Married to the Billionaire Stranger

Chapter Two: The Billionaire’s Rules

Damian Blackwood didn’t wait for me when we arrived at his penthouse. He walked ahead, his coat flaring behind him like a cloak.

I stepped inside and immediately knew: this was not a home. It was a kingdom. Stark. Modern. Cold. Just like him.

"Your room is down the hall," he said, pointing without looking.

"My room?"

"This isn’t a fairytale, Ariella. It’s a deal."

So much for newlywed bliss.

He sat at his desk, loosened his tie, and clicked through emails. "There are rules. In public, we play the part. You smile, wear the ring, act devoted. In private, stay out of my way."

"You don’t even know me," I whispered.

His eyes flicked to mine. "Exactly. Let’s keep it that way."

I walked to my room, head high, but heart breaking.

At the first public event, the cameras flashed like lightning. Damian's hand rested on my waist like I was a trophy.

The moment the doors closed behind us at home, he vanished into his study.

But I heard him on the phone.

"No, she doesn’t know about the shares yet. She thinks this is just about her father’s debt."

Shares?

So it was deeper than I thought.

I wasn’t just a wife.

I was leverage.