Frown

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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Growing up as an only child was not easy. Expectations were high. I have no one to depend on but myself whenever my parents were out of town for their respective jobs. I grew independent not because I had to but because I wanted to prove to myself that I can always survive whatever circumstances life throws my way.

Being Saphira Zobel Castello will always be a challenge. Not only do I have to live up to the fame of being the only heiress of a shipping magnate but also because of the influence of having a mother who is a senator.

"Saphira! Please come down here at my office this instant."

I heard my mom's voice in my room's intercom. Yes, since our house is huge, three-storey high with 10 bedrooms, the use of intercom is essential.

"Coming Mom!"

Both of my parents have their own office at the first floor where they stay most of the time whenever they are at home.

"Mom, you called?"

"What is this?"

I looked at the piece of paper she was holding and I knew that I am in deep trouble.

"An invitation to my graduation?"

"I am very disappointed in you Saphira. How can you let this happen? Weren't you studying all the time? Do we need to hire a tutor for you?"

"Mother, I am doing well in school."

"Doing well? Is this what you call doing well?"

"Mom, please calm down."