The Billionaire's Unexpected Contract Wife

Regina Daniels stood behind the counter of her family's bakery, her fingers dusted with flour, and her heart pounding to a rhythm of worry. The familiar scent of vanilla and cinnamon wafted through the air, masking the sour taste of dread in her mouth. The bakery, Sweet Haven, had been her mother's dream - and now, it was one invoice away from becoming a memory.

"Regina," came the voice of Mr. Kemp, their landlord, his bulky frame blocking the sunlight as he pushed open the door. "You've got until Friday."

She nodded, barely able to meet his gaze. "I understand."

He grunted and left as quickly as he'd entered. It wasn't personal - business never was. But it didn't stop her chest from tightening like a vice. They were three months behind on rent. Suppliers were threatening to cut them off. And the bank had already sent its final warning.

"I'll figure it out," she muttered to herself, wiping her hands on her apron.

But deep down, Regina wasn't so sure.

She hadn't told her younger sister, Ava, just how bad things were. After their parents passed away in a car accident two years ago, Regina had stepped up to keep the bakery alive, pouring every dollar she had into it. She worked fourteen-hour days, skipped meals, and ignored every personal need just to keep the ovens running.

But sometimes, love wasn't enough to save something.

And then fate walked through the door - wearing a thousand-dollar suit and sunglasses that probably cost more than her car.

He was tall, with broad shoulders and a presence that silenced the room. The air around him shifted as he approached the counter, people parting instinctively. His face was cut from sharp lines and pure indifference. But his eyes-behind the sleek sunglasses-were locked on her.

"Regina Daniels?" he asked, his voice deep, smooth, and unmistakably authoritative.

She blinked. "Yes. Can I help you?"

"I'm here on behalf of Frank Collier."

She stilled.

The name hit her like a wave of cold water. Frank Collier - billionaire CEO of Collier International. Ruthless dealmaker. Media darling. A man who built an empire with no apologies. And for some reason, he was sending a representative to her struggling bakery?

"Sorry," she said slowly, "but I think you've got the wrong Regina Daniels."

He pulled an envelope from his inside pocket and placed it gently on the counter. "I assure you, we don't."

Regina hesitated, then opened the envelope. Inside was a simple, elegant letter printed on thick paper. Her eyes scanned the words, her brow furrowing with every line.

Miss Daniels,

I require your presence for a private business proposition. One that will be mutually beneficial. I can offer compensation that will resolve your financial situation permanently.

Details are too sensitive for a public discussion. You'll find a car waiting outside. If you choose to join me, I promise you won't regret it.

- Frank Collier

She looked up, stunned. "Is this some kind of joke?"

The man - his name tag read Eliot - shook his head. "The offer is real. Mr. Collier does not joke."

"And he wants to meet me? Why?"

"He'll explain everything himself."

Regina's instincts screamed at her to say no. But her bank account... and the look in Ava's eyes when she asked if everything was going to be okay... said otherwise.

She took off her apron and tossed it aside.

"I'll go," she said, voice steady. "But I'm not agreeing to anything until I know what this is."

The car waiting outside was a black Bentley with tinted windows and plush leather seats. Eliot opened the door for her, and she slid in, still unsure if she was walking into a dream or a trap.

They drove through the city, past towering buildings and gleaming skyscrapers, until they pulled into a private driveway guarded by men in suits. The mansion that awaited her looked like it belonged in a movie - all glass, steel, and impossible elegance.

Inside, everything gleamed. Marble floors, minimalist décor, and silence - the kind only money could buy.

Frank Collier was standing by the window when she entered, his back to her, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He turned slowly, his gaze falling on her like a blade.

And for a moment, Regina forgot to breathe.

He was even more intimidating up close. Tall, broad-shouldered, with piercing gray eyes that held zero warmth. But what struck her most wasn't his power - it was his loneliness. He looked like a man who had everything, yet trusted no one.

"Miss Daniels," he said, motioning for her to sit. "Thank you for coming."

Regina remained standing. "You didn't give me much of a choice."

He gave a half-smile - the kind that didn't reach his eyes. "I find people rarely say no to money. Especially when they're about to lose everything."

Her spine stiffened. "Did you bring me here to insult me?"

"No." He set his glass down. "I brought you here to offer you a solution."

"To what?"

"To your financial ruin. I know about the bakery. About the overdue rent. The missed supplier payments. You need money, Miss Daniels. I have more than I know what to do with."

She crossed her arms. "What do you want in return?"

He walked toward her, each step deliberate. "I need a wife."

The silence that followed was deafening.

"A... what?" she asked, incredulous.

"A wife," he repeated. "For one year. Public appearances. Events. A signature on a marriage certificate. Nothing more."

"Why?"

He studied her. "My company is finalizing a merger. The board prefers a CEO with a stable personal life. Investors get jumpy when they think their golden boy is emotionally unavailable. A marriage - even a fake one - settles nerves."

Regina laughed bitterly. "You want me to pretend to be your wife for a year?"

"I'll pay you five million dollars."

Her breath caught.

"I'm sorry... what?"

"Five million," he said again, his voice calm. "Half up front. Half when the year ends."

Regina swayed slightly, her thoughts spiraling.

Five million. That would save the bakery. Pay for Ava's college. Give them a fresh start. She could open a second shop. Live without the constant pressure of scraping by.

But marry a stranger? For money?

"You'll live here," he continued. "We'll attend events together. Smile for cameras. No actual relationship expectations. No bedroom obligations."

