6 months with the billionaire

‎ ‎The slap echoed louder than his words. ‎ ‎Reilly stood frozen in the study, cheek burning, tears blurring the edges of her father’s face. This wasn’t him. Her father used to braid her hair and let her win at chess. That was before the air crash. Before Mom became a name on a tombstone. ‎ ‎“Father, I’m not getting married,” she whispered. Her voice shook, but she forced herself to hold his eyes. “Not to a stranger.” ‎ ‎“We need the investment, Reilly,” Selene said from the doorway. Her stepmother’s red nails tapped against her champagne glass. “Don’t be selfish.” ‎ ‎“Selfish?” Reilly laughed, wet and broken. “You want to sell me off for money? Then pick one of your daughters. They’d love the title.” ‎ ‎The second slap never came. But the look on her father’s face was worse. Cold. Final. ‎“You’ll not ruin the Stephens name,” he said, each word like a door closing. “You’ll marry Liam Hemsworth. The contract is signed.” ‎ ‎He walked out. Selene followed, heels clicking. At the door she turned, smiled sweetly. “Sacrifices, darling. That’s what family does.” ‎ ‎The room emptied. Silence rushed in. ‎ ‎Reilly slid down the wall until she sat on the cold marble floor. They always said family meant sacrifices. Funny how the sacrifices always had her name on them. Her stepsisters got dresses and debutante balls. She got debts and a husband she’d never met. ‎ ‎If only Mom hadn’t boarded that plane. ‎If only the ocean had given her back. ‎ ‎Reilly pressed her palm to the locket under her shirt. Gold. Warm. The last thing Mom ever gave her. ‎“Mom,” she breathed into the quiet. “I don’t know how to do this without you.” ‎ ‎Outside, rain started against the windows. Six months, the contract said. Six months with a billionaire who didn’t want her. ‎ ‎She wiped her face with the back of her hand. She could cry later. Right now, she had to learn how to survive. ‎ ‎