Page 3 of Three Billionaire Grooms and Not the Right Bride

I’m brought back to the situation at hand when Mrs. Neal hands me her phone.

“Your banking details. Be quick about it.”

“What?”

“For heaven’s sake your banking details, girl,” Mrs. Neal barks.

I jump to attention, withdrawing my own phone for the details before I hand Mrs. Neal’s phone back to her.

“For your cooperation and your silence. And make no mistake, Ms. Young, if this ever gets out, you won’t live long enough to say ‘whoopsie’ one more time.”

Right. I won’t be using the word "whoopsie" anymore; that’s for sure.

Struck dumb, I read the notification on my phone—I didn’t have a choice; the woman would have rammed her phone down my throat otherwise—and stare in mute confusion at the strong string of zeroes attached to the number one in the front.

“I can’t take this,” I say in a daze and stupidly hand her my phone as if that’s how it works.

“I don’t remember giving you a choice. I gave you an instruction. You do not have a choice to refuse me. Trust me, I can be very ugly when my family’s name is at stake.”

Okay. So there’s no reasoning with this woman. I would have stood in for Tatiana for free, but... this could save my entire life. I can pay off Jimmy and Mars every last cent my dad took from them. The relief of not having two dangerous gangsters busting up my door at odd hours is so huge I can almost taste my freedom. I'd still have so much money left over I could do anything I wanted. I’ll be rich.

But it’s wrong.

“You don’t have to pay me...”

“I’m not paying you for your service. I’m paying you for your silence. Do I have to say that with pictures, as if you’re five years old?”

So I don’t have a choice...

“Do you understand the power Tatiana will have as the bride of the collective heirs of Skycrest? And when she bears their children, that power will just increase exponentially. She’ll be the most envied, most powerful woman in the world and she answers to me. Don’t fuck this up.”

Yes, I’m stuck between Mrs. Neal and Mrs. Neal. The woman is already shouting at me to help her divest her daughter of the most exquisite gown I’ve ever seen. Then she instructs me to be ready by the time she gets back.

How can this be happening to me?

Chapter Three

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Hadley

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What in the freaking world is happening to me right now? I stare at myself in the mirror, equally petrified and perplexed, wearing a wedding gown made by a reclusive designer who lives in the Swiss Alps and was probably scared out of retirement by Mrs. Neal herself to design the dress.

Oh, and I’m on my way to marry three guys I don’t know from a donut. They’re not just any guys, too. Nope. They’re the heirs of The Skycrest Group, which happens to own half of the entire world. So yes, billionaires, a billion times over.

From very moderate beginnings myself, I most certainly cannot wrap my head around that level of wealth.

My phone beeps, and I shriek as if it stung me. Maybe it’s Mrs. Neal. Everything is fine with Tatiana. She’s on her way back, and I should get out of the dress immediately.

But then I think about the money in my bank account, and the non-logical, extremely wild, consequences-be-damned side of me emits a small whimper as she tries to hold on to all those zeroes until the steel boning jabs me in the ribs. No. I will have to give it back.

It’s not Mrs. Neal. Worse. It’s Aunt Heather. I have to answer.

“Hey, sweetie. How’s it going?” she pipes in her normal bubbly voice. At sixty, she has an eternally young voice.

“Hey Aunt Heather,” I say back, trying to mimic her voice, but my pitch starts wrong, and I basically bark the words at her.