Flash Marriage To My Ruthless Billionaire Husband

Evelina pushed the heavy, black-rimmed glasses up the bridge of her nose. She lowered her head, letting her thick bangs fall forward to cover the left side of her face. Beneath the hair, a hyper-realistic, jagged red birthmark stretched from her cheekbone to her jaw. She adjusted the straps of her frayed canvas backpack and walked straight toward the security desk in the lobby of the Montgomery Corporation headquarters. The polished marble floor reflected the cold, sterile lights overhead. A massive security guard stepped into her path. He held up a hand, his face set in a hard line. "QR code for your appointment," he demanded, his voice echoing slightly in the cavernous space. Evelina shrank back, her shoulders curling inward. She forced her breathing to become shallow and rapid, mimicking panic. "I... I don't have one," she stammered, keeping her voice barely above a whisper. "Mr. Doyle Fields called me. I'm the emergency courier. He said he needed these files right now." The guard narrowed his eyes. He looked at her cheap, oversized sweater and the ugly mark on her face. Disgust flickered in his expression. He reached for the landline phone on the desk. "I'll check with the executive floor," he muttered, turning his head slightly to dial. Evelina let her fingers slip. The thick manila folder in her hands hit the marble floor with a loud, sharp smack. Papers spilled everywhere. The guard instinctively looked down at the mess. In that split second, Evelina flicked her wrist. A cloned RFID keycard slid from her sleeve into her palm. She swiped it against the main control sensor hidden on the inner side of the security desk. A crisp beep sounded. The turnstile light flashed green. The lock disengaged. Evelina dropped to her knees, frantically gathering the papers. "I am so sorry," she babbled, shoving the messy stack back into the folder. Before the guard could process the beep, she scrambled to her feet and squeezed through the open turnstile. "Hey! Stop right there!" the guard shouted, dropping the phone. Evelina did not look back. She dropped the timid posture instantly. Her spine straightened. She sprinted toward the VIP elevator bank reserved exclusively for top executives. She hit the call button. The digital panel flashed red. A robotic voice announced that dual biometric identification-fingerprint and iris scan-was required. Footsteps pounded against the marble behind her. Two more guards rounded the corner, yelling into their radios. Evelina did not flinch. She unzipped the side pocket of her backpack and pulled out a modified black smartphone. A data cable dangled from the bottom. She jammed the connector into the hidden maintenance port beneath the elevator panel. Lines of green code flooded the phone screen. Her heart beat a steady, calm rhythm against her ribs. One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. The red light on the panel snapped to green. The heavy metal doors slid open. Evelina stepped inside and slammed her hand against the button for the 99th floor. A guard lunged forward, his fingers scraping the edge of the closing doors. The metal sealed shut, cutting off his angry shout. The elevator shot upward. The sudden acceleration pressed Evelina into the floor. She took a deep breath, letting the cold air fill her lungs. She calculated her exact opening move. A soft chime signaled her arrival. The doors parted. The 99th floor was silent. Thick, sound-absorbing carpet covered the hallway. Doyle Fields, the executive assistant, stood near a massive oak door. He held a tablet, his brow furrowed. He snapped his head up at the sound of the elevator. He saw a girl in cheap clothes with a massive red scar on her face stepping onto the executive floor. His hand immediately flew to the earpiece hidden in his ear. Evelina moved faster. She reached into her pocket, pulled out a silver flash drive, and threw it hard. The drive hit Doyle squarely in the chest. He caught it on pure reflex. "That drive contains three fatal backdoors into the Montgomery Corporation firewall," Evelina said. Her voice was ice. Doyle froze. His hand hovered inches from his earpiece. The sheer authority in her tone paralyzed his trained response. Evelina did not waste the two seconds of his shock. She stepped around him, planted both hands flat against the heavy oak doors, and pushed them open. The CEO office was freezing. The air conditioning blasted against her skin. Sterling Montgomery IV sat behind a massive mahogany desk. He held a pen over a stack of documents. At the sound of the doors crashing open, he slowly raised his head. His eyes were the color of arctic ice. They locked onto Evelina. There was no rage in his expression, only a chilling, absolute control. "Doyle," Sterling said, his voice dropping the temperature in the room by another ten degrees. "Why is there an ugly stray cat in my office?" Evelina ignored the insult. She walked straight to the mahogany desk. She planted her hands on the polished wood and leaned forward, bringing her face close to his. "I am here to marry you," Evelina said.