CROSS MY HEART:A BILLIONAIRE’S BARGAIN

WEDDING OF CONVENIENCE

The Cross Hotel’s ballroom glittered like a page out of a fairy tale. Crystal chandeliers sparkled above, casting a warm, almost ethereal glow over the sea of white roses. The flashes of camera bulbs exploded like thunder, each burst capturing a moment that Emma couldn’t fully comprehend.

She stood beside Damian, her arm tucked through his, the weight of his presence suffocating. Her white designer gown, elegant and extravagant, felt more like armor than anything festive. It was too tight, too stiff, and it made her feel like a doll on display rather than a participant in the charade. The forced smile on her face felt like a mask that threatened to c***k under the weight of her thoughts.

Damian’s voice cut through the noise. “Smile, Emma.” His hand pressed against the small of her back possessively, his fingers cold against her skin. “You’re Mrs. Cross now.”

Her lips twisted into a strained grin, sharp and deliberate. “This smile is as fake as this marriage,” she murmured, barely audible, yet Damian’s sharp gaze caught the words, and a flicker of tension crossed his face.

Across the room, his mother, Victoria Cross, stared at them like a hawk, her gaze never leaving Emma, her lips curled in a polite but icy smile. During the rehearsal dinner, Victoria had made it perfectly clear that Emma would never be “good enough” for her beloved son. She was a mere pawn in this marriage, disposable and insignificant in the grand scheme.

Emma caught sight of Vanessa Reynolds, a flash of red amid the pastel-clad guests. The woman’s smirk was razor-sharp, her champagne flute raised in a mocking salute. Emma’s gut clenched. Something about that smile, that look, made her blood run cold. It wasn’t just the typical rivalry—it was something darker, something more calculating.

“And now, you may kiss the bride,” the officiant announced, his voice echoing across the hall.

Damian turned toward her, his eyes unreadable, his jaw clenched. For a brief moment, she saw something—uncertainty, maybe even regret—flit across his face. But before she could dwell on it, his mask was back in place. He leaned in, his lips brushing hers in a kiss that was more mechanical than intimate. Cold, practiced, and distant. A performance. Yet, as his lips touched hers, Emma felt a jolt of something—electricity? A spark of chemistry that had no place in their cold arrangement.

She pulled back sharply, her breath catching. What the hell was that?

Damian’s hand gripped hers, leading her through the motions of their first dance as husband and wife. Compliments poured in from all sides, but Emma barely heard them. Her mind was spinning, tangled in confusion. What was Vanessa playing at? Emma hadn’t seen her approach them directly, but there she was again, lurking in the background, her phone camera always at the ready. Every glance, every shift of her lips, felt like a deliberate move in some game Emma wasn’t sure she understood.

The ride back to Damian’s penthouse was a study in silence, the tension crackling between them like an electric storm. Emma kicked off her shoes the moment they entered the apartment, the sound of her heels hitting the marble floor unnervingly loud in the quiet.

She spun to face him, her frustration finally spilling over. “This marriage isn’t even something you want. So why are we doing this?” Her voice trembled, but she didn’t care anymore.

Damian stood by the window, his silhouette framed by the glow of the city lights. He loosened his bow tie with unnerving precision, as though everything in his world had to be exact, calculated. “Because control is better than chaos. And for now, you’re the lesser chaos.”

Emma’s laugh was bitter. “Lesser chaos? Is that what I am to you? A simple solution to your problems?” She stepped forward, her eyes flashing. “I don’t buy it, Damian. You’re hiding something. What are you so terrified of?”

Before he could respond, their phones buzzed simultaneously.

Emma’s stomach plummeted as she saw the notification. Vanessa had posted a video titled “The Truth Behind Cross Industries’ Ideal Power Couple,” and the caption promised “exclusive footage.”

Damian’s face hardened, his body stiffening as he grabbed his phone. “She wouldn’t dare.”

But Emma had already hit play. The video began with a clip she hadn’t expected—her and Damian sitting together at what should have been a private business dinner. She could feel her blood freeze in her veins as the camera zoomed in, capturing their conversation, one she had thought was safely out of the public eye.

“That’s impossible,” she whispered, horrified. “How did she—”

The video shifted, showing the moment in the Cross Industries boardroom, the day their deal had gone official. The camera had captured Damian’s face, his expression unreadable as he looked at something on his laptop screen.

Emma’s mind raced. She couldn’t make sense of it. What was on that screen? What had they seen that day?

But the video cut off abruptly, leaving Emma with a lingering dread. “The whole expose will be released tomorrow at noon. The most convenient marriages can occasionally conceal the most sinister secrets.”

Damian’s phone slammed down on the marble counter with a sharp c***k. His jaw was set, his eyes hard. “She’s bluffing. She has nothing.”

Emma wasn’t so sure. She hit play again, and the phone buzzed with another notification. This time, it was a text from Vanessa herself: “Tick tock, lovebirds. What’s the value of your silence? If you don’t meet me at midnight, the world will discover what truly drew you two together. And I have the files, Damian. All of them.”

Emma turned to Damian, her heart racing in her chest. “What files? What’s going on here, Damian? What aren’t you telling me?”

His face paled, the color draining from his skin. For the first time, Emma saw him truly scared. He ran a hand through his hair, disheveled and agitated.

“If I tell you, there’s no going back,” he murmured. “You’ll be implicated too.”

“I already am!” Emma shouted, her hand gesturing to the ring on her finger. “You don’t get to drag me into this mess and then keep me in the dark. Tell me what’s really going on.”

Damian opened his mouth, but before he could speak, the lights flickered. The room plunged into darkness, save for the dim emergency lights that cast eerie shadows against the walls. Their phones buzzed, both of them dying at the same time.

“What the hell—?” Emma whispered, her voice trembling as the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

Damian cursed, his voice barely a whisper in the dark. “We’re on the top floor. No one should be able to come up without authorization.”

Suddenly, the faint chime of the elevator echoed through the apartment.

Emma froze. The elevator shouldn’t have been able to reach them. No one was supposed to be here.

Damian moved swiftly, his hand reaching for something on the counter. His face was taut with fear as the elevator doors slid open with an almost imperceptible hiss.

They were not alone anymore.