fries and orange juice. She started pushing me again to have a bachelorette party.

“You know I can’t,” I said, already exhausted from the back-and-forth as I grabbed our orders and led us to a table.

“Plus, you know I don’t have any friends aside from you,” I added, trying to avoid the topic.

“That’s because he doesn’t let you,” Andra shot back.

“Hey, hey, relax,” I replied, rolling my eyes. “Wanting privacy in your partner's life isn’t a crime. Plus, we’ve heard the stories growing up about how girls turn on each other.”

“And so what?” Andra countered, smirking. “Let’s go to a club, just for tonight. You and I both know your future husband—the one you claim you want to go home to—isn’t coming home tonight. You’re just being a sucker because you want to be alone, like always. Let's face it you're no longer the hot nerd in college, Janice. You’re a grown-ass 23-year-old woman. One beautiful night at a club won’t hurt. It’s your last night single—live a little,” she added, popping a fry into my mouth just to prove her point.

I moaned as the fry hit my taste buds, munching in delight.

“If I agree, will you stop bugging me?” I asked, my exhaustion clear.

"Yes, ma’am!” she replied, grinning excitedly.

“Fine,” I muttered, unable to resist her enthusiasm.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about!” she announced, causing me to chuckle hard.

After Starbucks, we made our way back to my place. For the first time in a long while, I was thankful that I had a friend with a car. Layden wouldn’t let me get one, which I could understand—since I wasn’t exactly going anywhere. We grabbed our things from the trunk and into the apartment, dropping everything on the couch as we made our way to the spare room.

It was already 7 PM, and still no call from Layden, which was becoming the usual. I groaned, staring at my phone. Andra, already heading into the shower, glanced back at me.

“I still can’t believe he won’t let you share a room with him,” she said, her voice light but carrying an edge of concern.

“Well, he loves his space,” I replied, though my voice sounded more like a question than a statement. It always felt strange and a little weird when people found out about me and Layden’s relationship and lifestyle. But we understood each other, and that was what mattered… right?

“He has his good sides, too, you know,” I said, chuckling as I began undressing for my own shower.

“Really? And they are…?” she asked, turning on the blow dryer and starting to dry her hair.

"Well, for starters, he doesn’t make me uncomfortable,” I replied, turning on the water, letting the warm water wash away some of the stress of the day.

When I finished, I grabbed a robe from the wardrobe, wrapped myself in it, and stepped into the room. Andra was already dressed, she wore a sexy police costume that screamed fuck me.

“And making you comfortable is a plus,” she asked in disbelief, applying mascara as she sat by the mirror.

“Yup,” I hummed, confidently drying my hair

After I finished drying my hair, I quickly applied some lotion.

“Now it’s your turn,” she squealed, dragging me to the mirror and sitting me down in the chair.

“Okay, before you start, I just want to say: nothing heavy. Layden says I look more beautiful in my natural state,” I added, blushing slightly at the thought.

“Well, Layden’s not here,” Andra teased, grabbing my hair a little tighter than usual. “So he can go fuck himself,” she added with a laugh as she grabbed the curling iron.