The Billoniare's Fake Husband
Tyler has been through more than most, and life has never given him a real break. All he wants is to finish his job and figure things out-but one wild trip to Vegas changes everything. He wakes up married to Quin McKenzie, the same man who made his life miserable years back and probably doesn't remember.
Quin is wealthy, controlling, and desperate to keep his inheritance, so he offers Tyler a deal: stay married until he clicks thirty and get paid. Tyler doesn't trust him, but he needs the money Quin was offering, so he agrees.
What starts as a fake marriage soon turns into something messy and real. Feelings begin to get involved and walls start to crack. Suddenly Tyler is risking his heart for a man he swore to hate.
Now, with secrets coming out and time running out, they both have to decide-is this just a mistake... or something worth fighting for?
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Chapter 1
Tyler's pov
"You ungrateful piece of shit," my mom yelled through the phone. "After everything I've done for you, Tyler. I even decided to keep you instead of flushing you out when I had the opportunity to."
It was nothing new, but the story was always new.
"I told you I don't have that kind of money," I said calmly.
"You told me you were working, didn't they pay you?" she asked, anger lacing her tone.
"Even if they did, it's not much," I replied, frustration edging into my voice.
"I don't care. Find it. You have seven months to come up with the money and send it. That's the least you can do for your mother."
She ended the call.
I hated my life.
Ever since my dad died of liver cancer when I was twelve, my mom had spiraled-drinking, gambling, constantly taking out loans she couldn't pay back, then guilt-tripping me into covering them. She also went as far as making her boyfriends touch me so they could pay her. In high school I survived on scholarships and had to go through different stages of bullying. And I also had to work to pay my tuition through college.
Why give birth to me only to hate me this much?
I kept telling myself she just missed her husband, excusing her terrible behavior with my father's death.
I had just finished a contracted editing job for a renowned publishing company in New York and needed a breather, so I took a trip to Vegas. Only for my mother to call a few hours after my arrival and tell me she'd taken out a ten-million-dollar loan-and expected me to pay it back.
How?
Where was I supposed to get that kind of money?
How did she even owe that much?
Why me?
Fuck.
I slammed my phone down on the receptionist counter harder than I meant to. I hoped the screen didn't crack, but I didn't bother checking.
"Sorry." I said to the lady behind the counter and headed to the bar.
Kingston Hotel was luxurious-the kind of place only rich people frequented. I wasn't rich enough to be here, but I wanted to enjoy a taste of what little I'd earned.
When I got to the bar area, they were having some sort of masked party. I looked around and hesitated for a bit.
"Fuck it, I deserve some fun too." I muttered to myself and walked to the huge guy giving out masks.
"Do I have to pay for that?" I whispered to the guy.
"Nah, it's free." His old voice rumbled.
I collected a brown mask to match the colour of my eyes which were the colour of hazelnut, not that anyone would notice.
A slow romantic song was on and a few people were on the dance floor.
I went straight to the bartender and ordered three shots of tequila and downed all of them like I'd been thirsty for days. The burn made me feel better in a way I couldn't explain.
"Two more, please," I said to the bartender.
He looked at me like I had something on my face, which I obviously did. Then he moved to fill the order. I ignored him.
I drank the first shot and was about to do the same with the second when I felt a presence looming beside me. I lifted my head...
And my eyes met my worst nightmare.
Quin fucking McKenzie.
The boy who'd made my high school years a living hell.
"Mind if I join you?" he asked, already sitting down on the stool beside me.
Did he not recognize me or something? I didn't think I'd changed that much. Oh I forgot, I had contacts on and I was wearing a mask. But why wasn't he wearing one?
Cocky much. He always likes to feel above the law.
"Uh... yeah. Yes, you can," I replied.
He sat down and ordered a drink. He took a sip, set the glass down, and an evil smirk spread across his face.
"Do I get the pleasure of knowing your name?" he said, turning on his seat to face me, hand stretched out. "no pressure, just want to keep the conversation going"
No way in hell was he nice, maybe it was all pretence.
I might have zoned out for a second. Because his hand was waving in front of me. "Are you ok?" He asked and took another slow sip of his drink.
"uhh, yeah I'm ok" I said
"You're a cute one ain't you ?" he chuckled.
I ignored his snack comments. I stretched my hands out to him.
"Ryan. My name is Ryan Grey."
He took my hand and kissed it. Then looked at me.
"I want you in my bed tonight Ryan. How does that sound?"
