THE BILLIONAIRE'S COLD DEAL

Chapter 1: The Beginning

Samantha POV

"Another glass of alcohol, please."

The words slipped from my lips as my head tilted back helplessly.

"Another..." I smiled faintly, pain slicing straight through me.

They say alcohol heals all wounds, but I guess mine is far too deep for it to touch.

When I look back at my life, I honestly wonder how I ended up this way. Where did that vibrant little girl, full of dreams and hope disappear to? How did my life become a stronger mess with each passing day after the death of my parents?

It's been five fucking years, and I, Samantha Williams still haven't healed.

Somehow, I blame myself for their deaths. If I hadn't insisted on celebrating my birthday at the beach, they wouldn't have gotten into that accident. They wouldn't have died so brutally.

We weren't rich, but we were comfortable and happy. My parents could get me anything I wanted without feeling the weight of it. We never struggled to eat. Food was always in excess, and their little shop was steadily growing.

After their death, I took over the business and worked my ass off to keep it alive. But life was cruel. Two years later, the shop burned to ashes, and since then, my life has been nothing but chaos.

"I said another round of alcohol... or are you deaf?" I smiled sleepily again, jolting back to reality "Why don't you listen? Do I need a microphone to make myself clear?"

I slammed my palm against the table, the loud thud echoing through the club.

"Don't frustrate-"

"Here, ma. Sorry for the delay," the waiter interrupted, placing the glass in front of me.

I looked up at him and smiled weakly.

"That's more like it. Good boy."

"You shouldn't be that loud. This isn't your house." An agitated voice came from behind me.

I turned slowly, surprised by the sudden interruption. The club was always loud, so why was he taking my actions so personally?

"Why would you hit the table that hard?" he continued. "You startled me, and everyone else." A few people nodded in agreement.

The flashing disco lights reflected in my eyes, shutting me mute for a moment. Then anger surged.

"You don't complain about other people's misfortune, you stupid man," I snapped. I wasn't in the mood to take it easy on anyone.

"Excuse me?" he scoffed, standing up. "You're the one in the wrong here, so don't bite more than you can chew." Did he really want a fight?

His face twisted with anger and bitterness, a clear reflection of what lay beneath his heart.

Who did he think he was?

I looked at him briefly before letting out a humorless chuckle.

"So this is what this club is filled with now? Harassment?"

I stood too, my legs shaky but my rage steady. I was ready to land a punch across his face, ready to make him pay for dipping his mouth into things that didn't concern him.

I staggered toward him. But before I could reach him, his palm connected with my face. The slap landed hard.

I crashed to the floor, my body hitting the ground cheaply and pathetically. The crowd erupted into laughter, their gazes piercing straight into my soul.

"What's so funny about another person's misfortune?" I cried, my voice breaking. I hadn't expected the slap. I hadn't expected the humiliation.

"Do you know the pain I carry in my heart?" I screamed at the top of my lungs. "It pierces me every single day!"

"I think she's too drunk. She should go home," a woman said dismissively.

"Young lady, go home. You can't even stand on your own," a man offered, reaching out to help.

I shoved his hand away.

"Fuck off. I don't need your mockery, or your help."

I tried to stand again, but my legs failed me. My chest tightened as memories of what happened this evening came crashing in like an unwanted visitor.

"Take your stinking bags and get the hell out of my house!" my landlord had yelled, throwing my belongings out like trash.

I rushed after him, my body drenched in rain. The rain had seen more of me than comfort ever had.

"You removed my zinc, isn't that enough?" I begged.

He turned to me, his eyes filled with disdain.

"And yet you still stayed here like a rat," he sneered. "I've had enough of you, Samantha. I can't keep putting up with this."

He threw my last bag into the rain.

"Shut the door. Let's see how she gets in," he ordered the hefty men beside him.

I tried to stop them, but I was no match.

"Go get a life, useless slut," he spat before walking away, leaving me alone under the heavy rain.

After minutes of crying under the rain, I knew I had to do something. I picked my bags and hid them behind a trash can before heading to the clubhouse, where I am currently drinking myself to stupor.

