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Flash Marriage To The Billionaire CEO  Novel Cover

Flash Marriage To The Billionaire CEO

She wanted stability. She found Adrian Blackwell—dominant, dangerous, and determined to make her his. After catching her boyfriend of three years cheating, Elena Carter swore never to fall in love again. On a reckless whim, she walked into a blind date arranged by her family—and impulsively proposed a flash marriage. All she wanted was a quiet, dependable man. What she got was Adrian Blackwell—a ruthless billionaire known for crushing rivals with a single glance. Cold to the world, dangerously charming behind closed doors, Adrian doesn’t ask. He takes. From the moment she slips on his ring, Adrian makes one thing clear: “You’re mine, Elena. No man touches what belongs to me.” But as whispers of his past lovers surface, Elena’s heart twists with emotions she swore she’d buried—jealousy, heartbreak… longing. Then, a brutal accident unearths a forgotten memory: a reckless one-night stand years ago… with the same face as her husband’s. Everything falls into place. Every twist, every detour— It was always Adrian.
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Chapter 7

Elana had barely slept a wink.

The morning sunlight streamed across the luxurious bedroom, but the brightness did nothing to ease the knot in her stomach. She rolled over, glaring at the spot beside her — cold and empty. Adrian was already gone. Again.

She pushed the sheets aside and padded barefoot to the window. Down below, a few black-suited men were unloading crates from a truck — bodyguards, assistants, drivers. Always moving. Always working. Adrian Blackwell never stopped, and now she was married to that relentless machine.

Elana groaned, raking a hand through her tangled hair. What kind of husband vanishes at dawn without even leaving a note?

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand.

Unknown number: Check the morning news, Mrs. Blackwell. Your husband’s making headlines again.

Elana’s eyes narrowed. She grabbed the remote and flipped on the giant flat-screen mounted opposite the bed. A slick news anchor’s voice filled the room.

> “—spotted last night outside the Blackwell Group headquarters. Adrian Blackwell, the elusive CEO, was seen leaving with an unidentified woman. Speculation suggests this woman could be an old flame—”

The footage rolled: Adrian stepping out of his Bentley, a woman in a scarlet dress following close behind, almost brushing his arm. The camera flash caught Adrian’s stone-cold face as he ignored the paparazzi — but the woman had smiled as if she wanted to be seen.

Elana felt her jaw tighten. Why won't they leave her husband alone, huh?

She didn’t waste time dressing up — just pulled on a pair of ripped jeans and a white T-shirt, tied her hair into a messy ponytail, and stormed out of the room.

Downstairs, the Blackwell estate was bustling. A few staff members froze when they saw her barreling through, but no one dared to speak. Elana grabbed her car keys from the marble counter.

“Mrs. Blackwell,” one of the butlers began carefully, “should I inform Mr. Blackwell you’re—”

“Don’t bother,” she snapped, shoving the door open. “I’ll inform him myself.”

>>>>>>

The elevator doors to Adrian’s top-floor office opened with a soft chime. Elana marched in without knocking.

Adrian was seated behind his massive glass desk, sleeves rolled to his elbows, signing documents as if the world outside didn’t exist.

He didn’t look up. “You’re here earlier than I expected.”

Her lips curled. “Oh? Were you expecting me at all?”

Adrian finally glanced up, those gray eyes cool and unreadable. “You’re upset.”

“Upset?” Elana slapped her phone down on the desk, replaying the news clip at full volume. “Try furious. Who is she, Adrian?”

His expression didn’t change. “Someone unimportant.”

“Oh really?” She crossed her arms, voice rising. “Because she didn’t look unimportant when she was glued to your side. What’s wrong, Mr. Blackwell? Get bored of your wife already?”

The corner of his mouth twitched — not in amusement, but warning. “Careful, Elena.”

Most people would’ve shut up at that tone. But Elena wasn’t most people. She leaned across the desk, close enough to see the flecks of silver in his eyes. “No. You be careful. Because if you think I’m the type to sit at home smiling while you parade around with your ex—”

“Ex?” Adrian’s brow lifted. “So that’s what this is about. Victoria.”

“Elena,” a familiar feminine voice purred from the doorway. “It’s rude to talk about someone when they’re standing right here.”

Elena spun around. Standing there in six-inch heels and designer silk was the same scarlet-dressed woman from the news clip — flawless makeup, lips curved in a smug smile.

“Victoria,” Adrian said flatly, leaning back in his chair. “You shouldn’t be here.”

Victoria ignored him, stepping closer. “I came to congratulate the happy couple. Though honestly, Adrian… marriage? To her? You can’t be serious.”

Elena’s hands curled into fists. “Excuse me?”

Victoria’s gaze swept over Elena from head to toe, lingering on the T-shirt and ripped jeans. “I’m just saying… you could’ve done better.”

“Funny,” Elena shot back with a saccharine smile, “because he clearly did.”

Adrian pinched the bridge of his nose. “Victoria, leave. Now.”

But Victoria just tilted her head toward him, voice dripping sweetness. “You’ll get tired of this little act soon enough, Adrian. And when you do, I’ll be waiting.”

That was it.

Before Adrian could react, Elena marched over, grabbed him by the collar, and kissed him hard. Not a polite kiss — a full, possessive, stop-breathing kind of kiss that made Adrian’s chair scrape back against the floor.

When she finally pulled away, her eyes blazed at Victoria. “Did that look fake to you?” she snapped. “Because it sure didn’t feel fake to me.”

Adrian was still staring at her, shock flickering across his usually calm features — but before he could speak, Elena turned toward the door.

“Bodyguards!” she barked.

Two men appeared instantly.

“Escort this woman out before I throw her off the balcony myself.”

Victoria’s smirk faltered as the guards took her by the arms. “This isn’t over, Elena!” she shouted as she was dragged from the office. “He’s not the type to stay with one woman!”

Elena glared after her, chest heaving, then slammed the door shut herself.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Adrian rose slowly, smoothing his collar where she’d gripped it. His gray eyes fixed on her, sharp and unreadable. “Are you jealous, Mrs. Blackwell?”

Elena crossed her arms, chin up. “Jealous? Please. I’m just naturally protecting what’s mine. Since you don't know how to protect yourself and since you are about to turn yourself to a community husband.”

He stepped closer, voice dropping low. “Yours?”

“Yes, mine,” she said grumpily, refusing to meet his gaze. “Got a problem with that?”

Adrian chuckled softly — a rare, dangerous sound — and before Elena could move, he caught her wrist, pulling her close until their noses almost touched.

“Not at all,” he murmured. “In fact… I think I like it. Alot.”

Her breath hitched, but she shoved him away before her heart could betray her. “Good. Then stay where I can see you, Mr. Blackwell. No more surprise headlines.”

She spun on her heel and stormed toward the door, leaving Adrian staring after her with an expression somewhere between admiration and intrigue.

As the door slammed shut, Adrian sank back into his chair, lips curving slightly. For the first time in years, someone had thrown him off balance — and he wasn’t sure he hated it.

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