5.0
Comment(s)
58
View
30
Chapters

Cassie Monroe never imagined she'd find herself in a high-stakes game of power and money - or that she'd be the one for sale. When her struggling boutique faces bankruptcy, Cassie has no choice but to accept a once-in-a-lifetime offer: a marriage of convenience with Dominic Blackwell, a ruthless billionaire who could save her business with a single signature. The deal is simple: a year-long marriage to help Dominic secure a vital business merger, and in return, financial freedom for Cassie. But there's nothing simple about the magnetic, enigmatic Dominic. Beneath his cool exterior lies a man with secrets as deep as his pockets, and Cassie can't decide if she's his savior or his pawn. As their arrangement blurs the line between business and pleasure, Cassie finds herself falling for the man she's supposed to be pretending to love. Just when she thinks she's seen beyond Dominic's façade, a hidden truth shatters her trust: Dominic orchestrated their entire meeting, knowing more about her past than she could have ever guessed. Was she chosen for this arrangement because of fate, or because of a carefully plotted plan?

Chapter 1 1

The rain beat against the glass windows of Cassie Monroe's boutique like an uninvited guest demanding entry. Inside, the shop was quiet, save for the rhythmic tick of an antique clock that Cassie had found at a flea market in Brooklyn. It was supposed to be a good-luck charm - a reminder of the early days when she first opened her little store on a shoestring budget. Now it only seemed to mock her with every tick, counting down the minutes to the inevitable end.

Cassie swept her fingers through her long, damp hair, pulling it into a loose bun as she looked at the shop floor. The racks of dresses and tailored blazers, once proudly displayed in bright, colorful arrangements, now seemed like ghosts of a dream she was no longer sure she believed in. She'd built this place from scratch, pouring in every dollar she had and countless hours of work. But it wasn't enough. The bank's warning letter was still crumpled in her purse, the ink smeared from the rain she had walked through earlier.

The sound of the front door creaking open pulled her from her thoughts. Cassie turned, expecting a rare customer on such a stormy afternoon. Instead, a tall man stepped inside, shaking raindrops from his dark, tailored coat. His presence was commanding, as if the very air in the room shifted to accommodate him. He wasn't someone she recognized, but there was an air about him - the kind of man who seemed out of place anywhere but the boardroom of a Manhattan skyscraper.

"Can I help you?" Cassie's voice was even, professional, masking the unease she felt.

He met her eyes with an intensity that almost made her flinch. His hair was slicked back, dark with rainwater, and his jaw was covered in a slight shadow of stubble, as though he'd been too busy conquering the world to bother shaving that morning. She couldn't place his age - early thirties, perhaps. He was handsome, but it was the cold sharpness in his gaze that caught her off guard. He was looking at her as if he already knew her, as if he'd been searching for her.

"I'm here for you, actually," he said, his voice smooth, like expensive whiskey.

Cassie's heart skipped a beat, but she quickly masked her surprise with a raised eyebrow. "For me? I think you have the wrong shop."

He stepped closer, pulling a card from his coat pocket and placing it on the counter between them. She glanced down at the name embossed in gold: Dominic Blackwell. The name struck a distant chord, something she'd seen on the news or in a magazine, tied to business deals and billion-dollar investments.

"Cassie Monroe," he said, more a statement than a question.

She met his gaze again, trying to decipher what he wanted from her. "That's right. And you are...?"

"Someone who can offer you a solution to your problem," Dominic replied, the corner of his mouth lifting in a slight, almost predatory smile.

Cassie felt a flash of irritation. She didn't like being cornered in her own space, especially by a man who looked at her like she was just another acquisition. "I don't have a problem," she lied.

"Is that so?" He leaned against the counter, his eyes never leaving hers. "You owe the bank two hundred thousand dollars. Your landlord has given you notice to vacate unless you come up with the back rent in the next thirty days. And your last sales report showed a thirty percent drop in revenue compared to this time last year."

Cassie's stomach twisted, her carefully constructed mask cracking just a bit. How did he know all this? And why was he telling her?

"You've done your homework," she said, her voice colder now. "But that doesn't explain why you're here."

Dominic straightened, brushing a raindrop from the sleeve of his coat. "I have a proposition for you. One that could solve all your financial issues."

Cassie crossed her arms, trying to keep her expression neutral. "I'm not interested in whatever you're selling."

He laughed then, a low, rich sound that seemed to fill the entire room. "I'm not selling anything, Ms. Monroe. I'm offering you a deal."

"And what kind of deal requires you to dig into my personal life?" She hated how defensive she sounded, but the walls were closing in on her, and she didn't know how to stop them.

Dominic moved closer, lowering his voice as if they were sharing a secret. "The kind that could change your life. Marry me, Cassie."

Cassie's breath caught in her throat. She stared at him, expecting a punchline that never came. He wasn't joking. His eyes held hers, serious and unyielding.

"Excuse me?" She finally managed, the word coming out like a hiss.

"It's a business arrangement," he continued, his tone calm, like he was discussing the weather. "A marriage of convenience. In exchange, I'll clear your debts, pay off your landlord, and provide you with a financial cushion to rebuild your business."

Cassie's laugh was sharp and humorless. "You can't be serious."

"I am," Dominic said simply. "And you should be too. You're drowning, Cassie. I'm offering you a lifeline."

