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One Year with the Billionaire. Novel Cover

One Year with the Billionaire.

Pastry chef Olivia Chen is drowning in debt when billionaire Ashton Blackwell makes her an offer: marry him for one year to secure his inheritance, and he'll pay off everything plus give her a million dollars. No love, just business. But fake vows become real feelings, and when Ashton's vengeful ex returns with devastating family secrets, Olivia must choose between protecting the man she's fallen for and exposing the truth that could destroy him. In a world of lies and betrayal, their contract marriage might be the only real thing worth fighting for.
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Chapter 4

Ashton's Pov 

Eleanor's mansion in Pacific Heights was where I'd spent every Sunday dinner since I was seven years old. The place still smelled like her lavender perfume and old money.

Olivia sat beside me in the car, fidgeting with the engagement ring I'd given her an hour ago. Five carats, emerald cut, worth more than most people's houses. She wore it like a shackle.

"Stop playing with it. You're supposed to love it."

"I'm supposed to love you too, but we both know that's theater." She dropped her hand. "How long is this dinner going to take?"

"However long Eleanor wants. She's eighty-six and terrifying. You smile, agree with her, and let her think this is real."

"What if she asks how we fell in love? We met three days ago when you destroyed my business."

"We met three days ago and felt an instant connection. The catering disaster became our story, how conflict revealed compatibility." I'd rehearsed this. "Love at first fight. Eleanor will eat that up."

"You're disturbingly good at lying."

"I'm good at strategy. There's a difference." I pulled up to the mansion. "Remember, she's sharp. One inconsistency and she'll know."

The front door opened before we reached it. Eleanor stood there in a purple dress, her eyes bright with curiosity.

"Ashton, darling!" She kissed both my cheeks, then turned to Olivia. "And the infamous Olivia Chen. Let me see that ring."

Olivia extended her hand. Eleanor examined the ring, then smiled.

"He chose well. His grandfather gave me a similar one." She linked arms with Olivia. "Come, dear. Let's leave Ashton to his brandy. I want to hear everything about how my impossible grandson fell in love."

I watched them disappear into the sitting room. This was the real test.

****************

Olivia's Pov 

Eleanor's sitting room was full of antiques and family photos. I spotted a young Ashton in several frames, smiling, open, nothing like the cold man I'd signed a contract with.

"Sit, dear. Would you like tea? Wine? Something stronger?" Eleanor poured herself sherry.

"Tea is fine, thank you."

She prepared it herself, which surprised me. "So. Tell me the truth. Did my grandson bully you into this?"

My hand froze reaching for the cup. "What?"

"Ashton thinks he's subtle, but I raised him. I know when he's maneuvering." She sat across from me. "He needs a wife to secure his inheritance. You need money. He made you an offer. Am I close?"

My heart pounded. "Mrs. Blackwell-"

"Eleanor, please. And relax. I'm not going to expose you." She sipped her sherry. "I'm the one who suggested you, remember? I wanted to see if he'd be smart enough to pursue it."

"You... wanted this?"

"I wanted him to choose someone real. Someone who'd challenge him instead of worshiping him." She set down her glass. "Every woman he's dated wanted the Blackwell name. You're the first one who told him to shove it."

I laughed despite myself. "I didn't phrase it exactly like that."

"Close enough. You saw him as a person, not a bank account. That's rare." She leaned forward. "So here's what I need to know. Can you be what he needs?"

"I don't understand."

"Ashton has been cold and controlled since Victoria Sterling broke his heart five years ago. He buried himself in work and forgot how to be human." Eleanor's expression softened. "I don't care if this marriage is real or fake. I care if you can remind him that he's more than his company. Can you do that?"

"I don't know. I barely know him."

"You knew him well enough to call him out in a room full of people who've been kissing his ass for years." She smiled. "That takes either stupidity or courage. You don't strike me as stupid."

"I was desperate and angry. Not brave."

"They're often the same thing." She refilled her sherry. "I'm going to tell you something I've never told Ashton. His mother-my daughter-in-law-took her own life when he was twelve."

The words hit me like ice water. "Oh my God."

"The family said it was an accident. But I knew. She'd been miserable for years, married to my son James who cared more about quarterly earnings than his own wife." Eleanor's voice cracked. "I watched Ashton become exactly like his father. Cold. Distant. Married to his work. And I can't watch him end up alone and broken like her."

