My Stranger Husband Is A Hidden Zillionaire

Brook slammed her weight against the heavy brass doors of the King County Administration Building.

The polished marble floor offered zero traction. Her right heel snapped with a sickening crack. She stumbled, her knee slamming into the hard stone, sending a shockwave of pain up her thigh.

She didn't stop.

She kicked off the broken shoe, her bare foot slapping against the freezing marble as she scrambled forward. Her lungs burned. Every breath tasted like copper.

"Where is that little bitch?"

The shrill, grating voice of her adoptive mother, Bobbi, echoed through the cavernous hallway behind her.

Then came the laugh. A low, wet, guttural sound that made the hair on the back of Brook's neck stand up. Travis Boggs. The loan shark. The man Bobbi was selling her to today.

Brook's hands shook so violently she could barely grip her phone. She unlocked the screen. Her thumb smeared sweat across the glass as she pulled up the text from her apartment manager, Brenda.

His name is Kevin Parrish. He's waiting by the registry window.

Below the text was a photo. It was blurry, taken from a distance. Just a broad set of shoulders in a dark suit, dark hair, standing near a pillar.

Brook looked up. Her chest heaved.

Ten yards away, standing in front of the marriage registry window, was a man in a dark, tailored suit. His back was to her. Dark hair. Broad shoulders. He looked exactly like the blurry pixels on her screen.

Footsteps pounded against the marble near the entrance. Bobbi was asking the security guard if he had seen a redhead.

Brook's stomach dropped. She had no time.

She lunged forward. Her bare foot slipped slightly, but she caught herself, crashing into the man's solid back. She grabbed the sleeve of his suit jacket. The fabric was impossibly soft, but she squeezed it like a lifeline.

The man turned.

Brook's breath hitched. He had a sharp, angular jaw and eyes the color of a winter storm. He didn't look like a Kevin. He looked dangerous. He looked annoyed.

Julian Cardenas IV stared down at the trembling, sweating girl clutching his arm. His jaw tightened.

"Are you Kevin?" Brook's voice cracked. Her fingernails dug into his sleeve. "Please. Marry me."

Julian's eyes narrowed. He was only standing in this miserable building to figure out a legal loophole to avoid the corporate merger marriage his grandfather, Cornelius, had arranged for him this afternoon.

He needed a wife. Immediately.

"Are you a legal adult?" Julian's voice was a low, flat rumble. It sent a strange vibration through Brook's fingertips.

Brook nodded frantically. She fumbled with her cheap purse, ripping her driver's license out and shoving it against his chest.

"There she is!" Bobbi's screech pierced the air.

Brook flinched. The blood drained from her face, leaving her skin the color of ash. Her knees buckled slightly.

Julian looked at the sheer, unadulterated terror in her eyes. He had seen people fake fear for money. This wasn't fake. This was survival. It was the most honest thing he had seen in years.

He looked from the sheer terror in her eyes to the screeching woman echoing at the end of the hall. A problem. And his own problem with Cornelius needed a solution this afternoon. Two problems, one ridiculous, highly improbable solution. He made a split-second calculation.

He turned his head toward the clerk behind the glass.

"We need the forms," Julian said.

Brook froze. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.

Julian took the clipboard from the clerk. He pulled a heavy silver pen from his inside pocket, scrawled his name across the top line, and shoved the board into Brook's hands.

"Sign," he ordered.

Brook's hand trembled so badly the pen rattled against the metal clip. She pressed the tip to the paper and forced her fingers to move, tracing out Brook Owens.

The clerk asked the standard questions. Julian answered with a cold, mechanical precision. Brook just nodded, her eyes darting toward the hallway.

Thump.

The heavy metal stamp hit the paper.

Julian picked up the marriage certificate. He stared at the name printed next to his. Brook Owens.

The double doors of the registry office flew open. Bobbi and Travis stormed in, their faces red with exertion.

Brook shrank back, a whimper dying in her throat.

Julian shifted his weight. He stepped smoothly in front of Brook, his broad shoulders completely blocking her from their view. He reached back, his large, warm hand wrapping around her freezing fingers.

"Let's go," Julian muttered.

He pulled her toward the side exit, his long strides forcing Brook to jog to keep up. The heavy fire door slammed shut behind them, cutting off Bobbi's voice entirely.

The biting Seattle wind hit Brook the second they stepped onto the concrete stairs outside the side exit. She shivered, her bare foot curling against the freezing pavement.

Julian let go of her hand.

The sudden absence of his body heat made Brook's stomach hollow out. She wrapped her arms around her ribs.

"This is just a transaction," Julian said. His voice was stripped of any warmth. He adjusted the cuffs of his suit. "I shielded you from your problem. You shielded me from an arranged marriage."

Brook nodded slowly. Her brain was still trying to process the adrenaline crash. "How do we-"

Julian's phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out. The screen flashed with his colleague's name: Jaylin.

He swiped to answer, immediately pressing the phone tight against his ear, stepping slightly away so the biting wind would mask the sound. "Speak."

