My Fake Husband Is A Zillionaire

Addie went to her fiancé’s corporate office to surprise him, only to push open the door and find a blonde stranger straddling him on his desk.

After three years of devotion, Jennings didn't even look guilty. Instead, he scoffed with casual cruelty. "Her pathetic little company depends entirely on my funding. Without me, she'd be bankrupt in a month. After the wedding, she won't have a choice but to spread her legs."

Disgusted, Addie ripped her engagement ring from her neck and hurled it at his face.

But Jennings was confident she’d come crawling back. He instantly froze her startup's funding, and her own father threatened to disown her if she didn't apologize to the cheating heir just to save their families' corporate merger.

Cornered and humiliated, Addie refused to bow. Stepping out of the building, she bumped into a dusty, rugged construction worker. To permanently sever ties and spite her arrogant ex, she grabbed the stranger's arm.

"I would rather marry him than spend one more minute with you!" she declared, dragging the penniless worker straight to City Hall.

She thought she was just using a quiet stranger for a paper marriage. Feeling guilty, she even gave him her spare key and a bank card so he wouldn't go hungry while she scrambled to save her dying company.

But days later, an impossible $50 million investment dropped into her failing account. And when a predatory client tried to assault her during a business trip, the conference room door was kicked off its hinges by terrifying men in bespoke suits who brutally shattered the attacker's bones.

Addie stared at the scene, her mind reeling. Her quiet, sweet "construction worker" husband—the man currently spending her pocket money—wasn't just a random guy off the street. She had accidentally married Hurley Slate, the untouchable shadow ruler of Chicago's financial underworld. And he was absolutely obsessed with his new wife.

——

"I can't believe we're finally going to get married..."

Addie was on her way to Jennings' office, wanting to share this good news with him as soon as possible.

Her heart pounded violently against her ribs, while her fingers kept touching the necklace resting against her collarbone—a thin silver chain threaded through the band of a ring. The inside of the ring was engraved with their names. It was an engagement gift from her fiancé, Jennings. He had promised that on their wedding day, he would take the chain off and slide the ring onto her finger himself.

“Surpri…”

The word died on her tongue.

On the floor just inside the doorway lay a pair of red stilettos, discarded carelessly on the carpet. Further in, a scrap of pink lace. And crumpled on the floor beside the desk—the dark navy boxers she had bought for Jennings.

From the private bathroom inside his office, the door slightly ajar, came a thick, unmistakable rhythm of wet, heavy breathing. The sound of fabric scraping against skin. And then—a sharp, breathless gasp.

Addie froze.

The blood drained from her face so quickly that the room tilted. Her fingers clamped around the ring on her chest, knuckles going bone-white.

She moved without thinking, her heels sinking into the plush carpet, muffling her steps. She pushed the bathroom door open with one trembling hand.

The first thing she saw was a woman. Blonde. Young. Beautiful in a way that felt like a slap. Someone Addie had never seen before.

The woman straddled Jennings, her fingers trailing down his bare chest. She didn't even notice Addie standing in the doorway.

"Aren't you afraid your fiancée might find out?" the woman purred.

"Addie?" Jennings let out a short, dismissive laugh. "What does it matter if she finds out? Her pathetic little company depends entirely on Hayes Corp's funding. Without me, she'd be bankrupt within a month."

Addie watched, frozen, as Jennings reached up and brushed the woman's hair from her face.

"Besides," he continued, his voice dripping with casual cruelty, "if she had any sense, she'd take the hint and spread her legs for me like you do. But she's too busy playing the untouchable ice queen."

The woman giggled. "Maybe she doesn't know what she's missing."

"Oh, she'll learn." Jennings's hands tightened on the woman's hips. "After the wedding, she won't have a choice."

The shock lasted ten seconds. Exactly ten seconds.

And then a cold, blazing fury surged through Addie's veins, burning away everything else.

She shoved the door open and strode forward. Before Jennings could react, she swung her hand and slapped him hard across the face.

"Don't you think you owe me an explanation?" Her voice shook, but her eyes were steel. "Who the hell is this woman?"

