CLAIMED BY THE BILLIONAIRE

Chapter 1

Raymond's POV

They call me ruthless. Calculating. The devil in a custom suit.

It's all true. I've earned those titles and wear them like armor. Every deal, every victory, every enemy crushed beneath my polished shoes-each one has built this reputation. But as I sit at the head of the boardroom table, staring at the morning's entertainment on the projector screen-a recording of Ariana's aunt spinning her absurd story-I feel something unusual.

Amusement.

No one has ever dared something this desperate with me. Forcing a pregnancy scandal? Laughable. I have no interest in women-none. They're deceitful, dangerous, and endlessly calculating in their games of manipulation. I've spent my life ensuring I never fall into their traps. Or so I thought.

"She's bold," I mutter, leaning back in my chair as the video replays. Ariana's aunt, crocodile tears streaming, accuses me of ruining her precious niece's life. The headlines plastered beneath the footage scream: City's Most Feared Bachelor Caught in Scandalous Affair.

"Shall we address this in court, Mr. Ray?" Simon, my head of legal, asks, his tone careful, as though he's walking on glass. He adjusts his tie, avoiding my gaze. He knows better than to look me in the eye when I'm in this kind of mood.

"No." I steeple my fingers, my eyes fixed on the freeze-frame of the aunt's overly dramatic face. "We won't waste time with lawyers."

"Should I arrange for... a visit?" Simon ventures, his voice low and deliberate.

A faint smirk tugs at the corner of my lips. "Not yet."

The room falls into tense silence. No one dares to speak out of turn, knowing how thin the ice is under them. But my mind isn't on the aunt or her ridiculous lies-it's on the girl at the center of this mess. Ariana.

I don't recall ever meeting her, but the tabloids have plastered her face everywhere. Wide, frightened eyes. A quiet, undeniable beauty. She looks like someone who doesn't belong in my world, someone who couldn't survive even a day in it.

And yet, here she is.

"Sir?" Simon prods, clearly unnerved by my silence.

"She lied," I say softly, my tone sharp enough to cut glass. "But not convincingly enough to bother me." I pause, letting the tension hang in the air before adding, "That doesn't mean I'll let it slide."

Simon clears his throat, his brow furrowed. "What's the plan, then?"

I stand, straightening my cuffs with deliberate precision. "Marriage."

Simon chokes on his coffee. "Excuse me?"

"Marriage," I repeat, savoring the weight of the word. "Announce it publicly. Tell the media I've claimed responsibility and that the wedding is imminent."

"But... why?" Simon blurts, his professional mask slipping for the first time. "You don't even know this girl."

"Exactly," I say, my smirk widening. "I don't know her, but I will. And when I do, I'll make sure she regrets letting her aunt drag me into this charade."

Simon frowns, crossing his arms in a rare display of defiance. "And if she's just another pawn?"

"She's not just a pawn," I say, my tone hardening. "She's going to be useful.

Simon raises an eyebrow, waiting for me to elaborate.

"Do you think I don't hear the whispers in the boardroom?" I ask, my voice cold. "The questions about my personal life? They've been circling like vultures for months, pressuring me to settle down. Marrying this girl kills two birds with one stone."

Simon exhales sharply, realization dawning. "You're using her to shut them up."

"Precisely," I say, my smirk returning. "This scandal plays right into my hands. By marrying Ariana, I silence the board and take control of the narrative."

"And if she doesn't cooperate?"

"She will," I reply firmly. "She doesn't have a choice."

Simon still looks skeptical but nods. "Understood."

"I want the wedding tomorrow," I add, my tone leaving no room for debate.

Simon freezes mid-step, turning to look at me as though I've gone mad. "Tomorrow? That's..." He falters.

"I hate delays," I say, already heading for the door.

As I make my way to the parking lot, I can feel the whispers of my staff trailing behind me like shadows. Let them talk. Let them speculate. None of it matters.

I drive through the city, the familiar streets passing in a blur. My mind races with the details of what needs to happen next. By the time I arrive home, the plan is crystal clear.

Dinner is waiting when I step inside, but I barely taste it. The maids hover in the background, whispering amongst themselves. It's always the same: fear and curiosity. They've learned to keep their distance, but I can feel their eyes on me.

After dinner, I head to my room, loosening my tie as I go. Stripping down to my undershirt, I collapse onto the bed.

Tomorrow will be a long day.

Tomorrow, I get married.

I pick up my phone and send a text to the handful of people who need to be there. No big wedding. Keep it simple. Attendance mandatory.

The message is cold, clinical, and leaves no room for excuses.

As I set the phone down, my thoughts wander back to Ariana. Her image has been burned into my mind since the moment I saw it. Those wide eyes, that hint of fear-she's different. And I don't know why that bothers me.

But it doesn't matter.

This isn't about her. It's about me. My power. My reputation. She has to pay the price of making fake reports about me.

What did she think? Just ruined my reputation and walk away.

No! Things aren't done like that, especially in my world.

Tomorrow, I'll take what I want. And she'll have no choice but to fall in line.

