MY BILLIONAIRE HUSBAND ISMY WORST ENEMY

The Invitation

Adrian Black's office looked different the second time.

Lena noticed things she'd missed before: the bookshelf filled with first editions, the framed photographs on the wall (none of which showed Richard Black, she noted), the small details that suggested a man who valued control above all else.

Adrian was waiting for her, standing by the window with his back to the door.

"I didn't expect to hear from you so quickly," he said without turning around.

"I'm full of surprises."

He turned, and for a moment, his expression was unguarded. Then the mask slid back into place. "I take it you've reconsidered my offer."

"I have."

"And?"

Lena walked to the desk and placed the photograph on its surface. "This was in my mailbox this morning."

Adrian looked at the photograph. For a fraction of a second, something flickered in his eyes—recognition, or perhaps concern.

"Who sent this to me?" Lena asked.

"I don't know."

"I think you do."

Adrian met her gaze. "I don't."

Lena studied him, trying to read the truth behind his carefully controlled expression. She couldn't.

"Your father and my father were friends," she said. "Business partners, by the look of it."

"Once," Adrian admitted. "A long time ago."

"What happened?"

"Their partnership ended. Badly."

"Why?"

Adrian was quiet for a moment. Then: "That's part of what I'm offering to help you discover."

Lena shook her head. "I don't believe you. You know more than you're telling me."

"Perhaps I do." His voice was calm, unruffled. "But that doesn't change the facts. You need money. I need a wife. We can help each other."

"Or you can tell me what you know about my father, and I can walk away."

"That's not how this works."

"Then maybe there's no deal."

She turned to leave.

"Wait."

Lena stopped, her hand on the door.

"I know who killed your father," Adrian said quietly.

She spun around. "What?"

"I know who drove him to his death. And I can help you prove it."

The words hung in the air between them, heavy with implication.

Lena's heart was pounding. "Who?"

Adrian's expression didn't change. "Marry me. And I'll tell you everything."

"Why do you need a wife so badly?" she demanded. "What are you really after?"

He was silent for a long moment. Then: "There are things I need to investigate. Things that require access to certain circles. A wife provides cover."

"What kind of things?"

"The kind that get people killed."

Lena stared at him. He was serious. Deadly serious.

"You're asking me to put my life at risk."

"I'm asking you to trust me."

"I barely know you."

"I know." For the first time, something like vulnerability crossed his face. "But I'm asking anyway."

Lena thought about her father. About the photograph. About her aunt's warning.

Stay away from the Black family.

But she couldn't. Not when the truth was finally within reach.

"I'll meet you to discuss terms," she said finally. "But I have conditions of my own."

Adrian's lips curved into the faintest hint of a smile. "I'd expect nothing less."

---

They met at a law office three days later.

Marcus Reed was Adrian's best friend and personal lawyer, a lean man with sharp eyes and a dry sense of humor. He greeted Lena with professional courtesy, but she could sense his curiosity.

"So you're the woman who's going to marry Adrian Black," he said, settling behind his desk. "Congratulations. Or condolences, depending on your perspective."

"Marcus." Adrian's voice was warning.

"What? I'm being honest. She should know what she's getting into."

Lena looked between them. "Is this how you always negotiate?"

"Only when Adrian asks me to handle his personal affairs." Marcus pulled out a thick document. "This is the standard contract. I've made some modifications based on Adrian's requirements."

Lena took the document and began reading. The terms were straightforward: twelve-month marriage, financial compensation, public appearances, separate bedrooms.

But there were clauses that made her pause.

"Neither party shall develop romantic feelings for the other."

"If feelings develop, the contract must be terminated immediately."

"Neither party may reveal the existence of this contract to any third party."

She looked up. "No falling in love?"

"Standard clause," Marcus said, his expression carefully neutral. "Adrian insisted."

Lena glanced at Adrian, who was watching her with an unreadable expression. "Fine. But I have my own conditions."

"I'm listening."

"I want information about my father. Delivered in installments. I want to know what you know, when you know it."

Adrian nodded. "Agreed."

"I want my business to remain independent. No interference from you or Blackstone."

"Agreed."

"I want my own space within the penthouse. A room I can retreat to."

"Agreed."

Lena hesitated, then: "No physical intimacy without my consent."

Adrian's expression didn't flicker. "Agreed."

"And I want a divorce at the end of twelve months. Clean, final, no contest."

"Agreed."

She looked at Marcus. "Is this document legally binding?"

"Once both parties sign, yes."

Lena took a deep breath. She'd never imagined herself getting married for any reason other than love. And now she was about to sign a contract that explicitly forbade it.

For Dad, she told herself. For the truth.

She picked up the pen and signed her name.

Adrian signed next. His signature was precise, controlled—just like everything else about him.

Marcus gathered the documents and made copies. When he handed Lena her copy, he held her gaze for a moment.

"For what it's worth," he said quietly, "I think you're making a mistake. Not the marriage—the investigation. Adrian's family isn't like yours. They don't play by the rules."

"I know," Lena said. "That's why I need to do this."

Marcus nodded slowly. "Then be careful. Both of you."

---

That night, Lena returned to her apartment and told Ava.

"Married?" Ava's voice was a mix of shock and disbelief. "Lena, what are you talking about?"

"I met someone. We're getting married."

"Met someone? You've been on exactly zero dates in the last two years. Now you're getting married?"

Lena forced a smile. "It happened fast. But it's real."

Ava studied her face, searching for the lie. "Do you love him?"

The question hit harder than Lena expected. "It's... complicated."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the best I have right now."

Ava was quiet for a long moment. Then: "I don't believe you. But I trust you. If you say this is the right thing, then I'll support you."

Lena pulled her sister into a hug. "Thank you. That means everything."

"But Lena?" Ava pulled back, her eyes serious. "If he hurts you, I'll kill him."

Lena laughed despite herself. "I'll keep that in mind."

---

The announcement went public the next morning.

The media exploded.

"BILLIONAIRE ADRIAN BLACK TO MARRY STRUGGLING BUSINESSWOMAN LENA CARTER"

"ICE KING MELTS? ADRIAN BLACK FOUND LOVE"

"FROM SCANDAL TO SUCCESS: LENA CARTER'S RISE"

Lena watched the headlines scroll across her phone screen, feeling sick. The story was everywhere—every news channel, every gossip site, every social media feed.

Her phone buzzed with hundreds of notifications. Most were from strangers. Some were from reporters. A few were from friends and colleagues, expressing shock and congratulations.

But one message stood out.

Unknown number: "You're making a mistake. The Black family destroys everything it touches."

Lena stared at the message for a long time.

Then she deleted it and began packing her bags.

She was moving into Adrian Black's penthouse tomorrow.

And there was no turning back.