OOPS! I MARRIED A BILLIONAIRE.

CHAPTERFOUR: MRS. BLACKWOOD

Amara

I woke up with the mother of all hangovers. My head felt like someone was using a jackhammer inside my skull, my eyes were heavy and gritty, and my entire body felt weak and boneless.

I fluttered my eyes open, blinking slowly as I tried to make sense of the world. Two figures hovered above me, staring down like they were waiting for a miracle.

“She’s awake,” Williams whispered.

My vision finally cleared. Of course — it was the perfect couple: Williams and Justin.

“What… what’s going on?” My voice came out cracked and raspy. My head throbbed violently as I tried to sit up. Williams helped me, but he had this suspicious, amused glint in his eyes that immediately made me nervous.

“Hi, future Mrs. Blackwood,” Williams said, barely holding back his laughter.

Justin shot him a sharp look. “This is a very serious matter, Williams.”

Williams raised both hands in surrender, but his shoulders were still shaking with suppressed laughter.

I rubbed my temples, trying to piece together the night. “I… I can’t remember much. How did I even get here?” I looked around desperately for my phone.

“Amara,” Justin said, his tone suddenly grave. “I need to talk to you.”

My stomach dropped. That tone never meant anything good.

“What happened?” I asked, fear creeping into my voice.

Justin took a deep breath. “Yesterday, you walked into the VIP section and asked Ethan Blackwood for a job. Do you remember that part?”

“Yes… and he said he would give me one,” I nodded quickly, clinging to that small hope.

“He intended to give you a job at one of his firms upstate,” Williams added, still fighting a grin.

“Intended?” I repeated, dread building.

“But…” Justin continued, exchanging a glance with Williams, “you signed some documents you weren’t supposed to.”

He handed me the papers. The same ones I had signed so proudly last night.

Williams finally lost the battle and burst into loud, uncontrollable laughter. Justin looked genuinely sorry for me.

I stared at the documents, my wobbly, drunken signature staring back at me. As I read the first paragraph, my heart stopped.

This wasn’t a job contract.

It was a marriage contract.

A legally binding marriage agreement between me — Amara John — and Ethan Blackwood.

My eyes widened in pure horror. I flipped to the second page. Signed. Third page. Also signed. All three pages carried my messy signature.

“What the hell was I thinking?” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

“f**k…”

I shut my eyes tightly, regret crashing over me like a tidal wave.

“Girl, I told you not to do anything stupid!” Williams howled, wiping tears from his eyes. “But you went and got married instead — hahaha!”

I dropped my head into my hands, utterly humiliated. Justin placed a comforting hand on my shoulder, but even he couldn’t hide his pity.

This couldn’t be real.

I wasn’t supposed to be here. I wasn’t the girl who accidentally married a billionaire. I was a mess — an actual, walking disaster who couldn’t even keep a normal job for three months.

How on earth was I now Mrs. Ethan Blackwood?

“I can’t get married to Ethan Blackwood,” I whispered, my voice shaking as I clutched Justin’s hands like he was my last lifeline. “I’m a walking disaster, Justin. I’ll ruin him. I’ll probably set his mansion on fire or accidentally feed his goldfish tequila. I ruin everything I touch.”

Justin looked at me with a mixture of pity and seriousness that made my stomach twist.

“I’m not worried about you ruining him, Amara,” he said quietly. “I’m worried about him ruining you.”

His words hit me like ice water. A chill ran down my spine — the same cold, unsettling feeling I had felt the moment I first saw Ethan in that VIP section. Powerful. Dangerous. Untouchable.

For a second, the room felt smaller.

“Girl, we’ve got some serious planning to do,” Williams cut in, rubbing his hands together like we were about to plan a heist.

“I can’t do this, Williams,” I whispered, lowering my voice dramatically on the word billionaire. “I can’t marry a billionaire. I still have instant noodles in my cupboard and unpaid rent. My idea of a fancy dinner is adding extra cheese to my microwave meal.”

“Well, too late for that, babe,” Williams said with a shrug. “You’re already married. Legally. On paper. Congratulations, Mrs. Blackwood.”

I groaned and buried my face in my hands.

“Justin,” I pleaded, turning back to him desperately. “You’re a lawyer. There has to be something you can do. An annulment? A loophole? Anything?”

Justin sighed heavily, looking genuinely sorry. “Unfortunately, no. You signed it willingly — enthusiastically, even. You were smiling, spinning around, and calling it ‘the best decision of your life.’ Ethan’s lawyers already have everything processed.”

