I agreed to marry an old millionaire to save my mother… but on our wedding night, I saw him peel off his face and whisper, “Now you’re going to meet the man you really married.”

Not because I wanted to.

Because I was desperate.

My mother  had been diagnosed with a rare heart condition two years earlier. Even with insurance, the surgeries, medications, and specialist appointments drained everything we had.

By the end, we were surviving on borrowed time and borrowed money.

Then came .

Everyone in the city knew his name.

Billionaire investor.

Owner of half the skyline downtown.

A mysterious widower who rarely appeared in public except through carefully staged charity galas and business interviews.

He was seventy-two years old.

And somehow, he wanted to marry me.

The offer came through his assistant like a business proposal.