Wrong Bed, Right Billionaire

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That made six times in six days this billionaire was getting publicly humiliated in my cafe. Iced coffee dripped slowly from the razor-sharp line of his jaw.

The furious socialite sitting across from him had just hurled her drink right into his face.

I slammed a stack of napkins onto the table in front of him. "Stop with these ridiculous dates. Marry me instead."

On the way to City Hall, my mother called, screaming that he was notoriously into men. She demanded to know if I was actually going through with this. I did not even blink. I told her I was marrying him.

That night, exhausted and disoriented in his massive penthouse, I stumbled into the wrong bedroom and crawled into his bed.

In the pitch black, muscular arms clamped around my waist like a steel vice, yanking me flush against a rock-hard chest.

"Move one more time, and I will show you exactly how ruthless I can be."

I let out a mocking laugh, tilting my chin up. "You want to be ruthless? Do you even have the equipment for that?"

The next second, he flipped us over, pinning me into the mattress with his massive frame. "Want to find out?"

By noon the next day, I was completely paralyzed in a tangle of silk sheets, every single muscle in my body screaming in soreness.

That absolute, two-faced liar.

Chapter 1

"It has been six days. He meets a different girl every single day, and almost every day he gets coffee thrown in his face Cleo, is there something wrong with him?"

"But he is so gorgeous. He does not look like a freak at all."

For six consecutive days, that man, radiating an intensely oppressive aura in his bespoke tailored suit, had been conducting high-stakes billionaire blind dates in my cafe. He had gotten iced coffee hurled at him by socialites three times and caught a sharp slap across the face once. Even so, he never flinched. He remained terrifyingly composed, like a stone statue.

Montgomery, you arrogant, untouchable bastard. Look at you now.

"Maybe he is. You can never judge a book by its cover." I smirked, glancing over at Kenzie. "Hand me the napkins."

Kenzie slid the stack of napkins across the counter, eyeing me with pure suspicion.

I gave her a quick wink, grabbed the napkins, and walked right over to his table. I slid into the booth beside Montgomery and reached out to wipe the dripping coffee from his face.

"Cleo?" He jerked his head back, dodging my hand. He shifted his gaze to me, his dark eyes narrowing in confusion.

He wore a black dress shirt today, which cleverly masked the coffee stains soaking through the expensive fabric. And that chiseled, razor-sharp face of his was still entirely too handsome for his own good.

"I guess you did not know I own this place." And he certainly did not know I had been eavesdropping on his dates for six straight days. I watched him use the exact same repulsive lines to provoke three different women into throwing their drinks at him, and another into slapping him hard across the jaw.

The other two who managed to keep their hands to themselves just called him a psycho, grabbed their designer bags, and stormed out without looking back.

I let out a soft laugh and reached for his face again. This time, he stayed perfectly still. I wiped away the sticky residue, revealing those cold, unapproachable features underneath.

Strikingly handsome, sharp jawline, absolutely flawless physique. A man this perfect actually having a screw loose I guess God really does play fair.

"I was not aware you ran a cafe," he finally said.

"Well." I tossed the soiled napkins into a nearby bin and flashed him a smile. "Now you know."

He pressed his lips into a thin line, staying quiet as he looked down to adjust his ruined cuffs.

That was when I dropped the bomb.

"Montgomery, stop with these blind dates. Marry me instead."

His eyes froze. His hands stopped mid-motion. "Why?" he asked.

"Let's make a deal. You need a marriage to answer to your massive family empire so you can secure your trust fund and inheritance. I happen to need a powerful husband to completely break free from my mother's endless control."

"We both get what we want, and we stay out of each other's business. It's a perfect arrangement." I kept my tone totally casual, tossing the words out like a simple business proposition, even as my fingernails dug so hard into my palms that they nearly broke the skin.

I had carried a torch for this man for ten years. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I would be the one proposing to him like this.

And after a brief moment of hesitation, he actually agreed.

"Fine." He stayed silent for about eight seconds before giving a slow, deliberate nod. "That works."

Chapter 2

Just like that, we each went home to grab our passports and social security cards, changed our clothes, and went straight to City Hall.

When his mother found out I was the one marrying him, she called me immediately.

"Cleo how could it be you marrying Montgomery? Even though I adore you and I have always wanted you to be my daughter-in-law, you cannot marry him. Because"

"I know, ma'am," I interrupted her, my voice steady. "I know a little bit about his situation."

The woman on the other end of the line fell silent for a long moment before asking softly, "Are you truly determined to marry him? Even if he is" She could not seem to bring herself to finish the sentence.

"I am absolutely certain," I said, forcing a bright smile into my voice. "I am parked right outside your gates right now, waiting for Montgomery to grab his documents so we can head to City Hall."

