
Marriage Of Convenience: Her Heart, His Obsession
[{EXCERPT}]
"Are you trying to seduce me?"
Alana froze.
Roman's gaze dragged slowly over her body, dark and deliberate.
"The contract explicitly states that you are not allowed to seduce me," he said calmly. "You did read it... didn't you?"
Confusion flickered across her face.
Then his eyes dropped again.
"You do realize," he added, voice lowering, "that you're half naked right now?"
Alana's breath caught as she looked down at herself.
.......
After escaping the suffocating grip of her abusive family, Alana believes she's finally free. But freedom comes at a price.
Roman Ashford is everything she should avoid. A cunning billionaire. New York's most eligible bachelor. A man whose name alone unsettles the entire business world.
One unexpected encounter pulls her into his orbit, binding her to him in a dangerous arrangement as his fake girlfriend for thirty-one days.
But just as she begins to find her footing, her past comes back to choke her.
To secure the inheritance her late father left behind before her mother claims it, Alana has only one option.
She needs a husband, and fast.
With time running out, she makes a reckless decision and turns to the one man she should never trust.
Will Roman accept her proposal...
or will stepping into his world be her utter ruin?
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Chapter 2
"You have to pick a date between tomorrow and next Rome," Ryan insisted as he scrolled through his phone.
"I already arranged a girl for you, she's blonde just the way you like them." he winked at Roman who simply gave him an uninterested look before facing his laptop screen.
"I don't have time for that, maybe next time," Roman replied flatly.
Ryan had been trying to presuade Roman to hit the club with him since he got to his office, but his efforts has been completely fruitless so far as Roman was not showing any interests.
"You said that the last time and the time before that," Ryan said slightly annoyed. "You're paranoid Roman and you need to clear your head. Sex is the only way to do that."
"I'm not paranoid." Roman replied, still typing away on his laptop without spearing Ryan a glance.
"You totally went out on my cousin yesterday. What would you call that?" Ryan said, reminding him of that incident.
Roman stopped typing for a moment before glancing at Ryan.
"Yesterday was different." He sighed.
He had never acted the way he did yesterday, before, It was just a wrong timing. He was already pissed at his Grandfather for setting him up for marriage without his consent, and he ended up taking out his anger on her.
Roman frowned, but the girl still had the nerves to call him stupid.
'How brave of her.' he thought to himself.
"Don't space out on me, Rome," Ryan called on his attention when he noticed that he had been staring into space for some time now without attention to what he was saying.
"If you have nothing important to say, can you leave my office. I'm trying to work here," Roman said calmly.
Ryan was about responding when Roman's secretary barged into the office, her face filled with terror. Roman's gaze immediately shifted to the secretary, and a small frown formed between his brows. "What happened?" he asked calmly, despite his growing concern.
The woman hurriedly approached his desk, her hands trembling as she held out her phone. "You need to see this. It's terrible, sir," she said, her voice quivering.
Roman took the phone from her, his eyes scanning the screen. His expression quickly morphed from concern to anger as he read the headline displayed on the phone
'Roman Ashford slaps a Young teenager in a Cafe.'
His jaw clenched tightly, as he read through the content of the story to a certain part.
He was well aware of the consequences such an incident could have on his reputation and the reputation of his company.
"What happened?" Ryan inquired, curious to know what had completely ruined his friend's mood.
"Who's behind this?" Roman seethed, his voice laced with fury.
He forcefully handed the phone back to the secretary, his eyes blazing with anger.
"Find out who is responsible for this defamation immediately. I want their names, and I want every detail on how this story came to be." Roman ordered.
The secretary nodded and left the office. Her own fear now mingled with a sense of urgency. She understood the gravity of the situation and knew that if Roman's name was tarnished, it could have far-reaching consequences for the company's success and reputation.
"This is serious, Rome," Ryan commented as he scrolled through the content Roman just read. "They blew the whole thing out of proportion."
Roman's jaw clenched even tighter. To think that they did not just stop by exergarating the incident yesterday but still went as far as relating this incident to what happened eight months ago.
"Let's go grab a drink," Roman said abruptly catching Ryan off guard.
He picked up his car keys and swiftly made his out of the office without waiting for Ryan's response.
