MARRIED TO THE WRONG BILLIONAIRE

CHAPTER 3

The vineyard was unusually quiet but Zander felt none of its peace. His hands were stained from work... soil under his nails, grease on his knuckles ... but his mind was miles away.

Something was wrong.

Since the day she had told him about her parents decision, he hardly saw her. Her parents made sure of it and he was lucky he still had his job.

So when she whispered to him that night by the stables... "We will run away together like you said. Midnight. South orchard"... he didn't hesitate. He nodded. And for the first time in days, she smiled. Zander threw his worn out bag on the workbench, fingers fumbling over the zipper. He wasn't sure what he needed to pack. Money? Clothes? Just her. Maybe that was enough.

His father stood at the doorway, arms folded. Filippo's eyes. "Where are you going?" he asked, voice low.

Zander didn't answer right away. He knew that tone. It was the one his father used when a storm brewed behind his calm.

"Somewhere safe," Zander said finally, zipping up the bag. "With Andrea."

Filippo stepped inside, the worn boards creaking under his boots. "She's a Gonzalez. That world... " he jabbed a finger at the estate lights glowing in the distance... "doesn't let its daughters run off with stable boys. You think they'll just let her vanish?"

"She's not their possession," Zander snapped. "She wants out. So do I."

"You don't understand. These people... " Filippo stopped himself, jaw tightening. "They don't lose."

Zander faced him. "Then they picked the wrong girl to cage."

A long silence stretched. The only sound was the chirp of crickets and the rustle of leaves through the cracked barn door.

"You love her?" Filippo asked, not unkindly.

Zander's eyes softened. "More than anything."

Filippo looked at his son... still so young, but with steel in his spine. Just like his mother had been.

Brave. Reckless. "Then don't go," he said. "They'll use her against you. Or worse."

"I can't just do nothing." Zander slung the bag over his shoulder. "I'd rather die on the run than rot in fear."

Filippo blocked his path. "Then I failed you. Because I raised you to fight smart... not blind."

The argument flared hotter than either intended. Zander threw words like knives, and Filippo caught them with a broken heart. When it ended, Zander walked out into the night, the bag slung across his back, his father's final words echoing behind him.

"She'll be the knife in your back, boy. Not because she wants to. But because she'll have no choice."

The moon hung low by the time Zander reached the ridge, breath shallow in his chest. He sat on the low stone wall overlooking the vineyard, unsure how long he waited before the crunch of polished shoes came behind him.

He turned, expecting Andrea.

It wasn't her.

Nathan Jimenez stood in a tailored charcoal coat, hands in his pockets, flanked by two silent men who melted back into the shadows with a gesture.

"Beautiful view, isn't it?" Nathan said, stepping beside him.

Zander stiffened. "What do you want?"

"Just a chat." Nathan sat on the wall like they were old friends. "About Andrea. And you." "I'm not interested in threats."

Nathan chuckled. "Threats are for amateurs. I came to make a deal."

Zander didn't speak. He didn't have to. His silence was steel.

Nathan continued. "Twenty million dollars. Cash. Offshore. All clean. All yours."

Zander blinked. "For what?"

"To walk away from Andrea. Tonight. No calls, no letters, no dramatic goodbyes. You disappear.

She marries me. You start a new life. Hell, buy a new identity if you want."

Zander's laugh was dry. "You think I'd sell her?"

"I think everyone has a price."

Zander looked out at the hills, the sky bleeding silver. "Then you've never been in love."

Nathan's smile thinned. "That's what poor people always say. Until the zeros stack high enough." "I'm not for sale. And neither is she."

Nathan studied him. "You realize she's already signed the contract?"

Zander's heart jolted, but he didn't let it show. "She didn't do it willingly."

Nathan shrugged. "Intentions don't matter. Only outcomes. And the outcome is this: she'll be mine.

Publicly. Legally. Permanently."

"Then why are you here offering me bribes?"

Nathan's eyes glinted. "Because she hasn't told you yet. She thinks she can save you. You think you can save her. And I find it all very tedious."

Zander rose, shouldering his bag. "Keep your money. And your lies."

Nathan stood too. "Walk away, Quinn. While you still have legs."

Zander's gaze was steady. "If you hurt her, I'll burn your world to ash."

Nathan's laugh echoed in the dark. "You poor little stable boy. You really think this is a love story?"

Zander stepped closer. "No. I think it's a war. And you just declared it."

He turned and walked into the night, leaving Nathan on the ridge.

Zander's boots crunched along the gravel road, his breath coiling in the night air. Every instinct screamed that something worse was coming, but he kept moving... toward Andrea, toward hope, toward freedom. The orchard was just over the next hill. They would run, vanish, start over.

He was so focused on the path ahead he didn't hear the van until it was too late.

Headlights flared behind him... no engine rumble, just the sudden blaze of blinding light. He spun, hand flying to shield his face, but the shadows were already moving. Fast. Silent.

Two figures emerged from either side of the van before he could blink. Tactical, masked, not the hired muscle from earlier... these men moved like wolves.

"What the... ?"

A punch landed in his gut before the sentence could finish. Air whooshed from his lungs. Another blow cracked across his temple. He stumbled backward, bag tumbling into the dirt.

