My Billionaire Poor Husband

 "You and your sister have to leave this house today," my stepmother said, calmly.      "And you can’t come back. Ever," she added.      "I agree," I answered without hesitation, even though I could feel my heart fragmenting.           "You also need to give up your shares of your father’s company.”      "Fine.” I did my best to show not a sliver of emotion. "Anything else? Just get it over with."      "Oh, just one last little thing.” Her smile sent ice water dripping down my spine. “You will be marrying the eldest son of the Devereaux family."      I’d more or less predicted everything else, but that caught me off guard. "Why?" I asked.      "Because someone has to, and it’s not going to be me. And someone like you, an orphan, is the perfect match for a lowly tailor!" a smug voice came from upstairs.      I rolled my eyes at my stepsister Caroline’s comment, but decided not to dignify her with a response.       "Because we can't break the agreement,” My stepmother explained with a sigh, ignoring Caroline. "And Caroline already has a boyfriend."      So I need to marry a stranger I've never even met. Figures.        I wished I could refuse. I desperately wanted to.       But I really didn’t have much of a choice.       My grandmother was still lying in a hospital bed, and my little sister was about to start school.      Half a hundred thousand. That's what she promised me.      "The money will be transferred to my account immediately after the marriage," I confirmed, looking my stepmother in the eye.       Half a hundred thousand. It was far less than what she had taken of my father's assets, but I knew I had the choice of taking it or being thrown out of this house penniless.      "Yes, as long as you agree," she replied.      I drew in a long, slow breath, trying to calm my nerves. "I agree."      "Wonderful."      “The promised wedding was supposed to be in two months, but for some reason they asked to move it up. Since you agreed, the wedding will take place in a week. And then you can live a happy life with that tailor boy.” She smiled the way which I hated.    A tailor? They're going to regret and eat their own fists when they see my insanely handsome millionaire husband.