"After today, I am going to have to start calling you Mom. I am so happy to become your daughter-in-law."

I heard a heavy sigh over the phone, but in the end, she did not try to stop me again.

Montgomery came out shortly after, freshly changed and holding his paperwork. He had swapped out his suit for a crisp white dress shirt. He looked impossibly clean and sharp, radiating the same breathtaking, sunlit charisma he had when he was eighteen. It was impossible to look away from him.

He pulled open the passenger door, slid into the driver's seat, and looked at me. "You still have time to back out."

"Why would I back out? You're incredibly wealthy and gorgeous. You're the ultimate catch that women dream of But most importantly, once we're married, we both get our freedom."

"No more parents breathing down our necks to settle down, no stifling marital obligations. And, of course, I never have to worry about giving birth. It is a win-win."

"As long as you do not regret it." He stared at me intensely for a few seconds before buckling his seatbelt and peeling out toward City Hall.

When we left City Hall, he drove me straight back to his place. It was a stunning, multi-level townhouse overlooking the river, perfectly secluded right in the middle of the bustling city. It was incredibly close to my cafe, a twenty-minute walk at most. It was located in an exclusive, ultra-luxury neighborhood, sitting on prime real estate I could never even dream of affording.

"Move your things over whenever you have time. It will be more convenient for you to live here."

"Okay." I had no arguments against that. Since we were married now, we obviously had to live together.

Considering his condition it was not like I had anything to be afraid of. Besides, his parents knew the truth about our arrangement, but mine absolutely did not. If I did not move in with him, I would never hear the end of it from them.

I followed Montgomery inside. The duplex was massive, boasting five separate bedrooms.

"The security code is six digits: 182612. If you cannot remember that, I will set up your fingerprint and facial recognition in a minute."

To be honest, with a random string of numbers like that, I definitely would not remember it.

I trailed behind him as he gave me the tour, eventually stopping in the upstairs hallway. "You can pick whatever room you want. Other than my private study, you have full access to the entire house."

"Even if I want to kick you out of the master suite?" I asked, eyeing the massive double doors of the room where he clearly slept.

"Yes." His eyes darkened slightly, but he nodded without hesitation.

"I am just joking. I will take this one. Massive rooms just make me feel too exposed anyway." I walked past his suite and stopped in front of a smaller guest bedroom on the opposite side of the hall.

It was not exactly small. It had massive floor-to-ceiling windows offering a breathtaking view of the river, and the side window looked right over the manicured private park of the estate. The only slight downside was that it did not have an en-suite bathroom, but that hardly bothered me.

"Fine."

Chapter 3

After picking my room, we headed downstairs together. Navigating the slick marble stairs in my heels, my foot slipped.

Right as I was about to tumble down the steps, Montgomery's massive hand clamped around my waist, catching me effortlessly.

While my heart hammered against my ribs, his deep, magnetic voice rumbled right next to my ear. "Still so damn clumsy." Heat rushed straight to the tips of my ears.

Montgomery and I went way back. We met before we were even ten and went through the same elite prep schools all the way up. I was always tripping over my own feet back then, and he never missed a chance to ruthlessly mock my lack of coordination.

"Your stairs are just a death trap," I shot back, straightening up and pulling away from his iron grip.

"Right. The stairs." A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he pointed toward the end of the hall. "There is an elevator right there."

"Only an obnoxious billionaire installs a private elevator for a two-story penthouse," I muttered, trying to cover up my embarrassment.

"It came with the property. I bought this place when my grandfather was still healthy. I planned to move him in here with me."

"I did not expect him to collapse so suddenly." The temperature in the room seemed to drop. The sharp lines of his face tightened, his dark eyes turning entirely unreadable.

Montgomery was practically raised by the patriarch of his massive family empire. His compromise to get married was partly to ease the mind of his critically ill grandfather, and partly to satisfy the ruthless, ironclad conditions attached to his trust fund inheritance.

For six straight days in my cafe, I had listened to him deliver the exact same ultimatum to his blind dates: "I am only getting married to appease my grandfather. We live separate lives, no interference."

"If you can stomach that, name your price. If not, get out of my sight."

The arrogant bastard chased away six elite socialites with that exact sentence.

"He will pull through," I said, looking up at him.

"Yeah." He gave a clipped response. My empty words clearly did nothing to break through his armor.

"Let us go down." He took the lead down the stairs.

After two steps, he abruptly stopped, turned back, and locked his intense gaze onto me. "Cleo. This is your home now, too."

His voice carried a suffocating weight. His dark stare pinned me right to the spot, making my breath catch in my throat.

