Faking it with the billionaire
Blurb
When broke event planner Isabella "Izzy" Hart agrees to fake an engagement with cold, commanding tech billionaire Alexander Blackwood, she thinks it'll be simple: smile for the cameras, fake a few kisses, collect the money, and walk away.
But nothing about Alex is simple.
Not the way he looks at her.
Not the way he touches her, as she belongs to him.
And definitely not the way he says:
"If this is just business... why does it feel like you're mine?"
It was supposed to be fake.
Now neither of them knows what's real.
Chapters
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Chapter 3
Izzy didn't recognize herself in the mirror. A sleek black dress hugged her frame, tailored to perfection courtesy of the stylist she'd met twenty minutes ago. The heels were too tall. The lipstick is too bold. The diamond ring on her finger? Too heavy, like it knew it didn't belong there.
But none of that mattered now. The contract was signed.
And the hospital bill? Already half-paid.
She stared at her reflection. She didn't look like an event planner or a daughter scrambling to keep her mother alive. She looked like the perfect Billionaire's wife.
"I look like someone else," she murmured.
The door creaked open behind her.
"They call that transformation," Nathan said, sauntering in with a smirk and a folder under his arm. "The good kind. Cinderella but make it NDA."
Izzy turned. "And you're what? The fairy godmother?"
"I'm the guy who makes sure the coach doesn't turn into a flaming PR disaster halfway through the ball."
Nathan slid the tablet toward her. "Study up. This is your new life."
On-screen: a detailed timeline of their relationship, entirely fictional. First meeting at a charity auction. Private dinners. Paparazzi shots doctored to look like they'd been dating for months. It was meticulous. Down to their shared Spotify playlist and favorite late-night diner.
"I hate this," she muttered.
"Good," Nathan said. "Means you'll play it safe."
She looked up. "Is that what you do? Just follow Alex around cleaning up his messes?"
"I clean up everyone's messes," he said smoothly. "It's how I know this one's going to be a hurricane," he whispered, causing Izzy to roll her eyes.
The elevator dinged and Alex stepped in, dressed in a black suit matching Izzy's dress. His presence changed the temperature of the room.
Izzy straightened instinctively.
"You're late," Nathan said, checking his watch.
"I'm busy," Alex replied, not sparing him a glance. His eyes landed on Izzy. "You're ready."
It wasn't a question.
She swallowed. "As I'll ever be."
Alex extended a hand. She hesitated, then slipped hers into his.
"We go in. We smile. We answer only what we've rehearsed," he said. "No improvising."
"I've handled interviews before," she said.
"Not like this."
They stepped into the elevator. Nathan stayed behind, watching them like a coach sending rookies into the final quarter.
"Try not to say anything stupid. Or real." Nathan yelled.
The elevator opened into the lobby, where chaos had already bloomed outside the building. Photographers pressed against the glass. Reporters shouted behind the velvet ropes. A thousand eyes are trained on the doors.
"God," she whispered.
"Smile," Alex said, reaching for her hand. "And don't look like you want to run."
Izzy's stomach tightened and Alex could feel her nervousness.
"Just keep your eyes on me," he said under his breath.
The doors opened and the paparazzi swarmed them.
"Izzy, over here!"
"Alex, congratulations!"
"Let us see the ring!"
Izzy raised her hand slightly, letting out a deep breath.
"Ms. Hart, how did he propose?" someone called.
She forced a smile. "Privately. It was... unexpected, but beautiful."
"Did you cry?" another shouted.
"She threatened to throw champagne at me," Alex added smoothly. The press laughed.
A reporter called out, "Alex, what made you fall for her?"
He didn't hesitate. "She tells me the truth. No matter how much I hate it."
The crowd softened as a murmur of "Awws" erupted.
Another voice: "Izzy, what do you admire most about Alex?"
She looked up at him. The man beside her was an arrogant, self-centered jerk.
But she'd read the file. She knew exactly what to say.
"His loyalty," she said. "Even when he pretends he doesn't care, he protects the people who matter to him."
Alex's jaw twitched and Izzy caught sight of it.
"Will there be an engagement party?"
"What's the wedding date?"
"Are you planning to move in together?"
They both answered with ease, like they actually meant everything. Izzy started to feel the rhythm. She played her part, smiled at just the right moments. Caressed Alex's hand multiple times and the press couldn't help but feel the chemistry.
A voice from the back cut through the noise. It was louder and more stern.
"Alex! How do you think your late ex-fiancée Lila would feel about this engagement?"
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8.0
When gifted cellist Vivienne Aurel inherits her late father's catastrophic $4.2 million debt, she expects to lose everything. She doesn't expect the debt to be bought by Caspian Vane, the most feared private equity magnate in New York. Caspian doesn't want to ruin her; he wants her to work exclusively for him as the artistic director of his new cultural foundation for eighteen months. Forced into his world under a binding agreement, Vivienne prepares to fight against a cold, transactional cage. But as the intense, quiet proximity between them begins to blur the lines of their contract, she discovers a terrifying truth: the man who now owns her future has been watching her from the shadows long before she ever knew his name.
8.5
For five years, Alena lived as the secret girlfriend of Hollywood's golden boy, Kane Moody, locked away in a luxury penthouse.
