Marrying My Runaway Groom's Powerful Father

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

Download the Book on the App

Royal City Hotel.

The most luxurious high-end private club in A city.

Alice Oliver was very dizzy after drinking. She stood at the end off the corridor on the 22nd floor and looked at the room number in front of her. She laughed.

2218.

Exactly.

This was the exact room number she bore in mind.

Pushing open the unlocked door, she stumbled into the room.

There was no light in the room, and it was dark. Alice scanned the room, and her eyes finally fell in the direction near the window, where there was a flickering light.

It was the man who was smoking.

Alice managed to stabilize her shaking body and she grinned, "I... I'm here."

She got a burp of wine the moment she spoke, and it came from her throat out of her control.

She quickly covered her mouth, pinched her little finger and stroked, "I only... had a little wine, hah."

Alice couldn't see the man's face clearly, but she obviously felt that his cold and gloomy air was coming right to her. She took a step back unconsciously, and suddenly sobered up a little.

But after that, the effects of drink came back to her. She didn't keep her balance and fell hard against the wall. Her back was hurt, so she couldn't help making a "hiss" sound.

The man stared at the little girl who had intruded into the room. She stood in the yellow light at the door. The black swallow-tail dress was swaying behind her, showing her beautiful legs, absolutely charming. The heavy make-up on her face was like the gorgeous coat wrapping a snow-white rose, giving people a desire to peel it off and explore the unexpected.

The man suppressed his instinctive curiosity and asked calmly.

"How did you get in?" The 22nd floor of the hotel was not a place for a drunken mad woman to walk around.

The man's voice was very magnetic, and seemed to be able to absorb the souls of people. Alice had to admit that he had a nice voice.

"The waiter has a good taste. When he saw this necklace, he thought that I was a VIP guest who could come in and out of the 22nd floor." Alice pointed to the necklace on her neck. The diamond ring on the necklace was of great value.

Just then, the man's cell phone rang.

It was a short message.

The man picked up his phone at once, and the light of the screen shone on his face. He lowered his head, and Alice could only see his manly outline strongly defined under the bright light.

Although she couldn't see clearly, she still could tell that this man had a gorgeous face.

She didn't expect that she would be dealing with a handsome young man.

A man who had the dirty idea to deal with bodies was definitely a scum of bad character and behavior.

Alice jumped to a conclusion in her heart.

The man was staring at the screen of his cell phone, and the message on it read --Carlos, I am sorry.

Sender, Jane Smith.

The man's hand shook slightly. The next moment, he blacklisted the person who sent the text message decisively.

When Alice saw the man hadn't said anything after a long while, she supported her drowsy head and asked in a very low voice, "We... Can we start now?"

The man sneered, "I'm not interested in a woman with an overpowering smell of alcohol."

Alice became nervous. She was just drinking to boost her courage. It took her forever to organize her words and then she said, "Please wait a minute. I'll wash it off."

Read Now