I know after now I have to return to the streets, and that alone pierced my heart. I had no family or friends to turn to. I have been living in isolation since my parents death.

As I sat there, drowning in my thoughts, I wished a miracle could happen, something that could change my life for good, but I chuckled. "That only happens in movies." I would definitely return to the streets and live a poor and haggard life.

"Don't you know how to treat a woman?" a deep voice cut through the chaos, snapping me back to the present.

The music in the club stopped abruptly, and silence followed.

The spotlight quickly shifted. And then I saw him.

He was tall, huge, and fearful. He stood firmly, his presence alone forcing the entire room into stillness.

"Adrian Wolfe..." The name rippled through the crowd like a forbidden prayer.

"That's him, the richest and most powerful man in the whole of NYC. I have only seen him on billboards and TV shows. I never knew I would see him in reality," a girl behind me whimpered in pure astonishment.

"That's really him."

"Oh my God..."

Women whispered in awe, their eyes shining with fantasies they didn't even bother hiding.

He stepped forward, his gaze sharp as he looked at the man who had slapped me.

"Are you okay?" His voice was calm, but dangerous as he stared at me. I nodded calmly, unsure on how to behave.

He smiled and turned to the man who has harassed me. He shoved the man aside effortlessly, sending him crashing to the floor.

I stared up at him, my breath caught in my throat. And for the first time that night, the pain paused.

Chapter 2: Meet Me, Your Nightmare

Samantha's POV...

"Are you okay?" he asked, extending his hand toward me.

I hesitated before placing my palm in his. "I'm... fine," I lied, my legs trembling as I stood.

Up close, he was breathtaking. Perfect features. Piercing blue eyes. The kind of man women ruined themselves for without thinking twice.

"You should be careful in places like this," he said calmly, a faint smile curving his lips. "Not everyone here has good intentions."

I smiled weakly, unsure why my heart was suddenly racing.

"I can't believe he's talking to her," a woman whispered nearby. "He never does this."

Her words stung. What did she mean by that? Was I not worth talking to? Or was it because I looked exactly like my misfortune, cheap dress, tired eyes, broken spirit?

Before I could dwell on it, two large men hurried toward us. His bodyguards, obvious even at first glance.

They were dressed in perfectly pressed suits, polished shoes gleaming under the club lights. Nose masks covered their faces, their hair cut low and neat.

"Sir, are you alright?" one asked urgently, rushing toward my savior. "We heard there was trouble."

"I'm fine," Adrian replied.

His tone changed instantly. The calm warmth vanished, replaced by something cold and distant.

"Handle it," he said, turning to the man still lying helplessly on the floor. "And treat him accordingly."

His eyes flickered with an unreadable signal.

I watched as the guards dragged the bleeding man away. Horror, pain, and panic were etched across his face. His eyes begged for mercy, but his lips were too heavy to speak.

What were they going to do to him?

"That's his real personality," someone muttered behind me, snapping me out of my thoughts.

His real personality? The words lodged themselves deep in my mind.

I turned back to Adrian. He was already watching me, his eyes sent deep shivers down my spine.

"I'll be leaving now," he said suddenly, as if I needed to know.

"I'll wait for you in my car. I need to talk to you." His lips curved slightly. "It won't take long."

I glanced around, half-expecting him to be speaking to someone else, despite the fact that his gaze never left mine.

"Sorry... are you talking to me?" I asked in awe.

He didn't answer. He treated my question like a passing breeze, turning away instead. Confidence rolled off him like armor as he walked off.

One of his guards stopped beside me and gestured politely.

"He asked me to escort you, ma'am."

I stood still for a while, unsure of what to do next.

"He's only nice when he wants something" The woman who had warned me earlier was gone, swallowed by the crowd as the music slowly resumed.

I stared after Adrian's retreating figure.

I had nothing to lose anyway. I was a poor, hopeless girl, one bad step away from ending it all, the moment I walked out of this place.

I exhaled slowly and turned to the guard.

"Take me to your boss."

I wasn't sure what I was doing anymore. But I cared less.

The night air felt colder as I followed the bodyguard out of the club. Each step felt like I was walking deeper into something I might never escape.

