THREE-YEARS CONTRACT MARRIAGE WITH THE HOT BILLIONAIRE

e

d through me rather than at me. The black dress I wore, the same one I'd worn to every family event

monds called out, snapping her finger

was in full swing, two hundred guests celebrating my stepsister's upcoming marriage to Liam Whitley, heir to a pharm

ed to no

days, none of this

my interview at the marketing firm in Boston. Seven days u

d left me. The lawyer's appointment was scheduled for Monday morning. After three years of hiding money in my mattress, working secret job

as seven

ut through my thoughts. My stepmother appeared at my elbow, her perfectly paint

them now," I

nails dug into my arm. "Must I do everything myself? Go.

elf. Seven more days of this, then I

me, I heard Bridget's laugh as she greeted another guest

ng automatically. The catering staff gave me sympathetic looks but

a text from Landon, my manager at the coffee shop where I

ready. $340. That puts

t seven more days. I had enough now.

ly: "Yes. Thank yo

ton. You deserve

omorrow. I could leave tomorrow, right after the lawyer's appointment. I had already packed a sm

shattered my planning.

friends, her engagement ring catching the light with every dramatic gesture. She looked beautiful in

. Everything I had

"This is my stepsister, Lena. She's been so helpful tonight, playing servant." She

ozen, the familiar burn of humil

ed myself. Just ge

it," one of them said. "Some

om a passing waiter. She turned back

gainst my skin, and for a moment, I felt the envelope in my bra getting damp. Panic shot through m

r following me down the hall. In the bathroom, I carefully extracted the envelope. The c

exhausted, invisible. Tomorrow, this ve

still felt like home. My mother had planted these roses herself, back when she was alive, back when this h

e. Everything was intact-clothes, documents, the small amount

" I whispered to the roses.

ered the moment. Then shouting, lou

hours. I stood, brushing dirt from my

Then shouting, loud enough to carry through the w

stood in the center of the room, her face blotchy with

someone so spoiled, so entitled. My family won't allow it anyway, y

sie must have thrown it at him and set i

hat followed

e and hurled it at the wall, where it shattered into a thous

apologies and excuses. Within minutes, the ba

ek before I saw it coming. The slap

sh in front of our guests, bringing bad luck to thi

eek but said nothing. My father sto

get said. "And clean up thi

while the caterers packed up around me. My father and Bridget had disap

st midnight. I was heading toward the stai

ing. We'll be bankru

his study door,

ood deal," Bridget said.

a marriage alliance. His

give them

o, no

ublicly," my father said. "The Bl

rson. They've only seen photos.

g slipped fr

ather sounde

east this way she'll finally con

all, my carefully constructed

p voice cut through my p