“You wrote a million on that blank check,” he said, voice dipped in mockery. “You really think you’re worth that much for one night? Prove it.” Wait, WHAT? I was rented as his escort for a business meeting, not for… this! Then he said, “On your feet. Clothes off.” And started walking toward me like I was the main course at a five-star dinner. My brain froze. My body? It chose violence. I panicked, kicked him between the legs, an accurate hit at his golden eggs, and boom! Billionaire down. Now I might be facing prison… or death. Same thing, really. All I wanted was to survive my evil aunt, save my little brother, and maybe not accidentally castrate a client. But fate had other plans and apparently, so did the hottest, richest, and most confused billionaire in the city! Why would a man who could have anyone rent an escort? And why do I get the sinking feeling this one-night gig just turned into a full-time disaster? <Find out in The Billionaire’s Rented Bride> where chaos is currency and love comes with a contract.