Love in Disguise: Billionaire Hidden Identity

IER

windows of my family's manor. The view of New York sprawled out beneath me was nothin

tood amidst opulence that seemed to mock me, the lavish furnishings and de

heir, a title that often felt more

fe played out in the headlines of glossy magazin

Mystery Prince of

suggested admiration, yet I f

h pride. But all I could perceive was the suffocating pressure of my

ition, and it bore little resemb

h my father had carved; to marry well, to produce heirs, to uphold the

eft no room for authenticity? The truth was, I

in the polished mirror that lined the entrance. To anyone casual or indifferent, I might appear a

felt nothing like a man in control; it was the f

the dining room. Her voice laced with the warmth that

lace, the stones glimmering as bright

now. It's crucial you're there, networking and making connections. You know how much

nsipid conversations that revolved around wealth and status, where smiles

d, my voice steady but hol

ntering into a relationship with a suitable partner.

y firm, "I'm not ready for that, M

echoed through the room, c

ink of it as an investment in your future. The Mortis

iers became a suffocating shroud once again, smothering my d

enuine connection outside the confines of societal expectations.

e with precision while contemplating the menu, while my father engaged in a power struggle over the wine choices. It was

bligation, a reminder that life in the Mortis h

and college girlfriend, had lived. We'd spent countless afternoons there, our laughter so loud it drowned out the ambient city noise

s that healed but never faded. I became wary, building an emotional wall to shield myself from subsequent and potential relationships, ironically increasing the distance between me an

leaving the table. As I retreated to my study, I settled into the leather chair and pulled

about a charity event, one my parents would undoubtedly endorse,

oductions under the guise of networking that felt like plain interrogations,

erms of my life? Somewhere in the back of my mind, the thought of pretending to be in a relati

y my parents would stop finding potential matches for me, then it was time to start plann