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His Accidental Wife Is A Secret Tycoon Novel Cover

His Accidental Wife Is A Secret Tycoon

Jaden's abusive foster parents sold her into marriage to a 62-year-old criminal to settle gambling debts. But a lobby mix-up makes her sign the certificate with the wrong man: Constantine Kensington, the ruthless billionaire CEO who assumes she's a gold-digging scammer who trapped him on purpose. Instead of an annulment, he drags her into his manor, cuts her credit, and throws a humiliating internship at her, demanding she follow his rules. He sees a desperate orphan at his mercy. What he doesn't know: she's "King," the legendary dark web hacker who just shorted a global conglomerate for five billion from his guest room. She signs his ten-million-dollar divorce payoff with a smirk, happy to use his title as her invisible shield.
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Chapter 2

Jaden walked down the concrete steps of City Hall. Her heavy combat boots splashed into a puddle, sending dirty water flying across the pavement.

A sharp autumn wind whipped down the street. She shivered, zipping her leather jacket all the way up to her chin.

Her phone erupted in her pocket. The shrill ringtone sliced through the heavy metal still playing in her ears.

She stopped on the sidewalk and pulled it out. Tammy.

Jaden’s expression went flat and cold. She hit the green button. Before she could even breathe, Tammy’s screeching voice exploded through the speaker.

“Where the hell are you?!” Tammy screamed. “Gus had a heart attack! He’s in the ICU! He never even made it to City Hall!”

Jaden’s fingers dug into the plastic case of her phone. Her knuckles turned white. A cold weight dropped into her stomach.

“If Gus didn’t show up,” Jaden interrupted, her voice dangerously quiet, “then who the hell did I just sign papers with?”

Dead silence on the other end. Then, Tammy shrieked louder. “What did you do?! You stupid, worthless—”

Jaden pressed the red button. The noise died instantly.

She stood frozen in the middle of the crowded sidewalk. Her heart slammed against her ribs. She shoved her hand deep into her jacket pocket and pulled out the crumpled marriage certificate.

The sunlight broke through the gray clouds, hitting the white paper.

Jaden stared at the spouse line.

Constantine Kensington.

The bold black letters seemed to burn. Her vision sharpened, and for a full three seconds, she forgot to breathe.

A delivery guy on a bicycle swerved past her, clipping her elbow. “Watch it, bitch!” he yelled.

The hit snapped Jaden back. She ground her teeth together. She pulled up an encrypted browser on her phone and typed in the name.

A photo loaded instantly. CEO of Kensington Group. Cold eyes. Sharp jawline. The exact same arrogant bastard who just bumped her shoulder.

Jaden traced the edge of the paper with her thumb. A dark, humorless laugh escaped her throat. This was the most absurd mistake of her life.

Her phone buzzed. A text message from Burt.

Where the hell are you?! Gus never showed up! If you screwed this up, you’re dead to us!

Jaden stared at the screen. She opened a second browser window and ran a deep search on Gus Miller. Her fingers moved fast. Within seconds, she had cracked his encrypted medical records. No cardiac arrest. He was hiding in the ICU under a fake name because the IRS had flagged his offshore shell companies for massive tax evasion.

She closed the browser. Her eyes narrowed. The Hicks family had tried to sell her to a convicted criminal.

A hot, violent energy surged through her veins.

She opened her contacts and dialed a heavily encrypted line.

“Ernest,” Jaden said. Her voice was absolute zero.

“Young King,” Ernest replied instantly, his tone reverent and ironclad.

“I need eight hundred and eighty thousand dollars in untraceable liquid funds. Transfer it from our dummy account to Burt Hicks’s private checking account. Now. This is my final payout to sever all ties.”

“Understood,” Ernest said. “Do you need a cleanup crew? I can send men to handle the problem.”

“No,” Jaden said flatly. “This is my final transaction with them. I’m not dirtying my hands with trash.”

She hung up. She folded the marriage certificate with precise, sharp movements and shoved it deep into her pocket.

She stepped to the edge of the curb and threw her arm up. A yellow cab slammed on its brakes in front of her.

The driver rolled down the window. “Where to?” he asked, then flinched. The girl standing there radiated pure murder.

Jaden pulled open the back door and slid onto the cracked vinyl seat.

“Queens,” she said. She rattled off the address of the Hicks’ rundown townhouse. Then she pulled out her phone and typed a quick message to Ernest: Have my equipment bag ready at the drop point on 7th and Main. I’ll pick it up after I’m done.

The cab accelerated, throwing her back against the seat. Jaden crossed her arms over her chest and closed her eyes. Her muscles coiled tight. She was going to rip their pathetic lies apart.

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