Claiming The Billionaire's Wife

As Lana approached her grandparents’ house on her bike, she saw a black Range Rover Parked in front of the house. She wondered which friend of her grandmom was so rich and young to drive such a breathtaking vehicle, but just as she pulled up next to the car, her eyes landed on the subtle but unmistakable silver insignia at the back—R&R Industries. Her heart dropped. “Dad!” Her mood sank, and she wondered what her dad was doing at their country home, all the way from Los Angeles, unannounced. “This can’t be good,” she muttered as she walked into the house. “There she is, my beautiful daughter!” Mr. Tate said with a cheer on his face, as Lana walked into the living room. “Where is Grandma”? Lana enquired as she gave her dad a brief hug. “Well, she went to the Farmers market to get some fresh fruits and groceries”, he replied, a bit disappointed that Lana had not greeted him with enthusiasm, giving him only a brief side hug when he had his arms spread wide for a full embrace. “You never come to see me, Dad, so something must be up. So please, tell me why you are here”, Lana said with a suspicious stare. At that moment, all the grace and cheer in Mr. Tate’s face vanished. “Since you want to go straight to business, I came to inform you that your mom and I have blessed the marriage proposal made by Mr. Philip Rodgers for you!” Shivers went down Lana’s spine. With disbelief on her face, she asked, “What did you say, Dad?” She asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. “I am sure you heard me well; you will be marrying Mr. Philip; the decision has been made,” he replied with authority in his voice. “I will do no such thing; you cannot decide who I marry. I made the fact that I was not interested in Mr. Philip very clear from the onset, so I do not understand why you went ahead to accept his proposal,” Lana replied in defiance and rage. Mr. Tate stepped toward the door, brushing invisible dust from his coat sleeve. “I only came to inform you personally. The next time you see me will be in the company of your husband. I suggest you get used to the idea.” Lana flinched as if he’d struck her. Her father hadn’t come to discuss—he’d come to deliver a verdict. He turned and exited, and Lana stood paralyzed as the black SUV vanished down the gravel road. Was this real? Her mind raced. She pinched herself hard, hoping to awake from the nightmare. Then her body jolted into motion. She threw on her jacket, grabbed her scooter, and rode off, the wind slicing her cheeks as she made her way across town to Arkansas Sports Center—to the only person who made sense anymore. --- The Arkansas Sports Center was buzzing with the usual hum of life—bouncing basketballs, laughter from the swimming pool, the echo of weights hitting the gym floor. Lana burst through the front entrance, her heart pounding. She dashed to the front desk where a pretty blonde in a red polo uniform was sorting membership cards. “Excuse me,” Lana said breathlessly. “Stefano Iglatias. Is he around?” The woman smiled. “You just missed him—he went to the soccer team’s dressing room. Said he had something special to set up.” Lana’s brows furrowed. Something special? “I thought the season had ended, why does he still have commitments for the soccer team?” she asked as she made her way to the dressing room. The blonde lady shrugged as Lana left the desk. She walked briskly past the treadmills and weight benches, her nerves knotted, a thousand questions raced through her mind—until she stepped into the dressing room and saw the lights dimmed, fairy lights strung along the back wall, and a modest table set with two cupcakes, a single white candle lit in the middle. And Stefano. Her Stefano. Standing there, almost startled by her unannounced entrance. He was wearing a black fitted tee, glasses slipping down his nose, and that crooked, boyish smile she’d memorized from the day she met him first. His hands were behind his back, a bit anxious. “What is going on, hun? I thought the soccer season was over,” Lana quizzed him. “Happy one year anniversary, sweetie-pie,” he said softly, revealing a small bouquet of sunflowers—her favorite. Tears pricked her eyes. “I know you said no surprises, but I couldn’t help it,” he started, crossing the room to her. “One year ago today, you walked into this place and yelled at me for keeping your Grandmother waiting while I was making an acquaintance of a club Director who was about to leave. I knew then that there was something special about you, that you had a big heart, and you're never shy to fight for what is right.” Lana laughed through the lump in her throat. “That wasn’t yelling. It was constructive scolding.” “That's definitely not what my co-workers thought of it. They called you the Feisty Lady for months,” he replied, as he leaned in, brushing his lips against her cheek. “Come with me. I’ve got something else.” She followed him through the stairwell up to the rooftop—their secret haven. Strings of fairy lights wrapped around the railings, casting a soft glow against the deepening orange sky. The sunset in Arkansas was always their magic hour. But tonight, Lana’s heart carried weight. “I cannot believe you remembered, especially with your day cramped up with activities from school and work, and to set all these up for me.” Lana was fighting back the tears. “You are my priority, sweetie pie; I would not miss it for anything,” Stefano replied as he playfully tugged at her nose. ‘I know that, just that today…” Lana looked downward, her eyes filled with despair. “What is the matter baby?” Stefano enquired with concern on his face. She turned to face him, breath hitching. “My dad came today.” Stefano’s brows rose. “Here?” She nodded. “He said... he said I’m marrying Mr. Philip Rodgers. That they’ve already accepted the proposal.” Stefano’s entire body tensed. “No,” he said firmly. “No, that’s not happening. You mean even after you told them you were not interested the first time it was mentioned?” “I told him no. I told him I only want you, Stefano, but my Dad does not care about other People's feelings when it has to do with business.” “I can’t do this without you. I won’t marry someone else, I—” He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. “We’ll figure it out. I promise. I’m not going anywhere. You and me, remember? That little Clinic in Florence, the vineyard summers in Tuscany, my art studio near the cliffs—every dream, I still see it. I see you.” “I won't be able to do it without you either.” Her lips trembled. “But what if he makes it impossible?” “Then we fight,” he said, eyes fierce and fists clenched. “We run. We survive, whatever it takes to be together, sweetie-pie.” Their kiss was desperate and full of everything they feared to lose. And when they lay beneath the stars, tangled together on the rooftop blanket Stefano had laid out, they made promises with every whispered word and tender touch. But just as Lana nestled into his arms, his phone buzzed on the ground next to her. Stefano reached for the phone, his smile fading as he read the text. UNKNOWN NUMBER: Check your father’s sentence again. Some things never stay buried.