The Billionaire's Temporary Bride

My bank account: $42.18. My rent: $3,000 due TODAY. And Mr. Johnson was banging on my bakery door like he wanted to kill me. "Scarlett Monroe! I know you are in there! Rent is due TODAY or you pack up and leave!" Then my phone rang. Private number. "Is this Scarlett Monroe? I have a $100,000 offer for you. Be my temporary bride." Just then, Mr. Johnson, my landlord, started banging on the glass door so hard I thought it would shatter. His face was red with anger. "Scarlett Monroe! I know you are in there! Rent is due TODAY or you pack up and leave! No more excuses! You have owed me for three months!" My heart was beating so fast. I wiped the flour off my shaking hands onto my apron, trying not to cry. This bakery, "Sweet Memories," was all I had left of my mother. She died last year and left it to me. If I lose it, I lose the last piece of her. "Mr. Johnson, please, give me two more days! I have a big wedding cake order coming!" I lied. I had no orders. Nobody ordered cakes from a failing bakery in this part of town anymore. "I have given you 90 days! No more!" he shouted and walked away into the rain. I slid down to the cold floor, tears finally falling. How did my life get to this? I had a degree in business, but I quit my job to take care of my mom when she was sick. Now I was 26, broke, alone, and about to be homeless. My phone rang, breaking my sobs. A private number. I almost didn't answer. But something told me to pick it up. "Hello?" my voice was hoarse. "Is this Scarlett Monroe? The