Married to Mr Billionaire

The scent hit me first. A familiar, cloying sweetness—the same perfume I’d bought Tamara for her birthday. It lingered in the air of my boyfriend’s apartment like a physical weight that pressed down on my lungs and stole my breath. My heart, a panicked drum against my ribs, was the only sound in the suffocating silence. It was the smell of betrayal, and it was everywhere.

“Jason!” The word ripped from my throat, a raw, strangled cry that felt foreign in the suffocating silence of the apartment. My breath hitched, a sob caught somewhere between my lungs and my heart. The air in the room, once warm with the promise of a future, was now just a suffocating memory. My duffel bag, packed and ready for a weekend getaway, felt like it was filled with stones.

He didn't flinch. He was just pulling on his shirt, his back to me, his movements cold and deliberate. His shoulders, a silhouette I knew by heart, were now a shape I didn't recognize. "Selena, don't be dramatic," he said, his voice a flat, detached monotone. "It was a mistake. Let's just talk about this later."

"Talk about what?" I demanded, my voice rising in a frantic, panicked pitch. "The fact that you’re in our home with my best friend?"

Tamara laughed, a cold, heartless sound that echoed off the high ceilings. She stood there in a thin blanket that was half-draped, a smug, knowing look on her face, as if she had just won a prize. Her eyes, which were once the color of friendship, were now filled with contempt.

"Why are you acting like a child, Selena?" Jason said, his voice flat. He finally turned around, and the casual indifference on his face was a final blow. "Her body’s better than yours anyway. And I needed to protect my job."

My blood ran cold. The words hit me like a physical blow. A sudden, bitter taste of betrayal flooded my mouth. The man standing in front of me wasn’t the man I loved. He was a stranger. A fraud. "What did you say?" I whispered, my world tilting on its axis.

“You heard me,” he said, his voice dangerously calm. “I’m up for a promotion, and I can’t have someone like you holding me back. I was forced to choose. And I chose my career.”

"Forced?" I repeated, my voice shaking with a rage that had nowhere to go. "Who forced you?"

He didn’t answer. He just looked at me with a cold, blank stare. The silence was louder than any screaming. It was a silence filled with his lies, and the painful reality that my life was over. I was a failure. My family was relying on me to save them, but I couldn't even save myself.

“Jason, please,” I begged, the words catching in my throat. “After everything I did for you—why?”

He shrugged, a dismissive gesture that crumpled the last piece of my dignity. “Your problem. And this relationship? It’s over. Use the front door.” He gestured with a flick of his head, a stranger pushing me out of a stranger’s home. He threw a pillow at me, a final act of contempt. “Get out.”

I walked out into the cold, into the rain. The icy drops felt like pinpricks on my skin, washing away the last remnants of warmth. My duffel bag felt impossibly heavy, each stitch a painful reminder of my betrayal. My entire life was packed into one bag. Just hours ago, my manager's words echoed in my mind. "We’re letting you go, Selena." A white envelope and a room full of pitying stares were all I got for three years of hard work. I was out of a job and out of a home.

My phone vibrated. A text from my sister, Daniella.

“Selena, Mom needs help with the rent again. And the medical bills… I don’t know what to do.”

The guilt hit me like a sucker punch. My hands were empty. I had nothing left to give and I had failed them.

A black car appeared like a silent, sleek predator that rolled up silently. It was a stark contrast to my misery, a sign of a world I didn't belong in. The tinted window slid down, and a woman stepped out. She looked like she’d walked straight out of an aristocrat’s dream—silver hair slicked back, face sharp, unreadable. Her eyes locked onto mine, a cold fire in their depths.

“You’re Selena Vane?” she asked. Her voice was as smooth and polished as the car she’d stepped from.

I froze, the rain pasting strands of hair to my face. “Yes. Who’s asking?”

“My name is Vivienne. And I believe we were fated to meet.”

I almost walked away. “Look, lady, I’m not in the mood for cryptic rich people tonight.”

She smiled faintly, a subtle curve of her lips that didn't reach her eyes. “Neither am I. But I’m here to offer you purpose. The kind of purpose that can save your family from a debt you don't even know they have.”

My heart stopped, then began a frantic, panicked beat. "What do you know about my family?"

She didn’t answer. “Your life has just been carefully taken apart by people who don’t want you to succeed. And I need a girl with nothing left to lose.”

“If this is a lie…”

“It’s not,” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. “It’s an offer. One that can save you from the people who did this to you.”

I slid into the back of the car, soaked and unsure. The seat was too soft. The silence too heavy. But I sat still, letting the unfamiliar warmth sink into my skin. We drove for what felt like forever, until the gates finally opened.

The estate looked like it belonged in a gothic novel towering marble walls, iron fences, gardens trimmed with surgical precision. Even the air tasted different here, cleaner, colder, filled with the scent of old money and silence. Inside, it was quiet,Rich,clean and too perfect.

Vivienne turned to me, her expression a mix of triumph and something unreadable. “You’ll meet him tomorrow. For now, rest.”

I didn’t argue as i didn’t have the energy. Her grandson. A man whose life was somehow tied to mine.

Although it sounded insane But insanity still beat invisibility.