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139: Playing The Perfect Wife
Last Updated:
2025-05-08 23:07:02
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Married To The Billionaire I Hate 140: The Long Con
Stevie-lou's POV.It started with a warning. A heads-up. A whisper over wine and dim lighting."He has two meetings tomorrow. One at nine, one at twelve. Big shots. Foreign investors," I told Jeremy, keeping my voice low even though we were alone in the rooftop bar. My nails tapped the glass of my mimosa. "If they pull out, Hart bleeds. Bad."Jeremy didn’t even flinch. He leaned back in his chair, that slow, dangerous smirk pulling at his lips. Dressed in all black, like always. He looked like sin and sex and danger, and he was mine. Still mine."You got the names?"I nodded, passed him the folded napkin I wrote them on.He took it, barely glancing, before tucking it into his jacket. "Say less."That was the first time. The first chaos. Jeremy made some calls. Hired a guy who hired a guy who knew a guy. Something about an anonymous protest happening downtown. Just enough noise to block traffic, delay cars, reroute important men with no time to waste.The investors didn’t make it to Ha
Last Updated : 2025-05-08Married To The Billionaire I Hate 1: Humiliated
Emily. 7 years ago. The roar of the crowd sounded around the field, but I barely heard it. All I could focus on was him…Cole Grayson. He stood in the center of the field, the late afternoon sun had a golden halo over his dark hair. His movements were without effort, calculated, as he dodged past opposing players. The ball seemed like an extension of him, and every time he scored, the crowd erupted in cheerslike a storm. From my spot on the bleachers, tucked away in the furthest corner, I watched through the safety of my thick-rimmed glasses. My cheeks burned, though I told myself it was just the sun. Who was I kidding? I was completely smitten. Damn. The cheerleaders screamed his name, waving banners with Cole scrawled in bold letters. Even the guys who pretended not to care shot him envious glances. Cole wasn’t just the star player; he was the star of the entire school. I sighed, hugging my knees. It had been four months since I joined Westbridge, and ever since that rainy d
Last Updated : 2024-12-04Married To The Billionaire I Hate 2: Broken Beyond Repair
Emily's POV. My heart hammered in my chest as I watched Cole laugh. It wasn't a light chuckle or a half-hearted grin. No, this was the kind of laugh that made you feel like something deep inside you was being crushed into dust. His friends started laughing too, the sound of their mocking, high-pitched giggles echoing through the hallway. And then, even a few students nearby joined in. I could feel my face burn, my pulse pounding in my ears. I stood there, frozen, helpless, every ounce of courage I had drained in an instant. “Are you serious?” Cole asked, wiping tears from his eyes as he took a step toward me. He looked me up and down with the kind of scrutiny that made me want to crawl into a hole and hide forever. “You think you can just... tell me you like me? You think I’m going to be interested in some girl like you?” His voice was dripping with venom, each word cutting deeper than the last. I felt smaller and smaller, like the floor was swallowing me whole. He poked at my
Last Updated : 2024-12-04Married To The Billionaire I Hate 3: Seeing Again
Emily's POV 7 years later. Present. The moment I stepped out of the sleek black Rolls-Royce, a wave of flashing lights blinded me. The cameras clicked furiously, each one trying to capture the perfect shot. The air buzzed with the sound of reporters shouting my name, their questions tumbling over one another in a chaotic mess. “Miss Hart! Over here!” “Emily, are you planning to expand the company this year?” “Can we get a comment on your rise to success at such a young age?” I adjusted the lapel of my tailored cream pantsuit, my favorite pair of Louboutin heels clicking against the pavement as I strode forward. My face remained poised, composed—a faint smile playing on my lips as my bodyguards flanked me, creating a barrier between me and the overzealous crowd. I didn’t answer their questions. Not yet. I let the confidence radiate from me, my chin held high as I walked toward the entrance of the grand event hall. The paparazzi were relentless, their lenses tracking my
Last Updated : 2024-12-04Married To The Billionaire I Hate 4: The Ultimatum From A Father
