The Mysterious Billionaire and His Substitute Bride

By the time they arrived home, a delivery truck was parked in the driveway, and staff from South Pole were carefully transporting one exquisite dress after another into the villa. Any woman would be quite overwhelmed to see so many gorgeous dresses at the same time, let alone own them.

Still, Janet couldn’t help but frown and scold her overly indulgent husband. “Ethan, you don’t have to spend so much money on me. We’d better save for the future, just in case. Stop squandering your wealth like this. I know you’re filthy rich, but…”

She unconsciously drifted into silence, thinking she might have said too much. She hadn’t completely reconciled with Ethan yet, and besides, it was his own money. By all rights, she wasn’t in a position to interfere with his finances.

“Forget it,” Janet muttered angrily and stomped over to the sofa.

Ethan chuckled at the grumpy look on her face.

He knew he should coax her and bring her over back to his side. If he let this selfless woman go, she would only end up getting bullied by other people.

“How about this, then—what if I surrender all my assets to you? You can take charge of my finances from now on.” Ethan plopped down next to Janet, rather surprised at himself. It seemed that he had taken well to getting tied down and submitting to his dear wife.

Janet gaped at him, just as shocked by his proposal, maybe even more.

Ethan had an obscene amount of money, and they both knew it. Was he even aware of what he was saying?

He cleared his throat and chuckled again, a mild attempt to lighten things up. “Take your time and think it over. There’s no rush. For now, just stay at home and get some rest. I’ll take care of everything else.”

*******

so busy in the next three

ever since their fight, which only made it all the more difficult for Janet to see him. He’d be gone long before she woke up

overthinking the possibilities, especially since she was in the dark about whatever was keeping Ethan so busy. She tried to find things to do at home, if only to distract herself from her budding

third day, their doorbell

a young man with short, curly

Lind. I’ve

her head to the side and narrowed her eyes.

promptly introduced himself. “Ah, pardon me. My name is Sean Johnson, and I’m Mr. Larson’s personal assistant. We have met once, a long

gasped and exclaimed, “Oh, so it’s you! Do come in and make yourself at

other people that included of a makeup

them. For one thing, the makeup artist was renowned in the entertainment industry for having done international stars and

managed to book such a high-profile

ignored her puzzlement and proceeded

let’s get to work! We only have three hours

into action

intimidated by the sharp and efficient atmosphere that Sean commanded. Nonetheless, she let herself be