The Billionaire's Fake Bride

Chapter Two

Belle's POV

After sitting alone on a creaky park bench for what felt like hours, I finally stood up. The warmth of the day had long disappeared, replaced by the chill of the night air. My fingers trembled as I clutched the handle of my tiny luggage; my only possession left in the world and stood up.

I only had a crumpled $30 bill tucked into my jacket pocket. It was all I had left from the $50 I’d stolen from my aunt the day I escaped. Most of it had been spent during the panicked bus ride out of town and the few miserable days I'd scraped by. I had hoped the money would last longer. But reality had its own plans.

I hoped $30 would be enough to rent a cheap room for the night. It wouldn’t buy a meal substantial enough to fill the gnawing hunger in my stomach. At most, it could get me a bowl of cheap instant noodles and maybe a bottle of water.

My stomach growled as I shuffled toward the sidewalk, dragging my bag behind me. My muscles ached. My bones felt too heavy. But I had no choice. I couldn’t sleep on a park bench. Not tonight. Not when I had no clue who might find me.

I asked a few strangers if they knew of any cheap motels nearby. Most ignored me. A few gave me weird looks. A few gave me pityful looks before walking away in silence. It was as if I was invisible.

After walking aimlessly for what must have been nearly half an hour, unease began to settle in my chest like a stone. There were no more shops. No streetlights. No houses in sight. Just a long stretch of dirt path and rustling trees that whispered things I didn’t want to hear.

The air felt thicker. Colder.

Then I heard it; faint at first. The sound of something moving in the bushes. Soft. Repetitive. Getting closer.

I paused, gripping the handle of my luggage tighter, heart thudding in my chest.

Again, the bushes shifted. Closer this time.

I turned sharply, only to see nothing.

Then, a gruff voice penetrated through the silence behind me.

“Well, well, what do we have here?”

I froze.

My breath caught in my throat as I turned slowly and came face to face with a large, bald man. His smile was wide and his teeth yellow, his belly jutted out beneath a stained black tank top. Every instinct in me screamed to run.

He stepped forward. I backed away.

Another man emerged from the trees, this one skinnier, but just as threatening, with a cigarette dangling from his lips and eyes like dead coals.

“Hand over the bag, sweetheart,” the first one growled. “And maybe we’ll let you walk away.”

My knees buckled. I stumbled and fell onto the gravel, the impact jolting through my bones. My arms gave way, and the bag slipped from my shoulders. I didn’t know if it was the fear, the cold, or just exhaustion, but I couldn’t move. Couldn’t scream.

The skinnier man snatched my bag, snickering as they both turned and vanished into the darkness as quickly as they had appeared.

I stayed on the ground for a few seconds, stunned. My heart raced, lungs heaving in shallow, panicked gasps. Everything I had was gone in a blink.

Tears blurred my vision as I slowly stood, my legs wobbling beneath me. I couldn’t stop shaking. But I ran.

I didn’t know where I was going. I just knew I had to move. Anywhere but here.

I ran until my lungs burned. Until the trees became a blur and the air turned colder.

Then I heard it; a car.

I turned just in time to see headlights rushing toward me.

I froze.

A blinding flash of light swallowed me, and then; nothing.

Darkness.

---

I forced my eyes open.

The world was white. Too white.

A nauseating scent ;disinfectant burned my nostrils. I blinked against the harsh ceiling light above me. My head pounded. My arms ached.

Where… where was I?

I turned slightly. There were tubes in my arm. Machines beeping softly.

A hospital.

God. I hated hospitals.

Everything about them made my skin crawl; the smell, the silence, the too clean sterility. My breath hitched as the memory of the headlights hit me like a brick wall.

An accident. I’d been hit by a car.

How unlucky could I be?

My whole life had been nothing but a string of misery. First, I ran from my abusive aunt and her twisted daughters. Then I lost my bag and money. Got robbed. And now this?

I sighed and tried sitting up. Pain shot through my side, but I managed to swing my legs over the bed. I took a breath and pushed myself to stand.

I slipped.

Pain exploded in my back as I hit the floor hard. My body screamed in protest, but I bit back the cry.

“I’m okay,” I whispered to no one. “I have to be okay.”

Because this wasn’t the end. It couldn’t be.

Not for me.

Not now.

I groaned in pain ,only to hear the door click open and a handsome man walked in.

