The Billionaire's Unexpected Contract Wife

Regina Daniels stood behind the counter of her family's bakery, her fingers dusted with flour, and her heart pounding to a rhythm of worry. The familiar scent of vanilla and cinnamon wafted through the air, masking the sour taste of dread in her mouth. The bakery, Sweet Haven, had been her mother's dream - and now, it was one invoice away from becoming a memory.

"Regina," came the voice of Mr. Kemp, their landlord, his bulky frame blocking the sunlight as he pushed open the door. "You've got until Friday."

She nodded, barely able to meet his gaze. "I understand."

He grunted and left as quickly as he'd entered. It wasn't personal - business never was. But it didn't stop her chest from tightening like a vice. They were three months behind on rent. Suppliers were threatening to cut them off. And the bank had already sent its final warning.

"I'll figure it out," she muttered to herself, wiping her hands on her apron.

But deep down, Regina wasn't so sure.

She hadn't told her younger sister, Ava, just how bad things were. After their parents passed away in a car accident two years ago, Regina had stepped up to keep the bakery alive, pouring every dollar she had into it. She worked fourteen-hour days, skipped meals, and ignored every personal need just to keep the ovens running.

But sometimes, love wasn't enough to save something.

And then fate walked through the door - wearing a thousand-dollar suit and sunglasses that probably cost more than her car.

He was tall, with broad shoulders and a presence that silenced the room. The air around him shifted as he approached the counter, people parting instinctively. His face was cut from sharp lines and pure indifference. But his eyes-behind the sleek sunglasses-were locked on her.

"Regina Daniels?" he asked, his voice deep, smooth, and unmistakably authoritative.

She blinked. "Yes. Can I help you?"

"I'm here on behalf of Frank Collier."

She stilled.

The name hit her like a wave of cold water. Frank Collier - billionaire CEO of Collier International. Ruthless dealmaker. Media darling. A man who built an empire with no apologies. And for some reason, he was sending a representative to her struggling bakery?

"Sorry," she said slowly, "but I think you've got the wrong Regina Daniels."

He pulled an envelope from his inside pocket and placed it gently on the counter. "I assure you, we don't."

Regina hesitated, then opened the envelope. Inside was a simple, elegant letter printed on thick paper. Her eyes scanned the words, her brow furrowing with every line.

Miss Daniels,

I require your presence for a private business proposition. One that will be mutually beneficial. I can offer compensation that will resolve your financial situation permanently.

Details are too sensitive for a public discussion. You'll find a car waiting outside. If you choose to join me, I promise you won't regret it.

- Frank Collier

She looked up, stunned. "Is this some kind of joke?"

The man - his name tag read Eliot - shook his head. "The offer is real. Mr. Collier does not joke."

"And he wants to meet me? Why?"

"He'll explain everything himself."

Regina's instincts screamed at her to say no. But her bank account... and the look in Ava's eyes when she asked if everything was going to be okay... said otherwise.

She took off her apron and tossed it aside.

"I'll go," she said, voice steady. "But I'm not agreeing to anything until I know what this is."

The car waiting outside was a black Bentley with tinted windows and plush leather seats. Eliot opened the door for her, and she slid in, still unsure if she was walking into a dream or a trap.

They drove through the city, past towering buildings and gleaming skyscrapers, until they pulled into a private driveway guarded by men in suits. The mansion that awaited her looked like it belonged in a movie - all glass, steel, and impossible elegance.

Inside, everything gleamed. Marble floors, minimalist décor, and silence - the kind only money could buy.

Frank Collier was standing by the window when she entered, his back to her, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He turned slowly, his gaze falling on her like a blade.

And for a moment, Regina forgot to breathe.

He was even more intimidating up close. Tall, broad-shouldered, with piercing gray eyes that held zero warmth. But what struck her most wasn't his power - it was his loneliness. He looked like a man who had everything, yet trusted no one.

"Miss Daniels," he said, motioning for her to sit. "Thank you for coming."

Regina remained standing. "You didn't give me much of a choice."

