MARRIED TO THE WRONG BILLIONAIRE

CHAPTER 2

FEW DAYS EARLIER

The vineyard was golden under the late-afternoon sun, each grapevine casting long, wavering shadows over the dirt paths. Somewhere in the distance, a bird called out, its cry sharp and lonely. Andrea stood just beyond the stables, arms folded on the top rail of the fence, watching Zander as he coaxed a temperamental stallion into a trot.

He was all sunburnt skin and effortless control, his hands steady on the reins, his posture unshakable. The horse resisted once... twice... but Zander didn't raise his voice. He never did. He just waited, patient as the dawn, until the animal understood he wasn't a threat.

Andrea smiled, one hand lifting to block the glare as he turned the horse in a perfect half-circle.

"You're showing off," she called.

Zander threw her a grin over his shoulder. "You're watching. What else am I supposed to do?" She shook her head, heart aching in the best way. She didn't know how it had happened... this soft, secret thing between them... but it had bloomed in the quiet corners: late-night walks, shared meals in the stables, hands brushing over reins and saddle straps. He looked at her like she wasn't some ornament wrapped in silk and family legacy. He looked at her like she mattered.

"You done flirting with the horses?" she asked as he led the stallion back to the fence.

"Jealous?"

"Maybe."

Zander raised a brow, tying the reins loosely before hopping the fence. "I've only ever had eyes for one stubborn, sharp-tongued heiress."

Andrea rolled her eyes. "You forgot beautiful."

"Never."

She tried to fight the smile and failed. He reached for her hand, callused fingers warm around hers.

His thumb traced lazy circles across her knuckles.

"You staying for supper?" he asked.

She hesitated. "I wish. But there's a family dinner tonight. Some investor thing Papa insists I attend."

Zander's expression flickered. "The same one from last week?"

She nodded. "Some big partnership in the works. He won't say who."

Zander's jaw tightened the way it always did when she talked about her parents' plans. "And you have to play the good daughter."

"I have to play their daughter." Andrea sighed and leaned into his side, cheek against his shoulder.

"But I'll sneak out after dessert. Meet you by the old olive tree?"

"Midnight?"

"Earlier if I can." She tilted her face up to his. "Promise me you'll be there."

Zander cupped her jaw. "Always."

Their kiss was slow, unhurried... the kind of kiss that came with knowing this might be the only softness the day would offer. He smelled like hay and warm wood, like something safe and constant.

When she pulled away, her eyes were glassy.

"I hate leaving you."

"Then stay."

Andrea gave a breath of laughter. "Tempting."

He caught her wrist before she turned. "One more thing." From his pocket, he pulled a small chain... a necklace, simple silver, no pendant.

"I don't need a gift," she said, though her voice had gone soft.

"It's not a gift. It's a promise." He clasped it around her neck, then let his fingers rest against her collarbone. "So you remember. No matter where you go, you're still mine."

She blinked fast. "Zander"

He kissed her again, lighter this time. "Go. Before I convince you to burn the whole vineyard down and run."

She grinned. "Tempting," she repeated.

Then she was walking away, fingers curled around the chain at her throat. She didn't look back. She didn't want to see the way he watched her... like he knew something was shifting under their feet.

The dining room glowed with golden light, chandeliers casting warm halos over polished silver and crystal goblets. Andrea entered in a soft green dress, her hair swept back, her heels echoing against the stone floor. She wore Zander's chain beneath the silk, tucked where no one would see.

Her parents were already seated at the table. Blake Gonzalez's glass was half-full of scotch; Sofia sipped white wine without tasting it. The tension in the room was a living thing, sharp-edged and strange.

"Sorry I'm late," Andrea said lightly, settling into the seat opposite them. "Got caught up in the stables."

Neither of them responded right away.

Andrea frowned. "Did I miss something?"

Blake set his glass down with a dull clink. "We need to talk, Andrea."

She stilled. Her father only used that tone when he was about to ruin something.

Sofia reached across the table, laying a manicured hand over her daughter's. "You won't like it," she said softly.

Andrea pulled her hand away. "Then maybe don't say it."

Blake sighed. "This isn't about want. It's about necessity."

Andrea's stomach turned. "What did you do?"

Sofia's lips trembled. "It's already done."

"I swear to God, if you sold part of the estate... "

"You're marrying Nathan Jimenez," Blake said.

Silence.

The room shrank. The walls closed in.

Andrea stared at him. "What?"

"You're getting engaged this week. It's arranged. The papers are ready."

She let out a stunned laugh. "No. No, you can't be serious."

Blake didn't flinch. "It's already finalized. The announcement goes out Friday."

"You're insane," she breathed. "He's a criminal."

"He's a billionaire," Sofia said, like that fixed everything.

"He's dangerous."

"He's necessary," Blake snapped. "We are weeks from collapse. Our accounts are frozen, the vineyard's leveraged to the roots, and the Jimenez Group is the only thing keeping us out of bankruptcy."

Andrea shook her head, voice rising. "So you sell me like property? Is that what I am to you?"

"You're our only leverage," Blake said coldly. "And Nathan made it clear... he doesn't want the land.

He wants you."

Andrea felt like she'd been punched. "I'm with Zander."

"Zander is irrelevant," her father said.

Sofia's eyes filled with tears. "We're so sorry, Andrea. We didn't know what else to do."

