AngelLily

(Warning, rated 18, No Rape) 
 
Harley is a twenty-two year old unwanted daughter of a millionaire businessman, nothing short of a troublemaker to get back at her cruel father. 

When a risky contract arises between her father and the Billionaire Sylus Jones, she is forced into a trial marriage with Sylus—a man who is both an enemy and, strangely, a charm.  

A kind of dislike, hatred, and the need to destroy each other while aware the contract is on the line burns between these two. However, provoking a man like Sylus is probably not the best idea…or the safest. But then again, Harley Legan Eun-kyung has never been good at playing it safe. Things begin to get a lot more complicated when this marriage is unfortunately made public against their initial agreement and plans. 

Can these two keep in mind that this marriage is nothing short of a facade that will end in two months? 
Probably not. But how will they survive this trial marriage when there's nothing to like about each other? When all they do is bicker and fight, hating everything about each other? How will they learn to live with each other? And how will they learn to deal with the burning desire—the flickering need, that had ignited between the two of them, one that proved hard to overlook? 

Each is what the other desires. But each is also what the other hates. 

The Billionaire’s Trial Wife

My eyes were fixated on her sleeping form, staring and unable to trail off. They raked over Harley in an involuntary motion, my chest tightening at every turn on the bed she did.

I hadn't meant to go all mad at her last night; I just...lost my mind for a moment. That was the damn Olive she'd mentioned before, and seeing the way he looked at her like she somewhat belonged to him, drove me mad. Who did he think he was?

Harley was mine, no matter how wrong it was. Or crazy. Harley was just mine. She owned me, but she just didn't know it yet.

"You grumpy douche, why are you always watching me each time I wake up?" Harley suddenly sat up on the bed, adorably rubbing her eyes with her fisted hand. I relaxed where I sat on the one-man sofa, one leg draped over the other and a cup of coffee in my hand.

"I was counting your lashes, does that help?"

"Of course it doesn't!" She made a disgusted face at me. "That sounds even creepier."

SYLUS: It’s Stacy