Betrothed to the Billionaire

Chapter 2

Lisa’s POV

Everything had gone exactly as planned.

It always did.

Because in my world, nothing ever slipped out of place.

Nothing ever went wrong.

And I believed that completely.

“Are we heading back?” Daniela asked as we settled into the car, the shopping bags neatly arranged beside us.

I adjusted my sunglasses, leaning back into the seat. “Of course. Where else would we go?”

She smiled faintly. “I don’t know… maybe lunch? Somewhere unnecessarily expensive, just for the sake of it?”

I turned to look at her. “We just spent an hour buying things we don’t need. I think that qualifies.”

She laughed softly. “Fair enough.”

The driver started the car, pulling smoothly into the road. For a moment, we sat in comfortable silence, the city moving past us in a blur of motion and light.

Then Daniela spoke again.

“You’re dropping me off first, right?”

I raised a brow. “Do you want me to?”

“I mean, I could come over…”

“You always can,” I cut in smoothly. “But you also like your space.”

She nodded. “That I do.”

I gave a small smile. “Then I’ll drop you off.”

It didn’t take long before the car slowed in front of her apartment building. It wasn’t bad, not at all. Clean, decent, comfortable. But it wasn’t mine.

It wasn’t the Daves estate.

Daniela reached for her bags, pausing before opening the door.

“Text me when you get home,” she said.

“I always do.”

She studied me for a second, like she wanted to say something more, but then she didn’t. She simply nodded and stepped out.

I watched her walk into the building before leaning back into my seat.

“Home,” I instructed.

The drive felt quieter this time.

And somehow… longer.

My thoughts drifted again, but this time, they weren’t as light.

I thought about my siblings.

The twins.

Liam and Lila.

They had always been easier than me.

Liam, calm and observant, rarely spoke unless he had something meaningful to say. He had this way of watching people, analyzing situations before stepping into them. If I was fire, Liam was control.

Lila, on the other hand, was softer. Not weak, never that but gentler. She cared more, noticed more, felt more. Where I dismissed people, Lila tried to understand them.

We were different.

Completely different.

And yet, we were still the same in one important way—we had never known struggle.

They were still in college, still living the life I had just left behind. Still untouched by anything that required real effort.

I wondered, briefly, what they would do if things ever changed.

Then I dismissed the thought just as quickly.

Things didn’t change.

Not for us.

My mind shifted again.

To my father.

Richard Daves.

A man whose presence alone could command a room.

Everything I knew about power, I had learned from him. The way he spoke, the way he carried himself, the way people responded to him, it had shaped me more than I ever realized.

He wasn’t just rich.

He was respected.

Feared, even.

And for as long as I could remember, he had always been… certain.

There was never hesitation in him. Never doubt.

Which was why, lately, something had felt… off.

I couldn’t place it.

I hadn’t even tried to.

Until now.

The car pulled into the estate, the gates opening automatically.

I stepped out, the familiar environment wrapping around me like it always did, controlled, perfect, untouched.

Inside, the staff moved as usual.

Everything looked the same.

But something felt different.

“Welcome back, Miss Daves,” one of the maids greeted.

I nodded slightly, already walking past her.

“Your father is back, ma’am,” she added.

I stopped.

Turned.

“What?”

“He arrived not too long ago.”

A small smile formed on my lips.

Perfect timing.

I had been asking him for money for days now. Not directly, never directly, but enough for him to understand. Ken had been persistent about his business idea, and I had promised to help.

“Good,” I said, already turning toward the staircase. “I’ll see him.”

My steps were quicker now.

More purposeful.

I moved through the house effortlessly, heading straight for my father’s study, the one place he always retreated to when he was home.

But as I got closer, I slowed.

Voices.

Raised voices.

I frowned slightly.

That was… unusual.

My parents didn’t argue often.

At least, not like that.

I stopped just outside the door, my hand hovering near the handle.

“…this is your fault!” my father’s voice came, sharp, strained in a way I had never heard before.

I froze.

My mother’s voice followed, lower but no less tense. I couldn’t make out everything she said, but there was frustration there. Panic, even.

“I trusted you,” my father continued. “I trusted that you understood what was at stake!”

“I did!” my mother snapped back. “You’re the one who…”

“Enough!”

Silence fell for a brief moment.

Then…

“We are broke.”

The words hit me like something physical.

I blinked.

Once.

Twice.

No.

I must have heard wrong.

Inside the room, my father’s voice continued, but now it sounded… different.

Not powerful.

Not controlled.

Tired.

“We have nothing left at the moment,” he said.

My heart started beating faster.

Nothing left?

That didn’t make sense.

That couldn’t make sense.

My mind began racing, pieces falling into place without my permission.

The late nights.

The tension.

The way he had been quieter lately.

The way he sometimes just… sat, lost in thought when he believed no one was watching.

The way he had barely gone to the company.

The company.

Daves Corporation.

One of the biggest firms in California, built on investments, real estate, high-level partnerships. My father wasn’t just the owner. He was the brain behind it. The one who made the decisions that kept everything running.

But now…

He hadn’t been going.

Not as often.

I had noticed.

I just hadn’t cared enough to think about it.

Inside the room, my mother spoke again, her voice trembling slightly.

“What are we going to do?”

There was a pause.

Then my father exhaled heavily.

“The money we borrowed from the Georges…” he said slowly.

My breath caught.

“Their heir is asking for it back.”

The Georges.

Another powerful family.

Another name that carried weight.

I pressed myself slightly closer to the door, my heart pounding now.

“The heir?” my mother asked.

“Yes.”

A pause.

“He’s back.”

Silence.

Heavy.

Unsettling.

My father continued, his voice quieter now.

“Ethan George.”

The name meant something.

It had always been there, somewhere in the background. The son of the late Mr. George. The one no one ever saw. The one whose identity had always been hidden.

And now…

He was back.

And asking for money we didn’t have.

I felt something shift inside me.

Something unfamiliar.

Uncomfortable.

For the first time in my life…

I didn’t feel certain.