After programming my fingerprints into the penthouse's state-of-the-art security system, he reached into the inner pocket of his bespoke suit jacket. He pulled out a sleek, metallic Centurion Black Card and pressed it into my palm.

"No limit. Now that you share my last name, do not ever shortchange yourself on anything."

"But isn't this just a fake marriage?" I stared at the heavy metal card like it was going to burn a hole through my hand.

A muscle ticked in his jaw, but he did not pull his hand back. "Cleo, I told you earlier. Once the ink dries on that certificate, there is no turning back."

"Divorce does not exist in my family. I am not going to rush into a marriage just for my grandfather, only to divorce you the second he is gone."

"That is not what I meant," I said quickly.

"Then take it." He closed my fingers forcefully over the card.

"The PIN is the same as the door code. 182612. Memorize it."

"Got it."

182612 That definitely was not his birthday. It had to mean something else. Noticing the dangerous, impatient edge in his expression, I kept my mouth shut and tightened my grip on the card.

Chapter 4

I told him I would stay at my own place for the next two days and move some things over on the weekend. He agreed. He asked if we should visit my parents or his grandfather first. I told him we would see his grandfather.

"Then I will help you move your things on Saturday, and we will go to the hospital on Sunday."

After locking down the schedule, Montgomery headed to work, dropping me off at the cafe on his way. Right before I stepped out of the car, he looked at me. "I will pick you up after work. We are having dinner together."

"To celebrate our wedding?" I smirked.

"Yes. To celebrate our marriage." He gave a stiff, serious nod. His intense gaze lingered on my face like he wanted to say something else, but in the end, he just gave a clipped, "See you this afternoon."

"See you." I pushed the car door open and walked straight toward the cafe. I only looked back in the direction he left when the low growl of his car engine faded away.

Even now, my head was still spinning.

Montgomery and I were actually married.

And he said he never planned on getting a divorce I guess we really were going to spend the rest of our lives entangled in this mess.

To shut down any pointless flirting from other guys, I snapped a close-up photo of my hand wearing that massive, custom-made diamond ring and posted it to Instagram with the caption:

[Game over. Keep out.]

The second the post went live, my iMessage completely blew up. Texts flooded in one after another. Probably knowing I was too lazy to type back, my mother bypassed the messages and started relentlessly calling my phone.

On the other end of the line, she instantly accused me of faking a marriage certificate just to get her off my back. Only after I gave her a dead-serious confirmation did she change her tune. She literally shrieked through the speaker, screaming about how her utterly worthless daughter had actually managed to snag a top-tier billionaire Alpha.

When she found out it was Montgomery, her pitch reached a deafening frequency. "Why the hell would he marry you?"

"He is flawless. He is gorgeous, his family has endless old money."

I rolled my eyes. Not for the first time, I seriously questioned if I was adopted.

But the absolute kicker came at the very end. She actually had the nerve to ask, "A man like that, still unmarried at his age, and he actually agreed to settle for you? Does he have some kind of physical defect?"

Good God, did she have to be so brutally accurate? And why did she make it sound like no fully functioning man would ever want me? Whatever. She was my biological mother, a high-maintenance control freak who constantly faked heart palpitations to get her way.

I swallowed down my rising temper. "I am at work. We are done here. I will bring him over sometime next week, and you can interrogate him about his physical defects yourself."

"Why would I ask him that? Honestly fine, fine, I am hanging up. Since you are officially married, I guess I will take down all those dating profiles I made for you."

I rubbed my temples. Just how many dating apps had this woman plastered my face on? I honestly believed she only raised me so she could eventually marry me off to the highest bidder.

Chapter 5

At six o'clock sharp, Montgomery arrived at the cafe to pick me up.

He took me to an ultra-exclusive Michelin-starred restaurant. The ambiance was immaculate, but staring at the four-figure price tags attached to a single appetizer made my heart rate spike to five hundred. Good God, were they serving actual gold?

I silently set down my menu, watching Montgomery casually order without even blinking at the prices. I shoved my hands into my pockets and my fingers brushed against the heavy metal of the black card he had forced on me this morning. My heart rate instantly leveled out.

Even though I proudly branded myself as a fiercely independent woman who did not rely on men today was the very first day of our marriage. I had to give my new billionaire husband at least a little bit of face.

So, when Montgomery asked what I wanted, my hand visibly shook as I pointed to the cheapest thing on the menu, a seasonal side salad.

"Eating like a rabbit?" A faint smirk crossed his face. He reached out, plucking the menu right out of my trembling hands, and effortlessly rattled off several of the chef's signature dishes.

"That will do for now. We can add more if it is not enough."

I stared at him, speechless.

When the food finally arrived, I understood exactly why he had ordered half the menu. The portions were ridiculously small, basically just artistic smears on massive plates