The Billionaire's Accidental Bride

I came to Vegas to forget. Forget the ruined contract. Forget the company that backstabbed me. Forget that my savings account had more zeros than actual digits. So I did what any responsible adult would do—I got drunk. Very drunk. “I dare you to marry me,” I slurred to the insanely attractive man who’d been watching me from across the bar all night. He smirked. “Deal.” And just like that, we stumbled into a chapel, laughing like fools. I remember the lights, the cheap plastic bouquet, and how his hand felt warm and solid in mine. His name? I never caught it. “I now pronounce you husband and wife.” We kissed. The world spun. And then… black. The next morning, my head throbbed. I sat up in a ridiculously luxurious hotel suite. What the hell? There was a ring on my finger. And beside me, still asleep, was the man from the bar. Shirtless. Tattoo on his ribs. Unreasonably handsome. I stared at the ring again. No. No. No. I reached for my purse, praying it was all a dream. Then he stirred, opened his eyes—and smirked like the devil. “Well, Mrs. Hart,” he said, voice husky. “Ready for round two?” I froze. “Hart?” He raised a brow. “Cole Hart. You didn’t know?” My blood ran cold. Cole. Freaking. Hart. The billionaire who ruined my life