The crowd behind me blurred into noise, laughter, music, life moving on as if nothing had happened.

The bodyguard stopped in front of a sleek black car.

A black Rolls-Royce Phantom gleamed under the city lights, its silk interior glowing like a midnight sky. The 21-inch wheels looked as though they barely touched the ground, the luxury beast humming with a whisper-quiet V12 engine. It was elegance in motion, the kind that didn't need attention to command it.

"We're here, ma'am," he said, pulling the door open.

My heart skipped as the door swung wide.

Inside the car, Adrian Wolfe sat comfortably, one hand resting on his knee, the other scrolling through his phone. The dim interior light traced his sharp jawline, making him look every bit as powerful as he felt.

He looked up, as though he had been expecting me to follow, and smiled.

But this wasn't the gentle smile from the club. This one was slow, calculated, and dangerous one

"Get in," he said calmly.

My mind screamed you're walking into trouble, but something stronger pulled me forward.

"Relax," he added, as if he could read my thoughts. "If I wanted to hurt you, Samantha, I would've done it already."

My breath hitched. Samantha?

My eyes snapped to his face. "How do you-" He didn't let me finish.

In one swift motion, he pulled me into the car and slammed the door shut. The sound echoed loudly, sealing me inside.

My pulse raced as the car pulled away from the curb.

He leaned closer, studying me like something he already owned.

"Riley," he murmured again, closing the distance until I could feel his breath on my face.

Panic surged through me immediately.

"Who are you?" I demanded, my voice trembling despite my effort to sound strong. "What do you want? You know my name, have you been stalking me?"

"I brought you here because I need something from you," he said calmly, calling my name like it belonged to him.

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.

"Be my wife for six months... and I'll give you everything you've ever wanted."

I stiffened and my eyes widened in shock.

What exactly was he driving at?

Chapter 3: Caught in a Trap

Samantha's POV...

"Be my wife for six months, and I will give you all you ever wish for."

Again, he dismissed my questions like they were nothing but a passing breeze.

"I know everything about you, Samantha," he changed the topic so quickly it unsettled me. "Everything you don't even know about yourself."

I stared at him, my eyes widening in shock.

"I can rewrite your story and give you a brand-new life if you let me," he added casually.

I sat up, struggling to balance the storm of thoughts racing through my mind.

"I..."

No matter how hard I tried, the words refused to leave my lips.

"Answer me, Samantha," he said firmly. "I need to know where you stand. Once you agree, we sign a contract, and that's it."

His words snapped something loose inside me. I let out a hollow chuckle and slowly turned to him.

"I bet you're nothing but a good-for-nothing stalker," I said bitterly. "Tell me...why do you know so much about me? Do you even know if I'm married? If I have kids?"

I scoffed in disbelief, the thoughts spilling out faster than I could control them.

"I've seen this madness in movies. In novels. But never in real life," I hissed. "I may be poor, but I'm not stupid. Contract bride indeed" I glared at him.

"I want you to open this door so I can get out of this damn car and never come near me again. Because if you do, I'll drench you in acid." Lf looks could kill, he would've been dead already. I was stunned by his audacity.

His sudden chuckle caught me off guard.

"If you truly want to leave, I won't stop you, Samantha ," he said calmly. "But don't come begging when you're about to die of sickness."

He smirked. "And remember, your landlord won't take you back."

I froze at his revelation. The weight of his words sank in slowly.

"You know about that?" I asked after a long moment, disbelief coating my voice.

"You think I'd approach you without knowing everything?" he chuckled. "I told you, I know more about you than you know about yourself." A shiver ran down my spine.

"Samantha, you need me, and I need you," he continued. "That's all that matters right now. The ball is in your court. Will you make this work or not?"

He tapped the driver's seat, and his bodyguard handed him a file.

"To prove I'm not here to play games," he said, passing it to me, "this is the contract."

I shot him a sharp glare before taking the document.

"Go through it and tell me if you're fine with the rules," he said calmly.

"I'm not even agreeing to this yet," I snapped, rolling my eyes.

Still, I opened the document and began to read.

