Seesaw taejin

Marrying My Runaway Groom's Powerful Father

Temple Madison

I was sitting in the Presidential Suite of The Pierre, wearing a Vera Wang gown worth more than most people earn in a decade. It was supposed to be the wedding of the century, the final move to merge two of Manhattan's most powerful empires. Then my phone buzzed. It was an Instagram Story from my fiancé, Jameson. He was at Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris with a caption that read: "Fuck the chains. Chasing freedom." He hadn't just gotten cold feet; he had abandoned me at the altar to run across the world. My father didn't come in to comfort me. He burst through the door roaring about a lost acquisition deal, telling me the Holland Group would strip our family for parts if the ceremony didn't happen by noon. My stepmother wailed about us becoming the laughingstock of the Upper East Side. The Holland PR director even suggested I fake a "panic attack" to make myself look weak and sympathetic to save their stock price. Then Jameson’s sleazy cousin, Pierce, walked in with a lopsided grin, offering to "step in" and marry me just to get his hands on my assets. I looked at them and realized I wasn't a daughter or a bride to anyone in that room. I was a failed asset, a bouncing check, a girl whose own father told her to go to Paris and "beg" the man who had just publicly humiliated her. The girl who wanted to be loved died in that mirror. I realized that if I was going to be sold to save a merger, I was going to sell myself to the one who actually controlled the money. I marched past my parents and walked straight into the VIP holding room. I looked the most powerful man in the room—Jameson’s cold, ruthless uncle, Fletcher Holland—dead in the eye and threw the iPad on the table. "Jameson is gone," I said, my voice as hard as stone. "Marry me instead."

Billionaires Revenge Kickass Heroine Revenge Female-centered Ex-wife

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On a late spring morning, the sunlight, soft and diffuse, gave way to the first strong rays of the day. Flowers were colouring the world for the warmer days to come, waving in the lazy breeze like a smile born of the cosmos—happiness in brilliant shades.

"Achoo --"

Essie Yi sneezed again. She was still in bed, draped in a heavy blanket. Just as she turned to her side she hit her face on something warm and was startled out of her sleep.

'How does the wall get here?'

Forcing her eyelids open, Essie sat bolt upright and whipped her head around in wide-eyed confusion.

After taking a moment to shed the sleep away from her eyes, she recognized the familiar floral curtains hanging at each side and the small oval table next to her bed.

It was her room. Yes!

Essie put her hand on her chest and breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps it was just a dream.

She closed her eyes and was just about to drift off again when a big hand reached out from behind and touched her back. The suddenness of the touch made her tremble like a dry leaf. As she turned her head around, there was the handsome face of a stranger sleeping next to her.

"Oh my God!" a panicked scream broke out from her lips, shaking the walls of the room.

'What is going on? Did this guy break into my apartment?'

The man lying next to her was startled out of his sleep by her screaming. He shot up from bed like a jack-in-the-box, momentarily shocked and disoriented. Then, suddenly, his expression froze, allowing an eerie chill to permeate the air.

Essie jumped into the corner of the bed and quickly wrapped herself up with the blanket. It was unnecessary, as it was obvious that the other party had seen her naked.

Suffice it to say, the man didn't seem very happy.

Essie grasped her aching forehead, desperately scrambling in her mind to make sense of everything, but her effort was all in vain.

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