The Billionaire's Temporary Bride

The Billionaire's Temporary Bride

Jackson Will

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When self-made billionaire Sebastian Grey needs a wife to secure a critical business merger, he offers struggling artist Charlotte Reed an irresistible deal: one year of marriage in exchange for financial freedom. With her family drowning in debt, Charlotte reluctantly agrees, vowing to keep her heart out of the equation. But as their worlds collide, fake kisses turn into stolen moments, and icy business meetings melt into warm confessions. Bound by a contract but tethered by something deeper, can Sebastian and Charlotte find love in a relationship built on lies? Or will the walls around their hearts prove impossible to tear down?

Chapter 1 1

The rain pelted against the glass walls of the art gallery, each drop a stark reminder of Charlotte Reed's crumbling world. She clutched her portfolio tighter, hoping no one would notice the trembling in her hands. Tonight was supposed to be her breakthrough, the night her art would finally attract the kind of buyers who could lift her from obscurity. Yet, with every passing hour, the dream seemed further away.

Wealthy patrons in tailored suits and glittering gowns meandered through the gallery, their attention fixed on artists more established, more famous, more bankable. Charlotte stood near her display, an uneasy smile plastered on her face, trying to mask the sting of rejection. Her paintings-bold strokes of vibrant blues and oranges that spoke of longing and resilience-barely earned a glance.

"Miss Reed, I'm sorry to interrupt," came a clipped voice behind her. It was Mrs. Dalton, the gallery owner, her face pulled into a tight expression. "But I overheard a potential buyer asking about your work. Perhaps you could-"

"Of course," Charlotte interrupted, her heart leaping. This was her chance. Following Mrs. Dalton across the gallery, she smoothed her dress and practiced her best professional smile.

When she reached the corner where the buyer supposedly stood, she found no one. Charlotte's hope deflated. "Where are they?"

Mrs. Dalton hesitated. "Ah, it seems they've moved on. Perhaps next time."

Charlotte nodded, unwilling to show her disappointment. Next time. That phrase had haunted her for years. Next time, her art would sell. Next time, her bills wouldn't pile up. Next time, her sister wouldn't need to take on extra shifts to help pay for medication.

Across the gallery, she noticed a tall man in a dark suit watching her. He stood out from the rest-not because of his height or the sharpness of his tailored attire, but because of his stillness. While others flitted from one piece to the next, his gaze lingered, unflinching and almost predatory.

Charlotte quickly looked away, unnerved. She didn't have the energy to deal with another critic or, worse, a patron who would offer "advice" instead of buying her work.

Her phone buzzed in her clutch. Pulling it out, she saw her sister's name flashing on the screen. "Abby?"

"Hey, Charlie," Abby's voice crackled on the other end. "Just checking in. How's the big night going?"

Charlotte forced a lightness into her tone. "Oh, you know, schmoozing, dazzling everyone with my charm. Same old."

"Liar," Abby teased, though her voice carried the weariness of someone who had been fighting her own battles for too long. "Listen, I hate to bring this up, but the landlord called again. He's threatening to change the locks if we don't pay by Friday."

"I'll take care of it," Charlotte said quickly.

"With what? You can't keep putting yourself last, Charlie. You've already sold-"

"I said I'll handle it," she snapped, regretting her tone immediately. "Sorry. I'll figure something out, okay? Don't worry."

Abby hesitated before answering. "Okay. Just... don't do anything crazy."

Ending the call, Charlotte felt the weight of the world pressing down on her. Crazy? That was her life now. Every day, she had to make choices that bordered on desperate just to keep her family afloat.

Returning to her display, she found herself face-to-face with the man in the dark suit. He was even more imposing up close. His sharp jawline and piercing gray eyes exuded an air of control that made her uneasy.

"Miss Reed," he said smoothly, his voice rich and deliberate. "Your work is... intriguing."

"Thank you," she replied cautiously, unsure if it was a compliment or a veiled critique.

"I'm curious. What inspires such bold choices?"

