Flash Marriage To The Secret Billionaire CEO

Chapter 3

Word Count: 752 | Released on: Today at 10:43

oice was low, the gentle smile he'd worn while watc

e Curry, nodded. "Yes, sir. All information regarding you and Ms

'Captain Harmon Chandler' identity to be flawless. AeroLux personnel files, payroll, flight logs. Make it airtight

he salary will be wired from your personal account, routed through a thi

Manhattan. When it stopped in the private garage beneath the gleaming Chandler Group t

propped her phone on the kitchen counter and video-cal

and, wiggling her ring

To who? Not that billionaire you're always co

tory, ending with the most important part. "And he's not the billionair

mixture of shock and suspicion. The sound of f

security number? Have you met his family?" Tessa

ized how little she actually knew. "It was lov

etter than to argue with Erin when she was in this state. "Okay. Ju

though she thought Tes

of doubt had been planted. Tess

the keyboard. This is stupid, she thought, but ty

er. But then she saw it. A link to an open-access employee forum for

clic

, smiling for the camera. And there, in the back row,

aptain Chandler is definitely the

placed by a warm, foolish grin.

yde Curry, who used a long-dormant account to upload the pre-prepared photo

e stood before Harmon's desk. "Sir, her friend raised suspicions. We've handl

loor-to-ceiling window. He ju

filled with photos of Erin. From her awkward mi

in two braids, a gap-toothed smile on her face at some long-forgotten

per. "Have the PR department look into her design s

n remained neutra

the smiling girl. "An investment. I want my wife,

Chapter End

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Flash Marriage To The Secret Billionaire CEO

REGINA HUTCHINSON Romance

“I thought I was just marrying a middle-class commercial pilot who proposed to me in a Brooklyn cemetery to fulfill his grandmother's bizarre dying wish. But when an arrogant pilot tried to harass me at the airport, my "ordinary" husband suddenly appeared, his eyes like chips of ice. "Take your hand off my wife." With that single cold command, he had the airline's top executives groveling and the man practically fired on the spot. Everyone called him "Mr. Chandler." He handed me an exclusive black Centurion card, claiming it was just a standard "manager's perk." His retired parents, who supposedly ran a small business, visited me wearing Patek Philippe watches. I ignored all the glaring red flags, foolishly believing I had just lucked into a stable, caring marriage after a lifetime of disappointments. Yet, despite his constant, suffocating generosity, he kept a physical wall between us. After a kiss so desperate and hungry it felt like he had been starving for it his entire life, he violently pushed me away. "We should take this slow." I couldn't understand why a man who looked at me with such intense, possessive devotion would treat our marriage like a sterile business deal. Why was he orchestrating every perfect detail of my life while refusing to even share a bed with me? I had no idea that the man sleeping in the guest room wasn't a pilot at all. He was Harmon Chandler, the ruthless billionaire emperor of the Chandler Group. And he had been secretly monitoring my every move for ten years.”