Chapter 2

Ariana's POV

Walking down the red carpet has always been my dream. But not like this-forced into a marriage I never wanted, to a man everyone hates. A man I once met, my worst nightmare.

I sat before the mirror, staring at my reflection as they applied makeup to my face. I was supposed to be happy, but all I felt was an unbearable sadness.

I sat there, numb, unable to think of a way out. It wasn't as if escaping was possible. Still, I clung to a faint, foolish hope that something might save me.

I'm in this mess because of my aunt's greed.

"It's done," the makeup artist announced, her voice devoid of sympathy.

"Can I be alone?" I asked, even though I knew they wouldn't leave. They had been instructed not to let me out of their sight.

"We can't leave you, ma'am," the woman replied stiffly.

"I just need a little time to myself. Please," I pleaded, locking eyes with her, silently begging her to grant me this small mercy.

To my surprise, she relented and walked out of the room.

The moment the door clicked shut, I jumped to my feet and hurried to the window, peering outside. I scanned for anyone-any way to escape-but my heart sank when I realized there was no way out.

Before I could do more, the door creaked open, and there he stood. Raymond.

"Trying to escape?" he asked, his cold eyes narrowing as he stepped into the room.

I instinctively backed away until my back hit the wall. There was no escaping now.

"Don't even think about it, darling," he said, emphasizing the word with a mocking edge.

"You can't get away from me. There's no place in this city you can hide. The whole of New York belongs to me. So, tell me, how exactly do you plan to escape?"

He smirked, his expression taunting me.

"Don't you want to marry me? Aren't you the one carrying my child?" His voice dripped with sarcasm.

I opened my mouth to protest, but he silenced me by placing a finger on my lips.

"Shhh. You don't get to speak. You'll do as I say. You'll get what you want. But don't try to escape again. Don't make me angry." His voice turned icy, sending a shiver down my spine.

He leaned closer, his breath warm against my ear.

"You don't want to see me angry, do you?" he whispered.

Then, as abruptly as he had come in, he walked toward the door.

"Everyone is waiting for the bride. Don't keep me waiting, darling," he said with a twisted smile before disappearing.

I sank back into the chair, letting the tears I'd been holding in spill freely. They rolled down my cheeks, smudging the makeup.

I never wanted this.

This is my story.

My name is Ariana.

I lost both my parents in a car accident when I was 15 years old-a day I wish I could erase from my memory. That day haunts me because I was the cause of the accident. Ever since then, I've lived with my aunt, a woman who would do anything for money.

She's the one who dragged me into this nightmare. She forged a fake pregnancy report and told everyone I was carrying Raymond's child. She claimed he was refusing to take responsibility.

The truth? I had only met Raymond once. It was when I was working at a bar. I accidentally spilled a drink on him, and that brief encounter was the extent of our interaction.

We had nothing between us. Not even a conversation, let alone a relationship or a pregnancy.

Yet, here I was, forced to marry the most dangerous man in the city because of my aunt's lies. And now, there was no escape.

I was still lost in thought when the door opened, revealing the makeup artists. They gasped as soon as they saw my tear-streaked face.

"Your makeup is ruined," one of them said, her voice laced with concern. Without waiting for a response, they hurried over and began retouching it, their hands moving swiftly as if to erase any evidence of my despair.

Before they could finish, my aunt swept into the room, her dramatic presence filling the space.

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed, clutching her chest as if she were the one overwhelmed.

"They're waiting for you outside," she added, her tone impatient. Without waiting for me to respond, she reached for my arm and helped me up from the chair, steering me toward the door like a doll she was dressing for display.

The ceremony was a blur. My heart pounded in my chest as I walked down the aisle, every step feeling like I was marching toward my doom.

The guests whispered among themselves, their eyes full of judgment and curiosity. I could hear snippets of their murmurs:

"She's so lucky to marry Raymond Ray."

"Does she even know what she's getting into?"

"She doesn't look happy. Who would be?"

I wanted to scream that this wasn't my choice, that I didn't want this life. But I kept my head down, clutching the bouquet tightly, trying to stop my trembling hands.

When I reached the altar, Raymond was standing there, his face expressionless. He looked at me with those cold, piercing eyes that seemed to see right through me.

"You look beautiful, darling," he said softly, his voice laced with mockery.

I didn't respond. I couldn't. My throat was dry, and the weight of the situation pressed down on me like a boulder.

The officiant began the ceremony, and every word felt surreal. My mind screamed for me to run, but my body was frozen. When it came time for Raymond to say his vows, his words were sharp and deliberate, like he was delivering a warning instead of a promise.

"I, Raymond Ray, take you, Ariana, to be my wife. To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer... until death do us part."

He locked eyes with me on the last words, a cruel smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. My heart sank. He meant every word.

When it was my turn to speak, my voice was barely a whisper.

"I... I do."

The guests erupted into applause, but all I heard was the sound of my life shattering into pieces

After the ceremony, Raymond wasted no time asserting his control.

The reception was grand, filled with people I didn't know and didn't care to meet. Raymond stood by my side, his hand resting possessively on my lower back. Every time someone congratulated us, he would flash them a charming smile, as if this was a love story and not the twisted nightmare it truly was.

