On The Day I Was Abandoned, I Married A Mysterious Billionaire

I sat alone at the upscale restaurant for an hour, waiting to finalize the details of my engagement party.

Then, my fiancé's assistant called to tell me Earl wasn't coming.

My stepsister, Molly, had suffered another perfectly timed "emergency," and Earl was at the hospital holding her hand.

This was the fifth time this month.

I was the one who saved his family's sinking business, but lately, he just called me "too aggressive," preferring Molly's fake, wide-eyed helplessness.

"Poor Molly, so glad Earl was there for her," read the caption on her victorious hospital selfie.

To make matters worse, my stepfather called, screaming at me to attend a dinner and apologize to a notorious creep just to clean up Molly's latest social mess.

In their eyes, I wasn't a daughter or a partner. I was just a sacrificial asset to be used and discarded.

The humiliation and betrayal made my blood run cold. I had given them my everything, only to be treated like garbage.

But this time, I didn't beg or cry.

"Tell him we're over," I said to the assistant, and blocked Earl's number.

I went to City Hall alone in the dead of night to bury my wasted years, only to bump into a breathtakingly dangerous stranger who had just coldly ended his own engagement.

He looked at me with ice-blue eyes and proposed the most insane idea I had ever heard.

"I need a fiancée. You need a shield. A contract."

I looked at the billionaire stranger, took a deep breath, and changed my fate.

"I agree."