When Roman stepped into the hallway, his presence seemed to radiate a dangerous aura that sent shivers down the spines of those who passed by.
Reaching the private elevator, Roman pressed the button. The doors swiftly opened and he stepped inside.
"If only she had apologized properly, this wouldn't have happened," he muttered, as the elevator desended. "This is all your fault."
...
Alana
'Gring, Gring, Gring!..'
Alana rolled and reached out her hand towards the alarm clock, successfully silencing its persistent ringing. With her eyes still closed, she lingered in the same lying position for a few more seconds, before finally getting out from bed.
Setting alarms was not a regular occurrence for her, but last night had been an exception. She had stayed up late, diligently working on a project assigned by her professor to earn some extra marks.
Alana glanced up at the clock, its display indicating that it was just five minutes to eight. She had managed to wake up in time, ensuring she had sufficient time before her ten o'clock class. She immediately went to freshen up and get ready...
In no time, she was already sitting on the swing outside, waiting for Mr Brandon to drop her off at school. While waiting, she decided to pass the time by playing some games. After all, time was on her side.
Not long into her game, she felt the presence of someone approaching her. She looked up to see Ryan heading towards her, wearing a simple shorts and a short-sleeved shirt with a few buttons undone, exposing his toned chest
Alana immediately diverted her eyes back to her phone. Her her thoughts immediately drifted to how distant Ryan had become since she arrived at the house. He hadn't talked to her since after that incident at the cafe.
She remembered their childhood, recalling the times they used to play together and how close they once were.
They were even mistaken as twins on many occasions due to their resemblance. They both had coffee brown hair and brown eyes. There was a huge contrast between those cherished memories and now. Well, she couldn't blame him; people change with time, and he was a grown man now.
"Hey."
Alana raised her eyes from her phone and met Ryan's face, who was already standing in front of her, nervously tousling his disheveled hair.
She could tell he wanted to ask her for a favor. Ryan had a habit of scratching his hair when he needed to ask for something difficult, a habit he had since they were kids.
"What time are you supposed to leave?" Ryan nervously asked.
"By nine-thirty. Why are you asking?" Alana asked casually, despite the offensive smell of alcohol coming from him. Sometimes she hated having such a sensitive nose.
"I was wondering if you could deliver something to a friend of mine for me," Ryan politely requested.
"Why don't you just deliver it yourself or send Mr. Brandon or any other worker?" Alana asked.
"Brandon is currently running an errand for me, and I don't trust anyone else with this particular task," Ryan replied.
"Then why not do it yourself?" Alana asked again.
"It's not a good idea for me to drive. I'm still feeling the effects from last night," Ryan admitted.
Alana's eyes narrowed. Ryan didn't look drunk to her. He still smelled like alcohol and a woman's perfume, but he didn't appear intoxicated.
"You can drive my car for the whole week if you do this for me," Ryan offered, desperate to persuade her.
"Fine. I accept," Alana finally agreed. There was no way she was saying no to an amazing offer like that.
Ryan smiled. "Great, Come with me," he said and started walking back to the house, with Alana trailing behind him.
...
Stopping the car in front of the silver gate, Alana glanced at the GPS to ensure she was at the right place. She turned off the engine and stepped out of the car, following Ryan's instructions. He had already informed the resident of her arrival.
The gates opened almost immediately, and she swiftly drove the car into the compound. After finding a suitable spot to park, she reached for the envelope that Ryan had entrusted her with, the one meant for the owner of the residence and stepped out of the car
She looked around the compound, admiring its breathtaking beauty. The grand and modern compound was a sight to behold. In the center, there stood a magnificent large fountain, surrounded by two equally impressive medium-sized fountains.
A man, whom she assumed to be the mansion's butler, was already waiting for her a short distance away from where she had parked.
"You must be Miss Gates. Mr. Gate informed us of your arrival. Right this way, Miss," the butler said, gesturing for her to follow him.
As they made their way towards the house, she couldn't help but notice that the workers kept staring at her and whispering amongst themselves.
Alana ran her fingers through her hair just in case she had dirt on her hair.
'Strange,' Alana thought to herself. 'Do I look like someone they've seen on TV before.'
