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UNEXPECTEDLY THE BILLIONAIRE'S WIFE  Novel Cover

UNEXPECTEDLY THE BILLIONAIRE'S WIFE

All Layla Anderson wanted was a way to help her dad. He's in prison, chasing redemption for the mess he made and she's doing everything she can to save enough for his bail. She never expected her chance would come from her wealthy friend, Victoria Whitmore, who offers her $40,000 to crash her wedding and stir up scandal. The plan? Walk into the church, drop a lie, walk out. Easy. Until Layla claims she's pregnant with the groom's child. Julian Bennett, quiet, sharp, and heir to a fortune doesn't take the accusation lightly. But instead of exposing her, he shows up with a proposition: if her lie was that believable, why not make it useful? A fake relationship. Public enough to cause a stir. Private enough to stay in control. Only......, control starts slipping fast. What began as a transaction slowly becomes something more. Julian's world is nothing like Layla's, but his family feels warmer than she expected, and his presence steadier than she ever imagined. For the first time in a long time, she feels seen. Safe. Maybe even wanted. But life doesn't just let you rewrite your story. And when the past Layla ran from starts catching up, she'll have to face the hardest question of all: Can you build something real on a foundation of lies??
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Chapter 6

Oh my God... Layla thought, her heart beginning to pound wildly in her chest. Panic surged through her veins as she froze on the sidewalk, eyes glued to the black van and the two masked men stepping out of it.

Were they working for the groom?

How did they even find me?

Her mind was spinning, tangled with nervous thoughts that came faster than she could process them. She had done everything so perfectly-or so she thought. The disguise, the wig, the careful escape plan... it was all supposed to be foolproof.

But now, with two strangers closing in on her, it suddenly didn't feel so flawless anymore.

Victoria's warning echoed in her mind like a ghost:

"Be careful, Layla. Julian Bennett might come looking for you."

Layla had brushed it off with confidence back then, certain that no one-not even Julian-could possibly track her down. She hadn't used her real name, hadn't spoken too much, hadn't left any obvious trace behind. So how...?

As she stood there, frozen with indecision, her breathing grew shaky. Maybe I should just run away... hide somewhere and come back tomorrow, she thought desperately, her eyes darting for an escape route.

"How did they even figure out it was me?" she muttered under her breath, her voice weak and trembling.

She took one cautious step back... then another. Her fingers clenched tighter around the half-eaten burger she had treated herself to, until it slipped and fell from her hand, landing on the ground with a soft thud. It had gone cold, just like her blood.

The two men continued toward her, their movements calm but threatening. Their pace was steady, too steady, like they weren't in a hurry...like they knew she had nowhere to run.

"Wh-Who... who are you?" Layla called out, her voice breaking as she backed away further, her feet crunching on the gravel.

"Stay away from me! Why are you coming closer?" she asked, her tone rising, laced with fear.

But the men didn't answer. They didn't pause. They didn't even flinch.

They just kept walking.

Layla's chest tightened. Her body screamed at her to run, but her legs felt heavy, her thoughts scrambled. This couldn't be happening. Not now. Not when things were finally starting to look up.

Her eyes darted wildly, searching for anything any chance to outsmart them, even for a second.

And then she saw it.

A small, rusty bench across the road near a streetlamp. An idea flickered in her mind, and without thinking twice, she lifted her shaking hand and pointed toward it.

"L-Look!" she yelled suddenly, louder than she'd expected, her voice echoing through the quiet street. "Over there!"

The two men stopped, just for a split second, their heads turning to where she was pointing.

And that was all she needed.

With her heart in her throat, Layla spun on her heel and bolted, her shoes hitting the pavement hard as she sprinted away with everything she had. Her breath was fast and shallow, the cold air burning her lungs as she ran. She didn't know where she was going, she just knew she needed to be far away.

She rounded a corner blindly, her legs aching, and came to a sudden stop in front of Mrs. Brianna's house, her sweet old neighbor who always smelled like cinnamon.

But Layla didn't get far.

She collided with something...or someone.

The impact knocked the wind out of her, and she stumbled back slightly, her eyes flying up to see who it was.

It wasn't the masked men.

But it also wasn't someone she recognized right away.

The figure stood tall and still, half-shadowed by the porch light. Her breath came in hard pants as she looked up, trying to make sense of the stranger's face.

"Wh... Who are you?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, chest heaving as she stared at the figure standing in her way.

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