Zander swung out, connected with a jaw, but a third figure grabbed his arm and twisted. Pain bloomed through his shoulder. He was dragged forward, feet scraping, heart pounding with useless resistance.

"Let me go!" he shouted, voice raw. "Andrea!"

A cloth was shoved over his mouth, the scent chemical, sharp. He thrashed, kicked... until a fist to his ribs made his vision blur. The world tilted. The trees became smears.

The van doors opened behind him, black and yawning like a grave. They threw him in without ceremony. He hit the metal floor hard, skull bouncing once before everything went dim.

Through the haze, he heard the doors slam. Chains rattled. One of the men sat across from him, calm, cradling a rifle like a lover.

Zander's breathing slowed. Every part of him hurt.

He blinked once. Twice.

And then he was gone.

----

Zander opened his eyes slowly, pain shot at the back of his skull, his ribs ached, and his mouth was dry.

The floor beneath him was cold, there were no windows, just dim yellow light buzzed overhead and flickering every few seconds like it might give up entirely.

He tried to move, but his hands were bound behind him with rope, wrists rubbed raw. Ankles too. He gritted his teeth, working to focus through the haze.

The room was empty, save for a single steel chair bolted to the floor across from him. A camera blinked red in the corner. Watching.

Where the hell was he?

His mind flashed back... headlights, fists, the van.

Andrea. He'd been on his way to her.

Panic surged.

Had they taken her too?

The door clicked.

His head snapped up, muscles tensing. He expected Nathan. A pair of guards. Maybe one of Jimenez's soulless goons here to rough him up.

He did not expect her.

Andrea walked in like a vision torn from a dream... and twisted into a nightmare.

She wore a red satin gown that clung to every curve, slit high on the thigh, glittering faintly in the low light. Her lips were painted a perfect, glossy crimson. Her hair, usually soft and undone, was pinned into a sleek, severe chignon. Diamond earrings sparkled at her ears. No bruises, no fear. Just polish. Precision.

Like she was dressed for a gala.

Or a funeral.

His.

Zander's mouth fell open. "Andrea... "

She paused a few steps inside the room, arms crossed lightly, expression unreadable.

He blinked. "Are you okay? Did they... did Nathan... ?"

She tilted her head. "You should stop asking questions no one's going to answer."

That voice. Cool. Detached. Nothing like the girl who used to sneak bread rolls from the kitchen to eat under the grapevines with him, who'd once cried when a bird flew into the greenhouse window and broke its wing.

His heart thudded. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

"This isn't you," he said hoarsely. "Why are you dressed like that? You hate red. You always said it made you feel like a stop sign."

Her eyes flicked down to her gown. "People change."

"Not like this."

Andrea took another step forward. Her heels clicked against the floor, sharp and echoing. "Zander, let's not make this harder than it has to be."

"What are you talking about?"

"I came here to say goodbye." Her voice was level. Perfectly measured. Like she was reciting lines. He struggled to sit up straighter. "Goodbye? What the hell is going on? Did Nathan make you say this?"

She laughed softly, the sound hollow. "Still clinging to that fantasy, huh?"

His mouth went dry.

Andrea crouched to his level, lips curving... not into a smile, but something sharper.

"I never loved you, Zander."

The words didn't register at first. They bounced around his brain like stray bullets.

He shook his head. "No. No, that's not true."

Her eyes glittered. "You were fun. Sweet, even. But let's be honest... you're a stable boy. A charity case my father let linger out of guilt. You thought that meant something?"

He stared at her like she was speaking another language. "Andrea, don't do this."

She stood, smoothing her gown. "Do what? Tell the truth? That you were a distraction while I waited for my real life to begin?"

"This isn't you," he whispered again. "Nathan threatened you, didn't he? He made you come here and say this."

She rolled her eyes. "Nathan didn't need to do anything. I saw what I needed to see."

"What the hell does that mean?"

She looked down at him, red lips parted slightly, as if weighing her next lie.

"Look at you," she said finally. "On your knees, in a basement, covered in dirt. This? This is your life. And I'm done pretending I want to live in it."

His chest felt like it was caving in.

"But the orchard. The letters. The necklace I gave you... "

She stepped closer and reached into her clutch, pulling out the silver chain with the tiny horseshoe charm he'd given her the night they'd first kissed. She let it dangle from her fingers for a second before dropping it at his feet like trash.

"Grow up, Zander. You don't get the girl just because you loved her harder."

Silence buzzed louder than the overhead lights.

Zander's throat burned. He wanted to believe this was a trick. That she was mouthing lines written by Nathan with a gun just offscreen. But her voice hadn't trembled. Her eyes hadn't softened. If she was faking, it was the most flawless performance he'd ever seen.

"I risked everything for you," he said, his voice breaking despite himself.

"And you'll live," she replied. "Take the twenty million. Start fresh. Buy your mother a nice house. Hell, buy yourself a new identity if it helps."

He stared up at her like she was a stranger.

"I don't want his money."

"Then take your pride," she snapped. "And leave. Just disappear."

The camera in the corner zoomed slightly. Zander noticed.

She wasn't alone in here. Even if she looked like it.

Maybe she never would be again.

She turned on her heel, heels clicking toward the door.

"Wait," he said.

She paused.

"I'll go," he whispered. "If that's what you want. I'll vanish. But you have to tell me something."

She didn't turn around.

"Was it real? Ever?"