"A lifeline that comes with strings," she snapped back. "Why would I ever agree to something like this? You don't even know me."

Dominic's smile faded, replaced by something darker, almost haunted. For a brief second, Cassie thought she saw a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. "On the contrary, Ms. Monroe, I know more about you than you think. I've watched you fight to keep this business afloat, seen the sacrifices you've made. I know you're strong, resilient, and that's exactly why I chose you."

"Chose me?" The words felt wrong, like she was an item picked off a shelf.

"Yes," he said, taking a step closer. "Because I don't want just any woman standing beside me. I want someone who won't break under pressure. Someone who can play the part and hold her own in my world."

Cassie shook her head, the reality of the situation sinking in like a stone in her chest. "This is insane."

"It's practical," Dominic countered. "We both get what we need. You get financial freedom. I get the stability I need for a crucial merger."

Cassie opened her mouth to argue, but the words wouldn't come. Because as much as she hated it, he was right about one thing: she was drowning. The bills were piling up, and the future she'd worked so hard for was slipping through her fingers.

"You have one week to decide," Dominic said, turning to leave. "Think about it, Cassie. And when you realize you don't have a better option, you know where to find me."

With that, he was gone, leaving her standing alone in the silence of her empty boutique, her heart racing and her mind spinning.

What kind of man walks into a woman's life and offers marriage like it's a business deal?

And what kind of woman would ever say yes?

Cassie didn't know the answer. But as she looked around her beloved shop, the one she'd built with her own two hands, she realized she might not have the luxury of saying no.

Continue Reading

Other books by Veronica lodge

More

You'll also like

The Ghost Wife's Billion Dollar Tech Comeback

The Ghost Wife's Billion Dollar Tech Comeback

Huo Wuer
5.0

Today is October 14th, my birthday. I returned to New York after months away, dragging my suitcase through the biting wind, but the VIP pickup zone where my husband’s Maybach usually idled was empty. When I finally let myself into our Upper East Side penthouse, I didn’t find a cake or a "welcome home" banner. Instead, I found my husband, Caden, kneeling on the floor, helping our five-year-old daughter wrap a massive gift for my half-sister, Adalynn. Caden didn’t even look up when I walked in; he was too busy laughing with the girl who had already stolen my father’s legacy and was now moving in on my family. "Auntie Addie is a million times better than Mommy," my daughter Elara chirped, clutching a plush toy Caden had once forbidden me from buying for her. "Mommy is mean," she whispered loudly, while Caden just smirked, calling me a "drill sergeant" before whisking her off to Adalynn’s party without a second glance. Later that night, I saw a video Adalynn posted online where my husband and child laughed while mocking my "sensitive" nature, treating me like an inconvenient ghost in my own home. I had spent five years researching nutrition for Elara’s health and managing every detail of Caden’s empire, only to be discarded the moment I wasn't in the room. How could the man who set his safe combination to my birthday completely forget I even existed? The realization didn't break me; it turned me into ice. I didn't scream or beg for an explanation. I simply walked into the study, pulled out the divorce papers I’d drafted months ago, and took a black marker to the terms. I crossed out the alimony, the mansion, and even the custody clause—if they wanted a life without me, I would give them exactly what they asked for. I left my four-carat diamond ring on the console table and walked out into the rain with nothing but a heavily encrypted hard drive. The submissive Mrs. Holloway was gone, and "Ghost," the most lethal architect in the tech world, was finally back online to take back everything they thought I’d forgotten.

The Billionaire's Cold And Bitter Betrayal

The Billionaire's Cold And Bitter Betrayal

Clara Bennett
5.0

I had just survived a private jet crash, my body a map of violet bruises and my lungs still burning from the smoke. I woke up in a sterile hospital room, gasping for my husband's name, only to realize I was completely alone. While I was bleeding in a ditch, my husband, Adam, was on the news smiling at a ribbon-cutting ceremony. When I tracked him down at the hospital's VIP wing, I didn't find a grieving husband. I found him tenderly cradling his ex-girlfriend, Casie, in his arms, his face lit with a protective warmth he had never shown me as he carried her into the maternity ward. The betrayal went deeper than I could have imagined. Adam admitted the affair started on our third anniversary-the night he claimed he was stuck in London for a merger. Back at the manor, his mother had already filled our planned nursery with pink boutique bags for Casie's "little princess." When I demanded a divorce, Adam didn't flinch. He sneered that I was "gutter trash" from a foster home and that I'd be begging on the streets within a week. To trap me, he froze my bank accounts, cancelled my flight, and even called the police to report me for "theft" of company property. I realized then that I wasn't his partner; I was a charity case he had plucked from obscurity to manage his life. To the Hortons, I was just a servant who happened to sleep in the master bedroom, a "resilient" woman meant to endure his abuse in silence while the whole world laughed at the joke that was my marriage. Adam thought stripping me of his money would make me crawl back to him. He was wrong. I walked into his executive suite during his biggest deal of the year and poured a mug of sludge over his original ten-million-dollar contracts. Then, right in front of his board and his mistress, I stripped off every designer thread he had ever paid for until I was standing in nothing but my own silk camisole. "You can keep the clothes, Adam. They're as hollow as you are." I grabbed my passport, turned my back on his billions, and walked out of that glass tower barefoot, bleeding, and finally free.

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book