She shook her head, ignoring their weird stares even as she and the butler entered the house.
"Please wait here," the butler gestured for her to sit. "I'll inform the master of your arrival." he said, Alana giving a small nod, before leaving.
Alana took that moment to observe the opulent interior of the mansion. She was more interested in the arts. Intricately carved woodwork adorned the walls, displaying the wealth and exquisite taste of the owner.
Her eyes widened when they landed on a particular landscape painting. Filled with intrigue, she moved closer to the painting. The last time she had seen it was at an art auction.
It was a painting she had made when she was thirteen, during a family vacation to the Philippines. She had spent two weeks diligently working on this painting, pouring her heart and soul into it. However, much to her dismay, after the vacation, her mother had sold it at an art auction.
Alana ran her fingers gently over the canvas, a bittersweet smile forming on her lips as she noticed her tiny signature nestled in the lower corner.
"I see you couldn't resist touching it for even two minutes," a voice teased from behind."
Startled by the sudden voice behind her, Alana spun around, her heart racing. Her face paled as she locked eyes with Roman, who stood just inches away.
"You," Alana blurted out, her voice trembling.
"Wow, I'm surprised you remembered the stupid blind man," Roman said calmly, though a hint of something else flickered in his eyes. "I see you came to make up for your mistake."
A wave of confusion washed over Alana.
'What was he doing here? And what did he mean?'
Realization struck her, causing her eyes to widen further.
Was this why Ryan sent her? Was it a setup? Even though Ryan was her cousin, that didn't mean she knew him well enough to trust him. Her head started racing with negative thoughts and various possibilities.
Roman took a step forward, causing Alana to stumble backward in response. Her back hit the wall, trapping her in place.
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8.7
I sat at a mahogany table in River Oaks, clutching the strap of a pilled black dress from a life I’d lost five years ago. I was an exile in a world of old money, just trying to survive a dinner party I didn't belong in.
Then the doors opened, and Baron Lowery walked in. He was no longer the boy I’d loved, but a powerful man with eyes like a storm front. When the host asked if we’d met, Baron didn't even blink.
"I don't know her," he said.
The erasure was a physical blow. His new girlfriend spent the night mocking my "quaint" legal aid work and calling me a washed-up gold digger. Baron didn't defend me; he watched my humiliation with a cold, predatory stillness. During a game of Truth or Dare, he stared me down, waiting for a confession. To protect his career and the secret of my father’s federal crimes, I looked him in the eye and told the ultimate lie: "No regrets."
He retaliated by pinning me against a concrete wall in a dark stairwell, crushing his mouth to mine in a kiss that felt like a punishment. He told me I wasn't worth the effort and left me. I retreated to my real life—a moldy trailer and a blackmailer named Harvey who was forcing me into a marriage to save my father from prison.
I thought I’d hit rock bottom until Baron’s silver Bentley pulled up to my slum. He didn't come to apologize. He flipped open a checkbook, scribbled fifty thousand dollars, and held it out like I was a common streetwalker.
"One night," he demanded. "Do whatever I say, and it's yours."
I looked at the man I’d sacrificed my entire soul for and realized he’d finally become the monster I'd tried to save him from. I shoved the check back in his face and ran into the rain, leaving the billionaire staring at the trailer park, unable to understand why the "gold digger" he hated so much wouldn't take his money.

9.1
Alysia lay on the freezing operating table, moments away from donating her kidney to her brother's fiancée.
But as the anesthesia set in, a violent shock tore through her brain, awakening agonizing memories of a thousand brutal deaths across a thousand past lifetimes.
She suddenly realized her family's true plan. Her brother and his fiancée weren't just taking her organ; they were secretly plotting to declare her mentally unfit post-surgery to steal her entire trust fund.
When Alysia abruptly stopped the procedure and exposed the fiancée's kidney failure as the result of severe drug abuse, her family's reaction was chilling.
Her father didn't care about the truth or the law. He ordered his bodyguards to lock Alysia up until she agreed to the surgery, while her brother threatened to freeze her assets and seize her late mother's penthouse.
"You have no heart, Alysia. You don't deserve the Kent name," her aunt spat in disgust.
For lifetimes, she had kept her head down, taking the blame and sacrificing everything for a family that viewed her as nothing more than a disposable blood bag and a financial pawn.
