Trapped With The Billionaire

ed down on her like a boulder. She was no longer Angel Monroe, struggling waitress, desperate sister, and forgotten nobody. She was Angel Blackwood now. Married to one of the most powerful men in

e city lights. The Blackwood Tower. Aaron's home-and now hers. Angel barely had time to gather her thoughts before the driver stepped out and opened the door for her. She hesitated, but Aaron was already moving, exiting the car with the kind of confidence that came naturally to him. She followed, stepping into the cool night air. The doorman greeted Aaron with a respectful nod, barely sparing Angel a glance as he opened the entrance for them. The inside was even grander-marble floors, golden chandeliers, and sleek modern furniture that screamed wealth. Aaron strode past the lobby without a word, heading straight for the private elevator. Angel hurried to keep up, the heels of her shoes clicking against the pristine floors. The elevator doors slid open, and they stepped inside. As soon as they closed, trapping them in the confined space, Angel felt the air shift. Aaron's presence was overwhelming. She stole a glance at him. He stood tall, his hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable. "There are rules," he said suddenly, breaking the silence. Angel's spine straightened. "Rules?" "You are my wife in name only," he said, turning slightly to look at her. "I expect you to act the part in public. In private, you will stay out of my way." Her lips parted slightly. "I see." "You don't ask questions about my business, and you don't make demands," he continued. "Your role is simple-exist quietly, and when the time comes, walk away without complications." Angel clenched her fists. Exist quietly? It shouldn't have bothered her. This was exactly what she had a