Woke Up Married To A Secret Zillionaire

The fluorescent lights of the New York City Clerk's office hummed with a sound that felt like a drill pressing into Eva Rose's temple. She stood at the counter, her fingers gripping the cold laminate edge so hard her knuckles turned the color of bone.

The clerk on the other side of the glass popped a bubble of pink gum. It made a sharp snap that caused Eva to flinch. The woman slid a piece of paper across the counter.

It was a copy. A marriage license.

Eva looked down. Her vision blurred at the edges, tunneling until the only thing she could see were the typed letters in the spouse field.

Baxter Noel.

The air in the room seemed to vanish. Her lungs pulled at nothing.

This has to be a mistake, she said. Her voice sounded thin, like it was coming from someone else standing three feet away.

The clerk sighed and tapped a manicured fingernail on the document. There was a stamp near the bottom. It was from Clark County, Nevada. The date was three months ago.

Eva felt the blood drain from her face. She remembered the conference in Las Vegas. She remembered the presentation on hydrogen fuel stability that had gone perfectly. She remembered the hotel bar afterward, the celebration with a few colleagues, and then the drink that tasted too sweet.

After that, there was only darkness. A twelve-hour gap in her memory that she had chalked up to exhaustion and cheap alcohol.

She looked at the signature next to hers. It was sharp, aggressive, taking up more space than the line allowed. Baxter Noel. The man who owned half of the skyline she saw every morning. The man whose legal team was currently suing her for intellectual property theft-not because they thought she stole the code, but because they needed to freeze her assets to force her to unlock the encryption keys she had built into it.

She was married to the man who was trying to destroy her career.

Is this valid? Eva asked.

The clerk rolled her eyes. It is filed, honey. It is legal. Unless you want to pay the filing fee for a dissolution, move along.

Eva grabbed the paper. Her hands were shaking so badly she almost dropped it. She folded it once, then twice, shoving it deep into the inner pocket of her coat, right against her ribs. It felt hot, like a piece of radioactive material.

She walked out of the office and into the biting November wind. The cold hit her face, but it didn't numb the panic rising in her throat. She pulled out her phone. Her fingers fumbled over the screen as she dialed.

Ed picked up on the first ring.

I need you to run a name, Eva said. She didn't say hello. She didn't wait for him to ask how she was.

Who? Ed asked.

Baxter Noel.

There was a long silence on the other end. Then the sound of a chair scraping against a floor. Eva, Ed said, his voice dropping an octave. That is a Great White Shark. If you are hacking him, stop. If you are looking into his personal files, stop. He eats people like us for breakfast.

I am not hacking him, Eva said. She hailed a cab, her arm feeling heavy as lead. Just tell me where he was three months ago. Specifically the fourteenth.

She hung up before he could ask why.

The cab ride to the Mcclain estate on Long Island took an hour. Eva spent the entire time staring out the window, watching the city give way to manicured lawns and high iron gates.

When the cab stopped, the driveway was already full. Bentleys and Porsches lined the gravel path. The house was lit up like a beacon.

Eva paid the driver and stepped out. She had forgotten. Tonight was the engagement party. Isobel's party.

The front door was open to let guests in. A blast of warm air and jazz music spilled out. The butler, a man named Henderson who had looked at Eva with disdain since she was five years old, stepped into her path.

Service entrance, Miss Rose, he said.

Eva didn't stop. She didn't even slow down. She walked straight toward him, her eyes fixed on a point behind his head.

Henderson reached out to grab her arm. Eva turned her head and looked at him. It wasn't a glare. It was a look of absolute, terrifying emptiness.

Touch me, she said, and I will make sure you never work in this state again.

Henderson froze. His hand hovered in the air, then dropped. He stepped aside.

Eva walked into the foyer. The smell of expensive lilies was suffocating. Maids were rushing back and forth with trays of crystal glasses.

At the top of the grand staircase, a woman stood watching. Dianne Warren. She held a glass of red wine, her fingers curled elegantly around the stem.

Look what the cat dragged in, Dianne said. Her voice carried over the music.

Eva stopped at the bottom of the stairs. She felt the paper in her pocket burning against her skin.

I am just here for my things, Eva said.

Dianne laughed. It was a dry, brittle sound. You are here because you have nowhere else to go. That little lab of yours finally realize you are a fraud?

Eva didn't answer. She started up the stairs.

Dianne didn't move. She blocked the path. We are short-staffed, she said. Go to the kitchen. Put on an apron.

I am not a maid, Eva said.

You are whatever I say you are, Dianne hissed. She leaned in close. The smell of wine on her breath was overpowering. Or do you want your father to know you came back begging for money?

Isobel appeared from the hallway. She was wearing a dress that probably cost more than Eva's entire college tuition. It was silver and clung to her like a second skin.

Oh, Eva, Isobel said. She covered her mouth in mock surprise. You look... tired. And poor.

Eva looked at them. The mother who had tormented her for twenty years. The sister who had stolen everything from her credit to her childhood.

She felt the sharp corner of the marriage license pressing into her ribs.

She could end this right now. She could pull out that piece of paper and watch their faces crumble. Baxter Noel could buy this entire estate and turn it into a parking lot without blinking.

But not yet. Baxter didn't know yet. If she played this card prematurely, without understanding the game, he would crush her faster than her family ever could.

Eva smiled. It was a small, cold thing that didn't reach her eyes.

I will go to my room, she said.

Dianne frowned, unsettled by the lack of a fight. Just stay out of sight. We have important guests. We don't need you embarrassing us.

Eva brushed past them. As she walked down the hallway to the small room at the end, she whispered to herself.

I am holding a grenade, and I have no idea when the pin was pulled.