THE BILLIONAIRE’S ACCIDENTAL FIANCEE

Chapter Four

The car rolled onto a highway lined with trees that blurred into green streaks. I watched the clouds drift, their shapes slow and soft. The sound of the tires against the road was steady, hypnotic. For a while, neither of us spoke.

After a while, I asked, Why are you really doing this? The fiancée act.

He exhaled. My family thinks love fixes everything. They think I’ve lost touch with what matters. My mother’s hosting a charity gala this weekend. If I show up alone, she’ll set me up with every socialite in the room.

So I’m your shield? I asked

You’re my peace treaty. He replied

The faint humor in his voice softened me. And you trust me to pull it off?

He gave a small smile. You ran from a wedding in heels and didn’t look back. You’ll manage.

I almost smiled too. The way he said it wasn’t mocking. It sounded like quiet respect.

The road narrowed, winding through tall trees. We passed stone gates and long stretches of garden until the car stopped before a mansion that looked pulled from a movie. White columns, glass walls, and a driveway wide enough for a dozen cars. I swallowed hard. Everything about the place screamed money. And history.

The mansion looked like something pulled from a dream. White pillars stretched high, windows glimmered under soft evening lights, and the air carried the faint scent of roses and rain. I stood there, my heels sinking slightly into the gravel, staring at the house that would be my home for the next few weeks. My fake home.

Leo walked ahead without looking back. His stride was calm, steady, and controlled. The kind of control that came from years of being obeyed. He didn’t ask if I was ready. He didn’t ask if I was scared. He simply walked, and I followed.

Inside, the mansion opened into a marble hall. The walls were lined with paintings that probably cost more than my old apartment. A crystal chandelier hung above, scattering golden light across the floor. I felt like an intruder. A girl who didn’t belong.

A woman appeared from the corner, middle-aged, tall, dressed in black. Her smile was professional but not warm.

Welcome home, Mr. King. Your parents are expecting you in the west room.

Leo nodded once, his face unreadable. Then he looked at me. This is Zara, he said quietly. My fiancée.

The woman’s eyes flicked to me for a second. Her polite smile returned. Of course. Welcome, Miss Zara. Dinner will be served shortly.

She left, her steps echoing softly behind her.

Leo started walking again. I followed, trying to steady my breathing. The lie had begun.

We reached the west room. It was large, with long curtains, a polished piano, and a fire burning in the corner. Two older people stood near the sofa. I recognized them immediately. His parents.

Leo’s mother was graceful, her silver hair tied neatly, her posture perfect. His father looked serious, a man used to being listened to. Their eyes shifted from Leo to me.

Zara, my mother. My father, Leo said simply.

I smiled as best I could. It’s nice to meet you.

His mother’s gaze softened. So you’re the woman who has stolen our son’s attention. We were beginning to think no one ever would.

I laughed nervously, unsure what to say. Leo’s father only nodded, his expression unreadable.

We sat. A maid brought wine. The silence stretched thin.

Leo’s mother asked how we met.

I hesitated, Leo didn’t. He said we met in the city, that I was a writer working on a travel piece about his app. I went along with it, adding small details. My palms were damp, but I smiled through it. Every glance from his mother felt like a test.

After a few more questions, the conversation turned to business. His parents discussed an upcoming event, a charity gala. His mother wanted us to attend as a couple. Leo agreed without hesitation.

The weight of his words settled on me. That meant more pretending, more smiling, more lies.

When the conversation ended, we excused ourselves. As soon as the door closed behind us, I exhaled. My heart was racing.

You lied like you’ve done this before, he said quietly as we walked down the hall.

Maybe heartbreak makes you good at pretending, I said without thinking.

He didn’t respond.

The housekeeper led us to our rooms. She paused outside two doors across from each other. These will be your suites, she said politely, then left.

Leo opened his door and stepped inside. Before he closed it, he looked at me. Get some rest. Tomorrow will be worse.

The door shut.

I leaned against the wall. My chest ached with confusion. I was supposed to be relieved to have a roof over my head, a bed to sleep in, food to eat. But I felt lost.

I walked into my room. It was beautiful. The bed was large, the sheets white, the curtains golden. I dropped my bag and sat on the edge of the mattress.

I thought of my parents, of my friends, of the church filled with whispers and cameras. Somewhere, my name was still being dragged through gossip. Somewhere, Daniel was still pretending to be the victim.

And here I was, in a billionaire’s mansion, pretending to be his bride.

That night, I couldn’t sleep. I tossed under the sheets, replaying every moment since I ran from the altar. Leo’s face kept flashing in my mind. His calm voice, his silence, his guarded eyes. There was something about him that drew me in, something I didn’t want to admit.

Morning came too soon. I heard a knock.

Breakfast in thirty minutes, his voice said through the door.

I dragged myself up, showered, and dressed in one of the few dresses I had brought from my suitcase. When I stepped into the dining room, Leo was already seated, scrolling through his phone.

He looked up once, then returned to his screen.

You’re late.

Barely, I said, sitting down.

He said nothing else. The silence was heavy again, but I noticed something different. His eyes lingered on me for a second longer than usual.

The housekeeper poured our coffee and left.

So, I said slowly, what happens now

We will attend the gala tonight. You’ll need to smile. A lot. My family’s friends will be there. They’ll want to meet you.

I swallowed hard. Right.

He looked at me again. You’re shaking.

I laughed weakly. I’ve never pretended to be someone’s fiancée before breakfast.

His lips curved slightly, almost a smile. You’ll get used to it.

I doubted that.

After breakfast, he left for a meeting. I wandered through the garden alone. The flowers were trimmed perfectly. The air smelled clean. For a moment, I almost forgot everything. Then I remembered why I was here.