Arranged Marriage To The Infamous Billionaire Playboy
Born into luxury, Hermione Watson-Pierce has always felt like merely a pawn in her parents' ruthless game of power. She learned to suppress her emotions, earning herself the title of the "Ice Queen."
Just then, Aiden Mendes bursts into her life-a charming playboy known for his reckless reputation. Aiden chooses to cope with his inner turmoil through a lavish lifestyle, using his charisma and striking looks to keep others at bay.
A looming threat forces them to face a contracted marriage or risk losing their inheritance. When they first meet, Aiden is struck by an unexpected attraction, as if it were love at first sight. Yet, his notorious reputation precedes him, and Hermione makes no effort to hide her disdain.
As their contractual marriage evolves into a battle of wills, Aiden must work to melt Hermione's icy heart, proving that he is more than what meets the eye. But can he persuade her to rise above her prejudices and bravely pursue love?
Chapters
Share
Chapter 4
AIDEN
When Dad informs me about my marriage match at dinner, I bite my tongue. I want to protest, but that would be a waste of breath. Dad's orders are ultimate and binding.
I've learned to be optimistic about every challenge I encounter in this household. I try to find the good side of every displeasing task that comes my way.
The lady I'm expected to marry may be the perfect remedy I need, following my recent breakup. I don't have to love her, since our union is a marriage of convenience, purely contrived for a business purpose.
Besides, my issues with commitment are a factor to contend with. Marrying her will nip my rakish lifestyle in the bud, as my home training won't allow me to cheat while bound to another woman, even if not willingly.
"Who is she?" Beatrice asks, seemingly unaware of this announcement.
I shovel my food into my mouth, barely tasting it, and chew slowly. This is my typical conduct – acting like I'm not there. I only speak when I'm told to speak. I avoid making any noise with my cutlery, lest I attract Beatrice's scornful look.
Being the subject of that look has taught me to be the perfect dinner companion, with impeccable table manners.
Beatrice hates me with passion, and she's made that fact obvious since I was brought into this house.
Lachlan, my stepbrother, shares similar sentiments with his mother. They perceive my presence as a threat to Lachlan's future as the company's successor.
If only they knew about my apathy toward power struggles. I'm grateful for the luxury I enjoy here, but fighting over the inheritance of a man who wouldn't have sought me out if my mom hadn't abandoned me on his property is the last thing on my mind.
"My mom told me she'd be back," I recall, the memory still etched in my mind. But all I saw was her back as she walked away. She never returned. I have no idea if she's dead or missing. It's as if Violet Gallagher's memory and existence never existed.
Moreover, Beatrice regards me with contempt. My background makes her deem me unfit to eat off her pet's plates, let alone share meals with her.
I noticed the abhorrence radiating off her the first moment her eyes set on me. I was wearing my worn-out school clothes, which dulled in comparison to her garish and expensive-looking dress.
I had already braced myself for her disdain, judging from her expression. Still, I put on a cheerful facade. Despite the jabs, flak, and insults, I brush them off with an air of indifference.
They're more irritated by the fact that their actions don't dent my happiness. However, that's a half-truth. I hide my hurt deep down, where they can never see it. Only when I'm alone do I cry out loud, waxing nostalgic.
"Hermione Watson Pierce," Dad answers.
"Watson Foundation," Lachlan inquires, drawing his brows together.
My ears perk up at the name, but it doesn't strike a chord.
"She's a brilliant lady with a bright future ahead of her. Why pair her with him?" Beatrice demands, looking baffled. She casts a pointed glance in my direction. "Lachlan would have made a much more suitable match for the lady."
Dad grunts. "My reasons are none of your concern. Their marriage has nothing to do with suitability or compatibility." Dad waves one finger in Lachlan's direction. "Aren't you seeing someone already?"
Lachlan shifts in his seat, his head hanging low. "No," he responds, before adding, "Our relationship isn't serious," when he observes Dad's skepticism. He can't fool Dad; I'm sure the old man has eyes on us everywhere we go, keeping tabs on our lives. Lachlan doesn't have to attempt deceit to win his favor; Dad can easily sniff through the lie.