"Eleanor, I'm so sorry, but I can't fix him. This is just a contract."

"Contracts can become real if you let them." She met my eyes. "One year is enough time to show someone there's another way to live. Whether you take that opportunity is up to you."

The door opened. Ashton stepped in, his face carefully neutral. "Am I interrupting?"

"Not at all. Olivia and I were just getting acquainted." Eleanor stood. "Dinner is ready. James is already complaining that we're keeping him waiting."

"Father's here?" Ashton's jaw tightened.

"Of course. He needs to meet his future daughter-in-law." Eleanor swept past him. "Try to be civil, both of you."

Ashton offered me his arm. "How bad was it?"

"She knows."

"Knows what?"

"That this is an arrangement. She orchestrated it." I kept my voice low. "Why didn't you tell me your mother committed suicide?"

His entire body went rigid. "That's not dinner conversation."

"It's not any conversation apparently. You let me walk in there blind."

"My mother's death has nothing to do with our contract." His voice was ice.

"It has everything to do with why you can't trust anyone." I pulled my arm free. "I'm not going into dinner with more secrets. Either tell me the truth or I walk."

"You signed a contract."

"Sue me. I'm already broke." I headed for the door.

"Wait." The word stopped me. "You're right. I should have told you. My mother-Catherine-she was unhappy. My father neglected her for work. One night when I was twelve, she took pills. They called it an accidental overdose, but I found her note."

I turned back. His face was blank, but his hands were clenched.

"What did it say?"

"That she was sorry. That being a Blackwell wife had killed who she used to be. That she hoped I'd be stronger than my father." He met my eyes. "I burned it. No one else knows it existed."

"Ashton-"

"Don't. I don't need pity. I need you to understand that this family destroys people who aren't strong enough. Eleanor thinks you can handle it. I'm not convinced."

"Good. I'm not convinced either." I straightened my shoulders. "But I signed the contract. So let's go meet your father and pretend we're madly in love."

He almost smiled. "You're tougher than you look."

"I've survived worse than a dinner party."

"You haven't met my father yet."

The dining room was formal. James Blackwell sat at the head of the table, reading a financial report. He didn't look up when we entered.

"Father, this is Olivia Chen. My fiancée." Ashton pulled out my chair.

James finally looked up. His eyes were the same shade as Ashton's but completely empty of warmth. "The caterer."

"Pastry chef," I corrected. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Blackwell."

"Is it?" He set down his report. "Ashton, I expected better judgment from you. This is obviously a ploy to satisfy the inheritance clause."

"James, don't start." Eleanor took her seat. "They're in love. Anyone can see it."

"Anyone can see it's convenient timing." James turned to me. "How much is he paying you?"

Ashton's hand found mine under the table, squeezing. Warning me.

"He's not paying me anything," I said carefully. "I love your son."

"You love a man you met three days ago? How financially fortunate for you." James smiled without humor. "Let me be clear, Miss Chen. I don't care what arrangement you've made with my son. But if you embarrass this family or damage Blackwell Industries' reputation, I will destroy you. Are we understood?"

The room went silent. Eleanor looked furious. Ashton's hand tightened on mine.

I stood up slowly. "Mr. Blackwell, I understand perfectly. You're a bully who uses money as a weapon because you don't know how to connect with people like a human being. I've met men like you before. They die alone, wondering why no one came to their funeral."

I grabbed my purse. "Ashton, take me home. I'm done being insulted by your family."

I made it to the foyer before Ashton caught up. "Olivia, wait-"

"That man is a monster. How did you turn out even remotely decent?" I was shaking.

"I didn't. You just met the best parts." He grabbed his keys. "But you were magnificent. Even Eleanor looked impressed."

"I wasn't performing. I meant every word."

"I know. That's what made it perfect." He opened the door. "Come on. Let's get out of here before my father has a stroke."

We were in the car when Eleanor appeared at the driver's window, tapping. Ashton rolled it down.

"That," Eleanor said, grinning, "was the best dinner this family has had in twenty years. Olivia, dear, you're going to fit in perfectly."

She walked back inside, leaving us in stunned silence.

"Did your grandmother just approve of me telling off your father?"

Ashton started the engine, and for the first time since I met him, he laughed. "Welcome to the Blackwell family, Olivia. It only gets worse from here."

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