My Fake Billionaire Husband

A Question Worth of One Million Dollars

Katy’s Point of View

It’s 10:58 P.M. I recall thinking about the long drive I had to take up to Arkala and how ready I was to take it. I will just need to wash my face and drink some coffee. I swear I wanted to order coffee, but tequila was the word that came out of my mouth. A wedding is an overwhelming emotional event for me, and what made matters worse was that handsome, good-looking, mysterious man. It's been a while since I started hating attending weddings because people will keep asking when your turn is, or you don’t have much time to have a baby, why are you not married yet, let me introduce you to this person and that, and the list of bugging options goes on and on. In addition to all that, this anonymous man climbs to the head of the list of reasons why I'm not enjoying my night. His green eyes were surrounding me wherever I went, and all I could think about was: I couldn’t believe he tried to kiss me; I couldn’t believe how much I wanted to kiss him too; and this is a bad sign, I knew I had to back out. He is bad news. I don’t want any distractions, especially from what seems to be a professional womanizer, player, and Alpha. I have learned and paid a high price for my mistakes of dating the wrong people. A player will always be a player. I repeated this sentence over and over again.

I just had my -I don’t know which number-tequila shot, and my vision started to blur, and the happy dizziness started to pop up.

The wedding was finished. It was time to go. I was trying to walk straight towards my car, but I doubt my intentions worked. I was a little too much a drunk walking tequila, trying to concentrate on every step I was taking to reach my car, and then I saw him. I saw him coming towards me.

This is all I remember. How did he end up here? What happened between us? Why are we in bed together?

My father was furious. He could kill someone, probably me. I misbehaved. His daughter is with a man in her bed without marriage. I broke his morals by behaving like a normal person with freedom of choice.

What a big shame for him!!! What an ordinary behavior in the twenty-first century.

My father, my uncle, my five brothers, and three cousins are all bunches of crazy people. They are not civilized. What am I going to say? How will I explain my situation?

"Father, let me explain. I.. we... not..."

Please God, help me. I really must stop relying on coffee in the morning, and get my brain to work fine without caffeine involvement. With the worst hangover I ever had, I knew that I had to come up with a big fat lie to save our lives. My father is looking furious at me, I can see how mad he is, and the disappointment on his face is rising.

"Katy, who is he?" He screams at me and continues, "I am asking you who is he? If you do not speak now, I will kill him. I will kill him and you. "

I don’t know if my father would do it, but at that moment, I had no other choice. My options are limited. I look at the mysterious Alpha with the "I’m Sorry Look" and answer:

"Father, let me introduce you to my husband."

"Your husband? Excuse me? You got married? "

I have no other choice. I need to come up with something. I’m afraid my family is like barbarians, and you can’t predict their moves.

"Dad, I wanted to tell you, but..." I stop because I don’t have a full sentence to speak, I need the creative side of me to show up.

"But what? What? Tell me. " He yells at me

"Because of this! Can’t you see how you treat me? I am afraid of you, dad. "

I know how my father thinks, and I can see that I am in a bad situation, but the anonymous guy didn’t say a word yet, he’s just watching the argument between my father and me.

I look at the mysterious guy, waiting for any reaction of his, waiting for any sign, then he nods to me to continue with the lie. I don’t know him, I had a maximum of one-hour conversation with him and a very heartwarming dance, but I could read his eyes, and his eyes were permitting me to be creative.

My dad is roaming in my little studio, he’s making us even more nervous. Then he stops, looks back at me, and says:

"My daughter got married against my blessings. Shame on you."

My father is so furious and upset that he’s disheartened. The whole crowd behind him is waiting to see what murdering method he will choose for us. What options do we have: shooting, cutting, strangling, or throwing out the windows since I don’t have a balcony?

If I have to die, it’s because I am his daughter and I misbehaved, but the guy next to me is innocent. He doesn’t deserve a death sentence because he’s lying next to me.

I continue murmuring.

"I... I’m... we are..." I look at the anonymous person next to me and I’m confused. I need an urgent answer. I need to come up with a story, any story that will bear on our lives. Any story will do since his only concern in life is finding me a husband, preferably one from Arkala. And I also know that behind his stern face, and the tough, harsh look on his face, there’s a white heart, and deep down, somewhere in the bottom of his heart, there’s a little place for me, a little place for his daughter. He just doesn’t like to show it.

So I gather my power, my brain, and my creativity and continue saying:

"My husband and I love each other so much, but I told him that you, dad, wouldn’t approve of our relationship because he is... He is from the city, and I know how you preferred a guy from Arkala to be your son-in-law. "

He looks at me with an upset, disheartened look. His disappointed look breaks my heart.

"But when I asked if it was your marriage, you said no. You lied to me."

"I’m sorry, dad..."

I mean it, but for different reasons. I’m sorry I wasn’t born as a male. I’m sorry that I’m a disappointment to you. I’m sorry for trying to keep a distance between us. I’m sorry I lied to you.

I know you're probably thinking, "What kind of excuse is that?" but believe me, knowing my father's mind, he'd believe the story.He was longing for a son-in-law from Arkala so he could control our lives. All I need is a little push from the man next to me since they are both of the same gender, and my father is more likely to believe a man’s word. Together, we can convince him.

I look at my fake husband’s eyes with my puppy wide eyes, and we gaze at each other, me begging him to go with the flow, and him, I can’t read his eyes now. Why is it so misleading now? Terrified of his reaction, what would he do? Will he help me?

My father was looking at us like he didn’t believe a word I said. I know this anonymous fake husband must interfere. He should say something, anything at all.

The silent moment didn’t last long; it was interrupted by my father's one million dollar question.

"Katy, what's your husband's name?"