Cole's POV I leaned against the sleek black car parked outside the industrial event hall, watching the last of the guests trickle out. The evening had gone as expected, with handshakes and back-patting from the old guard, a few promising discussions about potential mergers, and, of course, the usual fawning admiration. Everyone wanted a piece of Cole Grayson. Everyone, that is, except Emily Hart. I shoved my hands into my pockets and let out a quiet chuckle, shaking my head. Emily Hart. She hadn’t just ignored my handshake…she’d downright dismissed me, as though I were some insignificant pest. No one had ever treated me like that, not in all my thirty years. “Too full of herself,” I muttered under my breath. “That’s what she is.” But there was something else about her, something that gnawed at the edges of my mind. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but she seemed familiar. The curve of her face, the fire in her eyes when she looked at me…it wasn’t just confidence. It was somethin
Last Updated : 2024-12-04Married To The Billionaire I Hate 5: When Things Go South
Emily's POV. The air in my father’s study was thick with tension, and my voice rose so high that I thought the walls might actually crack. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” I yelled, pacing back and forth across the hardwood floor, my heels clicking like gunfire. “You expect me to marry Cole Grayson? That arrogant, self-absorbed…” I stopped mid-rant, my chest heaving, and pointed an accusatory finger at him. “You can’t be serious!” My father, ever the picture of calmness, sat in his leather chair, his elbows resting on the armrests, his hands folded neatly in front of him. He regarded me with the same infuriating neutrality he used in board meetings. It was like yelling at a wall. “Yes, Emily,” he said, his voice maddeningly steady. “I mean it. You’re going to marry Cole Grayson.” My jaw dropped. I felt like I’d just been punched in the gut. “You’re actually serious?” I demanded, the disbelief clear in my voice. “You want me to marry him? Today, I meet him for the first time in ye
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Emily's POV. The tension in the air was suffocating. My hands were still clenched into fists, nails biting into my palms, but it didn’t make the fury any easier to hold back. I had spent my entire life thinking I had control over my destiny, but now? Now I felt like I was just a pawn in some cruel game between two powerful men. My father, the one person I thought I could trust, was willing to trade me like a commodity. And for what? For him. For Cole. Cole sat across from me, a wall of cold indifference between us. His jaw was tight, his eyes never meeting mine, his posture stiff and uncomfortable. The silence between us was heavy, but it wasn’t the kind of silence that made you think there was still something left to say. No, this silence was suffocating, each passing moment a reminder that this…this situation was happening, and there was nothing I could do about it. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and strained. "I can’t do this, Emily," he said, as if forcing the words out of
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Emily's POV. A week ago, I thought the world couldn’t get any worse. I was wrong. The chaos of that evening was nothing compared to the slow suffocation I’d been enduring since. Every second of every day had been a reminder of my entrapment, and now, here I was…sitting in the room of Cole’s father’s house, being painted and polished for a wedding I wanted no part of. “Hold still,” the makeup artist scolded, her tone sharp as she grabbed my chin and angled my face. “Stop frowning, or the eyeliner will smudge.” I clenched my fists in my lap, resisting the urge to shove her hand away. My jaw ached from how tightly I’d been clenching it, and my shoulders were stiff from the tension I couldn’t seem to shake. The more she worked, the more I felt like I was being turned into someone else…someone I didn’t recognize and certainly didn’t want to be. “There, perfect,” she said finally, stepping back with a satisfied smile. I didn’t look at her. I didn’t thank her. I didn’t care. The s
Last Updated : 2024-12-04
Latest chapter
Married To The Billionaire I Hate 140: The Long Con