"Julian, you missed the afternoon meeting with the Carrillo team," Jaylin's panicked voice buzzed faintly against Julian's ear, completely inaudible to Brook. "The old man is threatening to pull your project funding."

Julian let out a harsh breath through his nose. "Tell my grandfather I'm already married."

Brook's chest tightened. The finality of the word married hit her like a physical blow.

Before she could process it, her own phone started buzzing in her cheap purse. She dug it out. It was Brenda.

Brook answered, pressing the phone hard against her ear. "Brenda?"

"Brook, where the hell are you?" Brenda sounded out of breath. "Kevin has been sitting in the lobby of the apartment building for an hour!"

The cold wind seemed to stop. Brook's lungs seized.

"Kevin is at the apartment?" Brook whispered. Her throat felt like it was lined with sandpaper.

"Yes! The guy I set you up with. He never went to City Hall!"

Brook's phone slipped from her ear. She turned her head slowly.

The man standing next to her was looking down at his phone, his thumb swiping across the screen with bored precision.

"You aren't Kevin Parrish," Brook said. Her voice shook so hard the words barely formed.

Julian looked up. His grey eyes locked onto hers. He didn't look surprised.

"I never said I was Kevin," he replied smoothly.

"Then who are you?" Brook's vision blurred at the edges. She gripped the metal handrail to keep from falling.

"Julian Cardenas IV."

He said it without a title. Just a name.

Brook searched her panicked brain. The name meant absolutely nothing to her. She had just legally bound herself to a total stranger. A stranger who wasn't her blind date.

Julian watched her face. He waited for the flash of recognition. The widening of the eyes that always came when women realized they were standing in front of the CEO of Cardenas Consolidated.

Nothing. Just pure, unadulterated panic.

"Do we need to get an annulment?" Julian asked. The words tasted strange in his mouth. He didn't want an annulment. He needed this piece of paper to keep his grandfather away.

Brook thought of Travis Boggs. She thought of his wet laugh and the way he looked at her like a piece of meat. If she annulled this, she had no legal protection. She would be dragged back to hell.

She forced her jaw to unclench. She shook her head.

"No," Brook whispered. "No annulment."

The corner of Julian's mouth twitched upward for a fraction of a second. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a standard-issue corporate business card, and held it out to her. It read Julian Cardenas, Project Manager in a crisp, unremarkable font.

"Call me tomorrow," he said.

He turned and walked down the stairs, leaving Brook standing alone in the freezing wind.

Brook pushed open the door to her apartment. The hinges screamed.

The smell of damp drywall and stale cigarettes hit her instantly. She locked the deadbolt, slid the chain into place, and leaned her forehead against the peeling paint of the door.

She walked to the tiny kitchen table and dropped the white corporate card onto the scratched laminate.

Julian Cardenas IV.

Project Manager. The Cardenas Consolidated logo sat in the corner next to a phone number.

Her phone vibrated on the table, rattling against the wood. The caller ID said Tammy.

Brook snatched it up. "Tammy?"

"Brook, did you get away?" Tammy's voice was a harsh, terrified whisper.

"I got married, Tammy," Brook said. She sank into the wobbly kitchen chair. "I did it."

Silence stretched over the line. Then, the sound of a muffled sob broke through the speaker.

"It's too late, Brook," Tammy cried. Her voice cracked with panic. "Dad already took the deposit from Travis."

Brook's stomach violently cramped. She doubled over slightly, pressing her free hand against her abdomen.

"Fifty thousand dollars," Tammy choked out. "They're going to sell you to him, Brook. Mom said if you don't come back, she's going to hunt you down and make your life a living hell until you beg to marry Travis."

Bobbi's twisted, furious face flashed in Brook's mind. The memory of Bobbi's heavy rings striking her cheek made her skin burn.

Brook looked down at the corporate business card.

Julian was a stranger. But he was a stranger who had stood between her and Bobbi. He was a legal shield.

"I'm not coming back, Tammy," Brook said. Her voice dropped an octave, hardening into something brittle and sharp. "I am legally married. They can't force me to do anything."

"Who is he?" Tammy asked. "Is he safe?"

Brook closed her eyes. She remembered the solid wall of Julian's chest. The calm, cold way he handled the clerk.

"His name is Julian. That's all I know."

"Just... be careful, Brook. Please."

The line went dead.

Brook dropped the phone. She couldn't stay here. Bobbi had the address. Travis had the address.

She picked up her phone again, opened a new text message, and typed in the number from the corporate card.

Mr. Cardenas, this is Brook. When can we discuss the living arrangements for this marriage?

She hit send. Her heart hammered against her ribs.

Three seconds later, a reply popped up.

I'll come get you at 9 AM tomorrow. Be ready.

Brook stared at the glowing screen. She didn't know what she was walking into. But as the Seattle rain began to lash against her cracked window, she pulled her knees to her chest and felt a tiny, fragile spark of hope.