The CEOs Secret Lovechild

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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Theodore

"Isa wait. Let's talk about this baby, you can't say something like that and just leave," I plead with my wife softly, trying to get her to rethink her decision. Isabel has always been much too stubborn for her own good.

"No! There's nothing to talk about Theodore and you know it," she says calmly while staring at me, daring me to fight her on this.

Usually, at this point I back off and let her have her way but not this time. This time I have to be more stubborn than she could ever be.

"You're not leaving Isabel, I won't let you. How could you even think about leaving us? Are you even thinking about me? Our family? Our children?!" I ask with quiet anger.

She laughs loudly and that makes my blood boil. She knows that Ethan and Emile are in the next room but she makes no effort to avoid disturbing their sleep. Another instance of Isabel being too selfish to be a good mother.

"Am I even thinking about us?" she asks incredulously after her deep laughter. "We both know there is no 'us' Theodore. The farce has gone on for as long as it can and I can finally call quits."

"Isa-"

She puts her hand up to cut me off while pacing up and down the large master's bedroom. I look out the door, concerned that her loud voice is causing a disturbance to our twins.

"And our families? They have gotten what they wanted after forcing us into this loveless marriage. Why keep on going with it when they have moved on?!"

Her sea blue eyes stare at me defiantly.

I want to oppose her, but even I can't deny it. The business between the Renaults and Thompsons that made both families decide to have their heirs marry each other has long since been concluded, leaving Isabel and I to live out the consequences.

I would never have agreed to the arrangement if Isabel wanted no part of it so we both agreed to resign ourselves to a loveless marriage. We have been comfortable going about our lives living under one roof for the past three years. At least, that's what I thought.

"This-this is not what we agreed to Isa," I say quietly as I think of her request for a divorce.

Even though we never fell in love, we developed a unique friendship surrounding our situation and her decision to leave feels like a betrayal.

Her eyes soften as she holds my gaze. "Theodore, I'm sorry for going against our initial agreement. You're a wonderful friend...but I want more. I want my freedom."

I stare into her eyes and I see just how serious she is. If I let her leave, she won't come back. This isn't one of her usual hasty decisions.

"You want your freedom? If I let you leave what do I get from that?" I ask quietly as I walk out of the French windows while massaging my head. I can already feel the headache coming.

Isabel's heels announce her joining me on the balcony.

"Do you remember your life before we got married?" She asks behind me. "Don't tell me you've forgotten that carefree young boy who was in love. You can go back to that time, Theodore. You can leave everything, the kids, the businesses, our families. You don't have to pretend anymore."

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