MARRIED TO THE COLD HEARTED BILLIONAIRE

Liana’s heart pounded as she gripped the edge of the marble sink, staring at her reflection like it might offer answers. She looked the same. Same tangled dark hair. Same freckles across her nose. Same tired eyes from late-night shifts and overdue rent. But her left hand told a different story. A ring. Diamond, square-cut, and sitting heavy on her finger like a dare. “Married,” she whispered, the word foreign in her mouth. “To a billionaire I don’t even know.” Her gaze darted to the white folder on the bathroom counter—Orion Hotel letterhead, and beneath it, a marriage certificate. Darius Blackwood. Her signature next to his. The ink had barely dried. There was a knock at the door. She froze. Another knock, firmer this time. “Liana.” The voice on the other side was deep. Sharp. Unnervingly calm. “We need to talk.” She opened the door just enough to see him. He looked like he’d stepped out of a Wall Street fantasy. Black tailored suit. Cufflinks that probably cost more than her car. And a face carved from control—jaw tight, mouth unsmiling, eyes unreadable. Darius Blackwood. The stranger she had somehow married. “I’m—” she started, then stopped. What did you say to a man like that? Sorry I accidentally married you? He didn’t wait for her to finish. “Sit down. There’s a contract I want you to sign.” “A contract?” she echoed. He walked into the room like he owned it. And maybe he did. “It’s a simple arrangement,” he said, setting a document on the glass table. “You stay married to me for one year. Publicly. You don’t ask questions. You follow my lead. In return, I’ll pay off your debts, plus a generous monthly stipend.” She stared at him. “You’re offering me money to stay married to you?” He met her gaze without flinching. “I’m offering you a solution. For both of us.” Liana felt her chest tighten. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. “Why?” she whispered. “Why me?” His lips twitched, not quite a smile. “Because I need a wife on paper. And you’re already mine.”