Stevie-lou's POV.It started with a warning. A heads-up. A whisper over wine and dim lighting."He has two meetings tomorrow. One at nine, one at twelve. Big shots. Foreign investors," I told Jeremy, keeping my voice low even though we were alone in the rooftop bar. My nails tapped the glass of my mimosa. "If they pull out, Hart bleeds. Bad."Jeremy didn’t even flinch. He leaned back in his chair, that slow, dangerous smirk pulling at his lips. Dressed in all black, like always. He looked like sin and sex and danger, and he was mine. Still mine."You got the names?"I nodded, passed him the folded napkin I wrote them on.He took it, barely glancing, before tucking it into his jacket. "Say less."That was the first time. The first chaos. Jeremy made some calls. Hired a guy who hired a guy who knew a guy. Something about an anonymous protest happening downtown. Just enough noise to block traffic, delay cars, reroute important men with no time to waste.The investors didn’t make it to Ha
Married To The Billionaire I Hate 139: Playing The Perfect Wife
Stevie-lou's POV.The honeymoon ended faster than it started.Smith had to get back to work, back to his throne at Hart Enterprise, where a single misstep meant losing billions and every shark in the water smelled blood. And me? I got a front-row seat to the life I’d only ever seen in dreams. Luxury. Power. Diamonds for breakfast, pearls for lunch. All wrapped in Smith’s smile like I was the luckiest woman alive."I have a surprise for you," he said one evening, stepping into the penthouse still in his tailored navy suit, tie loosened, phone glued to his hand.I looked up from the couch, brushing popcorn crumbs off my robe. "Another one?"He gave a crooked grin. "You're going to want to put on shoes for this."Ten minutes later, we were downstairs, and the valet drove up something that looked like it belonged in a superhero movie. A Bugatti La Voiture Noire. Black. Gleaming. Worth about $19 million."Holy sh*t," I gasped, my mouth hanging open.Smith just chuckled, handed me the keys,
Married To The Billionaire I Hate 138: Fever Dreams And Silk Lies
Smith's POV.My head was pounding.Not the kind of pounding that comes from a few glasses of wine or a late night, but the kind that makes your whole skull feel like it's cracking open from the inside. It throbbed with each breath I took, like a drum beating in my ears. I groaned, forcing my eyes open even though my lids felt like sandpaper. Everything was too damn bright. The curtains weren’t even drawn. Just a wide-open window to the Miami skyline, pouring sunlight into the suite like it had no mercy.I sat up slowly, every muscle protesting. My suit was still on me...wrinkled, sweaty, uncomfortable. Jacket half-off my shoulders. Tie loosened, hanging around my neck like a noose. My shirt was half unbuttoned and sticking to my chest. My mouth tasted like cotton. My tongue felt thick. I looked around, trying to focus through the haze."Petunia?" I croaked.And then I saw her.She was sleeping like a dream beside me. Her hair was sprawled out on the pillow like silk threads, her mouth
Married To The Billionaire I Hate 137: Not Your Typical Honeymoon
Stevie-lou’s POV.The presidential suite smelled like roses and expensive linen. The suite was bathed in low, warm lighting, gold accents reflecting off glass. Smith had his hand on my waist the moment the door shut behind us."God, Petunia…" he whispered against my neck, his voice thick with emotion and desire. "I’ve waited so long for this night. I’m losing my damn mind."I forced a laugh, soft and shy, the way I knew he liked. “We’re married now,” I said, tilting my head, brushing my fingers through his thick hair. “You don’t have to wait anymore.”His lips crushed against mine, hungry and possessive. He backed me up against the wall, kissing like a man who had been starving for years. His hands fumbled with the zipper of my dress, but I gently stopped him, brushing my fingers over his.“Not so fast,” I murmured. “Let me get us something to drink. You look like you need to relax first.”He grinned, flushed and breathless, hair slightly tousled. “Fine. But hurry.”I turned away, gli
Married To The Billionaire I Hate 136: The Wedding Trap
Stevie-Lou's POVThe thing about revenge is that it tastes better slow. You let it simmer. You add sugar, lies, soft kisses. You let the man believe he’s safe, loved, maybe even saved. And then you pull the rug.Smith Hart thought he found the one. He really did. And I played that part with the kind of grace that would make Oscar winners cry.I watched him now, standing at the altar. Tall, powerful, in his black tux that probably cost more than what my dad needed for his surgery. A fucking heart transplant. One point three million dollars. Just that. And Smith had it. Sitting in one of his fat accounts, probably bored. But when my father needed him, he refused to help."Not my problem," he said.My father died a week later. Gasping for air in a hospital room that smelled like antiseptic and poverty.So here I was. Petunia Monroe. Orphan. Some perfect ballet dancer that Smith Hart fell in love with. Sweet. Charming. Smart. Mysterious.His fiancée.I had already let my real mother fly