The resignation that had clouded her eyes for so long vanished, replaced by the absolute, zero-degree cold of a glacier.
Ripping the IV from her hand and leaving her family in stunned silence, Alysia walked straight out of the hospital.
She had exactly forty-six hours to find a husband to secure her inheritance, and she knew exactly which ruthless billionaire CEO to target to help her burn the Kent family to the ground.

9.0
I was the poor girl from Appalachia the wealthy Copeland family adopted out of "charity," bringing me to a life of New York luxury I could never have imagined.
But it was all a lie. I wasn't their daughter. I was a living, breathing blood bank for their precious child, Bridgette, whose life had been secretly saved by my bone marrow.
Once I was no longer useful, they decided to throw me away. On the night of Bridgette's lavish engagement party, she and her fiancé framed me. They drugged my water, lured me to a hotel suite, and tore my designer gown to stage a scene.
Her fiancé stood over me, his face twisted in disgust. "Did you really think spreading your legs would make me forget where you came from? You're just a trashy hillbilly."
Outside on Fifth Avenue, my adoptive parents screamed at me in front of the press, calling me a disgrace. My sister wept, accusing me of trying to destroy her perfect life out of jealousy.
They expected me to crumble, to become the pathetic scandal they could discard like garbage. They thought they were dealing with a scared, helpless girl from the mountains.
But they made a fatal mistake. The soul of that poor girl was already gone. And I, the top-tier operative known as Glacier, had just woken up in her body.

8.3
Sandra was a mistress: a temporary escape for billionaire David Kingsley.
But in the shadows of his study, "temporary" turned into a dangerous addiction.
When David brutally casts her back into the poverty she fought to escape, Sandra plays her final card: a lie about a pregnancy to keep him tied to her.
The lie becomes a terrifying reality just as David announces his "perfect" life is expanding with a child of his own.
Now, Sandra isn't just a discarded mistress; she's a woman with a secret that could topple an empire.
How far will a woman go when she has nothing left to lose but the life growing inside her?

9.0
I married the CEO of the powerful Powers Corporation, and everyone saw me as the perfect trophy wife. They assumed my days were filled with nothing but shopping on Fifth Avenue.
But this prestigious family was a house of cards. My husband's siblings were spoiled, useless children threatening to bring the entire empire down with their stupidity.
His brother, Braden, was a parasite who mistook his trust fund for "freedom." His sister, Chelsea, was a brainless socialite being used as a pawn in a public scandal by a con artist.
Even the family's ruthless Chief of Staff, a man meant to be their shield, looked at me with utter contempt, viewing me as just another problem to be managed.
They all saw a fragile doll. They had no idea that their weakness was an insult to the family name, and I was not going to stand for it.
It was time to discipline the children. The first lesson began at 3,000 feet, when I kicked my brother-in-law out of a plane mid-flight. His rehabilitation—and my takeover of this family—had just begun.

8.9
Aubree Hamilton was the top-tier executive assistant to Wall Street's most ruthless titan, Beck Franco. A month ago, she made a catastrophic mistake and spent the night in his bed.
Thinking she had erased the mistake with a morning-after pill, she panicked upon his return and lied about being engaged to push him away.
But Beck, a man who despised disloyalty above all else, immediately suspended her and ordered her escorted out of the building. Her nightmare only escalated when her toxic ex-boyfriend attacked her on the street, tearing her purse open and exposing the empty morning-after pill box to the public—and to Beck, who was watching from his penthouse. After having his security rescue her, Beck trapped her in his car, ruthlessly tearing apart her fake engagement. Later in her apartment, the suffocating tension between them almost ignited into a kiss, but a violent wave of nausea suddenly hit Aubree.
She shoved him away with all her strength and violently threw up in the bathroom.
Beck took it as the ultimate physical disgust. He walked out, deeply humiliated and dangerously obsessed, unleashing his resources to investigate her every move.
Left alone and trembling, Aubree finally checked the crushed white box. The pill she took had expired a month ago.
Staring at the two bright pink lines on the pregnancy test, she made a desperate vow: Beck Franco could never know she was carrying his child, and she had to disappear before he found out.