To be honest, I have no idea why Lachlan is trying so hard. It's no secret that he's the eventual heir of the company, my presence notwithstanding.
The fact that Dad has placed me in a key role within the company's hierarchy doesn't mean he's setting his sights on me over Lachlan, the son he's groomed as his successor for years before I entered the picture.
I snort under my breath. I doubt the old man will bequeath any of his inheritance to me. I'm the good-for-nothing, long-lost son of the Mendes family, who ought to have remained hidden. Lachlan is the golden son, and everyone knows it.
Dad responds to Lachlan's statement with another grunt. He's a man of few words, not cold, but indifferent. I never feel comfortable under his scrutiny. I rarely see him smile. His aura is intimidating and radiates unease.
"You two should get to know each other. Your marriage plans will kick off soon," Dad informs me.
I shift my focus to him, asking, "How soon is that?"
When his eyes connect with mine, I promptly break eye contact. His eyes look hollow, filled with depths that leave shivers in their wake.
"When do you plan to have the marriage held?" I ask, speaking as though it's not my marriage being discussed.
"In a month's time."
"Okay." I nod.
"It's up to you to charm her. Try to gain her affection. It's what you do best," Dad says, gesturing dismissively in my direction. "Perhaps the only thing you're good at," he adds.
I flatten my lips at the direct insult. I hear Lachlan's snicker across the table. I ignore him, tuning out of the ensuing conversation.
When I finish eating, I silently leave, grumbling a halfhearted goodnight to everyone. I don't get a response, not that I anticipated one anyway.
****
"You don't mean it?" Ray laughs when I tell him about my upcoming nuptials when we meet the following evening.
He's amused that I'll be standing at the altar before he does, given my attitude toward anything long-term and involving commitment.
"Who's the lady?"
"It's Hermione Watson Pierce. I heard she's a prodigy in surgery and all that." There were plenty of praises about her when I looked her up online. Her photos showed a poised woman with piercing green eyes and raven-black hair, her smile radiant and confident. But I'm not naive enough to trust everything the media says. Except the articles written about me – those are accurate.
"Yes, I've heard of her," Ray says, tapping his chin.
I lean forward, curious to hear what he knows. "Any insight into the real woman beyond the screen?"
"She's not normally the type of woman you'd go for." Ray shrugs. "You know how it is with medical students, especially one with her level of excellence at her age." Raymond tilts his jaw meaningfully at me.
I sag back in my chair, holding the waist of my beer bottle. The dim lighting of the restaurant and the hum of conversation around us create a cozy atmosphere, but my mind is elsewhere. "I bet she's an arrogant, narcissistic, and mean woman." A tortured sigh escapes me, and Raymond waves a hand in consolation from across from me.
"My condolences, brother," he says.
"I dread my future now, Raymond. Getting married to Hermione Watson will be a nightmare," I moan aloud, bemoaning my predicament.
"I'm glad our feelings are mutual." A sonorous female voice echoes behind me, sending a shiver down my spine.
I turn to face the owner of the voice as she stands up from her chair, facing me squarely. Our tables are placed side by side, although the seating arrangement keeps our backs turned to each other. Otherwise, I would have noticed her.
My heart skips a beat when our eyes lock. My mouth falls agape as recognition sparks. I'm staring at Hermione Watson Pierce in person, and I just talked badly about her in her presence.
The soft overhead lighting illuminates her features, making her even more breathtaking. I close my mouth, work my jaw, and open it back to apologize, but she speaks before I can.
"It was nice meeting you too, Aiden Mendes," she says, her voice as silky as a siren's. It lures me in, and I drink in its euphony. She smiles, and her eyes sparkle with amusement.
What was I saying about my future with Hermione Watson Pierce? I take my comment back. I earnestly look forward to a marriage with this woman. She's perfection in its physical form.