“You should’ve stopped me!” I yelled, throwing my hands up.

“I tried, Amara. Multiple times,” Justin said, rubbing his temples. “We’ve been trying to find Ethan a suitable bride for months. He’s… not good with women. Most of them get scared off by his personality. Cold. Intense. Controlling. But when you walked in last night, boldly asking for a job and then signing those papers like it was a game… he was delighted. He actually smiled. I haven’t seen him do that in years.”

He’s not good with women? For f**k’s sake.

I stared at the ceiling, feeling completely overwhelmed. “What am I going to do now?”

“Well, I helped you with one small thing,” Williams said, holding up his phone. “I told your brother you’re going on a sudden work trip. He bought it… for now.”

“Wait, why would you—”

“Because Ethan is coming to pick you up in less than an hour,” Justin added softly, watching me like I was a lost puppy about to be taken to the pound.

The words sank in slowly.

An hour.

Ethan Blackwood — the man I accidentally married — was coming here. To pick me up.

My heart hammered against my ribcage. I looked down at myself: oversized t-shirt, messy hair, puffy hangover eyes, and yesterday’s makeup still smudged on my face.

“Can my life get any worse?” I whispered, voice cracking.

Williams patted my shoulder. “Knowing you, babe? Probably. But at least you’ll be rich while suffering.”

I dropped back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling in defeat as panic and disbelief swirled inside me.

Mrs. Ethan Blackwood.

What the hell had I done?

Moments later, I stood in front of the full-length mirror, barely recognizing the woman staring back at me.

Williams had worked his magic. He had dressed me in a stunning, floor-length sapphire-blue satin gown that hugged my body gently before flowing elegantly to the ground. The strapless design left my shoulders bare, giving me a graceful, almost regal look. My hair was neatly pulled back into a sleek, sophisticated updo, with soft tendrils framing my face. The color of the dress made my brown eyes pop beautifully, and the subtle makeup Williams applied highlighted my features — a touch of shimmer on my lids, a soft blush, and a nude lip that made me look polished and feminine.

I brushed my hands slowly down the cool, silky fabric, feeling the luxurious material glide under my palms. I looked… beautiful. Elegant. Like someone who actually belonged in a billionaire’s world.

But all I could see was fear.

My heart hammered heavily in my chest as the reality settled deeper. I was about to be taken away by a man I barely knew — a cold-hearted billionaire who probably cared little for anyone’s feelings but his own. Ethan Blackwood. My accidental husband.

He wouldn’t care about my chaotic thoughts or my tendency to ramble about meaningless things like ducks or glass slippers. I wouldn’t be allowed to speak freely, to be my messy, distracted self. Everything about me would have to be filtered, controlled, perfect. That wasn’t the future I had imagined when I dreamed about love and marriage. I had wanted someone warm, someone who would laugh at my silly stories, not someone who would silence them.

A heavy sigh escaped my lips. My thoughts were spiraling again, drowning me in anxiety and self-doubt.

I forced a small, shaky smile at my reflection, trying to gather whatever courage I had left.

“Stay composed, Amara,” I whispered to myself, my voice barely audible. “Be in order. Just… breathe.”

“Knock knock,” Williams’ voice came from the doorway, light but carrying weight. “Your husband’s here.”

I froze. My feet refused to move. My reflection in the mirror showed wide, frightened eyes. I wasn’t ready. I really wasn’t ready.

Williams sighed softly and walked over to me. He stopped behind me, placing his warm hands gently on my bare shoulders. Our eyes met in the mirror.

“You’ve got this, Amara,” he said softly, his voice full of genuine reassurance. “And I’m always going to be here for you. No matter what happens. Every step of the way.”

His words wrapped around my heart like a warm blanket. Tears stung the back of my eyes, but I blinked them away and smiled back at him through the mirror — a small, grateful smile.

Williams had always been more than a friend. He was my safe place, my loudest cheerleader, and my voice of reason when everything fell apart. In this terrifying new chapter, knowing he would still be there meant more than I could express.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady the storm inside me.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

He gave my shoulders a gentle squeeze, then stepped back.

“Come on, Mrs. Blackwood,” he said with a soft, encouraging smile. “Your billionaire is waiting.”

I glanced at my reflection one last time — the beautiful dress, the elegant hair, the fearful eyes — and prayed I wouldn’t completely fall apart the moment I faced Ethan Blackwood.