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Woke Up Married To A Secret Zillionaire Novel Cover

Woke Up Married To A Secret Zillionaire

I went to the New York City Clerk's office to handle a simple administrative matter, but the woman behind the glass handed me a nightmare instead. It was a certified marriage license from Clark County, Nevada, filed exactly three months ago. My vision blurred as I read the name in the spouse field: Baxter Noel. I was legally married to the ruthless billionaire whose legal team was currently suing me for intellectual property theft and trying to destroy my career. I remembered the conference in Las Vegas and a drink that tasted far too sweet, followed by a twelve-hour black hole in my memory that I had chalked up to exhaustion. When I sought help at my family's estate, my stepmother and sister didn't offer comfort; they stole my passport, shredded my clothes, and framed me for academic plagiarism to strip away my university fellowship. Even Baxter himself looked me in the eye with cold indifference, claiming he didn't know me and promising to have me arrested for fraud if I ever showed him that document again. Within twenty-four hours, I was homeless, jobless, and being hunted by the most powerful man in the city. I couldn't understand why a man who "eats people for breakfast" would be caught in the same trap as a struggling scientist like me. The confusion turned to pure terror when I looked at the witness signature on the license: Gene Mcclain. My mother, who was supposed to have died in a car crash ten years ago, had signed that paper with a fresh, trembling hand only ninety days ago. "I am holding a grenade, and I have no idea when the pin was pulled." Standing in the biting November wind with nothing but a laptop and a marriage license, I realized I was just a pawn in a much deadlier game. I stopped running and began to fight back, determined to use my unwanted status as the billionaire's wife to uncover the truth about the mother who came back from the dead.
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Chapter 6

New York City at six a.m. was a gray, hostile beast. Eva sat on a bench in Central Park, clutching a paper cup of coffee that had gone cold an hour ago.

Her suitcase was at her feet. She had spent the last of her cash on a storage locker for her heavier clothes. Now, she just had her laptop bag and the clothes on her back.

She watched the joggers go by. They looked so purposeful. So secure.

Her phone buzzed. It was an automated email from the university. Payment due.

She closed her eyes.

A commotion nearby made her look up.

Near the hot dog cart, a small crowd had gathered. People were holding up phones, filming.

Eva stood up, her curiosity piquing. She walked closer.

In the center of the circle was an old woman. She was wearing a silk nightgown under a heavy fur coat that was buttoned wrong. She was wearing one slipper and one sneaker.

She was shouting at a pigeon.

Get away! The variable is unstable!

The hot dog vendor was waving a pair of tongs. Lady, move along! You are scaring the customers!

The woman grabbed the vendor's umbrella. The hydrogen bonds! They are breaking!

Eva froze.

She knew that voice. She knew that coat.

It was Grand Dame Noel. Baxter's grandmother. The matriarch of the Noel family.

Eva pushed through the crowd. Stop filming! she snapped at a teenager.

She approached the woman slowly. Mrs. Noel?

The old woman spun around. Her eyes were milky with cataracts, but they were sharp with panic.

Who are you? Are you the catalyst?

Eva held up her hands. No. I am... I am a scientist.

The woman's face softened. A scientist? Did you fix the equation?

Eva glanced at the vendor. Give me a water, she said.

She handed the bottle to the woman. Mrs. Noel took it with shaking hands.

She looked at Eva. She tilted her head.

I know you, she whispered.

Eva's heart skipped. You do?

The woman smiled. It was a beatific, childlike smile. You are the variable. The missing integer. I've seen the shape of you in the equations.

Eva frowned. She had expected recognition, but this was just the rambling of a brilliant mind lost in dementia.

"I'm just Eva," she said softly.

"No," the woman insisted, gripping Eva's hand with surprising strength. "You are the one who stabilizes the grid. I feel the static coming off you."

The crowd laughed. Someone shouted, Good luck with that!

Eva ignored them. She saw the medical bracelet on the woman's wrist. Memory Care Unit. Do Not Resuscitate.

We need to get you home, Eva said gently.

No! The woman stamped her foot. Baxter is mean. He took my lab away.

Eva felt a pang of sympathy. She knew what it was like to have your work taken away.

He is just worried about you, Eva said. Come on. Let's sit down.

She led the woman to a bench away from the crowd. The woman clung to Eva's arm like a lifeline.

My name is Eleanor, the woman said. Not Mrs. Noel. That was my mother-in-law. Horrible woman.

Eva smiled. Okay, Eleanor.

Eleanor leaned her head on Eva's shoulder. You smell like solder and lemon, she murmured. Just like a proper lab.

Eva stiffened. She hadn't been in a lab for days.

Eleanor closed her eyes. Don't let him ruin you, my dear. He has a heart of stone, my grandson. But you... you can crack it.

Eva looked down at the old woman. She felt a sudden, fierce protectiveness. This was the only family Baxter had. The only person he supposedly loved.

And here she was, lost in the park, finding comfort in the enemy.

Eva pulled out her phone. She hesitated. Calling the police would mean questions. Calling Baxter...

She didn't have his number.

She looked at the bracelet again. There was an emergency number.

She dialed.

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