My Ex's Boss is My Baby's Father
On my wedding anniversary, I came home to rose petals and champagne. Instead of romance, I found my husband in bed with my sister—wearing the couture gown I designed for her runway debut. He called my designs "boring" and revealed the fashion house I built was actually funded by her secret investor money. The child we adopted? Her biological son with my husband, who she abandoned to chase Paris Fashion Week.
I walked out in nothing but the lingerie prototype from my latest collection. In a snowstorm. Straight into an exclusive fashion week after-party where I met him: a mysterious man who mistook me for a model and offered me a drink that tasted like freedom.
One night later, I owed him $100,000. Three months later, I discovered I was pregnant. And when I showed up to my job interview at the biggest fashion conglomerate in the industry, ready to prove my designs could save their failing luxury brand, the CEO sitting across from me was the same man from that night.
He remembers me. He wants his money back. And he's offering me $5 million if I can take his brand from fashion week laughingstock to top five in three major shows.
I took the bet. I just didn't tell him about the baby. Or that my ex-husband's textile company supplies the fabric for every major fashion house—including his.