He gave a half-smile - the kind that didn't reach his eyes. "I find people rarely say no to money. Especially when they're about to lose everything."

Her spine stiffened. "Did you bring me here to insult me?"

"No." He set his glass down. "I brought you here to offer you a solution."

"To what?"

"To your financial ruin. I know about the bakery. About the overdue rent. The missed supplier payments. You need money, Miss Daniels. I have more than I know what to do with."

She crossed her arms. "What do you want in return?"

He walked toward her, each step deliberate. "I need a wife."

The silence that followed was deafening.

"A... what?" she asked, incredulous.

"A wife," he repeated. "For one year. Public appearances. Events. A signature on a marriage certificate. Nothing more."

"Why?"

He studied her. "My company is finalizing a merger. The board prefers a CEO with a stable personal life. Investors get jumpy when they think their golden boy is emotionally unavailable. A marriage - even a fake one - settles nerves."

Regina laughed bitterly. "You want me to pretend to be your wife for a year?"

"I'll pay you five million dollars."

Her breath caught.

"I'm sorry... what?"

"Five million," he said again, his voice calm. "Half up front. Half when the year ends."

Regina swayed slightly, her thoughts spiraling.

Five million. That would save the bakery. Pay for Ava's college. Give them a fresh start. She could open a second shop. Live without the constant pressure of scraping by.

But marry a stranger? For money?

"You'll live here," he continued. "We'll attend events together. Smile for cameras. No actual relationship expectations. No bedroom obligations."

Her eyes narrowed. "So I'm your prop."

"My partner," he corrected. "On paper only."

Regina paced, her mind reeling. "Why me?"

Frank leaned back against the desk, folding his arms. "Because you're ordinary."

She blinked. "Excuse me?"

"I don't mean it as an insult. You're not in the tabloids. You're not chasing fame or social climbing. You're grounded. Real. People will believe you married me for love."

She let out a shaky breath. "And what if I say no?"

"Then I find someone else," he said simply. "But I'll be honest - you're the first woman I've considered for this. And the only one I think can pull it off."

Regina turned away, staring at the glass wall that overlooked the city skyline. Her hands trembled. Her heart thundered. This was madness.

And yet... what did she really have to lose?

"Can I think about it?" she asked softly.

Frank's voice was calm. "Take forty-eight hours. But I suggest you don't take too long."

She turned back to face him. "Why?"

"Because life-changing offers don't stay on the table forever."

Two days later, Regina signed the contract.

And two weeks later, she became Mrs. Regina Collier.

Not for love. Not for fairy tales.

But for survival.

And in doing so, she stepped into a world of ruthless billionaires, brutal headlines, and a man who kept his heart under lock and key. She thought it would be simple. She had no idea how wrong she was.

---

Two days later, Regina signed the contract. And it felt nothing like she thought it would. The pen had barely lifted off the final signature line when Frank closed the folder, snapped it shut with a click that echoed louder than it should have in the quiet room, and slid it into his briefcase like they hadn't just made a deal that would tie them together for the next twelve months.

"Welcome to the Collier family, Regina," he said smoothly, rising to his feet.

She nodded stiffly, her fingers clenched in her lap. "So... what now? Is there a script I follow? A crash course in how to be your picture-perfect wife?"

He smirked, amused. "We'll ease you in. Eliot will help you with wardrobe, etiquette, and appearances. You'll move into the penthouse by the weekend. We'll have a quiet courthouse ceremony-press release will follow within twenty-four hours."

Her stomach flipped. "No wedding?"

Frank's jaw tensed, almost imperceptibly. "The fewer people involved, the cleaner it is. Unless you want the media circus."

"No," she muttered. "Clean is fine."

"Good." He adjusted his cufflinks. "I don't expect you to change who you are, Regina. I chose you because you're not afraid to speak your mind. Just don't embarrass me."

"Right," she said dryly. "I'll make sure to leave the apron and flour behind."

To her surprise, Frank's lips twitched - not quite a smile, but the closest she'd seen yet.

