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 5
Izzy kicked off her heels the second she stepped into her apartment.
The place was dimly lit, but familiar, her worn-out couch, the leaning stack of books on the coffee table, the scent of lavender and lemon from the candle Sophia had lit. After the flashing cameras, the sea of faces, and Alex's ice-cold grip on her waist, it felt like stepping back into her real self
But even here, she didn't feel like herself.
"Thank God you're home," Sophia called from the kitchen, a mug of tea in her hands and concern in her eyes. "I kept the TV off. Figured you'd rather not relive it tonight."
Izzy offered a weak smile and flopped onto the couch. "Thanks. I've had enough fake smiles for one lifetime."
Sophia plopped down beside her. "You were good, though. No, seriously, Iz. You were glowing, like an actual billionaire's fiancée."
"I felt like a mannequin," Izzy muttered, reaching for the throw blanket draped over the couch. "Stuffed into someone else's fantasy."
"Well, the dress was a fantasy. Can we talk about that slit?"
Izzy gave a tired laugh. "I almost tripped while walking down the steps. Twice."
"And the diamond?" Sophia leaned in dramatically. "You could signal aircraft with that thing. I practically went blind when you raised your hand."
Izzy glanced at the ring, now sitting silently on the coffee table like it was waiting to accuse her of something. "It doesn't feel like mine."
Sophia's playful smile faded. "That bad, huh?"
Izzy hesitated. "They asked about her. Lila."
Sophia sat up straighter. "Wait. His ex?"
"His late fiancée," Izzy corrected softly. "Someone from the press shouted the question out of nowhere. You should've seen his face, Soph. He went still and then after a moment...he touched me. Like we were something real. Like he had to prove it."
Sophia's brows pinched together. "Was it an act?"
"That's the part I don't know." Izzy picked at a loose thread in the blanket. "He told me not to improvise. To stick to the plan. But after that question, everything changed. It felt like he wasn't pretending anymore. And that scared me more than anything."
They sat in silence for a while.
Then Sophia asked, gently, "Do you think you're starting to like him?"
Izzy looked away. "I think I'm starting to see the broken version of him and part of me wants to reach in."
"Girl..." Sophia sighed. "This whole thing was supposed to be business. Quick cash, fake appearances. You weren't supposed to catch feelings."
"I haven't," Izzy lied. "It's just... he's not the villain everyone warned me about."
"But he's not a hero either," Sophia said, her voice laced with concern. "Don't romanticize a man who can lie that smoothly. You think he's letting you in, but he's just playing his part better than you are."
Izzy rubbed her temples. "I know. I know you're right."
Sophia reached over and took her hand. "Then promise me something."
"What?"
"When this all starts to hurt too much..,...walk away. No money is worth your sanity."
Before Izzy could answer, her phone buzzed against the armrest.
Unknown Number.
She stood, suddenly uneasy. "I'll take this to my room."
Sophia gave a nod, concern flickering again behind her eyes.
Izzy stepped into the bedroom and closed the door softly behind her. The room was quiet, the buzz of the city distant. Her heart pounded heavily. Her chest.
She answered. "Hello?"
A calm, measured voice with a kind of confidence that came from having nothing to prove.
"I hope you know what you're doing, Ms. Hart."
Izzy stiffened. "Who is this?"
"Vivienne Dane."
The name sent a shiver down her spine.
"You don't know me," the woman continued, "but you know my sister. Or at least, her memory. Lila Blackwood."
Izzy's heart sank. "I.....I didn't know she had any family," she said.
"That's the problem with grief," Vivienne said smoothly. "People forget the ones left behind."
Izzy's throat tightened. "Why are you calling me?"
"To know you," Vivienne said, almost with amusement. "And to warn you."
Izzy sat down slowly on the edge of the bed. "About what?"
"This arrangement with Alex," Vivienne said. "It might serve you for now, money, status, attention. But it's built on something sacred, on someone sacred. You're dancing in a graveyard, Ms. Hart. Don't mistake the applause for safety."
Izzy closed her eyes. "I didn't ask for this. I'm just trying to survive."
"Then survive somewhere else."
"I signed a contract."
"Then tear it up."
Izzy gritted her teeth. "That's easy for you to say. You weren't drowning in hospital bills."
Vivienne's tone softened. "I'm not heartless. But I am serious. Leave, before this becomes a story you can't rewrite."
"Is that a threat?"
Vivienne let the silence stretch before answering, "It's a favor. If I wanted to threaten you, you'd know."
The call ended with a quiet click.
Izzy stared at the screen. How the hell could she leave when she hasn't even completed her end of the deal?
Her phone buzzed again.
DAMIEN: Be ready at 7 a.m. Foundation board meeting. Wear navy. No surprises.
Izzy set the phone down in her lap. No surprises? Too late for that.
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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.