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Then my phone buzzed again, and this time it was not James. It was a news alert. I frowned and opened it, but the moment the headline appeared on the screen, all the air seemed to leave my body. Billionaire CEO Xavier Combs Marries in Secret My eyes widened. I scrolled down and saw another one. Former Singer Sharon Miles Emerges as Xavier Combs’ New Wife There was a picture attached to the story. It was not perfectly clear, but it was clear enough. Anyone who knew me would know it was me. Anyone looking for me would know where to start.

she hissed. Camila chuckled lightly and earned a glare from Joan “Oh please, it’s too funny to let it pass without laughing,” she shook her head then stopped laughing and gave a serious look “It is an inviting offer but weird, what if you were some serial killer who kills rich handsome men for a living?” Joan looked at her in disbelief and shook her head at her assumptions. “What exactly are you reading that is giving you these ideas?” “It’s a crime documentary darling, and it gives you a sense of security somehow” she shrugged.

I leaned forward, squinting through the gloom. "Gabriel Moreau," Pedro said. He actually put his phone down. "The wine magnate. His family owns half of France and all of Napa. He’s... well, he’s the Great Wall of China. Unbreakable. He doesn’t do bars. He doesn’t do scandals. He definitely doesn't do actresses." "He looks like he’s judging the air for not being high-quality enough," Brittany added.

"Relax, dear. We’re not here to hurt you." "What do you want from me?" "Nothing," she smirked. "But we have an offer for you." "An offer?" My voice was shaky. "What kind of offer?" "A non- negotiable one," she said. "One that could change your life," she continued, her tone dripping with false kindness. "We’re prepared to pay you one million dollars a month." I blinked, sure I’d misheard. "A million dollars? For what?" "To marry a man," she said simply.

"You lost the right to claim me when you abused me, you did not only abused me you also cheated on me countless times with your numerous hoes." Alex's expression darkened. "That was just a misunderstanding, and every time it happens, I always apologize. Look, I know I hurt you but I still love you. "Understand this: over my dead body will I ever go back to you and you can never have me," Isabella spat. Alex chuckled "Who is the Billionaire I heard you're flirting with? So, you want to pick him over me right? Come on Isabella, you should know by now that he won't settle for something less like you."

" I asked, feeling pissed off. "Besides, he doesn't even love that lady. They were forced to get married for f**k sake!" "Are you kidding me?" She scoffed. "Did you just say Ryan doesn't love, Bethel? Please Karen, don't act like you don't know what's going on. He bought an expensive Bugatti for her for valentine. You also told us about the expensive necklace he bought for at the mall. And just yesterday, she was staying alone with him at his mansion. So, are you still tryna say Ryan doesn't love her?

But before I could reply, his phone started to buzz on the nightstand. He ignored it. Then it buzzed again. And again. Finally, he sighed and reached for it. I watched as his face changed — calm melting into something sharper, darker. “What is it?” I asked. He didn’t answer. He just turned the screen toward me. Headline: “Billionaire Rand Calloway’s Secret Love Affair — Artist Exposed.” Below it was a photo of us — from last night. Me in his arms, rain falling like glitter around us. The headline glowed cruelly against the white background, and beneath it, smaller lines:

I can't imagine a greater freedom than that. The End . . . . . Ember Casey is a USA Today bestselling author who writes sizzling romances about wicked billionaires, Hollywood bad boys, playboy princes, and rugged adventures. Her other works include His Wicked Games and the Fontaines of Hollywood series. You can find more about her work at EmberCasey.com.

] Who wanted to read those! Just as she was about to refuse, Christina had already sent back a long list—all links. Just from the titles alone, it was obvious they were steamy billionaire romance novels. Christina, how old are you to still be obsessed with billionaire romance novels!

Nothing as complicated as marriage yet, I just wanted to introduce her to my world. One day, she stormed into my suite with anger and betrayal clearly etched on her face. She was holding a magazine that had both our faces on it. It read, "Billionaire heir of the Martinez empire seen with Polish local. Looks like even Polish girls aren't immune to the beautiful art of gold-digging."