The Billionaire's Accidental Bride Episode 1 Romane & Geschichten

Bianca said, standing up from her seat. She had narrated everything to Carl including how she was made the heiress of a grandfather's company instead of her father and how her dad had intentionally tampered with the brakes of the car to set them up for an accident. Leah had also narrated how Dean contacted her to be Bianca’s personal guard even in Italy and how being legitimately married with someone eligible would be the saving grace for Bianca, but right now Carl really wouldn’t hear of that. “So you want me to come in and act like her husband?” Carl asked, seeming confused.

I asked amidst laughter. “Hey, get your facts right. That is my place.” “I am his wife, not you,” I shook my head. Emerald scoffed and swept her hair to the back. She looked pissed and like she had a lot in mind to do to me. “I was betrothed to me. That accident caused this shit!” “The moment I married him, he became mine,” I said. “Hey, are you crazy?!” My father yelled. “Does this make sense to you?!” I retorted.

So we've been taking pictures like crazy and pretending to be so much in love so the hashtag will be the cutest couples ever. Finally, picture time was over but here comes the hardest part—interviewing every member of the family and trying to find out their relationship with the new bride. "Mr. Zach Lowell, welcome to Vegas no. 1 Tv show titled Inside Scoop," the blonde guy whom I presumed to be the presenter began, "Word on the street was that your son got ditched by the hot and sexy model Vegas own number one, Celine Lowry. Is this true, Sir?" I saw Zach laugh gaily, nothing betrayed his features to show that he was upset or that he wasn't about, to tell the truth.

As she stepped outside, the cold night air seemed to whisper her doubts and fears into life. Celine drove aimlessly through the city, her heart a tangled mess of emotions. But her journey was soon interrupted by a glaring display television, the headline assaulting her eyes like a punch to the gut. "Mr Ermanno Vitale, Las Vegas Fakouff Billionaire CEO has been currently placed under arrest for the rape of Miss Zelda Martins," the news anchor announced. Celine’s heart splintered, a flood of tears spilling down her cheeks. "This is embarrassing," she whispered, her voice breaking. "This is shameful."

Lowering his voice, he whispered, "It's actually a fake, borrowed it from a friend." She nodded and pulled back, her face flushing. "Yeah, uh, it looks real," she said, pulling her hand from his arm and stepping away. He was happy his little lie had worked-otherwise, how would he explain wearing a brooch worth two million when he was trying to pass off as poor? But he was also confused as his bride withdrew from him, as if suddenly shy of their closeness.

An absolute, unhinged, territorial monster. I leaned my head back against the stiff hospital pillows, my mind frantically trying to calculate the absolute shambles of the morning. Why on earth did Julian Windsor have a key to my wife’s private elevator bay? Who was he to her? The physics of the encounter simply didn't add up. The owner of the multi-billion-dollar Windsor Empire Group does not physically storm a residential building, vaporize a solid mahogany double door with his bare shoulders, and proceed to commit first-degree manslaughter over a business dispute. It was entirely un-American. One does not simply beat another billionaire to a pulp because of a disagreement over telemetry li

We didn’t look like two drunk idiots playing pretend. I looked up at Eric and said, “We’re screwed. “Completely, and utterly fucked.” My heart was pounding and then, I read the caption below the video: “British Billionaire Heir Marries Mystery Woman in Miami.” That one sentence was bold enough to punch my soul straight out of my body. I blinked at first, then blinked again. British… what? Billionaire… Who? “What—?” I choked out, staring at the screen like it might suddenly correct itself.

"I have to marry his best friends grandson, Paul Sinclair.” I almost dropped my cup. Why were my broke ears hearing billionaire names. The Sinclairs were the richest family in Texas who owned nearly half of everything. I remember seeing Paul Sinclair in magazines. He was tall, blond and unbelievably handsome. For years women across Texas had voted him the state's hottest billionaire CEO. “My grandfather and Paul’s were good friends," Ivy continued, "so they decided each of their eldest grandkids would get married. But six months ago Paul had a terrible accident." She looked away. "He hasn't been the same since."

Love, Emily. Richard's vision blurred. He clutched the letter tightly against his chest. "I'm so sorry..." Downstairs... Margaret's phone suddenly rang. She answered lazily. "Hello?" A cheerful voice replied, "Congratulations!" Margaret frowned. "For what?" "I just saw the news online." "What news?" "The billionaire wedding!" "They're saying Alexander Blackwood got married after the bride disappeared." Margaret laughed. "So?" "The replacement bride looks exactly like your stepdaughter." Margaret's smile disappeared.