All Chapters of THE BILLIONAIRE’S SECRET LEGACY: Chapter 1 - Chapter 9

"I need the payment before the end of the week, Cassie, regardless of how you go about it. If not, we’ll have to evict you."As I gazed at the paper, shaking hands, the words became jumbled. The red lettering shouted at me, "EVICTION NOTICE." Breathing became difficult, and my heart thumped in my chest."Hey? Cassie? Are you still present? My world was collapsing in the present when I heard the landlord's voice crackle over the phone.I stumbled, "I—I’m here," and tried to calm my voice. "I'll come up with something. I require further time.Even I could see the doubt in my voice, though. More time? Time was running out.After a little silence, he let out a sigh that sounded like the weight of the entire planet. "I apologize, but I am unable to do that. You've fallen behind by three months already.I was terrified I would faint from the vertigo, so I buried the heels of my hands in my temples and closed my eyes. The one thing I had worked for, battled for, and loved more than anything

Nicholas spoke the word "marriage," which fell between us like a grenade.Confident that I had misheard, I blinked. "Excuse me?""You heard me," he said in a cool, collected tone. "I'm suggesting a marriage contract. Naturally, it will be temporary and on terms that are advantageous to both of us.”I let out a sour, acrid laugh. "You can’t be serious."Nicholas's face, however, remained unwavering. He stayed calm, staring at me with his sharp eyes as if he were analyzing every idea that was going through my mind.I got out of his office's velvet chair, which I hadn't even wanted to sit in.I said, "This is absurd," as I paced in the direction of the floor-to-ceiling windows. Below, the city lights glowed, taunting me with their brightness."Why would I ever agree to something like that?"Nicholas said, "Because it solves both our problems," in a level tone. His posture was as rigid as the tone of his words, and he remained seated. "You must have enough money to keep your art center op

Chandeliers shone throughout the ballroom, illuminating an ocean of immaculately attired guests with golden light. The aroma of champagne and roses filled the air, and the murmur of courteous conversation was broken up by sporadic laughter. The entire room exuded luxury, and I felt like an unexpected guest at the wrong party.My satin gown's magnificence didn't conceal the pain that was scuttling beneath my skin as I adjusted the strap. A few feet away, encircled by a group of admirers, stood my new spouse. Since our arrival, I have hardly heard fromNicholas Scott, the man whom everyone in this room appeared to respect.One of the voices by my side purred, "You look stunning, darling,"An older woman with a smile that stopped short of her eyes caught my attention. She evaluated me with carefully veiled contempt while her diamond necklace glistened."Thank you," I said, maintaining a calm tone.She went on, "You must be thrilled." Nicholas is really attractive. However, I have to admi

"Is this what married life is supposed to feel like?" I whispered, my voice drowned out by the penthouse's eerie quiet. It was morning, and sunshine poured like liquid gold across the marble flooring from the enormous glass windows. I sat on one of the kitchen chairs and put my hands around a steaming mug of coffee. The mansion-sized penthouse was so large, immaculate, and completely dead that it could have passed for a museum.Nicholas Scott curated this void. Even when he wasn't around, his presence persisted. In this huge, soulless room, the gentle tap of my fingertips against the porcelain mug seemed like a scream. He's most likely going to some Scheming global dominance in a boardroom.Though it was close to the truth, the notion should have been sardonic. Nicholas has been a ghost for the last week. Always immaculately dressed, his visage an unreadable mask, his suit wrinkle-free, he arrived home late.If he did recognize me, it was to say something like, "Good morning," or "

Following Nicholas' abrupt "investment" in the art center, the days went by in a tense cadence. I should have been ecstatic to see my haven turning into a building site for upgrades. However, I couldn't get rid of the anxiety that coiled inside me every time I heard Nicholas's voice booming through the building or saw the sleek black town car pull up outside.The strain was higher at home, or what I was meant to call "home."In that vast penthouse, Nicholas had always kept his distance. Though occasionally, I questioned whether he did it on purpose, keeping us apart as though the less time we spent together, the less genuine this whole arrangement would seem; we were like ships passing in the night. But despite his efforts to maintain his distance and coldness, something was changing.His eyes lingered when he believed I was not looking, and I could tell.I was alone in the kitchen one evening, gazing at the microwave's blinking clock. Even though it was late, the penthouse's silence