Her eyes narrowed. "So I'm your prop."

"My partner," he corrected. "On paper only."

Regina paced, her mind reeling. "Why me?"

Frank leaned back against the desk, folding his arms. "Because you're ordinary."

She blinked. "Excuse me?"

"I don't mean it as an insult. You're not in the tabloids. You're not chasing fame or social climbing. You're grounded. Real. People will believe you married me for love."

She let out a shaky breath. "And what if I say no?"

"Then I find someone else," he said simply. "But I'll be honest - you're the first woman I've considered for this. And the only one I think can pull it off."

Regina turned away, staring at the glass wall that overlooked the city skyline. Her hands trembled. Her heart thundered. This was madness.

And yet... what did she really have to lose?

"Can I think about it?" she asked softly.

Frank's voice was calm. "Take forty-eight hours. But I suggest you don't take too long."

She turned back to face him. "Why?"

"Because life-changing offers don't stay on the table forever."

Two days later, Regina signed the contract.

And two weeks later, she became Mrs. Regina Collier.

Not for love. Not for fairy tales.

But for survival.

And in doing so, she stepped into a world of ruthless billionaires, brutal headlines, and a man who kept his heart under lock and key. She thought it would be simple. She had no idea how wrong she was.

---

Two days later, Regina signed the contract. And it felt nothing like she thought it would. The pen had barely lifted off the final signature line when Frank closed the folder, snapped it shut with a click that echoed louder than it should have in the quiet room, and slid it into his briefcase like they hadn't just made a deal that would tie them together for the next twelve months.

"Welcome to the Collier family, Regina," he said smoothly, rising to his feet.

She nodded stiffly, her fingers clenched in her lap. "So... what now? Is there a script I follow? A crash course in how to be your picture-perfect wife?"

He smirked, amused. "We'll ease you in. Eliot will help you with wardrobe, etiquette, and appearances. You'll move into the penthouse by the weekend. We'll have a quiet courthouse ceremony-press release will follow within twenty-four hours."

Her stomach flipped. "No wedding?"

Frank's jaw tensed, almost imperceptibly. "The fewer people involved, the cleaner it is. Unless you want the media circus."

"No," she muttered. "Clean is fine."

"Good." He adjusted his cufflinks. "I don't expect you to change who you are, Regina. I chose you because you're not afraid to speak your mind. Just don't embarrass me."

"Right," she said dryly. "I'll make sure to leave the apron and flour behind."

To her surprise, Frank's lips twitched - not quite a smile, but the closest she'd seen yet.

"Be ready Monday. We're hosting a dinner with my legal team. It'll be your first official appearance as Mrs. Collier."

She blinked. "You're throwing me to the wolves already?"

"It's the deep end, or nothing," he said, walking past her toward the elevator. "And you strike me as someone who knows how to swim."

He didn't wait for her response. The doors closed behind him with a soft ding, leaving Regina alone in the sleek, intimidating office that now tethered her to a man with enough money to buy the world-and enough coldness to freeze it over.

---

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Eliot handed her an itinerary, a thick stack of documents that included a confidentiality agreement, a schedule for fittings, and a strict set of rules for public conduct.

She read every word twice.

Rule #3: No unsanctioned interviews or statements to the press.

Rule #5: Physical displays of affection at public events are encouraged but not required.

Rule #8: Personal romantic relationships during the contract period are prohibited.

Regina exhaled and dropped the packet onto her worn kitchen table back at the bakery apartment that night. Ava was curled up on the couch, unaware of the chaos that now sat in the room like an invisible storm.

She stared at the final page of the contract.

Her name.

His name.

Tied together by ink and desperation.

She was about to fake an entire marriage.

What would Mom and Dad say?

Would they be proud? Disappointed? Would they understand that she wasn't doing this out of greed- but out of survival?

Regina looked over at Ava and whispered, "This is for you."

---

Two weeks later...

The courthouse was cold, gray, and mercifully empty.

Regina wore a simple white dress - sleek, fitted, modest. Frank stood beside her in a tailored navy suit, every inch the composed businessman. The judge didn't ask questions. The paperwork was filed in under ten minutes.

No flowers. No friends. No kiss.

Just a ring slid onto her finger by a man who looked like he hadn't believed in love a day in his life.

"You sure about this?" the judge asked, eyeing Regina.

She nodded once. "Yes."

Frank didn't flinch.

They walked out of the courthouse and straight into a black SUV. Photographers were already waiting - tipped off by someone, no doubt. Regina slipped her hand into Frank's on instinct, and his fingers closed around hers like a well-practiced move.

Flashbulbs popped.

"Mr. Collier! Who's the mystery bride?"

"Is this a surprise wedding?"

"Regina, are you pregnant?"

She stiffened, but Frank didn't miss a beat. He leaned down, brushed his lips lightly against her temple, and said in a low voice, "Smile like I just told you I love you."

Regina plastered on the most believable smile she could. "I think I'm going to be sick," she whispered through her teeth.

He chuckled. "Get used to it. This is the easy part."

As the car pulled away, Regina stared at her reflection in the window.

Married.

To a billionaire.

With no real idea what she'd just walked into.

But the part that unsettled her the most wasn't the cameras or the contract or the cold look in Frank's eyes.

It was the part of her - small, quiet, and dangerous - that wondered if she'd just made a deal that would change her life forever. And not just her bank account.