Billionaire’s Pretend Wife To Be
Zelle Utiafter bankruptcy the billionaire asked me to marry himdumped the scumbag, now i'm married to a billionairebillionaire night routineex begging for my return: i shine as a billionaire writer
He picked up his wine glass and took a slow, deliberate sip, instantly reverting to the cold, composed CEO.
The entire exchange had lasted less than sixty seconds. The dinner party, the supposed bastion of civility, was broken.
He protected me. Not Elara, the woman, but Elara, the Conti Property. He treated her insult like an attack on his corporate structure, and he annihilated the threat with devastating precision. He didn't defend my honor; he defended his right to choose me. But God, the power of that defense… the sheer force of him asserting my position against his own blood was intoxicating. I felt my lungs tighten, not in fear, but from the sudden, powerful rush of being claimed.
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