Everything shattered when Vanity Fair announced his engagement to a famous actress, quoting him saying it was his "first time finding real love." But instead of letting Alena go, Kane's security team trapped her inside the apartment.
When she tried to fight back, she discovered the horrifying truth.
The entire penthouse was wired with hidden cameras, recording her most private breakdowns to use as blackmail.
His crisis team threatened her sick mother and forced Alena to sign away her life.
He even used her trust fund to secretly buy his new fiancée a $2.4 million emerald necklace.
The darkest betrayal came when she sneaked out to buy emergency contraceptives, only for Kane to call her untraceable burner phone.
"You don't need that," he whispered.
He revealed that months ago, under the guise of a vitamin shot, his private doctor had secretly implanted a three-year contraceptive device in her arm.
Alena was paralyzed with dread, her body violated and her existence reduced to a node in his surveillance network. She couldn't understand why a man who publicly discarded her refused to let her leave his sight.
Desperate, she used a secret work assignment to flee on a private helicopter to an isolated cabin in Aspen. But as the chopper flew away and the cabin door opened, Kane was standing by the fire, smiling as the winter storm rolled in.
8.6
She gave up a billion-dollar fortune for love.
He humiliated her, betrayed her, and threw her out. Pregnant and alone.
Five years later, Emma Weiss is back.
Not as the pathetic wife he despised, but as the hidden heiress who owns the empire he's desperately begging to save.
Now Jasper Parrish will learn the hard way: never underestimate a woman scorned.
While he crawls for scraps, another man is ready to give her everything she deserves: passion, power, and a love that doesn't destroy.
Revenge has never been this sweet... or this hot.
9.8
Adeline's stepmother had secretly drugged her for years, turning a child genius into a drooling, mentally disabled laughingstock just so her stepsister could steal her life.
But when her greedy father sold her off to Griffin Herring—a violent, untouchable billionaire psychopath—to save his company, things took a deadly turn.
Before the wedding, Griffin attacked her in a dark alley, nearly snapping her neck before stealing her grandfather's silver necklace.
That necklace held a micro-drive with her family's deepest secrets, and without it, she had nothing.
Back at the estate, her situation only worsened. Her stepsister Damaris paraded around in the Herring family's diamond engagement gifts, trying to force-feed Adeline wet dog food on an Instagram live stream.
When Adeline's calculated "clumsiness" ruined the video, her furious father locked her in a damp, rusted basement.
"Give her to the psycho," her stepmother hissed through the door. "Let him lock her away forever."
Listening from the shadows, Adeline's fists clenched until her palms bled.
Her supposed mental fog wasn't a tragedy—it was a calculated assassination of her mind. They had destroyed her childhood and were now throwing her to a monster just to keep the billions.
The dull, empty look in Adeline's eyes vanished instantly, replaced by a razor-sharp, chilling clarity.
She pulled a thin surgical needle from her messy bun and picked the heavy iron padlock in ten seconds. It was time to break into the billionaire's penthouse, take back her necklace, and tear them all apart.
7.6
I was the ultimate trophy wife, a polished ornament in Francisco Zimmerman’s billionaire empire. For three years, I perfected the "Zimmerman Wife Smile," playing the role of the devoted partner while smoothing the Egyptian cotton of his shirts.
The illusion shattered when I stood outside his study and heard him laughing with his mistress, Annalise.
"She’s just a vase that only knows how to smile," Francisco’s voice was cold, devoid of any warmth. "As long as I pay the maintenance fees on time, she stays obedient."
I walked out that night with nothing but a canvas bag and the clothes on my back. But Francisco wasn't finished with his "asset." He froze my bank accounts and used his massive influence to blacklist me from every interior design firm in New York. He tracked my phone, watching me struggle from the shadows, waiting for me to starve so I would crawl back to his mansion.
He even showed up at the dive bar where I was playing piano for rent money, mocking my desperation.
"You have technique, but no heart," he sneered, tossing a silver coin into my tip jar as if I were a beggar. "You're hollow, Iris. Just like your pride."
I couldn't believe this was the same man whose life I had saved during a bloody night in Macau. To him, I wasn't a wife; I was a stock price that needed stabilizing. The more I fought for my independence, the tighter he pulled the net, determined to break my spirit until I had no choice but to return to his gilded cage.
Then, the morning sickness hit. I realized I wasn't just carrying my own life anymore—I was carrying his heir. If Francisco found out, he would never let us go; he would turn my child into another "performance bonus" for his brand.
Looking at the sonogram, I knew a divorce would never be enough to escape a man who thought he owned the world.
"I'm not going back," I whispered, staring at his yacht moored in the harbor. "To save this baby, Iris Potter has to die."
8.2
Bellmere University wasn't supposed to be a punishment. But it became one the second Aria Lancaster met him.
Sebastian Wolfe-the new Dean. Billionaire. Ruthless. And her father's oldest friend.
He's twice her age, cold as ice, and dangerously in control.
She's innocent, defiant, and off-limits.
One mistake lands her in his office.
One punishment strips her bare.
And one rule changes everything:
Obey him, or be expelled.
But what starts as punishment quickly turns into obsession.
And when secrets unravel and control slips, there's only one thing left to do:
Break the rules. Or break each other.