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EXCONVICT TO TRILLIONAIRE WIFE! 18+ Novel Cover

EXCONVICT TO TRILLIONAIRE WIFE! 18+

Five years ago, Summer Rodriguez was framed for a murder she didn’t commit—betrayed by her mother, abandoned by the world, and stabbed in the back by the one person she trusted most: her twin sister. Five years later. She’s out. And she’s coming for everything stolen from her. Sophia has it all: freedom, wealth, family love… and a fiancé who is as irresistible as he is haunted. Kirill Volkov, a Russian trillionaire scarred by childhood trauma and the death of his older brother—the very brother killed in the hit-and-run caused by Summer’s family—lives with obsessive compulsions and a mind that sometimes forgets recent events, and sometimes people's faces. Except Summer's for reasons he doesn't understand. Additionally, love is a danger his body refuses to accept: every time feelings resembling love surface, his body rebels, sending him to the brink of collapse and often to the hospital. When Summer confronts him at the altar disguised as Sophia, he doesn’t stop her. Instead, he pulls her close and declares, “She’s my wife.” What begins as a calculated act of revenge ignites a dangerous, intoxicating game of desire, obsession, and secrets. Because when the woman who was stolen seeks to reclaim everything—and everyone—she’s ever wanted, nothing will ever be the same.
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Chapter 3

SUMMER’S POINT OF VIEW.

I watched from my binoculars while I leaned against the car seat. My sister and her so-called fiancé were having dinner in the palace-like restaurant…or rather, they were supposed to be having dinner. All I could see was the stone-faced billionaire disregard her as though she didn’t exist while she babbled away some nonsense. 

Sophia has never been a smart girl, nor could she hold intellectually stimulating conversations. If the small talk was outside of sex and partying, she would remain mute. I ran my hands through my now black hair; I’d dyed it this morning.

Because if this plan worked, I had to look exactly like my sister. 

I smiled at the image of her excusing herself to probably use the bathroom. Kirill didn’t even glance at her as she said that, nor did he when she stood. His gaze was transfixed on the newspaper he held instead. I tightened the coat I borrowed from a thrift store in a bid to hide my nervousness. The huge brown thing looked exactly like the luxurious one she wore.

Except this one was a fake that barely cost twenty dollars. 

I headed to the receptionist’s desk with a smile that mirrored Sophia’s and said in the same sugary sweet way she did, “Hello, I’m here for dinner with Kirill Volkov.”

“Um….I thought you already walked in.” She said, her eyes scanning my face with shock and confusion. I felt a drop of sweat trickle down my spine, but I covered it with the same smile and said instead, “Yes….but the thing is, I had to get something from my car. And silly me forgot to come back here earlier.” I giggled and leaned in as if I was about to tell her a secret. I needed to leave this place and get to the table as soon as possible…

“You know how handsome Kirill is….I’m super nervous.” I giggled again for added effect, and it worked like a charm. Her tense shoulders eased instantly, and she smiled.

“Alright then, miss. You may return to your dinner.” I didn’t waste a moment longer. My eyes were fixated on him with each step I took, up until I stopped in front of the chair my sister once occupied. 

I cleared my throat quietly, mimicking the way she would speak: “You’re not going to offer to pull back a lady’s chair?” The second I spoke, he lifted his head for the first time since I’d been watching them. His grey irises felt electric against my skin, as they narrowed suspiciously at me. All of a sudden, the man smirked.

Like not smiled……smirked. A full panty-dropping one. 

My throat bobbed as I swallowed, and I tried to ignore the way it suddenly felt as though I was naked in front of him. His eyes ran up and down my body before he dropped the papers he held, leaned back in his seat, and ran his tongue over his lower lip while rubbing his jaw slowly with his index finger.

All of a sudden, he chucked, the sound low, dangerous….and so fucking hot. I felt my heart drop to my pussy instantly.

Not my stomach…or even my fucking feet. My pussy. 

Fuck, this might be harder than I thought if he keeps giving me that fuck me eyes. 

Before I could get another word out, he rose to his feet slowly and swept off his jacket from his gorgeously toned body. His moves were controlled and almost too perfect, as though he had an issue with orderliness. 

He invaded my personal space in seconds, forcing me to bask in the strong scent of his cologne. The musk hit me on my tongue, almost as though I could taste it. But I tried to appear unfazed. He still hasn’t lost the smirk as he said.