Chapter 3

Ariana's POV

After Raymond greeted everyone, he grabbed my hand and led me toward the parked car. My aunt suddenly rushed over, blocking my path and pulling me into a suffocating hug.

"You see? If not for me, you wouldn't be here. You should be grateful," she said, her voice dripping with satisfaction.

Her words made my stomach twist in disgust.

"Of course," I replied bitterly, glaring at her. "If not for you, I wouldn't be walking straight into the lion's den."

I shoved her arms off me and turned away, refusing to let her touch me any longer. Without another glance, I climbed into the car.

The driver ignited the engine, and the soft hum filled the tense silence. I sank into the seat, my hands clenched into fists as the car began to pull away, leaving my aunt-and the life I once knew-behind.

The ride to Raymond's mansion was silent, suffocating even. The car felt more like a prison cell, with Raymond sitting next to me, his gaze fixed on his phone. I stole glances at him, wondering how a man could look so calm and indifferent while shattering someone's life.

When we arrived at his estate-no, my new home-my stomach churned. The massive gates creaked open, revealing a towering mansion that loomed like a dark castle. I gripped the folds of my wedding dress tightly as Raymond stepped out first, his demeanor as cold as ever.

"Come on," he said without looking at me.

I hesitated before stepping out, my heels clicking softly against the marble driveway. As soon as I entered the mansion, I was greeted by opulence-chandeliers that glittered like stars, expensive paintings that lined the walls, and a staircase that twisted upward like a snake.

I couldn't admire it. My heart was pounding too hard.

Raymond turned to me, his expression devoid of warmth. "Follow me."

I obeyed, my feet dragging beneath me. He led me to a grand bedroom-our room. The walls were dark, the furnishings sleek and cold, a perfect reflection of the man standing before me.

"This is where you'll sleep," he said simply, before his expression turned cruel. "Welcome to your new life."

He turned on his heel to leave, but I couldn't stop myself. "Why are you doing this?" I blurted out. My voice was small, shaking, but I couldn't hold the question in any longer.

Raymond paused, his back to me. Then he turned, walking toward me slowly. Each step he took made me shrink back, until my back hit the edge of the bed.

"Doing what?" he asked, his tone mockingly soft, his face just inches from mine. "You're my wife, Ariana. Isn't this what you wanted?"

"No!" I shot back, my voice trembling with anger and fear. "You know I never wanted this. I never asked for any of it!"

Raymond's smirk faded in an instant. His hand shot out, grabbing my chin roughly and forcing me to look at him. My heart hammered in my chest.

"Listen to me very carefully," he said, his voice low and menacing. "You belong to me now. Do you understand? You'll do what I say, when I say it. You will not question me, you will not disobey me, and you will not humiliate me. If you do..."

He let the threat hang in the air, his grip tightening painfully before he finally let go. I stumbled back, gasping for breath, tears stinging my eyes.

"I suggest you get used to this," he added coldly before walking out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

I sank to the floor, my body trembling uncontrollably. My throat felt tight as the sobs broke free, echoing through the empty, lifeless room.

I had known this marriage would be a nightmare, but I hadn't expected the cruelty to start so soon. I wiped my tears, my hands shaking as I looked around the luxurious room that felt more like a cage.

"Pull yourself together," I whispered to myself. But even as I said it, I knew surviving Raymond Ray would be the hardest thing I'd ever do.

That night, I couldn't sleep. Every sound in the massive mansion made me flinch. I stayed curled up in a corner of the bed, staring at the door, afraid that he would come back.

Just as I was about to close my eyes, Raymond walked in, already changed into fresh clothes.

I quickly sat up on the bed, pulling the blanket tightly around me, trying to cover myself.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.

Raymond's lips curled into a smirk as he turned to lock the door. "What do you think I'm doing here?" he replied, his tone low and teasing. "Isn't it obvious? What do husbands and wives do on their wedding night?"

I swallowed hard, my fingers gripping the blanket as if it were a shield. My heart raced, a mix of confusion and defiance bubbling inside me.

"That's not happening," I said firmly, trying to keep my voice steady. "I'm not... I'm not ready for this."

Raymond paused, his smirk fading slightly as his gaze lingered on me. "Not ready?" he repeated, his voice calmer but laced with curiosity. "You're my wife now. You knew this was part of the deal."

I looked away, staring at the floor, my breaths quick and shallow. "I don't care what the 'deal' is. I didn't agree to this."

Raymond sighed and ran a hand through his hair, frustration flickering across his face. "You really don't make things easy, do you?" he muttered, almost to himself.

"And I'm not going to," I shot back, finally looking him in the eye. "If you thought marrying me meant you'd get to control me, you were dead wrong."

A silence fell over the room, thick and heavy. Raymond stood there for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, to my surprise, he chuckled softly.

I thought he would walk away, but instead, he started moving closer to me, pulling off his shirt.

I squeezed my eyes shut, my heart pounding in my chest.

This isn't happening... right? He won't do what I'm thinking.