The Billionaire's Business Proposal

　　Madison

　　"I can't do this," I said, my voice barely louder than a whisper as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I stared at myself in the mirror. I can't recognize myself. My mom stood beside me , wearing a proud smile but her smile dropped as soon as her eyes met mine in mirror.

　　The bridal gown felt too heavy. Too white. Like it didn't belong on someone standing on the edge of breaking.

　　My mother didn't look up from adjusting the sleeves on my dress. "You will do this, Madison."

　　I turned toward her sharply. "I'm not some pawn, Mother. I'm not marrying James just so you and Dad can save your company."

　　She straightened slowly, meeting my eyes through the mirror.

　　"You are exactly that. A pawn, if that's what it takes. You think marriage is about love? That's adorable." Her smile was tight. Cold. "You'll marry James because this merger will secure our future. His father already signed the papers. You walk down that aisle, or everything your father built—everything we built—will disappear."

　　"And what about what I want?" I asked, my voice cracking.

　　"You can have your wants after the vows," she snapped. "Not before."

　　Tears burned behind my eyes, but I blinked them back. I wouldn't let her see me fall apart.

　　"I need some air," I murmured, turning away before she could say more.

　　She didn't stop me.

　　I walked through the corridor, my heels clicking too loudly on the marble floors. My chest was tight. I needed to breathe, to escape, to think.

　　Weddings are supposed to be joyful. Magical. The beginning of a dream. It was supposed to be fairy tale. Every little girl dreams about her ideal wedding day. I too had dreamt about it. For years.

　　I thought that I would marry the love of my life who would kiss the ground I walk on. Who would whisper me sweet nothings.

　　But mine felt like a funeral wrapped in silk.

　　Like marrying a man I barely knew beyond stiff family dinners and curated social events would make everything better. James was definitely not my type with overly proper dressing to his stuff poster and don't get me started with his hair. I presume that he empties an entire bottle of gel on top of his head each morning.

　　Still, I said yes.

　　And I regret everything from that moment on.

　　I slipped away from the makeup artists and the well-meaning aunts, walking down a quiet hallway toward the lounge where my parents were supposed to be. My gown was too heavy, neckline too deep because according to my mother James would like this dress on me. As if I cared. I walked without stopping, many people turned to look at me because it's not everyday you see a bride walking around as if it was just her normal day.

　　But someone was already there.

　　A man stood just outside the lounge door, tall and sharp in a dark suit. Not someone I recognized — and I knew every name on the guest list. His jacket was unbuttoned, his posture casual, but his eyes… they were fixed on the door like something interesting was happening inside. And oh god, he was beautiful with chiseled jaw and perfect blue eyes. His hair fell on his forehead, definitely not styled but it looked great on him.

　　I paused, unsure. "Excuse me, this area is for family only," I said, keeping my voice polite but firm. I am never rude to anyone, my parents won't like it if I was.

　　He turned to me slowly, the corner of his mouth twitching like I'd amused him. Oh god… he is totally my type. "You might want to hold off on going in."

　　I frowned, my brows furrowing as I stared at him. "And who exactly are you?"

　　"Someone doing you a favor." he said casually as he tilted his head, his gaze fell on my neckline, his lips twitching into a smirk and I tried to not squirm.

　　For someone so beautiful his personality is sure nasty.

　　Before I could reply, he reached out — too fast for me to react — and gently but firmly grabbed my wrist, pulling me a step closer to the door. His cologne was strong and musky.

　　"Listen," he said, his voice low. "Carefully." he whispered those words directly in my ears.

　　I looked at him with a narrowed gaze but he just nodded towards the door. I didn't want to. I already felt a strange knot tightening in my stomach. But I listened anyway.

　　And then I heard it.

　　Moans that felt as if I was invading privacy. I could hear words that didn't seem pure. I knew that voice.

　　James.

　　And then—

　　A woman's voice.

　　"Don't stop…"

　　My breath caught. The air around me vanished. I could not breathe. On the other hand, the mysterious man was smirking at me as if he was enjoying the show while I felt as if ground vanished under my feet.

　　Lila.

　　My adopted sister.

　　I have known Lila all my life and never once did I imagine this from her.

　　I stumbled back, nausea rising in my throat. The stranger — this man — didn't move. He just watched me. Mildly amused.

　　"You're not going to faint, are you?" he asked quietly, his tone unreadable. He sounded so calm it was frightening.

　　I didn't answer. I was too busy trying to keep my heart from shattering right there in the hallway.

　　I could have cried. I could have screamed. But I didn't. I stood straighter. Fixed my expression. Locked everything behind the coldest mask I could manage.

　　I turned to walk away.

　　But he leaned in, his breath brushing the side of my face.

　　"How does it feel?" he murmured. "Knowing your sister got to him first?" he smirked. "Though I must say , she has a bad taste in men."

　　I snapped back to reality, my voice sharp. "Back. Off."

　　He smirked — and in a sudden, startling movement, he pinned me lightly against the lounge door. Not hard. Not threatening. But close. Too close.

　　"What the hell are you—"

　　He twisted the door handle.

　　The door gave way.

　　And I fell forward — straight into the room.

　　Right into the middle of the nightmare.

　　Lila gasped. James cursed. They scrambled, half-dressed, caught like animals in a spotlight.

　　And I stood there — frozen in white silk and humiliation — while the pieces of my life came crashing down around me.