Married To A Cassanova Billionaire

heels clattering against the tiled floors. The hum of announcements over the intercom mixed with the distan

ike a man used to being in control, weaving through the crowd with an air of arrogance. I

more of a demand disguised as courtesy. He'd smiled tightly, extending a hand I didn't shake. It was a was

e

me as such. From this point forward, we're a family. You'll play your role,

ightmare. Pretending to be a family? Gro

hated him. I hat

my thoughts. His voice was sharp, like a whip cracking in the air.

-just a passport with my new identity, a wallet with a credit card I wasn't allowed to use without

with a forced smile greeted us. "Good afternoon

h a curt nod. "It's just the two of us,"

eyes narrowing ever so slightly, as if she could sense something was off. But whatever suspicion she had, she kept it to herse

rity. The line was long, snaking through the termina

ir toddler perched on the father's shoulders, giggling at everything and nothing. For a moment

Markson hissed, pulli

him but sa

our deal

ptops out, arms raised as we stepped through the body scanner. It all f

nd my head throbbed from the constant noise. Mr. Markson, however, seemed unfaz

ithout looking at me. He was focused on

on the tarmac. Each one represented an escape, a chance to leave this nightma

ould give me a qu

to follow. As we walked down the jet bridge, my stomach tightene

ced before. The seats were wide and plush, with enough legroom to stretch out com

. I had never been in a plane all my life. This was my first tim

agne, sipping it leisurely as

," he muttered with

, my throat too

rning white. The fact remains that I wasn't heading toward a vacation or a

rborne. I stared out the window, watching as the ground below grew

h

cknowledging my presence. I didn't care. The flight attendants were attentive, offering gou

flight entertainment options. None of the movies or TV shows held my interest. M

plane began to drop down slowly as my stomach churned. I g

on ordered, his tone clipp

his knuckles fiercely like he w

upright, swallowing t

walking through another bustling airport. This one was u

de, its driver standing by the passe

also th

son said, gesturin

kin. Mr. Markson followed, and the driver closed the do

past. The buildings in view were tall and imposing, their glass facades reflecting the settin

It was a towering structure of marble and glass, it was ado

Markson said, le

ive floral arrangement in the center. A concierge greeted us with a warm smile gl

it belonged in a magazine. The living area was expansive, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a

"You'll stay in the second bedroom before the wedding," he

ted. It was just as luxurious as the rest of the suite, with

eautiful, but it felt like a prison, i was literally in bondage. Thi

ow-a charade I was

ouldn't give up. I had to do it to ga

I had to survive.