BILLIONAIRE’S DIVORCED WIFE IS HIS LUNA by AuthorRuby

Flash Marriage To My Best Friend's Father

Madel Cerda

I was once the heiress to the Solomon empire, but after it crumbled, I became the "charity case" ward of the wealthy Hyde family. For years, I lived in their shadows, clinging to the promise that Anson Hyde would always be my protector. That promise shattered when Anson walked into the ballroom with Claudine Chapman on his arm. Claudine was the girl who had spent years making my life a living hell, and now Anson was announcing their engagement to the world. The humiliation was instant. Guests sneered at my cheap dress, and a waiter intentionally sloshed champagne over me, knowing I was a nobody. Anson didn't even look my way; he was too busy whispering possessively to his new fiancée. I was a ghost in my own home, watching my protector celebrate with my tormentor. The betrayal burned. I realized I wasn't a ward; I was a pawn Anson had kept on a shelf until he found a better trade. I had no money, no allies, and a legal trust fund that Anson controlled with a flick of his wrist. Fleeing to the library, I stumbled into Dallas Koch-a titan of industry and my best friend's father. He was a wall of cold, absolute power that even the Hydes feared. "Marry me," I blurted out, desperate to find a shield Anson couldn't climb. Dallas didn't laugh. He pulled out a marriage agreement and a heavy fountain pen. "Sign," he commanded, his voice a low rumble. "But if you walk out that door with me, you never go back." I signed my name, trading my life for the only man dangerous enough to keep me safe.

Romance CEO Billionaires Age Gap One-night Stand

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Evelyn pulled the silk sheet up over her bare shoulders. Her chest still heaved, her breathing uneven from the intimacy they had just shared. The heat of his skin seemed to linger on hers, a phantom warmth in the dim light of the master bedroom.

Julian stood up from the edge of the mattress. He did not look back. His broad back and the hard lines of his muscles looked rigid, carved from cold stone under the glow of the wall sconce.

He walked toward the mahogany walk-in closet. His bare feet sank into the thick Persian rug, making absolutely no sound.

Evelyn watched him, her heart maintaining a steady, hopeful rhythm. That rhythm shattered when Julian emerged wearing a chilled silk robe. He held a thick manila envelope in his right hand.

He walked back to the bed and tossed the envelope onto the mattress. It landed near her knees with a heavy, muffled thud.

Evelyn's eyes dropped to the brown paper. A cold dread pooled in her stomach. Her fingers trembled slightly as she reached out and pulled the flap open.

She slid the documents out. The bold, black letters at the top of the first page screamed at her: DIVORCE AGREEMENT.

Evelyn snapped her head up. She stared at Julian, her eyes searching his sharp, handsome features for any sign of a cruel joke. His jaw was set.

"Sign it," Julian said. His voice held zero temperature. He looked down at her as if she were a stranger who had overstayed her welcome.

He adjusted the belt of his robe. "Scarlett landed at JFK an hour ago. I need my single status restored to welcome her back."

The name hit Evelyn like a physical blow to the sternum. Scarlett Vance.

All the blood drained from Evelyn's face. Her heart felt as if an invisible fist had reached into her chest and crushed it flat. Her lungs burned. She could not pull in a single breath.

She bit down hard on her lower lip, forcing the tears to stay behind her eyes. Suddenly, her stomach violently twisted. A wave of intense nausea surged up her throat.

Evelyn clamped a hand over her mouth. She threw the silk sheet aside, stumbled off the bed, her legs weak and shaking, and rushed into the master bathroom.

She gripped the edges of the cold marble sink. She hunched over, gagging, her body shaking as dry heaves wracked her chest.

Julian stood outside the frosted glass door. His brow furrowed in deep irritation.

"Don't use cheap tricks to stall for time, Evelyn," Julian's voice cut through the heavy door, laced with brutal mockery. "Faking an illness won't change anything."

Evelyn turned on the faucet. She splashed freezing water onto her face. She stared at her pale, hollow reflection in the mirror. The water dripped from her chin. The naive hope in her eyes died, replaced by a clear, sharp resolve.

She grabbed a towel, dried her face, and walked out of the bathroom.

She walked straight to the closet and pulled a long trench coat off a hanger. She slipped it over her shoulders, completely ignoring the divorce papers lying on the bed.

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