“You may have your seat, Miss Sophia.” He drawled, and disappointment sank into me at the mention of her name. For some weird reason, I wanted him to call my real name….even though it was completely against my plan. 

His hand glided onto my back in a slow, seductive manner, followed by nothing as he jerked it off and drew the seat back. Without losing eye contact, I slowly slid onto the seat and watched that twinge of intrigue in his eyes as he went back to his seat. 

“So…what were you saying?” I asked, and took a sip of the red wine. I tried not to grimace at the horrible taste in my mouth as I placed the glass back where I found it. Sophia has the worst wine-picking choices, damnit. 

“You also don’t like it?” he asked, his eyes still regarding me with the same sense of intrigue and curiosity I’d seen earlier. 

I didn’t know when I nodded and said, “No, it's horrible.” My eyes widened at that slip-up….if I were really Sophia, I would swear that this was perfect….

Should I take it back?

Or run along with it?

“Perfect.” He smirked. “We have the same opinion. Frankly, I think it shouldn’t even be on any shelves.” 

“So do I.” 

We laughed together for a moment, but all of a sudden, silence stretched out between us. I licked my lips to hide how nervous I truly was, as my hands shook against my thighs.

I opened my mouth to speak, he beat me to it: “So when will you stop pretending to be Sophia when you clearly are not?” 

 My eyes widened, and a squeaky sound came out of me. I felt a sense of shame wash over me at how quickly he caught me. “I have no idea what you’re referring to,” I said instead, and shrugged my shoulders to add to the nonchalant effect. 

“Let's stop playing games.” He responded with a chuckle and lifted his hand to signal a waiter over. “Take this monstrosity away.” He ordered with a flick of his finger. My cheeks reddened as I moved to get up myself before I would add more embarrassment to this already humiliating night.

But to my utter surprise, the waiter picked up the wine glasses, the food, and walked away as soon as the table was cleared. 

“Wait….you didn’t mean me?” I asked, my eyes running over his face to see if I could decipher anything about him, but the man was sealed like a vault. I could barely read him.

“No.” That was all he said. But I guess he couldn’t because the waiter, accompanied by some others, brought a different bottle of wine, and more food. 

“So….what are you saying?”

“Why are you here?” he asked as he poured me a glass. “And don’t lie to me. Nobody dresses like a carbon copy of someone else without having a motive. And something tells me….you have plenty.”

“Kirill Volkov,” I said, calling his full name to his face; something no one was allowed to do according to the papers. “Marry me instead.”

He raised his head as soon as I said the word ‘marry’.

“What?” he said with a chuckle. 

“You heard right, Kirill.” 

He was about to speak when my sister’s voice interrupted us. “What the hell?” She screeched, which almost forced me to break eye contact with him, but the electricity in his gaze was practically hypnosis, because even if I wanted to, I couldn’t pull away.

“What the hell are you doing here, Summer?” She yelled again, her stomping sounds directly within earshot as she stopped right beside me. 

“So…what do you say?” I asked, completely ignoring her as I smiled at him. 

“What are you doing speaking to my fiancé? Kirill, get her out of here now!” She whined, but Kirill barely paid her any mind.

Instead, he smiled at me in the same way he did earlier. His eyes still lit up with the intrigue from earlier, but at the same time, I could see heat in his gaze. 

Sophia’s hand connected with mine as she tried to lift me from the seat. “You want to taint Kirill with your bad luck, don’t you? You already disgraced the family, you bitch!” She screeched again, but neither Kirill nor I regarded her. It was as if she faded into the background. 

“Miss Rodriguez….I think it’s best if you leave.” He said, and I was left stunned. I could practically feel Sophia’s victory glare at his rejection. But instead of letting it get to me, I dusted the invisible dust from my cheap knock-off coat, rose to my feet with my head high, and walked away with a sway of my hips.

Because I knew he was watching me. 

Sophia might think she’s won…but she has no idea what's coming. 

I would take everything from her.

Her name.

Her life.

Her perfect, glittering future.

And when she walked down that aisle, thinking she’d won —

It would be my hand Kirill Volkov took.

I smiled, the city lights flickering gold in my eyes as I clutched onto the steering wheel of the car I borrowed.

“Laugh while you can, Sophia,” I whispered to the wind. “Because the next time you see me… you’ll be the one on your knees.” 

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