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Flash Marriage To My Best Friend's Father
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.
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The desert heat of Coachella was intense, but I was ready for a day of music and fun, especially knowing my boyfriend, Jake, was five hours away, supposedly stuck in the library studying for a huge exam.
My phone buzzed in my hand, a small notification flashing: "Connected to Jake' s iPhone."
My heart stopped.
He was here, his personal hotspot active, confirming the lie.
Then, the crowd cam zoomed in, and my face filled the giant screens.
A mic was thrust into my hand, and in front of thousands, I asked for my 'lost' boyfriend, describing his distinctive Nirvana shirt and backward cap.
Everyone played along in a giant 'Where' s Waldo,' until the cameras found him: Jake, in a VIP cabana, kissing a blonde girl in a tiny pink top.
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The Mic Drop Queen: My Unapologetic Rise
The desert heat of Coachella was intense, but I was ready for a day of music and fun, especially knowing my boyfriend, Jake, was five hours away, supposedly stuck in the library studying for a huge exam. My phone buzzed in my hand, a small notification flashing: "Connected to Jake' s iPhone." My h
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