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Saintwood Homecoming

The Placeholder Bride's Secret Billionaire Revenge

The Placeholder Bride's Secret Billionaire Revenge

Luo Ye
For two years, I was the invisible force behind tech billionaire Kieran Douglas, convinced that our "private" romance was his way of protecting us from the tabloid spotlight. I managed his mergers, warmed his bed, and waited for a future that didn't exist. The illusion shattered at 6:00 AM when a Page Six alert debuted Kieran's "real" romance with socialite Aspen Schneider. Before I could even process the betrayal, Kieran sent me a cold, professional text: "Order flowers for Aspen. Pink peonies. Her favorite." When I tried to walk away, my own mother called me a disgrace and threatened to lock my inheritance forever unless I married a sixty-year-old businessman to save her failing estate. At a high-society gala that same night, Aspen intentionally crushed my burned hand in front of the cameras, while Kieran stood by and dismissed me as a "mediocre assistant" who had overstayed her welcome. I stood in the cold New York rain, drenched in champagne and humiliation, realizing that every sacrifice I made for Kieran was a joke. I was a ghost in a penthouse that was never mine, discarded the moment his "soulmate" returned. To the world, I was just a placeholder whose time had run out. But Kieran forgot one thing: my father's multi-million dollar trust fund unlocks the moment I legally marry. I didn't need love; I needed a signature and a shield. I walked into a discreet law firm and signed a marriage contract with a man I believed was the city's most notorious, scandal-ridden playboy. I thought I was marrying a degenerate "beard" to buy my freedom and secure my revenge. I didn't realize the man who signed that paper wasn't a playboy at all, but Gaston Collins-the most powerful and dangerous man on Wall Street-and he had no intention of letting our fake marriage stay fake.
Modern PlayboyBillionaires
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Your brother's wedding should be considered a happy day, right?

But for me, it's not.

In fact, I'm dreading it.

Not because of my brother-or his fiancée, for that matter, I do like her-but because I know who will be there, and that's something I'm not looking forward to.

I have what people call a rotten picker-for men, that is.

Every single guy I ever hooked up with or had a fling with were stupid assholes.

Except one. Spencer Bailey.

And he is precisely the reason why I'm not excited for my brother's wedding.

I'm definitely not ready to see him again.

But to tell my brother that I won't attend his wedding because I'm afraid to face my ex would be pathetic.

Even for me.

And I'm not that person. I'm not someone who runs from problems. I face them head on. Or at least, that's what I like to think I do.

Well, I guess if you're ready for some drama, then my life is definitely the right place for you to find it.

"Stop looking at me like that," I burst to my sister, Lauren, rolling my eyes and tossing my pillow at her. "I've already told you several times that I'm fine. And if anything, you should be taking my side on this. I don't have to remind you of the reasons why this sucks."

"I was just checking on you to make sure you're okay." Lauren tosses the pillow back at me before pulling her light brown hair into a ponytail and fixing her firefighter uniform. It still astonishes me how she can look so pretty wearing a uniform-and before 8:00 A.M. That should be considered a crime. "And honestly, we have, like, thousands of cousins coming to the wedding. Maybe you won't even see Spencer. Let alone bump into him."

She is right about that. We do have a big family. Mom and Dad have, like, countless siblings, which takes us to countless cousins and so on....

"Whatever," I mumble, frustrated. "What are you even doing here? Don't you have to go to work? I don't even know why you moved out in the first place if you are here pretty much every day."

"Well, last time I checked, this is still my parents' house. I can come by anytime I want. And I moved out because I wanted to be closer to the fire department. I can sleep a few more minutes since I don't have to drive there."

I groan, too frustrated to find a proper answer for her. At moments like this, I regret not having my own space.

But honestly, I went down that road several times before, and none of those times could I convince myself that paying rent while my parents own this huge ranch was a good idea. They give me enough privacy; I have my own room. I don't meddle in their business, and they don't meddle in mine, and I get to help them with some of the bills. It's a win-win situation.

"I'll be going now. Are we still on for picking up the dresses tomorrow morning?" Lauren asks with her hand already on the doorknob.

"Yeah, ten A.M. sharp. Otherwise, I'll leave without you," I answer, flashing her a grin and tossing the pillow back at her. She dodges it and turns on her heel, vanishing from my sight before I have the chance to tell her off.

I sigh, falling back on my bed and staring at the ceiling. I really don't want to complain about my life or anything-I'm not that person. I don't mope. I have a good life. I don't even have the right to complain.

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