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Flash Marriage To My Ruthless Professor Novel Cover

Flash Marriage To My Ruthless Professor

I signed a prenuptial agreement with a cold-blooded Wall Street predator just to unlock my trust fund and fight my greedy stepmother. We were nothing more than legal roommates bound by a strict three-year contract. But to survive the corporate war at my family's company, I skipped my mandatory university finance class and paid a guy to answer the roll call for me. The stand-in was immediately caught and kicked out by the notoriously ruthless new professor. That night at dinner, I complained to my contract husband about the professor. "He's an unreasonable, arrogant dictator who gets off on torturing his students," I complained bitterly. My husband just calmly cut my steak and listened as I bragged about how I was going to fake-cry and manipulate the professor the next morning. I even rushed to the faculty office the next day and performed a desperate, tearful apology to an elderly man I assumed was the tyrant. I thought I had perfectly balanced my corporate war and my academic life. I thought I had fooled everyone. But when I confidently sat in the front row of the massive lecture hall, the heavy wooden doors pushed open. The terrifying new professor walked onto the podium and aggressively wrote his name on the chalkboard: Elliot Dillard. It was my contract husband. He looked down at me with cold, merciless authority, knowing every single lie I had told, and slowly called my name.
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Chapter 2

Allison pushed through the heavy revolving glass doors of the Lee Group's Manhattan headquarters.

She brought a rush of freezing December air into the lobby with her.

She marched straight toward the elevator banks.

A burly security guard stepped into her path, holding up a thick hand.

"Excuse me, miss. I need to see your executive appointment record," the guard said, blocking her way.

Allison stopped. She looked him dead in the eye.

"My name is Allison Lee," she said, her voice dripping with ice. "I am the first-in-line heir to the Edmond Lee estate."

The receptionist behind the massive marble desk heard her.

The woman's face paled. She immediately picked up the phone and dialed the direct internal line to the top-floor executive suite.

A minute later, the private executive elevator chimed. The polished steel doors slid open.

Judd walked out.

He was wearing an incredibly expensive Tom Ford suit, but the tailoring was wrong. It bunched at his shoulders, making him look like a child playing dress-up in a dead man's clothes.

Cheryl followed closely behind him.

Her sharp red stiletto heels clicked aggressively against the marble floor. Her eyes locked onto Allison, filled with deep contempt and heavy suspicion.

Judd stopped a few feet away. He crossed his arms and let out a loud, arrogant laugh.

"You're wasting your time, Allison," Judd sneered. "You've already been permanently kicked out by the family trust committee. You have nothing."

Cheryl stepped forward. She wore a fake, sympathetic smile that made Allison's stomach churn.

Cheryl reached into her designer handbag and pulled out a piece of paper.

She held it out to Allison. It was a check for fifty thousand dollars.

"Take this, sweetie," Cheryl said, her tone dripping with poison. "Consider it charity. Go buy yourself something nice and leave the adults to run the business."

Allison didn't even look at the check.

She reached into her tote bag and pulled out a thick, folded document. It bore the heavy, raised steel seal of the New York City Hall.

She slammed the photocopy of her marriage certificate down onto the receptionist's marble desk.

The slap of the paper echoed loudly across the quiet lobby.

Judd's eyes darted to the document.

He read the names. He read the effective date stamped clearly at the top. It was dated this very morning.

The color instantly drained from Judd's face. His skin turned the color of old ash. He stumbled backward, his heel catching on the marble floor.

Cheryl snatched the document off the desk.

She held it close to her face. Her eyes darted back and forth across the page. She read it three times, desperately searching for any sign of forgery.

Allison took a step forward. Her voice rang out, loud and clear.

"According to the hidden clause in my father's will addendum," Allison recited perfectly from memory, "upon my legal marriage, fifty percent of the trust's liquid assets are immediately unlocked and placed under my direct control."

Wall Street executives and junior analysts walking through the lobby stopped in their tracks.

They turned their heads, openly watching this brutal display of corporate family warfare.

Judd clenched his fists. The veins in his neck bulged.

"You're lying!" Judd shouted, pointing a shaking finger at her. "You just found some homeless bum on the street and paid him to fake a marriage for the money!"

The heavy glass doors of the lobby pushed open again.

Martin Croft walked in. He carried a massive leather briefcase stuffed with asset division demands.

Martin walked straight to the marble desk.

"I assure you, Mr. Lee," Martin said, his voice carrying the heavy weight of legal authority. "According to the agreement, Mr. Elliot Dillard's comprehensive financial background check will be submitted to the trust committee within seventy-two hours of the marriage. We have absolute confidence he will exceed all standards. Right now, however, what you need to sign is the preliminary fund release agreement based strictly on the factual occurrence of the marriage."

Cheryl let out a sharp gasp of pure rage.

She gripped the fifty-thousand-dollar check in her hands and ripped it into tiny, jagged pieces. She threw the scraps onto the floor.

Allison stepped right into Judd's personal space.

"Sign the release forms," Allison demanded, her voice low and lethal. "Release my half of the liquid funds. Right now."

Judd backed away, sweating profusely.

"No," Judd stammered. "I need the legal department to run a full background check on this guy. It will take at least a month."

Allison didn't blink. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone.

"Fine," Allison said. "Then I will call the Securities and Exchange Commission right now. I will report the highly irregular fund transfers you attempted to make twenty minutes ago."

Cheryl's eyes widened in sheer panic.

She lunged forward and grabbed Judd's wrist. Her perfectly manicured nails dug into his skin. She shot him a terrifying look, silently ordering him to surrender before he ruined everything.

Judd swallowed hard. His chest heaved.

He humiliatingly reached out and took the Montblanc pen that Martin offered him.

His hand shook as he signed the fund release agreement. He pressed down so hard that the metal nib nearly tore straight through the thick paper.

Allison reached out and smoothly pulled the document out from under his hand.

She flicked the edge of the paper with her fingernail, knocking off an invisible speck of dust. She offered him a cold, victorious smile.

"This is just half the money, Judd," Allison warned, her eyes turning dark. "I am coming for absolute controlling power of this company. Count on it."

Judd glared at her back, his eyes burning with pure hatred. He swore under his breath that he would dig up every single dirty secret about her cheap new husband.

Allison turned on her heel and walked out of the building.

She stepped onto the sidewalk and took a deep breath of the freezing, liberating Manhattan air. Her lungs expanded with the taste of victory.

Suddenly, her phone started ringing violently in her hand.

She looked at the screen. It was her college roommate, Zoe.

Allison swiped to answer. Zoe's voice blasted through the speaker, screaming about a disgusting new problem involving Trevor. Allison's grip on the phone tightened, her momentary peace shattered.

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