'TIL DECEIT DO US APART: BILLIONAIRE'S PRETEND BRIDE

Author's POV

The blaring horns of New York City’s late-night traffic hammered against Lena’s skull, intensifying the ache already gnawing at her temples. Rain drizzled down relentlessly, drenching the crowded streets in a damp, miserable haze.

“Hey! Some of us need some rest after a long day of work! What's with all this hold-up about?” a man hollered from his luxury Audi, his voice lost in the chaos.

Lena exhaled sharply and held her knee, trying to stop her head from aching.

Five months. Five whole months of relentless job hunting, yet nothing.

It didn’t make sense. She had graduated at the top of her class, valedictorian of her Master's program in accounting with a stellar 4.2 GPA. That should have opened doors. Instead, she was stuck balancing three jobs as a waitress, salonist, and daycare teacher just to get by.

But in a city ruled by the elite, academic achievements meant nothing compared to wealth, connections— and curves.

"Big boobs and a fat ass," she muttered, mocking herself. "Not my fault I was born flat."

She grimaced, clutching her knee tighter where the pain of standing too long had settled deep in the joint.

Earlier that day, she'd finally scored an interview with Luca Josh—the youngest heir of the infamous Josh dynasty. His early-morning email had been oddly direct, summoning her for a personal meeting after scanning her résumé and liking the photo on her ID.

It had all gone to hell the moment she entered his sleek, soulless office.

Luca had barely masked his disappointment when she walked in, but that hadn’t stopped him from making vile, suggestive remarks under the guise of "friendly conversation." When she politely mentioned being engaged, he'd shrugged, leaning closer, his voice low with mockery:

"Well, sweetheart, unless you're willing to really impress me tonight, that ring won't help you get this job."

Disgust had turned her stomach, but she'd kept her composure—until he body-shamed her outright, picking at her appearance like she was nothing more than an object. She’d snapped back, venom sharp on her tongue, and the next thing she knew, she was being thrown out of the building.

Literally.

Lena shivered, blinking back the sting of tears.

'Why didn't I see the red flags sooner?' She asked herself.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Fumbling it out, she squinted at the screen.

Abby:

Girl, no time for calls. About to dominate a sexy Italian stranger (insert blushing emoji). Hope you nailed that interview! Also… I just saw Drake checking into The Josh's Hotel with some chick wearing basically lingerie. Maybe you should come to check it out? Love you! (insert 20 heart emojis).

Lena frowned, running a shaky hand through her damp hair before replying to her best friend's message.

Lena:

Love you too, Abs. Drake said he had therapy at that hotel tonight. Don't overthink it. I'm sure it’s nothing.

She hesitated before adding:

Also… use protection.

When the message was sent, Lena barely had time to process anything else before—

SPLASH!

A sleek silver Porsche sped through a puddle, sending a wave of filthy rainwater cascading over her, drenching her completely.

Gasps echoed around her as she stood there, stunned, rainwater dripping from her hair and face.

Lena's wide eyes locked on the car as it came to a smooth stop in front of the massive glass building—Josh's main enterprise.

Her humiliation quickly twisted into rage.

'You’ve got to be kidding me.'

Teeth clenched, she stormed after the car, fists balled.

"Mommy, look! A witch!" a toddler whispered loudly, pointing at her dripping figure.

Lena ignored the sting of the words, her heels clicking hard against the pavement as the Porsche’s door opened.

Out stepped a man who screamed power—dressed in a sharp, tailored black suit with a silver cross tattoo peeking from beneath the collar of his shirt. Before Lena could confront him, a sea of paparazzi and reporters swarmed in.

"Mr. Josh! Is it true your mother has been diagnosed with cancer?"

"Are you finally ready to take over your family's empire?"

The questions flew relentlessly, but the man—clearly another member of the Josh dynasty—stood unbothered, his jaw tight, his gaze hard.

' Arrogant prick!' Lena squirmed inwardly.

She shoved through the crowd, determined to give him a piece of her mind, but a wall of muscle blocked her path.

"Step back," A towering bodyguard barked, his scowl making her feel microscopic.

Lena scowled right back. "I need to see that asshole who didn't have the courtesy to stop his freaking car and say sorry to me after driving his car at an unlawful speed limit and sending shit water over me!”

The bodyguard's face twisted in horror. He glanced over at his boss, who had noticeably heard what Lena had said since he had come to a complete halt.

The guard turned to Lena rapidly, trembling with anxiety that his boss would make a commotion if he saw the woman who had ridiculed his name...

"You’ve got two seconds to leave before I make you." He growled, a hint of fear in his eyes.

Lena opened her mouth to argue—only for the brute to shove her hard, sending her stumbling to the ground.

Laughter rippled through the crowd. Paparazzi barely spared her a glance, their focus glued to the Josh heir.

"Attention-seeking much?"

"Elites, don't date the oppressed; go find someone in your class and stop embarrassing yourself!”

"Petty little thing."

Lena’s chest tightened. She scrambled to her feet, clutching her muddy briefcase as humiliation crushed her like a weight.

Tears blurred her vision as she staggered away from the scene, cold and soaked to the bone.

The towering skyscrapers loomed above, symbols of the life she'd once dreamed of. The life she had worked so damn hard for.

She'd sacrificed so much—missed parties, pushed away romance throughout her high school and college years—all for this? For a city that refused to see her worth?

Her hands trembled as she flipped both middle fingers at the Josh building, voice cracking as she cried out,

"Screw you. You just lost the best accountant you’ll ever get."

'Who am I kidding?'

By the time Lena reached her apartment, her feet were blistered, and her spirit felt just as battered. She kicked off her mud-streaked heels, tossed them aside, and collapsed onto the couch, the dampness of her clothes seeping into the beige rug.

Hot tears welled again. She forced herself up, cleaned the mess, showered, and curled back up on the couch in a fresh set of clothes.

She returned to the living room, turned on the television, and was greeted with a commercial from the Joshes' company.

“ If I ever get to see that asshole, I'll give him a piece of my mind.” Lena scowled and turned off the television.

Her gaze flicked to the door, waiting for Drake. He always knew how to comfort her after bad days like this. But midnight passed. Then 1 a.m.

'The therapy should've ended hours ago.' Lena reckoned, worriedly.

Just as she was about to call him, her phone lit up with a call from Drake.

“Happy, she sat up and answered the call immediately.

“ It's past midnight and you haven't returned. You owe me a lot for getting me so worried.”

“ I think you have to wait a little bit longer because your fiance here can't get enough of me.” A female voice came through.

Lena raised a brow in confusion. She was about to ask who was speaking when the female spoke again.

“ Look, I'm aware Drake has a fiancee. It's my job as a sex worker to bang him, but I don't want you to continue getting deceived by him.”

Lena’s heart started to beat fast. She rose to her feet and gripped the phone tightly.

“ I don't understand what—”

“ Thought I heard my phone ringing.” Drake's voice came through, and after a second, Lena heard the sound of something crashing into a bed.

“ Must be your imagination.”

“ Or maybe I'm too high from making love with you.” Drake laughed so loud it shattered Lena's heart into pieces. “ Stand on the bed and bend for me, would you? Be a nasty little prostitute, and don't scream till I tell you to.”

“ What about your fiancee? She'd get worried if you don't get home soon.”

Drake chuckled ludicrously. “ She will believe any false story I tell her like the naive little slut she is. If not for the money she's giving me, I would have taken you as my bride in her place.”