The Heir bxb

I Slapped My Fiancé-Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis

Jessica C. Dolan

Being second best is practically in my DNA. My sister got the love, the attention, the spotlight. And now, even her damn fiancé. Technically, Rhys Granger was my fiancé now-billionaire, devastatingly hot, and a walking Wall Street wet dream. My parents shoved me into the engagement after Catherine disappeared, and honestly? I didn't mind. I'd crushed on Rhys for years. This was my chance, right? My turn to be the chosen one? Wrong. One night, he slapped me. Over a mug. A stupid, chipped, ugly mug my sister gave him years ago. That's when it hit me-he didn't love me. He didn't even see me. I was just a warm-bodied placeholder for the woman he actually wanted. And apparently, I wasn't even worth as much as a glorified coffee cup. So I slapped him right back, dumped his ass, and prepared for disaster-my parents losing their minds, Rhys throwing a billionaire tantrum, his terrifying family plotting my untimely demise. Obviously, I needed alcohol. A lot of alcohol. Enter him. Tall, dangerous, unfairly hot. The kind of man who makes you want to sin just by existing. I'd met him only once before, and that night, he just happened to be at the same bar as my drunk, self-pitying self. So I did the only logical thing: I dragged him into a hotel room and ripped off his clothes. It was reckless. It was stupid. It was completely ill-advised. But it was also: Best. Sex. Of. My. Life. And, as it turned out, the best decision I'd ever made. Because my one-night stand isn't just some random guy. He's richer than Rhys, more powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be playing with. And now, he's not letting me go.

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Wren stepped out of the taxi, adjusting his bag over his shoulder. He handed the driver his fare just as his button phone rang loudly. He pulled it out and answered.

"Zack, I know why you're calling. I just arrived. Please be careful not to get caught making a call."

"I know. I just wanted to check on you."

"I appreciate it, but I don't want you getting punished for having a phone, which isn't allowed."

"Fine. Take care, and don't forget to call or message me once you settle in."

"I will. Bye." He hung up and looked up at the grand mansion before him. The towering gates, the well-manicured garden, and the stationed guards made it feel like a dream come true-except he wasn't sure whether it was a dream or a nightmare.

As he approached the entrance, the door swung open before he could knock. A uniformed guard stood in the doorway.

"Good afternoon, sir," Wren greeted politely. "Welcome, young master. We were informed that you'd be arriving this morning. Did something happen on the way?"

"Nothing worth worrying about," Wren replied.

"Please, come in." Stepping inside, Wren glanced around. A row of luxury cars was parked on one side, and a flower garden stretched along the pathway. Above the large doorway, a stone molding spelled out "THE BOOKS." As he lifted his foot to step inside, a sharp, hostile voice stopped him.

"Hey, Butler More, what the hell is going on? Can any Tom, Dick, and Harry just walk into the Books' mansion?" A boy around Wren's age stood in the doorway, his posture reeking of entitlement. A gold watch gleamed on his wrist, and his smirk screamed "I'm better than you." The butler, an older man in his forties, began to introduce Wren.

"Young Master Mark, this is-"

"Butler More, I don't care who he is, but-"

"It's rude to interrupt when elders are speaking," Wren cut in sharply. Mark's smirk vanished, replaced by a glare.

"Get the hell out of here, you poor thing."

"Mark, stop. Let him introduce himself," another voice interjected. A boy with a bright smile and sparkling eyes stood beside another, who had a calmer, more reserved demeanor.

"Cam is right," the quiet one agreed. Mark scoffed.

"Oh, please. You two are just adopted sons. You have no right to speak when I'm talking." He turned back to Wren, pointing rudely.

"And you-I just told you to get out." Wren crossed his arms. "Who are you?" Mark blinked in confusion. "What?"

"I asked, who are you?" Wren repeated.

"Well, I'm Mark Book, son of-" "So, you're the Mark," Wren interrupted, his gaze sharp. Mark frowned.

"What do you mean?" "We were swapped at birth. It was recently discovered. So, technically, all of you are just adopted-including you, Mark. So, tell me again, who are you to talk down to me?" Mark's face drained of color, his mouth opening and closing in stunned silence. "None of you should pretend you don't know who I am or that I was coming today," Wren added before turning to Cam and the other boy.

"Zoe, Cam-I'm Wren Smith. Sorry, I mean, Wren Book. Nice to meet you." He then turned to the butler.

"Please show me to my room." He walked past the others, leaving them speechless. Cam grinned.

"So cool. I love his vibe already." Zoe smirked.

"At least he finally shut someone up." Mark clenched his fists, his face burning with anger.

"AHH-" he screamed in frustration. Cam made a face. "I'm leaving before his craziness rubs off on me." Zoe followed him.

"Where are you going?"

"None of your business. You're not my dad."

"I just want to know."

"Screw you, I'm off." Zoe rolled his eyes.

"Spoiled brat." He turned and left.

*Wren's Room*

Wren sat on his bed, releasing a weary sigh as his head throbbed.

"I just arrived, and I already have a headache... How did it even come to this? It all started when-"

*Flashback: The Orphanage*

"Good afternoon, ma," Wren greeted.

"Sit down. We have something important to discuss." He took a seat.

"Okay, ma." She nodded toward the men.

"These gentlemen came a few days ago, claiming that you are from the Book family. I asked them for proof, and they've just provided it." Wren's eyes widened in stunned incredulity.

"How is that possible?"

"You were swapped at birth. Two months ago, the Books discovered that the child they raised wasn't their biological son. They started searching and eventually found you." Silence.

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