I was dumbfounded. Nothing was coming from my mouth. Never in a million years would I believe Quin Mackenzie was into guys or be this blunt about it, for someone who bullied me for being gay.
"You're staring like you want me to take you here right now. You look like you wouldn't mind though."
Heat crawled from nowhere under my skin. Was this normal? I hate this guy with my entire being. I didn't expect the next words that left my mouth.
"Fuck you," I spat.
"Wouldn't you love that?" he shot back. "You're probably dying to be fucked by me. I'm obviously irresistible."
"Go find someone else to be your sex toy" I said.
My voice came out louder than I meant it to.
I glanced around the bar, making sure I hadn't drawn attention. I didn't trust these rich brats.
He leaned in closer and my heart began to race faster than it ever has. Was he pretending not to know me?
"You can't be so sure you don't want this," he said calmly. "How about we play a little game?"
" You'll probably cheat your way to the top" I scoffed, grabbing my phone from the bar's counter to leave. "No, thank you."
His words were slowly getting to me or maybe it was the alcohol. But I felt my dick twitch and itching to be touched, and my body hot like hell.
"Dont be a coward," he said, his voice edged with something dark.
That was how he played-made you feel small, backed you into a corner, then crushed you, typical Quin. I turned to really look at him. He lifted his glass and drank, and for a split second, I imagined ripping his throat out as he swallowed.
Fuck it.
Whatever this was, I'd do it. I was in Vegas to relax and have fun, and we'd probably never cross paths again. I'll go with the "what happens in Vegas stays in vegas" phrase. And most of all I wasn't about to let anyone ruin my mini vacation.
"What kind of game?" I asked.
I sat back down. There was still one shot in front of me-I'd almost forgotten it. I downed it, skipped the lime, just to feel the burn again.
"Nothing big," he said, that smirk returning. "Just a little drinking game.."
He waved the bartender over and ordered more tequila. Ten shots.
Shit.
I was already a little tipsy from the previous shots I had, but I wasn't backing down.
The bartender set the shots down and walked away.
The others in the bar were probably having the best night ever.while I was here , trapped with the devil himself.
Quin slid five of the shots toward me and kept the other five. He picked up two at once, maintaining eye contact as he downed them back-to-back.
"Pfft. Such a show-off," I muttered.
I drank all five shots in a row.
Then I ordered more-just to prove I wasn't a coward.
And that was the beginning of my real nightmare.
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9.8
I sat in the VIP waiting room of the fertility clinic, clutching the report that confirmed my implantation was a success. After years of struggling, I finally had a reason to make my marriage with Garnett work.
But when I went to find him in the lounge, I heard a woman’s laughter coming from behind the door. It was his mistress, Alison. I froze as I heard Garnett’s cold, dismissive voice.
"She’s just an incubator."
"Once the heir is born, we kick her out. The trust fund only requires a legitimate heir born to my wife. It doesn't require the wife to stick around afterwards."
The betrayal went deeper than I could have imagined. I soon discovered the clinic had botched the procedure—the baby I was carrying wasn't even Garnett’s. It was donor sperm from Sterling Sharp, the most powerful tech mogul in the world.
When my in-laws forced me to move into their estate for "monitoring," I realized I was entering a cage. Garnett and his mistress were paying the family doctor to inject me with hallucinogens to mimic a mental breakdown. They planned to declare me legally incompetent and commit me to an asylum the second I gave birth.
I stood in the shadows of the East Wing, realizing my husband wasn't just stealing my child—he was trying to delete my mind. The people I called family were poisoning me daily, waiting for me to break so they could claim a legacy that wasn't even theirs.
They wanted a madwoman, so I decided to give them one. I turned the doctor into my double agent, faked every symptom of a breakdown, and began building a secret empire from the shadows. Garnett thinks he’s trapped an incubator, but he’s actually locked himself in with a nuclear weapon.
7.3
Ella Hart was adopted into a wealthy household, but she never lived like a daughter.
While her adoptive mother, Nora, indulged in luxury and high society, Ella was treated like little more than a servant, forced to do the hardest chores and surviving on scraps of affection.
Until the day her biological family finally found her and brought a shocking revelation.
Years ago, the Hart family had arranged a marriage alliance with the Sterling family. The bride was meant to be either Ella... or her beloved sister, Piper.
That day, the impossibly handsome man arrived in worn-out clothes. He was instantly rejected by Piper.
To escape her old life, Ella agreed without hesitation, but she would never have imagined the man in front of her was the richest CEO in the city...