A six-month contract between Samantha Williams and Adrian Wolfe, the first page read.

"You even know my full name?" I muttered.

He said nothing.

I returned my attention to the document.

Contract Terms:

1. This marriage shall last for a period of six (6) months from the date of signing.

2. Both parties agree that no emotional attachment or romantic feelings shall develop during the contract period.

3. Physical intimacy is permitted only by mutual consent and shall not imply emotional involvement.

4. Both parties must present themselves as a loving married couple in public and at all official events.

5. Neither party shall interfere in the other's personal life beyond what is required by this contract.

6. The wife shall reside in the husband's residence for the duration of the marriage.

7. Any form of jealousy, possessiveness, or emotional demands is strictly prohibited.

8. The details of this contract and marriage must remain strictly confidential from the public and media.

9. Violation of any rule will result in immediate termination of the contract and financial penalties.

10. Upon expiration of the contract, both parties shall separate peacefully with no further obligations, unless otherwise stated.

"Who even gives someone these kinds of rules..."

The words died in my throat when my eyes landed on the amount listed below.

Mr. Adrian Drew shall offer Miss Samantha Williams a sum of $500 million for a six-month marriage, along with additional benefits.

I blinked in disbelief, not once, not twice but the figures remained the same.

When that didn't work, I pinched myself. Still, the numbers remained.

I looked up at him, then back at the contract.

Then back at him again. I repeated the motion at least six times.

"This couldn't be real" I finally spluttered.

"You're offering me five hundred million dollars to be your wife?"

It still wasn't adding up, no matter how hard I tried to understand it.

"Yes, Samantha. Five hundred million dollars will be yours once you sign this contract and become my wife," he assured me.

"But what about your family? What do they have to say about this?" I asked, my thoughts racing. "I don't even know much about you. How am I supposed to be sure you'll actually give me the money?"

"That's not an issue, Samantha," he replied calmly. "All you have to do is sign the contract. That's all I want. Don't ask questions. Don't be scared of anything. Just do what needs to be done, and that's it."

I sensed urgency in his tone, and it unsettled me. Why was he the one rushing? Shouldn't I be the one hesitating? And why me out of all the women in the world?

I couldn't hold back anymore. "Why me?" I demanded. "Why did you pick me of all people?"

And for the first time, he was the one freezing. It was as though I had asked the deadliest question in the world.

His gaze dropped instantly, and his lips trembled despite his effort to stay composed. Panic flickered across his face, and in that moment, I sensed there was more to this than he was willing to admit.

Still, I wasn't ready to walk away. I wouldn't turn down this offer for anything in the world.

I have nothing to lose like I have said earlier. Walking out of here is me walking into my own dorm, into greater poverty, into depression and I wasn't ready to do that.

I remembered, I have prayed for a miracle in the club and maybe my prayer has finally come to pass.

"Don't bother answering," I said firmly. "Just transfer the money to my account, and I'll sign the contract, just like you want." I was also shocked at my words.

As my words rolled out, I saw it immediately, his panic on his face melted into relief.

"Why did you argue so much if you were going to agree anyway?" he muttered, sinking back into his seat.

"Enter your details into this phone," he said, handing it to me.

I did as instructed.

Before I could even pull my own phone out of my bag, I heard the familiar notification chime.

"Sent," he said calmly.

I wasn't ready to believe him that easily, but staring at my phone, and my breath caught.

$500,000,000 sat boldly in my account, as if it were nothing.

An amount I had never imagined I would see in my lifetime.

"It's time to do your part," Adrian said, snapping me out of my daze.

I nodded and signed the contract without hesitation.

"Now that's what I'm talking about," he said, a smirk curling his lips. "See? That was simple, Riley."

"Now that the contract is signed and sealed, we move straight into business."

I didn't think much of his words, until he suddenly clapped his hands. Before I could react, the bodyguard seated behind us snatched my phone away.

"That's the first rule, Samantha," Adrian said coldly. "You no longer have the right to communicate with anyone from this moment onward. And that shouldn't be a problem...."

His eyes locked onto mine. "-since you have no family. You're an orphan."