The Billionaire's Contract Bride.

Layla Johnson's world had always been perfect until that morning. The call came at 7:13 AM. Her father's voice was shaking. "Layla, we lost everything. The company... the bank is taking the house. I have 48 hours to pay $500,000 or we are finished." Layla felt her heart drop. Just yesterday she was planning her wedding to Michael, her boyfriend of three years. Now her father was crying on the phone. She rushed to her father's office in Lagos. The building was empty. Workers had left. Her father, Chief Johnson, looked 10 years older. "Papa, what happened?" "Your fiance... Michael... he invested our money in a fake project. He ran away with your sister, Amara." What? Layla could not breathe. Michael and Amara? Her own sister? That same afternoon, while she was crying in a coffee shop, a black Rolls Royce stopped in front of her. A tall, handsome man in a black suit came out. Cold eyes. Powerful. "Are you Layla Johnson?" he asked. "Who are you?" "Alexander King." Everyone in Lagos knew that name. Billionaire. CEO of King Empire. The coldest billionaire who never smiles. Her father's biggest rival. "My assistant told me your father owes the bank. I can save him." Layla stood up. "Why will you help us? You hate my father." Alexander brought out a document and threw it on the table. "A contract. Marry me for one year. Be my contract bride. I need a wife to get my grandfather's inheritance of $100 million. My grandfather said I must marry before I am 30. I am 29." "Marry you? Are you crazy?" Layla shouted. "You have no choice. Your father goes to jail tomorrow if you don't. Your family loses everything. One year, $500,000 for your father, and you will live in my mansion. After one year, divorce and you get $2 million." Layla looked at the paper. Her hands were shaking. Marry a stranger? A cold billionaire? But her father's face came to her mind. Her sick mother in the hospital. "And what if I refuse?" Alexander smiled for the first time, but it was a dangerous smile. "Then you and your father will be on the streets tomorrow. And I will still get another woman to marry me." He walked closer to her. His cologne was strong. He lifted her chin with his finger. "You are beautiful, Layla. That is why I chose you. I have watched you for five years, since that night at the charity gala... you don't remember me, do you?" Layla pushed his hand away. "Don't touch me!" "You will. You will be my wife. You have 24 hours to decide." He dropped his card on the table and left. The Rolls Royce disappeared. Layla sat down, holding the contract. One year as a billionaire's wife. One year living with a cold, arrogant man who could destroy her with one look. But what choice did she have? She picked up her phone and called her father. "Papa... I think I have a way to save us." That night, Alexander King was in his penthouse, looking at a picture of Layla from five years ago. A young Layla in a white dress, laughing. "Finally, you will be mine, Layla Johnson," he whispered. "One way or the other."