My breath hitched. He stood there, a silhouette of danger and allure, his presence bending the light around him. Black hair fell in careless waves over a face carved with precision, high cheekbones, a chiselled jaw, and lips that hinted at both cruelty and temptation. But it was his eyes that paralyzed me: storm-gray, depthless, like the sky before a hurricane. They pinned me in place, stripping away any pretense of safety. Dangerous. Beautiful.

*The kind of man you should run from... but never would.*

His gaze raked over me, slow and deliberate, as if he could see every bruise, every fracture beneath my skin. My pulse thundered in my ears, a frantic drumbeat against the quiet of the room. I tried to speak, but my throat was almost as dry as sandpaper.

His fiery eyes raked over my whole body but I felt his gaze in between my legs.My eyes widened after I realized my hospital gown had slipped, the fabric pooling around my waist. My legs bare and my panties fully exposed. My cheeks burned as his lips curled into a smirk.

*No.*

I screamed, the sound raw and panicked, and jerked upright; only to be met with white-hot agony. My vision splintered. The heart monitor screeched a warning.

"*Don’t move!*" The command was a whip-crack, but it was too late. A sickening *snap* echoed through my bones, and the world tilted. Darkness swallowed me whole.

---

When I surfaced again, the room was a blur of motion. Doctors in blue scrubs swarmed the bed, their voices sharp with urgency. Cold fingers pressed against my wrist, my neck.

"*Please,*" one of them murmured, tightening a thick bandage around my arm. "Don’t move your right side. You’ll make it worse."

I wanted to laugh. *Worse?* How could anything be worse than lying here, broken and exposed under *his* gaze?

My vision blurred, then sharpened on the figure standing at the foot of my bed ;a tall, impeccably dressed man with sharp features and an unreadable expression.

“Let us be,” the handsome stranger said to the doctor, his voice smooth but commanding. His gaze never left me, even as the doctor hesitated, then withdrew with a respectful nod, closing the door behind him. The silence that followed was suffocating.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. “So… how big is ..” I caught myself, shaking my head. “No, wait. *Who are you?*”

The man’s lips twitched, though it wasn’t quite a smile. “My name doesn’t matter. I hit you with my car three days ago.”

“*Three days?!*” The words tore out of me, raw with disbelief. My hands clenched the thin hospital sheets. Had I really been unconscious for that long? The stranger’s eyes narrowed, irritation flashing across his face, and I immediately bit my tongue. With a shaky breath, I gestured for him to continue.

He straightened his cufflinks, his tone detached yet deliberate. “Call your family to come and get you. The hospital bills are settled, and I’ll compensate you further. State your price.”

The words should have been a relief, but they only twisted the knot in my stomach. I stared at the ceiling, counting the cracks in the tiles, before finally admitting, “I don’t have a family.”

A beat passed. Then another. The man’s expression didn’t change, but something flickered in his eyes; curiosity, perhaps, or pity. “Fine,” he said coolly. “Give me your address. I’ll have someone drop you off at your place tomorrow.”

I laughed; a hollow, brittle sound. “I don’t have one of those, either.”

This time, his composure cracked. His brows lifted, and he studied me as if I’d grown a second head. “No family. No home.” He crossed his arms, his voice dripping with skepticism. “Let me guess, no friends too?”

I held his gaze, the truth bitter on my tongue, and nodded.

For the first time, the stranger looked genuinely thrown. He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair, mussing it just enough to make him seem human. He stood up quickly, looking clearly annoyed and fed up and said " listen girl , I have no time for this. What the hell am I supposed to to with you then?!!"

"Help me" I said.

"With what" He said.

"I was on my way looking for a place to stay before I got hit by your car."I said.

He hissed and when he was about to leave the room I shouted "Wait!" The heart monitor spiked as I struggled upright. "You owe me!"

That stopped him cold. Slowly, he turned back, one eyebrow arched. "Excuse me?"

"You hit me with your car," I said, forcing strength into my voice. "Because of you, I can't walk. Can't work." I gestured to my casted limbs. "You need to help me."

A muscle ticked in his jaw. "I don't *need* to do anything."

"Please." I let my voice go soft, pleading. "I can cook. I can clean.I can do your dishes. I'll do anything." Lowering my head, I peeked up through my lashes and looked up with the best puppy eyes I could muster. "Just...please just let me stay with you until I heal?"

For a long moment, he just stared. Then he muttered something that sounded like "Oh, for f**k's sake," and stormed out.

I collapsed back onto the pillows, exhausted. I'd played my hand. Now all I could do was wait.