Andrea pushed back from the table, breath coming fast. "You could've asked. You could've warned me."

"And what would you have said?" Blake asked. "No? Run off with the help? Throw away your legacy for some farm boy fantasy?"

"He's more of a man than Nathan will ever be," she spat.

"And yet, it's Nathan who's going to save us," Blake said quietly.

Andrea stood, hands clenched at her sides. "I'm not doing it. I don't care what you signed. I won't marry him."

"It's not a choice," Blake said.

The words hit her like ice water. "What?"

Sofia covered her mouth.

Andrea stared at them... these strangers in her parents' clothes. Her father, cold and practical. Her mother, weeping but complicit. They had signed her away. Offered her like cattle at auction.

"I need air," she choked out, then fled the room.

She ran until she reached her room, slammed the door, and locked it. Her breaths came fast, shallow. She tore the chain from her neck and pressed it to her lips.

Zander didn't know.

Andrea slid to the floor, curling around the necklace. It still smelled like him. Like hope.

She didn't cry. Not yet. She was too numb for that.

But a storm was building under her skin.

And if they thought she would go quietly, they didn't know her at all.

**

The black Maserati rolled up the drive like a vulture circling a dying deer. Sunlight bounced off its polished hood as the engine purred to a stop in front of the grand Gonzalez estate.

Andrea watched from the second-floor balcony, arms folded, spine stiff.

"He's early," she muttered, her voice low and sharp. She didn't blink as the driver opened the rear door.

Nathan Jimenez stepped out.

Dark navy suit, crisp as a blade. Black shirt. No tie. The kind of elegance that whispered power and promised pain. He adjusted his cuffs like he was preparing to dissect someone.

Andrea's nails bit into her palms. "Let him come," she said under her breath. "I'll be ready."

Downstairs, the drawing room had been arranged like a diplomatic parlor. Her mother had insisted on fresh white lilies. Her father had sent the staff home early. Privacy. Always a sign something ugly was about to happen.

Andrea descended the stairs with a grace she didn't feel, heels clicking like gunfire. She'd worn red. Not soft red. Not wine. War red. The kind that made men look twice and think twice harder.

When she entered the room, Nathan was already there, seated, sipping from a crystal tumbler like he owned the place. Blake and Sofia flanked him, seated on opposite ends of the long velvet couch, tension thick as fog.

He stood when he saw her. Smiled.

Andrea didn't smile back.

"You're not what I expected," he said smoothly, eyes raking her from head to toe. "Your parents made you sound... fragile."

"And you made yourself sound human," she replied coolly. "I guess we both disappoint."

Her mother winced. Blake cleared his throat. "Andrea... "

"No." She raised a hand, silencing him without looking. Her eyes locked on Nathan. "Let's not pretend this is some pleasant visit. You're here for business. Let's talk business."

Nathan tilted his head, amused. "Straight to it, then. I like that." He reached inside his jacket, pulled out a slim leather folder, and placed it on the coffee table between them. "The terms haven't changed."

She didn't touch it. "You flew all the way here to hand-deliver disappointment?"

He chuckled. "Not disappointment. Destiny."

Andrea sat, crossing one leg over the other. "Funny. My destiny smells like blackmail and rotting ambition."

Sofia flinched. "Andrea, please... "

Nathan raised a hand, silencing her. "It's alright, Mrs. Gonzalez. Your daughter's fire is refreshing."

Andrea leaned in, her voice low and sharp. "Don't flirt with me, Mr. Jimenez. You'll get burned."

He studied her, something cold glinting behind his calm. "Is that a threat or a promise?"

"It's a fact."

A beat of silence. Then she stood. Walked to the fireplace and turned to face all three of them. "I'm not marrying you," she said clearly. "Not for money. Not for influence. Not to save this crumbling empire you're all pretending still stands. And not because of some desperate deal my parents made behind my back."

Nathan stood too, slower. "You don't get to opt out, Andrea. This isn't prom. It's a contract. One your family begged me to agree to."

"And one I never signed." She tilted her head. "Your mistake was thinking I'm just a pretty signature."

Nathan stepped closer. "You think your father told me yes without knowing he could control your answer?"

Blake winced. "Andrea, we can't afford... "

"I don't care." She didn't look at him. "You want to sell your daughter for stock options, fine. But don't expect me to sit quietly while you hand me off like a relic."

Her mother stood, face pale. "Darling, it's not like that... "

"It's exactly like that," Andrea snapped. "You all made your little deal and assumed I'd smile and curtsy. Well... the circus is over. I am in love with Zander and we have been together for 5 years. He sees me. Not my last name. Not the vineyard. Not the price tag. Me."

Nathan's nostrils flared.

Blake's voice dropped. "Andrea, you can't say these things in front of... "

"Why not?" she snapped. "You're ashamed of love now?"

Nathan's fingers curled at his sides. "Love," he repeated, almost laughing. "You think love is going to keep your family afloat? You think it'll keep your vineyard out of foreclosure? Feed your staff? Pay off the debts your father gambled into the ground?"

Andrea's gaze didn't waver. "I'd rather lose every grape in this valley than give you my life in exchange for your pride."

Nathan stepped closer. Close enough she could smell his cologne... something

expensive, "Tick-tock," he said. "Let's see how long your little fairy tale lasts before I burn it down." The front door slammed behind him.