married to a billionaire I don't Love

CHAPTER 1: The Wedding Deal “Please, Daddy… don’t do this to me.” Tears blurred my vision as I stared at my father across the small sitting room of our rented apartment in Lagos. The once cheerful home now felt like a prison. Bills were scattered on the table. Hospital bills. Debt letters. And the final notice that we had just three days before eviction. My father looked older than his fifty-eight years. His shoulders were slumped in defeat. “I have no choice, Amara,” he said quietly. “If I don’t pay this debt, your younger brothers will be thrown out of school.” My chest tightened. Ever since my mother died two years ago, everything had fallen apart. I had dropped my dream of becoming a fashion designer to support my family, working long hours at a boutique on Victoria Island. But no matter how hard I worked, it was never enough. Then my father dropped the bombshell. “There is a man willing to help us.” I frowned. “What man?” His silence made my stomach twist. “Daddy?” “He wants to marry you.” My world stopped. “What?” “He will clear all our debts, pay for your brothers’ education, and buy us a house.” I staggered backward. “No.” “Amara—” “No!” I screamed. “You cannot sell me like I’m some product in Balogun market!” My father flinched. The guilt on his face made me hate myself for shouting—but I was drowning. “Who is he?” Before my father could answer, the front door opened. And he walked in. Amara’s breath caught. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit that screamed wealth and power. His expensive wristwatch glimmered under the weak light in their small apartment. But it wasn’t his money that stunned her. It was his face. Sharp jawline. Smooth dark skin. Cold grey eyes that looked like they had never known warmth. He looked like the type of man women fought over in Lagos high society. And yet… Those same eyes were fixed on her. Not her father. Not the room. Her. Amara suddenly became conscious of her faded home clothes and messy braids. Why was a man like this staring at her like that? For a brief second, something softened in his expression—as if he admired what he saw. Then it vanished. “You’re prettier than I expected.” Amara blinked in shock. “Excuse me?” He stepped closer. His expensive cologne surrounded her. “But don’t mistake that for affection. This marriage is business.” Her cheeks burned with humiliation and anger. “Then find another woman to buy.” His jaw tightened. “If I could, I wouldn’t be here.” Her heart pounded. Who exactly was this man? “My name is Alexander Cole,” he said coldly. “And I want you to become my wife.” “This has to be a joke.” “It’s not.” “Why me?” A dark look crossed his face. “Because I need a wife immediately.” That answer made no sense. “What are you hiding?” He leaned closer. “Marry me, Amara…” His voice dropped into a whisper. “…and I’ll save your family.” She should have said no. She wanted to say no. But then her younger brother walked out of the bedroom, coughing weakly from the illness they couldn’t afford to treat. Her heart shattered. Alexander Cole placed a black card on the table. “Decide before midnight.” Then he walked away. Amara stared at the card. Her crying father. Her sick brother. And the life she was about to lose. By midnight… She made the biggest mistake of her life. “I’ll marry him.”