His Last name, My Secret

The Billionaire's Burden

Chapter 8

Hunter dropped his exhausted body onto his swivel chair, raising both hands behind his head as he leaned back. Slowly, he spun the chair, lost in thought. Their conference had just ended a while ago and it went well. They launched new projects to build in a rural area of Manila, Philippines and set to begin once collaboration with other investors was finalized.

But it wasn’t the project that occupied his mind right now.

It was his new wife.

His fists clenched as unwanted memories came flooding back. He never expected to end up in this situation and to be married to Zia. Sure, he had known her for years. Their families had always been close, but he never paid her any real attention. She was just there—quiet, proper, forgettable. Never in his wildest thoughts did he imagine she would become his wife.

Yet here he was, trapped in a marriage he never wanted.

The whole thing had been his parents’ doing. One day, out of nowhere, his mother begged him to honor the arranged marriage—something he had refused for years. He didn’t want to marry Zia. There simply was no room in his heart for any woman. He was a billionare, dominant, cold, and merciless. The very idea of having a wife was absurd to him.

But there was one weakness that could bring him to his knees: his sick mother.

He couldn’t hurt her. Not now. Not when he knew her time was running out. His mother, Ana Del Tiero, had been diagnosed with brain cancer, an incurable illness that shattered him the moment the doctor told them. Not a day went by without him worrying about her. Both he and his father knew that no amount of money could save her. That fact alone broke him more than he liked to admit.

And her dying wish? To see her son married… and to hold her grandchild before she left this world.

So even if it was against his will, he said yes. That was the only reason he agreed to marry Zia.

Every time he remembered that promise, his chest tightened with guilt and pain. He hated watching his mother suffer. So he walked down that aisle and placed a ring on Zia’s finger. He remembered how his mother had joyfully caressed the face of his young bride, but deep down, all he felt was anger.

Especially when, not long after the wedding, Zia’s father came to his office asking for financial help for his failing company.

He laughed in his face and refused to give him a cent.

What shocked him more was what came next—Zia’s father shamelessly offered her like a product, telling Hunter he could do whatever he wanted with her. After all, she was already his wife.

His brows furrowed at the memory. Yes, they were legally married, but to be handed a daughter like some kind of commodity? It disgusted him.

Still, he entertained the offer. He didn’t release any money right away and he took his time, weighing the decision. After all, he didn’t even understand why someone like Zia’s father was considered a family friend in the first place. The man was clearly greedy and manipulative.

Hunter stood and shoved his hands into his pockets. He walked to the glass wall of his office and stared out at the skyline. From where he stood, the golden glow of the San Fransisco Bay sunset bathed the city in warm light. But peace still eluded him.

He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to go home. All that waited for him there was Zia—his cold, distant wife who treated him like a stranger. She avoided him as if he were some kind of predator.

And for some reason… that infuriated him even more.

Maybe what truly bothered him was the fact that she was the only woman who had ever resisted him. Every other woman threw themselves at him and begged for his attention, and dreamed of being close to him. But Zia? She wouldn’t even meet his eyes.

He frowned, jaw tightening, as he remembered the few times he had kissed her. Her lips were soft—too soft. But there was something about her innocence that made him uneasy. She seemed too young. Barely in her early twenties, he guessed.

“Is she still a virgin?” he muttered under his breath, shaking the thought away in frustration.

No. He wasn’t ready to touch her. The idea of sleeping with a woman he didn’t love—didn’t even like made him sick. Yes, she had the body of a woman: tall, curvy, undeniably beautiful. But he couldn’t bring himself to desire her.

Because he hated her.

He hated every inch of her.

As he had told himself before: he would get her pregnant and then cast her aside. Let her family deal with her and the child. He didn’t need a wife. He didn’t need a woman. Life alone was easier—quieter. No distractions. No emotional chains.

Just business. Just control.

That was the life Hunter Del Tiero understood.

And love?

Love had no place in it.

He didn’t want commitment. He despised being manipulated. And more than anything, he hated distractions.

He only wanted a life where he could be free to enjoy himself. He was a womanizer—he knew that. He used women for pleasure, but he made sure everything was clean and temporary. He had no patience for women who got emotionally attached. All he wanted was a bed-warmer—someone to satisfy his desire. Nothing more.

He returned to his chair, grabbed his coat, and walked out of his office. As he passed through the ground floor, employees greeted him, but he didn’t spare them a glance. He headed straight to his car in the garage.

Driving to his favorite club, he went directly to the VIP room—where a sexy, stunning woman was already waiting for him.