Hired By My Billionaire Baby Daddy

Claire On my wedding night, I discovered that my marriage was a lie. My husband stood inside the hotel bathroom with the door slightly open, his back turned to me as he laughed into his phone, completely unaware that I was only a few steps away. "I told you she'd fall for it," he said with a smug chuckle. "The marriage certificate is fake. She wouldn't have s*x with me before marriage because she claimed to be a virgin, so I gave her the wedding she wanted. Tonight's finally the night. A virgin's first time sells for a fortune online." My world stopped. The white lace lingerie hidden beneath my robe suddenly felt heavier than my wedding dress. I'd bought it only hours ago, blushing the entire time because I wanted tonight to be special. I wanted to give myself to the man I believed loved me enough to respect my boundaries. No... I had to be hearing this wrong. Eric wouldn't say something like that. We'd exchanged vows only hours ago. He had slipped a ring onto my finger, smiled as he brushed away my tears, and promised that I would never regret marrying him. Grandma had held his hand with trembling fingers and thanked him for loving me. He had smiled back without hesitation and promised to take care of me forever. The man laughing inside that bathroom couldn't possibly be the same man I'd married. Then he laughed again. "I've waited months for this payout. After tonight, we'll never have to worry about money again. I've already set up hidden cameras. She won't even notice them. After tonight, I'll ghost her.” The last piece of hope inside me shattered. I was nothing more than a product. A business opportunity. The bouquet slipped from my trembling fingers and landed on the floor without a sound. Eric turned just then. His smile vanished. His phone nearly slipped from his hand as our eyes met. "Claire..." His face drained of color as panic flashed across his features. "It's... it's not what you think." The words snapped something inside me. I crossed the room in two quick strides. Slap! The crack echoed through the suite, snapping his head to the side. "You're a liar!" My voice broke as tears poured uncontrollably down my cheeks. "Tell me I heard wrong! Tell me you didn't just call our marriage fake!" He slowly turned back to face me, one hand pressed against his reddening cheek. "Claire, just listen to me. You're misunderstanding everything." I let out a broken laugh. "Misunderstanding?" I stared at him in disbelief. "I heard every single word, Eric. Every. Single. Word." Silence filled the room. For a second, panic flickered across his face, like he was hunting for one more lie to pull him out of this. Then, right in front of me, the man I'd fallen in love with disappeared. The warmth in his eyes died. His shoulders relaxed. Even his voice changed. "Fine," he said flatly. "You know. You wouldn't sleep with me because you claimed to be a virgin. I had no choice. This is your fault. If you'd just given yourself to me, I wouldn't have had to go this far." Disgust rolled through me. I lunged for our luggage, fingers shaking so badly I could barely work the zipper. I tore through everything until I found the marriage certificate we'd signed so proudly that afternoon. The fake certificate. The fake marriage. The fake love. A strangled laugh escaped me, closer to a sob, as I ripped it down the middle again and again. The pieces drifted to the floor like they meant nothing. Just like I apparently never had. "I'm done!" I screamed, grabbing the framed wedding photos and hurling them at the wall. Glass exploded. I tore the ring off my finger and threw it after them. It bounced across the marble and vanished under the bed. Eric's expression darkened. "Claire, calm down." "Calm down?" I wiped at my tears, laughing bitterly. "You tricked me into marrying you." His jaw tightened. Whatever mask he'd been wearing finally slipped. "Fine. You want the truth? People already paid for tonight. One night, Claire. That's all you had to do. We'd both be rich. Don't ruin your chance. Your grandmother needs treatment, doesn't she? This solves everything." My stomach lurched. People? My heart shattered all over again. Grandma. Only hours ago she'd smiled through her pain, believing she'd finally found someone to love me after she was gone. Every "I love you." None of it real. I searched his face one last time, praying for even a trace of the man I'd married. There was nothing left. The kindness I used to see had been replaced by cold calculation, like that man had never existed at all. "Never," I whispered. His expression hardened. "What?" "I said never!" My voice cracked as I shoved him with every bit of strength I had. "I'd rather die than let you touch me!" He staggered back half a step before his face twisted with anger. "You don't get to walk away from me!" He lunged forward so suddenly that I barely had time to react. His hands slammed against my shoulders, throwing me backward onto the bed. My breath caught as the mattress bounced beneath me, panic crashing through my body. "No!" I screamed, scrambling away from him. He grabbed for my wrist. "Claire, stop fighting me!" Pure instinct took over. I drove my knee upward as hard as I could. "Agh!" Eric's eyes widened as he doubled over, both hands clutching himself. His face turned an ugly shade of red as a strangled groan escaped him. "You... crazy..." I didn't stay to hear the rest. I grabbed the skirt of my wedding gown and ran, out of the suite and down the corridor barefoot, tears blurring everything. My veil caught on the door handle and tore away. Guests turned to stare as I raced past, but I didn't care. I didn't stop until the hotel's revolving doors spat me out into the cold night air. My hands shook so badly I could barely unlock my phone. Olivia answered on the second ring. "Claire? Aren't you supposed to be—" I broke down before she could finish. Between sobs I told her everything. The fake marriage. The phone call. The certificate. The cameras. "Oh my God." Her voice filled with horror. "Claire." "Can I stay with you?" I begged. "Please. I don't have anywhere else to go." The silence that followed told me everything. "I'm so sorry," she said quietly. "I'm out of town. I won't be back until tomorrow." The last of my hope slipped through my fingers. "It's okay," I lied. "I'll figure something out." After the call ended, I stood alone on the sidewalk. There was nowhere to go. I couldn't go back. I couldn't go to the hospital either. Grandma was still recovering, and the happiness on her face as she watched me walk down the aisle kept replaying in my mind. If she found out the truth tonight, it would destroy her. A raindrop landed on my cheek. Then another. Within seconds rain poured down, soaking my dress until it clung to my skin. Mascara ran with my tears as I wandered down the street, numb, while cars splashed past and strangers slowed to stare at the drenched bride walking alone at night. I don't know how long I walked before a golden sign caught my eye. Forget All Your Worries. Vida Valida. A humorless laugh escaped me. Forget my worries. That sounded impossible. Still, it was better than standing in the rain. I pushed the door open. Warm air, loud music, the smell of expensive liquor. I walked straight to the bar without a word. "Whiskey." The bartender slid a glass toward me. I emptied it in one swallow. "Another." I kept ordering. The burn in my throat was nothing next to the ache in my chest. My phone buzzed on the counter. Eric Calling. I stared at his name, remembering how excited I'd been to save it with a little heart beside it. Then I deleted the contact and blocked his number. I'd spent years protecting my virginity, believing it should belong to the man I loved, the man who would become my husband. I'd waited, certain that love, trust, and marriage were worth it. But there had never been a husband. Everything I'd believed in had fallen apart in one night. Eric had wanted to steal what I'd protected for years and sell it to strangers. A hollow laugh escaped me. If my first time wasn't going to happen the way I'd dreamed, then at least it would happen on my terms. Not his. By the time I pushed off the bar stool, the room was spinning. I barely made it two steps before I stumbled into a solid chest. Strong hands caught my waist before I could fall. I couldn't make out his face through the blur. Just the outline of a tall man in a perfectly tailored black suit. I stared up at him, my heart aching with a pain I wasn't sure I could survive. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe the grief. Maybe I just wanted to bury the naive woman who'd walked down the aisle hours earlier, believing she was loved. My fingers tightened around his jacket as I leaned in close enough for my lips to brush his ear. "Let's have sex.”