His question caught her off guard. Most people asked about techniques or influences, but he seemed genuinely interested. "Life, I guess," she said after a moment. "The struggle, the hope, the contradictions. It's messy, but that's what makes it beautiful."

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Messy, indeed. Tell me, Miss Reed, have you considered that sometimes beauty lies in order, in control?"

"Control has its place," she admitted, "but it's in the chaos where you find truth."

He regarded her for a moment longer, as if weighing her words. Then, without warning, he turned and walked away. Charlotte watched him go, puzzled and slightly irritated. Who was he to swoop in with cryptic observations and leave without so much as a goodbye?

Before she could dwell on it further, Mrs. Dalton approached her again, her expression unusually grave. "Charlotte, a word?"

In the office at the back of the gallery, Mrs. Dalton handed her an envelope. "This is your share from tonight's sales."

Charlotte's stomach sank. She opened the envelope to find a check far smaller than she'd hoped. It wasn't enough-not for the rent, not for Abby's medication, not for anything.

"I'm sorry, dear," Mrs. Dalton said, her tone not unkind. "Your work is brilliant, but buyers are... hesitant. They want established names."

"I understand," Charlotte murmured, though bitterness coiled in her chest.

As she left the gallery, the rain still fell in relentless sheets. Pulling her coat tight, she hurried toward the subway, her mind racing with half-formed plans. Maybe she could take on a second job. Maybe she could pawn the last piece of jewelry her mother had left behind.

"Miss Reed," came a familiar voice, stopping her in her tracks.

Turning, she found herself face-to-face with the man from the gallery. He stood beneath a black umbrella, the storm framing him like a scene from a noir film.

"I believe we can help each other," he said.

Her instinct told her to run, but desperation rooted her in place. "Who are you?"

"Sebastian Grey," he replied, extending a hand. "I have a proposition for you."

Charlotte hesitated before shaking his hand. It was warm, firm, and unsettlingly confident. "What kind of proposition?"

"Let's not discuss it in the rain. My car is just over there." He gestured toward a sleek black town car idling by the curb.

"I don't even know you," she said, her voice wary.

"True," he admitted, his smile disarming. "But I believe that will change very soon."

Against her better judgment, Charlotte followed him to the car, curiosity and desperation battling in her mind. Once inside, she was greeted by the scent of leather and a driver who sat silently, his eyes fixed on the road.

Sebastian sat across from her, his posture relaxed but his gaze intense. "Miss Reed, I've been watching you."

The words sent a shiver down her spine. "Excuse me?"

"Your work," he clarified. "Your resilience. You're... exactly what I need."

"And what is it that you need?" she asked, her voice sharper than she intended.

"A wife," he said simply.

The air in the car seemed to freeze. Charlotte blinked, sure she'd misheard him. "A wife?"

"Yes. Temporarily, of course."

"This is insane."

"Not at all," he replied smoothly. "I have a business merger pending that requires me to appear settled, family-oriented. You need financial stability. I'm offering you a solution to your problems-no strings attached, beyond the terms of the contract."

Charlotte stared at him, her mind reeling. It was absurd, unethical, and completely out of the realm of anything she'd ever considered.

"I'm not the kind of woman who agrees to something like this," she said, her voice trembling.

"I'm not asking you to change who you are, Miss Reed. I'm asking you to play a role. For one year, you'll have everything you need-financial freedom, security for your family. And at the end, you walk away, no harm done."

His words were calm, calculated, but Charlotte couldn't ignore the gravity of the offer. It was a lifeline, albeit one tied to a man she barely knew.

She shook her head, laughing bitterly. "This is crazy."

"Sometimes," he said, leaning closer, "crazy is the only way forward."

Charlotte met his gaze, her resolve wavering. In his eyes, she saw something unexpected-a flicker of understanding, perhaps even kindness.

"Think about it," he said, handing her a card with his number. "But don't take too long. Opportunities like this don't wait forever."

The car pulled away, Charlotte stood alone in the rain, Sebastian's offer echoing in her mind. It was madness. But with the weight of her sister's needs and her own crumbling life pressing down on her, madness might be her only option.

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