When she excuses herself to leave, I don't stop staring after her until Ray clears his throat. He looks questioningly at me, a knowing grin across his mouth, when I turn back to face him.
"Mmn?" Ray urges.
"I'm smitten, bro. I think I've fallen in love," I whisper, dreamily conjuring Hermione Watson Pierce's beautiful form in my head.
You may also like
9.0
Ashlyn was supposed to be just a fragile college student, selling her rare blood to a vicious crime syndicate enforcer to keep his dying sister alive.
But the dynamic shattered when Alex returned from a two-month disappearance. He stepped into the penthouse covered in dirt and blood, sporting a horrific, jagged knife wound slashed completely across his face.
Knowing exactly how to exploit his insecurities, Ashlyn played the role of the terrified victim to perfection. She screamed, pushed against his chest, and called him a terrifying monster. Humiliated and enraged by her blatant disgust, Alex violently smashed a marble table and kicked her out. He forced her out into a freezing, torrential rainstorm without a coat, vowing to kill her if she ever showed her face again.
What the ruthless enforcer didn't know was that her pathetic, trembling tears were a flawless, calculated lie. She wasn't a helpless, greedy girl. She was a cold-blooded corporate mastermind hiding from a family of elite assassins. She desperately needed his impenetrable penthouse fortress to stay alive, and she knew the only way to secure her place wasn't to ask for it, but to make him beg for her return.
Three days later, his sister's organs began to fail, and the hospital's blood bank ran dry.
"I'll pay you whatever you want. Just get here."
Listening to the desperate, broken voice of the monster over her burner phone, Ashlyn smiled coldly in the dark. The trap had snapped shut, and he had just handed her all the power.
9.4
Six years ago, Breanna was shoved into a pitch-black hotel suite by her own uncle.
She was forced to endure a brutal night with a drugged stranger just to keep her grandmother's ventilator running.
Nine months later, she gave birth in a cold underground clinic.
But her uncle immediately snatched the crying newborn from her trembling hands, coldly announcing the baby had died.
For six years, Breanna lived in agonizing grief, working as a lowly hotel cleaner just to survive.
But a cruel setup threw her directly into the path of Elliot Finch, the arrogant billionaire from that dark night.
He did not recognize the woman whose life he had completely ruined.
Instead, he looked at her like she was rotting garbage, had his guards drag her into a wet alley, and mercilessly got her fired.
"If I ever see your face again, I will make sure you cannot get a job cleaning toilets."
Breanna was suffocating from the injustice, stripped of her dignity and her family's only lifeline.
Yet, when she instinctively protected a traumatized little boy from bullies, she discovered he was Elliot's son.
The boy clung to her neck, crying and desperately begging his father to let her stay.
But Elliot just threw a massive check at her chest, violently accusing her of brainwashing a sick child for a meal ticket.
Looking at the toxic disgust in his eyes, something inside Breanna finally broke.
She picked up the check, ripped the millions into tiny shreds, and let them rain down on his expensive shoes.
"Keep your dirty money."
She turned her back on the crying boy and the stunned billionaire, deciding she would no longer be their victim.
9.5
Bridget left the office early on her anniversary, her pocket heavy with a custom velvet ring box meant for her fiancé.
But when she pushed open the bedroom door, she found him tangled in their bed with her best friend, Chloe.
"Bridget! Wait, it's not what it looks like!" Jacob stammered, his eyes wide with panic.
"Evidence," Bridget stated coldly, snapping a photo of their naked bodies before fleeing into the freezing New York night.
Desperate to numb the betrayal, she got blackout drunk at an underground lounge and threw herself at a dark, terrifyingly handsome stranger.
She woke up in a penthouse suite alone, finding only a limitless black credit card left on the nightstand.
Humiliated and feeling like a cheap escort, she ran away, swearing to forget the nightmare.
But the nightmare had just begun. When she rushed into the office, she discovered the stranger was Jevon Rocha—the ruthless billionaire CEO of her company.
