Married to a Cold Billionaire

The old ceiling fan groaned above Liana’s head, struggling against the heavy summer heat. She wiped the sweat from her forehead as she flipped through the last page of the overdue bills scattered across the kitchen table. Rent, hospital bills, electricity — all screaming one thing at her: she was drowning. Her mother coughed violently from the next room, a painful reminder of why Liana worked two jobs and barely slept. She pressed her hands into her tired eyes, willing herself not to cry. She was already breaking under the weight of it all. “Liana,” her father’s voice broke the silence. She hadn’t even heard him come in. She turned and froze. He wasn’t alone. Standing beside him was a man in a black suit, his sharp face carved from stone. Cold gray eyes met hers with not even a flicker of emotion. The man looked out of place in their crumbling home — like a wolf among sheep. Her father cleared his throat nervously. “This is Mr. Benson’s representative. He has an... offer.” Liana’s stomach twisted. “What kind of offer?” The man didn’t bother with introductions. He pulled a single piece of paper from his folder and laid it carefully on the table. It was a contract. “A marriage contract,” he said in a voice so cold it made Liana shiver. She stared at him. Then at her father. Surely this was a joke. “Liana,” her father began, wringing his hands. “Mr. Damien Benson — you’ve heard of him. The Benson family... they’re offering a deal. If you marry Damien, they will clear all our debts. Your mother’s treatment, everything. Paid in full.” Liana’s breath caught in her throat. Damien Benson. Billionaire. Ice king of the city. A man known for ruthless business deals and an even colder heart. “No,” she said immediately, shaking her head. “Absolutely not. I’m not selling myself like some... some item!” The man in the suit didn’t blink. “You won’t be forced to do anything against your will after the marriage. But you must maintain the public appearance of a wife.” “And why the hell does he need me?” she spat. “He can have any model or actress he wants.” “There are... legal reasons,” the man said smoothly. “Mr. Benson requires a marriage to secure a significant inheritance. The contract lasts two years. After that, you are free.” Two years. Two years of being chained to a man she didn’t know. A man who likely didn’t want her either. Her father looked desperate, guilt painting every line on his face. “Liana, please. Your mother... we can’t afford her surgery. If we don’t do this...” He didn’t finish. He didn’t have to. The weight of responsibility crushed her chest. She looked at the contract again, the black ink blurring before her eyes. Damien Benson. Two years. A lifetime of debt erased. Her mother saved. She felt her world crumbling, her dreams turning to dust. “You want me to marry a stranger for money,” she whispered, her voice breaking. Her father looked down, ashamed. His voice trembled. “It’s the only way, sweetheart. It’s the only way.” Liana’s hand shook as she reached for the contract. She read it through quickly, each clause sinking her deeper into despair. She could barely breathe. Her thoughts raced, her mind numb. “Think of your mother, Liana,” her father said again, his voice pleading. The man in the suit stood silently, watching her like a hawk. She could feel his eyes on her, cold and calculating. The tension in the room felt suffocating. Everything inside her screamed to run away, but she knew she couldn’t. There was no escape from this. There never had been. “No,” she whispered again, her voice smaller this time. “No... I can’t.” But her father’s next words shattered her resolve. “If you don’t do this, Liana, your mother could die. They’ll take her off the treatment plan if we don’t pay. We don’t have time.” Her mother’s coughing fit echoed from the next room, louder this time, as though in response to the unspoken truth hanging in the air. The truth that they had no other choice. Liana’s vision blurred as her heart clenched. This wasn’t supposed to be her life. She had dreams. She had hopes. She was supposed to go to college, find a real career. But all of that meant nothing now. Her mother’s life was at stake. “You’re asking me to marry a man I don’t even know,” she said, her voice weak. Her father reached for her hand, his grip desperate. “Please, Liana. I’m begging you. This is our only chance. We have no other options.” She looked at the contract again. The weight of it pressed down on her chest, heavy and suffocating. There was no choice, not really. She could refuse, but that would mean her mother’s death sentence. Her fingers trembled as she signed the paper.