The Billionaire’s Accidental Bride

The ballroom of the Vane Estate smelled of expensive lilies and desperation. I adjusted the scratchy collar of my waitress uniform, trying to ignore the way my feet ached. One more hour. If I could just survive one more hour of serving champagne to the 1% of the 1%, I’d have enough tips to pay my brother’s tuition. "Sign this. Now." A cold, deep voice vibrated through my spine. I turned to find a man who looked like he had been carved out of granite. Silas Vane. The billionaire everyone whispered about. He wasn't looking at me; he was looking at a thick stack of papers on a mahogany table, his jaw tight enough to snap. "Sir, I’m just the..." "I don't care who you are," he snapped, his dark eyes finally meeting mine. They were like ice. "The notary is leaving in two minutes. My lawyers are breathing down my neck, and the woman who was supposed to be here ran off with a polo player. Sign it. It’s just a formality for the gala's charity foundation." He thrust a fountain pen into my hand. It was heavier than my monthly rent. Behind us, a camera flashed. A man in a suit, the notary, I realized, stepped forward. "Is the bride ready?" Bride? I laughed, a nervous, high-pitched sound. "He’s joking. I’m just..." "She's shy," Silas interrupted, his hand gripping my waist with a possessive heat that made my breath hitch. "Sign, Elena. Or consider your job at this catering firm gone by morning." Fear of my paycheck won over my common sense. My hand shook as I scrawled Elena Vance on the bottom line. I thought I was signing a charity waiver. I didn't realize it until Silas leaned down and whispered into my ear, "Welcome to the family, Mrs. Vane. Try not to make a scene when you realize what you've just done."