He didn't fire her. Instead, he trapped her in a twisted, obsessive power game, forcing her into his private life and demanding she report to his penthouse.
Bridget couldn't understand why a ruthless billionaire was so dangerously fixated on a low-level employee.
Until she stumbled upon his secret social media account and saw a crayon drawing of a little kid, captioned with a single word: "Finally."
A wave of absolute horror washed over her. He wasn't just playing games; he was hiding a secret child and a messy, high-stakes family drama.
She refused to be the naive collateral damage in a billionaire's twisted life.
Trembling, Bridget hit "Block" on his profile, determined to escape his dangerous web.
8.0
Eloise Ferguson was the legitimate daughter of a powerful Senator, yet she was treated like a hysterical burden by her own family.
In her past life, her parents forced her to marry a sadistic billionaire for political funding.
When she resisted, they locked her in a psychiatric facility, drugged her, and left her to die in restraints while her "fragile" cousin Jaylene stole her life.
She never understood why her mother hated her so fiercely.
Why did her mother treat her brother Cortez and her cousin Jaylene like absolute royalty, while throwing her own flesh and blood to the wolves?
Opening her eyes again, Eloise found herself back at age twenty-two, trapped in a restroom at a charity gala.
Escaping her abuser, she used her awakened mystic abilities to look at her family's life forces.
What she saw made her blood run cold.
Thick, red biological cords connected her mother directly to both Cortez and Jaylene, intertwining in a perfect symbiotic bond.
They weren't cousins. They were illegitimate twins born from her mother's secret affair.
Eloise was the only true outsider in her own home.
The realization hit her like a physical blow. Her entire life of abuse was just a cover-up for a nest of parasites stealing her father's name and her inheritance.
But this time, she refused to be their victim.
Armed with an unchallengeable executive order she blackmailed out of the United States President, Eloise crushed the hidden microphone in her bedroom.
"Game on, Mother."
8.2
She was the sacrifice-married off to the city's most ruthless billionaire to save a family that never loved her. But when she discovered his betrayal with her own sister, everything shattered.
Pregnant, penniless, and abandoned, Bella Hart disappeared into the night, vowing never to be powerless again.
Few years later, she returns as the CEO of an international empire, more powerful than anyone imagined possible. Her secret weapon? The little boy with piercing grey eyes who calls her "Mommy, he is the son of the man who destroyed her.
Caleb Black spent years drowning in regret, searching for the wife he threw away. Now she's back, untouchable and unforgiving. He'll do anything to reclaim what he lost his wife, his son, his chance at redemption.
But Bella didn't return to forgive, she returned to conquer.
With enemies circling, old wounds bleeding, and a passion that refuses to die, Bella must decide: Will she let the man who broke her back into her heart? Or will she destroy him the way he once destroyed her? In a world of billion-dollar deals and deadly secrets, love is the most dangerous gamble of all.
8.9
Harlow had endured three years of a loveless marriage, funding her husband Beck's life and secretly writing the AI code that saved his failing company.
But when she walked into her family's private memorial library, she found Beck having sex with his mistress, Fallon, right on top of her late father's antique desk.
Instead of showing guilt, Beck proudly announced that Fallon had given him a son and heir.
He demanded Harlow accept the bastard child and stay married just to maintain his perfect public image.
To make matters worse, Fallon was actually a corporate spy from a rival company, actively stealing Harlow's family legacy while Beck willingly handed over the company secrets.
When Harlow demanded an immediate divorce, Beck laughed in her face.
"I will never sign the divorce papers! I will drag this out in court until you bleed dry!"
Looking at her father's crushed pocket watch and the two parasites desecrating her sacred home, Harlow's shock turned into a freezing, absolute clarity.
How could she have spent three years supporting a selfish hypocrite who would so ruthlessly destroy her parents' legacy?
Harlow calmly packed her bags, threw his bespoke suits in the trash, and walked out the door.
She went straight to Fitzgerald Monroe, the most ruthless billionaire corporate lawyer in New York, ready to use her secret identity to make Beck lose everything.