Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Three Days Ago, Madeline "Did you see that?" My voice came out bar "Calm down!" Did you see that?!" I screamed this time. "Calm down!" my mother shouted back. Clarisse Sullivan, immaculate as always in her hand-embroidered navy-blue dress, made me sit on the couch and handed me a glass of champagne. Even in the middle of chaos, she maintained the aristocratic composure that defined her. "You knew?" I asked, shock numbing me into an eerie calm. "You knew?"! "I suspected it," she admitted, smoothing an imaginary crease in her skirt.

"Your father did too." "Why did you let me go through this?" My mother moved closer and sat beside me, her perfectly manicured hands gripping mine with unsettling firmness. "Honestly, Madeline..." she sighed. "Because we needed this marriage just as much as Dominic needed us." "What do you mean?" "The parks, dear. We were bankrupt. Completely bankrupt. Your father..." She paused, as if gathering courage. Your father had two heart attacks in the past six months. The doctor said another serious bout of stress could be fatal." The ground disappeared beneath my feet.

"Mom..." "Dominic offered a solution. The casinos needed a new address, and the parks were perfect. With our name as a front, no one would suspect anything. It was risky, yes, but it was that or losing everything." "Illegal casinos, Mom! That's a crime!" "It was survival!" For the first time, I saw Clarisse Sullivan lose her composure. "Would you rather see your father die? See our family ruined? Watch everything the Sullivans built over generations disappear?" Hot tears streamed down my face, ruining the makeup that had been retouched just minutes earlier. "But you heard what he said...

"We would get rid of her. One way or another, Vivian would be removed from the picture. And Dominic... well, men can be controlled when you know where to apply pressure." The chill that ran down my spine had nothing to

gaze hardened. "Think of your father. Think of our family. Some battles were won with strategy, not impulse.' About twenty minutes later, with my makeup flawless again and no sign I'd been crying, I stood before the red pet leading to the altar. Dominic Blackwood waited for me there, in his tailored suit, standing tall and imposing. The ceremony was outdoors. Everything was decorated with flowers, statues, ribbons, and bows. On either side of the red carpet, rows upon rows

me with what I now knew was false pride. 'It's fine. I can do this.' I repeated the mantra with every step I took, my arm linked with my father's as we walked toward my fate. 'It's fine. I can do this.' "Take good care of her," Alfred Sullivan said when he handed me over to Dominic. I could see the sweat

I looked straight into his eyes. How had I never seen it before? There was no love there. No emotion. No awe at seeing me dressed like that. It was never about us. It was just business. "You look so beautiful," Dominic

and the urge to punch every one of those teeth out nearly made me dizzy. Instead, I looked away, toward my mother. She gave me a small, encouraging nod. "Madeline Sullivan, do you freely and willingly accept Dominic Blackwood as your husband?" I opened my mouth to answer, but no sound came out. My throat was bone-dry. My hands were sweating again. I stayed frozen for