The blonde screamed and scrambled for the sheet. Jennings, however, didn't flinch. He rubbed his jaw, then slowly—infuriatingly slowly—reached for his pants and pulled them on.

"Addie." His voice was infuriatingly calm. "What do you want me to say? This is your fault."

"My fault?"

"You're the one who insisted on waiting until the wedding. I'm a normal man. I have needs." He gestured vaguely toward the bed. "This is just a transaction. Money exchanged for physical release. It means nothing. My heart still belongs to you." He spread his hands, as if that explained everything. "Honestly, it's a perfectly fair arrangement. For both of us."

A wave of nausea hit her so hard she tasted bile.

She had given this man three years of her life. Three years. She had defended him when friends said he was too slick, too ambitious, too good to be true. She had believed—stupidly, hopelessly—that he loved her.

"So you feel no guilt at all," she said, her voice dangerously quiet.

Jennings's smile only widened. "Guilt? The person who should feel guilty is you."

"That pathetic little company of yours would have collapsed years ago without my support. And yet you've been parading around like some virtuous saint, refusing to let me touch you. Did you honestly believe your precious virginity was worth tens of millions of dollars?"

He leaned back against the bathroom counter, utterly at ease, not even bothering to hide his contempt. Because he knew—he had always known—that she had no choice. If Addie wanted to save her family's company, she had to marry him.

"Addie, don't make this harder than it needs to be," he said, his tone almost gentle. "The wedding is in two weeks. You're going to marry me regardless. Why embarrass yourself like this?"

Addie's entire body trembled with rage.

She grabbed the glass of water from the bathroom counter and hurled it directly into his face.

"Go to hell!" she spat, sickened by the sight of him.

Her hand flew to her neck. She seized the thin silver chain—the ring still threaded through it—and yanked. The clasp gave way with a sharp snap. She stared at the ring resting in her palm, the diamond glinting under the bathroom lights. Three years she had worn this against her heart. Three years she had believed in what it stood for.

She hurled it at him. The ring bounced off his bare chest and clattered to the tile floor, spinning to a stop at his feet.

"I would rather marry a construction worker off the street than spend one more second with a bastard like you!"

She turned on her heel and stormed out, slamming the door so hard the walls shook.

The moment she stepped out of the Hayes Corp building, a blast of icy wind hit her face, sharp and biting. Only then did she realize her cheeks were wet with tears.

Outside, a construction crew was working on a section of the sidewalk. Blinded by tears and fury, Addie didn't see the uneven pavement. Her heel caught on a crack. Her ankle twisted. She pitched forward, bracing for the brutal impact of concrete.

It never came.

"Careful."

A low voice sounded above her. She clutched the stranger's arm instinctively and looked up.

He was young, wearing a dusty work uniform and a yellow hard hat. His clothes were plain and worn, but beneath the grime, his features were unexpectedly striking—sharp and well-defined, dark eyes, a strong jaw. Even in heavy work boots, he was tall, towering over her.

"Thank you," she managed, still gripping his arm.

She was about to stand when that unbearable voice rang out behind her.

"Addie! Already throwing yourself at someone new?"

Jennings stood in the doorway of the building, water still dripping from his hair, his face twisted into an ugly sneer.

"Well, well. You really are a woman of your word. You found yourself a construction worker!"

The rage Addie had barely contained surged back with a vengeance.

She wiped her tears and straightened up. But instead of letting go of the man's arm, she pulled herself closer, wrapping her arm around his in an intimate, possessive grip.

"Jennings," she said, her voice dripping with contempt. "Did you actually believe you were the only man in the world? That I'd fall apart without you?"

"You think far too highly of yourself. In my eyes, you are absolutely nothing."

And then, without hesitation, Addie pressed a kiss to the construction worker's cheek.

"You see this?" she announced, loud enough for the entire street to hear. "I would rather marry him—a complete stranger—than spend one more minute with a disgusting, cheating bastard like you!"

She laced her fingers through the stranger's, her grip fierce and unyielding.

"Come on, darling," she declared, turning her back on Jennings. "We're going to City Hall. Right now."