Jessica C. Dolan

Being second best is practically in my DNA. My sister got the love, the attention, the spotlight. And now, even her damn fiancé.
Technically, Rhys Granger was my fiancé now—billionaire, devastatingly hot, and a walking Wall Street wet dream. My parents shoved me into the engagement after Catherine disappeared, and honestly? I didn’t mind. I’d crushed on Rhys for years. This was my chance, right? My turn to be the chosen one?
Wrong.
One night, he slapped me. Over a mug. A stupid, chipped, ugly mug my sister gave him years ago. That’s when it hit me—he didn’t love me. He didn’t even see me. I was just a warm-bodied placeholder for the woman he actually wanted. And apparently, I wasn’t even worth as much as a glorified coffee cup.
So I slapped him right back, dumped his ass, and prepared for disaster—my parents losing their minds, Rhys throwing a billionaire tantrum, his terrifying family plotting my untimely demise.
Obviously, I needed alcohol. A lot of alcohol.
Enter him.
Tall, dangerous, unfairly hot. The kind of man who makes you want to sin just by existing. I’d met him only once before, and that night, he just happened to be at the same bar as my drunk, self-pitying self. So I did the only logical thing: I dragged him into a hotel room and ripped off his clothes.
It was reckless. It was stupid. It was completely ill-advised.
But it was also: Best. Sex. Of. My. Life.
And, as it turned out, the best decision I’d ever made.
Because my one-night stand isn’t just some random guy. He’s richer than Rhys, more powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be playing with.
And now, he’s not letting me go.

I Slapped My Fiancé—Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis

The soreness wasn’t that bad anyway, just a slow throb deep in my thighs. Manageable.


After I came out of the bathroom, Ashton was dressed.


Downstairs, I sat at the far end of the dining table, keeping my back straight and movements measured.


Across from me, Ashton leaned on one elbow, watching me.


‘You not eating?’ I asked without looking up. ‘Or are you planning to just stare at me the whole time?’


‘Not hungry.’ He added, ‘Slow down. No one’s taking it from you.’


I abandoned the spoon, lifted the soup bowl, drank half, then put it down and pressed a hand to my stomach. ‘I’m full.’


‘So you’ve got your strength back, then?’


The words caught in my throat. I almost bit my tongue.


He smiled. ‘Good. Time to pick up where we left off last night.’


‘I wasn’t aware it was a marathon.’ I shot to my feet. ‘I’m going to the studio.’


‘It’s your day off. And it’s nearly three.’


Chapter 220 Make up for Lost Time