Billionaire Romance (Wattpad Vol. 4)

Stories

Title: Billionaire Romance

Source: Wattpad (https://www.wattpad.com/story/400421713-billionaire-romance)

Author: Kellsszzy

Category: Billionaire / CEO Romance | Mature: False

Reads: 846 | Votes: 1 | Total Parts: 20

Tags: billionaire, romance

Synopsis: 💎 Billionaire's Secret 💎

She never expected to sign a contract that would change her life.

He never expected a fake relationship to feel so real.

When an ordinary girl with big dreams, agrees to become the billionaire Adrian Blackwood's "girlfriend" to protect his empire, she thinks it's only business. But every stolen glance, every heated argument, and every kiss that wasn't supposed to happen blurs the line between fake and forever.

With jealous rivals, hidden scandals, and a man who's used to getting everything he wants, she has to decide-

Is she just playing his game, or has she already lost her heart?

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### Chapter 1: Chapter One - Coffee, Chaos, and Him

The morning rush hour was a battlefield, and I was losing.

I clutched my tote bag tighter, weaving through the crowd of suits and heels that moved like they had somewhere important to be. My somewhere wasn't nearly as glamorous: a dingy office where I'd be lucky if the coffee machine didn't explode.

"Excuse me—sorry—" I muttered, trying not to spill the cheap latte I'd bought with the last of my change. Rent was due, my phone bill was late, and I was pretty sure my shoes were developing a hole the size of Texas.

Naturally, that's when it happened.

I collided with a wall. Or at least, I thought it was a wall until the wall growled.

"Watch where you're going."

My cup tilted, and before I could save it, the hot liquid splattered across the front of an immaculate charcoal suit. My eyes traveled up—past the crisp tie, the expensive watch glinting on his wrist, the broad chest—to a pair of storm-gray eyes glaring down at me like I'd just committed a federal crime.

Oh no.

The man was gorgeous in the kind of way that magazines airbrush men to look like—sharp jawline, perfectly styled black hair, lips pressed into a thin line of annoyance. And rich. I didn't need to see the polished leather shoes or the driver waiting by the sleek black car at the curb to know it. He screamed money.

"I—I'm so sorry!" My voice cracked as I fumbled for napkins that didn't exist. "I'll pay for the dry cleaning. Or—or a new suit?"

His gaze flicked to my worn sweater and fraying bag strap. He arched a brow, like the idea of me affording his suit was laughable.

"Do you have any idea how much this costs?" His voice was smooth, deep, but laced with steel. The kind of voice that didn't need to shout to be terrifying.

I swallowed. "Uh... a lot?"

The corner of his mouth twitched—not quite a smile, more like disbelief. He pulled a card from his pocket and held it out between two fingers. Black. Heavy stock. Just his name in silver letters: Adrian Blackwell.

"Show up at this address tomorrow, nine a.m. sharp. You're going to repay me."

I blinked. "What?"

"You heard me." His eyes lingered on me for a moment longer—intense, calculating—before he slid into the waiting car.

The door shut, the car pulled away, and I stood frozen on the sidewalk, still holding his business card.

I glanced down at the name again. My stomach dropped.

Adrian Blackwell. Billionaire CEO. The man whose face was plastered across Forbes and half the billboards downtown.

And tomorrow at nine a.m., I was apparently supposed to meet him.

What. The. Hell.

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### Chapter 2: Chapter Two - The Offer

The next morning, I stood in front of the tallest building I'd ever seen in my life. Glass, steel, and arrogance. It reached so high into the clouds I felt like I needed an oxygen mask just to look up at it.

The business card in my hand gleamed under the sun: Adrian Blackwell. CEO.

What was I doing here? I should've thrown this card into the nearest trash can and forgotten the man who wore thousand-dollar suits like they were pajamas.

But my rent notice sat folded in my bag, whispering that I had no choice.

I pushed through the revolving doors, instantly swallowed by marble floors, chandeliers, and people in sleek suits who looked like they belonged on magazine covers. I did not belong here.

"Can I help you?" The receptionist's smile faltered as her eyes scanned my thrift-store blouse.

"I, um..." I swallowed. "I'm here to see Adrian Blackwell. He asked me to come."

Her eyebrows shot up, like I'd just claimed to be the Queen of England. She picked up the phone, murmured something, and then motioned me toward the private elevator.

When the doors slid open on the top floor, the air changed. Colder. Quieter. Richer.

And there he was.

Adrian Blackwell stood behind a massive glass desk, city skyline stretching out behind him. He looked exactly the same as yesterday—sharp suit, sharper eyes—like the world bent itself around him.

"You're late," he said, glancing at his watch.

"It's nine-oh-two," I muttered.

His lips curved into the faintest smirk. "Two minutes late in my world is unacceptable."

I crossed my arms. "Look, about your suit—if you want me to scrub it with my bare hands, fine. I just don't have money for—"

He cut me off with a low chuckle. "I don't need your money. What I need... is you."

My breath caught. "Excuse me?"

He walked around the desk, closing the distance until he towered over me. His cologne was subtle but intoxicating, like cedarwood and danger.

"I need someone who doesn't worship me. Someone who can pretend to be my girlfriend. For six months."

My brain short-circuited. "What?"

"You'll attend events, dinners, trips. You'll smile at the cameras, hold my hand, play the role. In return, I'll pay you generously. More than enough to cover whatever pitiful debts you're drowning in."

Heat rushed to my cheeks. "That's insulting."

"It's reality." His eyes scanned my face, lingering too long. "You're a liability on your own. With me? You could have everything."

I shook my head. "Why me?"

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Because you looked me in the eye yesterday and didn't flinch. No one does that."

My pulse hammered.

"Think carefully," he added, pressing a sleek folder into my hands. "Sign the contract, and your life changes. Walk away, and you'll go back to... whatever it is you call living."

I stared at the folder, at the man, at the skyline behind him that looked so far out of reach.

And I realized my choice wasn't really a choice at all.

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