Married to My Enemy: Billionaire’s Bait

Nancy’s POV I could hardly hear what the priest was saying as I stood in front of my father's coffin. As though it were the only thing holding me up, my fingers tightened around the edges of my black dress. All around me, cameras clicked. So-called family friends exchanged glances that were more powerful than words, as reporters said behind dark sunglasses. "Have you heard?" Behind me, one whispered. "All her father left was debt." "Insolvent. "Done," a second growled. "Before his death, he was the subject of a fraud investigation." The lump in my throat was swallowed. Edward Whitmore, my father, was a proud guy. I understood that, despite his shortcomings, Dad had made an effort to keep my mother and me safe. Now, however, shame was all that remained. I looked at my mom next to me. Her lips were quivering, and her eyes were vacant. Since the news broke, she hadn't said much. Mr. Raymond Hayes, one of my father's former business associates, drew me aside following the ceremony. As a child, he had been like a godfather to me. His expression was taut, almost too composed for the circumstance. Nancy, we must speak. Privately. I gave a numb nod. I was too worn out to give a damn. And we sat in the living room back at our house, or what was left of it. There were boxes everywhere. What little we had left was already being packed by the movers. I whispered, "Ray, please tell me this is just an error." "Tell me that none of those things were done by my dad." His sigh was long and heavy. "I wish I could." Edward, however, was drowning. He made every effort to keep the business afloat, but it was too late. The vultures are now circling. I crossed my arms. "So what? Do we lose everything? I may begin anew.” Slowly, Raymond shook his head. "Nancy, it's not that easy. There were many scary people your father owed, and the name of your family has been banned. No credit, no job, no house. You are the target, as is your mother.” My eyes went cold, and I blinked. "So, what do you say?" He opened a brown envelope and passed a document over the table. "There is an answer. An escape route” I stared down. Pact for marriage. "What on earth is this?" “Andrew Valtieri is open to getting married to you. He now owns the majority of your father's businesses and debts. He will protect you and your mother if you accept. You will be financially secure. You will live.” I had trembling hands. “He is the same one who destroyed my father's business. Why would I wed him?” Raymond bent over. "Because you are powerless." “By the end of the week, you and your mother will either be homeless or you will become his wife.” I had no desire to go. But I required clarification. In the middle of the city, Valtieri Enterprises sat like a steel beast. Glass, metal, and quiet. Everything about it screamed control. The top floor was shown to me. His office included an intimidating desk that likely cost more than my father's automobile, dark wood, and gold embellishments. With his phone in hand and his voice low and harsh, Andrew Valtieri stood by the window. "If they don't meet our figure, cancel the merger. No exclusions. He turned slowly after hanging up. I had forgotten his height. Ice-cold eyes, dark hair, and a well-tailored suit. Arrogance permeated the air around him. He smirked and said, "Nancy Whitmore." "Have you come to express gratitude or plead?” I tensed up. “I came to inquire as to why. Why me?” He said with ease, "Because you're desperate." “And you're needed by me. For show.” "For show?" With his hands in his pockets, he approached me. "A family man is preferred by my board. A redemption arc appeals to investors. And marrying the destitute daughter of the man I destroyed? That’s PR gold.” I looked at him in bewilderment. "So I am merely a puppet in your performance?" He furrowed his brow. "A lovely puppet, if that's helpful." "You're a monster." He smiled icily. "But here you are." I said in a whisper, "I won't do it." "Look for another person to portray your wife." He returned to his workstation. "You'll return. You'll come crawling when you understand how little of a choice you have.” With my legs trembling and my cheeks flaming, I bounded out of his office. If he was correct, it didn't matter to me. That was not how I was going to market myself. Everything was messed up by the time I got home. The gates were open. They had unlocked the front door. I saw strangers moving along the hallway, packing up items as if they were the owners. "Hi!" I shouted. "Who are you? What are you doing?” A uniformed man approached me. "The property has been confiscated, ma'am. The Whitmore estate is controlled by the bank.” "No. This is my home, not this!” "Now you're intruding. You must go.” Nevertheless, my heart thumping, I ran inside. "Mom? Mom!” I discovered her in the living room with two medics by her side, her arms encircling herself. One of them added softly, "She's being placed under psychiatric evaluation." "Her mental health has suffered as a result of the stress." "Please, don't take her, please! I can look after her; I'm here!” However, it was too late. They escorted her out of the residence. Amid strangers and empty boxes, I stood motionless. It buzzed on my phone. A call from an unidentified number. "Tick-tock, my love. Are you prepared to be a wife yet?”— A.V. I looked down at the marriage contract that I was still holding tightly. My knees buckled. And I realised at that very instant... He had prevailed. However, it wasn't over yet. Not quite yet.