8.1
I was Asset 7, a "ghost" kept in a high-security facility with no memory and paralyzed vocal cords. My only value was my silence, making me the perfect disposable tool for the world's elite.
Everything changed when I was sold to Culver Lancaster, a media billionaire drugged with a dangerous synthetic aphrodisiac. His staff needed a woman who couldn't talk, couldn't sue, and didn't exist in any official directory.
They scrubbed my skin raw like a piece of meat and threw me into a dark penthouse with a man who had lost his mind to the drug. Culver didn't treat me like a human; he choked me against a door and used my body as a shield against his own madness. When I tried to run, his security hunted me down with dogs, and Culver threw me into a freezing wine cellar. I spent days in total darkness, starving and dehydrated, lapping dirty water off the floor just to stay alive.
I lay on that cold stone, wondering why my life had become a series of cages and scars. I couldn't even scream to let the world know I was dying. How could a man claim to protect me while treating me like a disposable object?
But when Culver finally came to the cellar to feed me, I didn't surrender. I bit him hard enough to draw blood, watching the shock in his eyes as I communicated the only way I could.
Now, I wear the silk uniform and the velvet mask he bought for me, playing the role of his obedient "Shadow." Culver thinks he owns a broken girl he can lock in a velvet panic room, but I'm a weapon who just found her target. Every kiss is a reconnaissance mission, and I'm going to burn his empire to the ground.
8.6
I met him on a rainy afternoon when we were both young, uncertain, and standing on the edge of adulthood.
Adrian Cole wasn't rich then. He wasn't powerful. But from the moment his eyes found mine, something inside me knew my life would never be the same.
We fell in love slowly... then all at once.
He was my first kiss under streetlights, my safest place, my greatest heartbreak.
And the man who walked away.
Years later, Adrian returns - no longer the struggling boy I once knew, but a billionaire CEO with power, dominance, and a dangerous intensity that still makes my heart tremble.
He says I've always belonged to him.
But love isn't that simple.
Not after betrayal.
Not after loss.
Not after the night that shattered us both.
Now he wants a second chance.
And this time... he refuses to let me go.
9.5
I married Clive Harrington, the coldest billionaire in Manhattan, under a strict contract that forbade any emotional burdens. When I needed a high-risk surgery to save my sight, I checked into the clinic alone, hiding the procedure from a husband who saw me as nothing more than a legal asset.
I thought I could handle the darkness in silence. But while I was blind and bandaged in my hospital bed, my biological mother called, screaming that if I didn't produce a Harrington heir by the end of the fiscal year, she would cut off the life-saving treatments for my disabled sister.
I was crawling on the cold hospital floor, desperately feeling for a cane I had dropped, when I touched a pair of expensive leather shoes. It was Clive. He was supposed to be in London closing a multi-million dollar deal, but there he was, watching his "contract wife" groveling in the dark like a beggar.
He didn't walk away in disgust. He carried me to a five-thousand-dollar-a-night VIP suite and sat by my bed, listening in chilling silence as another voicemail from my mother filled the room, calling me a "useless broodmare" who was only worth the trust fund disbursements my marriage secured.
I expected him to remind me of Clause 34B or hand me divorce papers now that I was "damaged goods." Instead, I felt his thumb brush a stray tear from my cheek, his presence shifting from a statue of ice into a predatory shield.
"I thought I was just currency to you," I whispered, my voice trembling behind the gauze. "Just an investment."
Clive didn't answer with words. He picked up his phone and called his head of legal with a single, terrifying command: "Kill the Douglas family’s credit lines. Every debt, every lien—trigger them all. If they want a war, I’ll give them a massacre."
As he leaned down to kiss my bandaged forehead, I realized the contract was dead. My husband wasn't protecting an asset anymore; he was hunting the people who had dared to touch what belonged to him.
7.1
Reece Kay has thirty days to save her family's dying boutique.
Thirty days to find millions she doesn't have.
Thirty days before the bank takes everything.
Her only option is a trust fund her late father left behind.
The catch? She must marry.
Not just any man.
Rhys Lawson.
The billionaire CEO who broke her heart five years ago.
Rhys needs a wife to secure a ruthless business merger. Reece needs his name to unlock the money. The deal is simple. One year. No love. No intimacy. No emotions.
But living under the same roof turns old wounds into fresh scars. Desire creeps in where hatred once lived. And when powerful enemies begin hunting for the truth, their fake marriage becomes more dangerous than either expected.
Will Reece lose the contract...
or risk losing her heart to the man who already destroyed it once?