Married To The Billionaire I Hate 135: Meeting The Family
Smith's POV.Emily poured herself another glass of red wine, the deep crimson liquid swirling in the glass as she tilted it to her lips. Her reading glasses rested on the bridge of her nose, and her keen eyes skimmed over the pages of a thick manuscript...some up-and-coming author her publishing house had just signed. She looked so at ease in her cozy Hamptons home, legs tucked beneath her on the wide cream armchair, elegant in a charcoal turtleneck and worn jeans. The streaks of silver in her shoulder-length brown hair shone under the golden afternoon light that filtered through the tall windows. Outside, the trees swayed gently, leaves rustling in the wind, and inside, the fireplace crackled, throwing warm, flickering shadows across the Persian rug and soft cream walls."You’ve been awfully quiet," she said, her voice was calm but laced with suspicion, still not looking up. "Either you're hiding something, or you’re about to fire someone again."I leaned back on the opposite couch,
Married To The Billionaire I Hate 134: The Sweetest Lie
Stevie-lou's POV.He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear again, like he always did when we were out together. A signature move. A gentle caress that screamed affection to anyone watching. And I smiled up at him, letting my eyes soften just the way he liked. My lashes lowered, lips parting slightly, the faintest curve playing at the corners of my mouth. I’d perfected it.I hated the way my skin tingled under his touch...not because I wanted him, hell no...but because I was so damn good at pretending, I could fool even my own body. It betrayed me every time, responding to his closeness like a lover’s would. It made my stomach turn."You look beautiful tonight, Petunia," Smith said, his voice low and deliberate, fingers brushing the small of my back like he owned me."You always say that," I teased, brushing my fingers lightly along his wrist, my nails just grazing his skin."Because it’s always true."His eyes held mine a second too long, just enough to tell me what was coming. His ga
Married To The Billionaire I Hate 133: Red Wine And Reckless First Kiss
Smith’s POV.It had been days.And I couldn’t get her out of my damn head.Petunia Monroe.That name had stuck in my brain like a thorn I couldn’t pull out. Everywhere I turned, she was there. Not physically. But in my head. In meetings. In the boardroom while numbers were being thrown around, projections, investments, power plays…I saw her face. The way she tilted her head. The way her eyes held mine when we spoke.I had tried to fuck her out of my system. Tried it with a blonde influencer who kept giggling every time I so much as looked her way. Then with a brunette who knew how to moan on cue and say all the right things. Nothing. It all felt like cardboard. Cold. Pointless.She was still there. Her black feathered leotard, the way it hugged her body like it was made for her. That ballet performance wasn’t just art…it was a goddamn message. I didn’t know what it said, but I felt it like a slap to the chest.And I couldn’t stop playing it in my head.During dinner, seated alone at m
Married To The Billionaire I Hate 132: His Eyes, Her Mask
Stevie-lou’s POV.My heart was still racing as I wiped the sweat off my forehead. That performance had eaten me raw. Every muscle in my body was still vibrating. The black feathered leotard I wore...designed with precision and attitude...hugged my skin like a second layer, still warm from the heat of the spotlight. I felt it in my bones. The music. The rhythm. The eyes. Especially his.I had seen the way Smith Hart looked at me.He was far back in the dark hall but there was no missing the way he leaned forward during the dance. The others might’ve been sipping their drinks, whispering among themselves or pretending to care, but not him. Smith Hart had been watching like I was the only thing moving in that whole damn room. His stare cut through the air, bold and direct, as if he had seen something in me nobody else had. It shook me a little. Not because I cared. But because I knew exactly who he was...and I despised everything he stood for.The man was ruthless. Sharp-suited, sharp-to