---

Morning light streamed through the blinds when I woke to the sound of hushed arguing outside my door.

"...absolutely out of the question..."

"...medical bills alone..."

"...responsibility..."

The door burst open to reveal my would be savior, his expression darker than a thunderhead. Behind him stood two enormous men in black suits the kind of men who made doors tremble when they walked through them.

The room held its breath.

Finally, he turned to one of his bodyguards. "Get her discharged. And for God's sake, find her something decent to wear."

As the men moved to obey, he gave me a look that made my blood run cold.

"Understand this; you're not a guest. You're an obligation. One wrong move, one moment of trouble, and you're back on the streets. Are we clear?"

I nodded so fast it made me dizzy.

He strode out without another word. The nurse who came to help me dress whispered, "Do you know who that is?"

I shook my head.

"That's Mason Voss." Her eyes were wide. "You're either the luckiest girl alive... or the stupidest."

As they wheeled me out to the sleek black car waiting at outside the hospital, I couldn't help but wonder the same thing.

The car glided through towering iron gates into a world I'd only seen in movies. A mansion sprawled before us, all glass and steel, looking more like a modern art museum than a home.

My stomach twisted. What had I gotten myself into?

The men's faces etched with cold indifference but still helped me out of the car and into a wheelchair. My legs were useless, my mind even more so. As the wheels rolled forward, the grandeur of the place swallowed me whole. The mansion loomed ahead, its architecture a blend of modern opulence and classical elegance, like something ripped from the pages of a billionaire’s fantasy. The grounds were immaculate, dotted with sculpted hedges and fountains that glittered under the afternoon sun.

But one fountain seized my attention. At its center stood a sculpture of a woman, her face tilted toward the sky, arms outstretched as if pleading with the heavens. Water cascaded from her parted lips. It was hauntingly beautiful, yet it sent a shiver down my spine.

The entrance hall was a symphony of white and grey pristine tiles, walls adorned with abstract art, and a chandelier that sparkled . A sofa the color of grey sat beneath it, facing a television so large it could’ve been a cinema screen. A dining table stretched into the distance, polished to a mirror finish, and the staircase… it spiraled upward like a promise of secrets waiting to be uncovered.

Every detail screamed luxury, but it was a cold luxury. Sterile. Unlived-in.

Then *he* appeared.

His voice cut through the air like a blade. “Are you done staring?”

I turned, and there he was the man who hit me with his car. His presence was overwhelming, his tailored suit clinging to broad shoulders, his eyes dark and unreadable. The air between us crackled with tension.

“Is this your house?” I managed to ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes,” he replied, his tone devoid of warmth.

“You have a very beautiful home.”

“I know.”

The arrogance in his words stung. Before I could protest, he nodded to one of his men. “Take her to a room.”

And just like that, he was gone.

The room they led me to was like I've ever imagined .A king-sized bed draped in silken sheets, a wardrobe filled with clothes that weren’t mine, and a floor to ceiling mirror that reflected my bruised and bewildered face. The walls were white and grey, his signature colors, it seemed.

I shifted on the bed, wincing as pain shot through my leg. Trusting him was out of the question. For all I knew, he could be some deranged killer who lured victims into his home under the guise of helping them. The thought made me laugh nervously—haha, just joking… but seriously, where was he? The house was too quiet.

I strained my ears, listening for footsteps, voices, anything. Maybe he was just another rich jerk who couldn’t be bothered to check on the person he’d injured. Or maybe he was worse. Either way, I wasn’t going to sit here waiting like some helpless damsel. If he didn’t come back soon, I’d have to go out there and confront him myself.

After waiting for what seemed like an hour, One of the bodyguards Marcus, I'd learned helped me into a wheelchair. "Mr. Voss will see you in his study," he said in a voice like gravel.

There were eye catching paintings hung on the walls. Through floor to ceiling windows, I could see a big and wide pool. I kept admiring the house until I got wheeled to the front of a large door. After leading into it, he bowed in respect to Mr Voss, went out and shut the door behind him.

Mason Voss stood by the fireplace, a glass of red liquid in his hand. Without turning, he said, "Your duties begin whenever you are completely healed. Meanwhile you can stay here for the time being. When you start working your salary will begin to count.The housekeeper will show you your responsibilities ."

I swallowed hard. "Thank you, Mr. Voss."

He finally turned, his expression unreadable. "Don't thank me yet." He said.