"Be ready Monday. We're hosting a dinner with my legal team. It'll be your first official appearance as Mrs. Collier."

She blinked. "You're throwing me to the wolves already?"

"It's the deep end, or nothing," he said, walking past her toward the elevator. "And you strike me as someone who knows how to swim."

He didn't wait for her response. The doors closed behind him with a soft ding, leaving Regina alone in the sleek, intimidating office that now tethered her to a man with enough money to buy the world-and enough coldness to freeze it over.

---

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Eliot handed her an itinerary, a thick stack of documents that included a confidentiality agreement, a schedule for fittings, and a strict set of rules for public conduct.

She read every word twice.

Rule #3: No unsanctioned interviews or statements to the press.

Rule #5: Physical displays of affection at public events are encouraged but not required.

Rule #8: Personal romantic relationships during the contract period are prohibited.

Regina exhaled and dropped the packet onto her worn kitchen table back at the bakery apartment that night. Ava was curled up on the couch, unaware of the chaos that now sat in the room like an invisible storm.

She stared at the final page of the contract.

Her name.

His name.

Tied together by ink and desperation.

She was about to fake an entire marriage.

What would Mom and Dad say?

Would they be proud? Disappointed? Would they understand that she wasn't doing this out of greed- but out of survival?

Regina looked over at Ava and whispered, "This is for you."

---

Two weeks later...

The courthouse was cold, gray, and mercifully empty.

Regina wore a simple white dress - sleek, fitted, modest. Frank stood beside her in a tailored navy suit, every inch the composed businessman. The judge didn't ask questions. The paperwork was filed in under ten minutes.

No flowers. No friends. No kiss.

Just a ring slid onto her finger by a man who looked like he hadn't believed in love a day in his life.

"You sure about this?" the judge asked, eyeing Regina.

She nodded once. "Yes."

Frank didn't flinch.

They walked out of the courthouse and straight into a black SUV. Photographers were already waiting - tipped off by someone, no doubt. Regina slipped her hand into Frank's on instinct, and his fingers closed around hers like a well-practiced move.

Flashbulbs popped.

"Mr. Collier! Who's the mystery bride?"

"Is this a surprise wedding?"

"Regina, are you pregnant?"

She stiffened, but Frank didn't miss a beat. He leaned down, brushed his lips lightly against her temple, and said in a low voice, "Smile like I just told you I love you."

Regina plastered on the most believable smile she could. "I think I'm going to be sick," she whispered through her teeth.

He chuckled. "Get used to it. This is the easy part."

As the car pulled away, Regina stared at her reflection in the window.

Married.

To a billionaire.

With no real idea what she'd just walked into.

But the part that unsettled her the most wasn't the cameras or the contract or the cold look in Frank's eyes.

It was the part of her - small, quiet, and dangerous - that wondered if she'd just made a deal that would change her life forever. And not just her bank account.

The Collier penthouse was everything Regina had imagined- and absolutely nothing like she'd ever experienced.

Marble floors gleamed like polished ice beneath her heels. Chandeliers glittered above her, refracting light like diamonds in the sky. The air smelled of wealth, subtle cologne, and something colder- like power woven into every thread of the furniture.

"Wow," she breathed.

Frank didn't pause as he stepped through the foyer. "You'll get used to it."

She wasn't so sure.

Two assistants descended upon her immediately-one with a rack of designer evening gowns, the other with a tablet and a voice sharp enough to cut glass.

"Mrs. Collier," the tablet-wielder said briskly. "We need to prepare you for tonight. First public appearance. Guest list includes senators, tech moguls, two ambassadors, and the board of Collier Global."

Regina blinked. "Board? Of the whole company?"

"Yes," Frank said, finally looking back at her. "Try not to scare them."

She glared. "I'm not exactly the Medusa of Manhattan."

"No," he said, pausing. "You're worse. You're unpredictable."

She couldn't tell if it was an insult or a compliment.

He disappeared into one of the endless hallways, leaving her in the hands of Team Regina. Within thirty minutes, she was fitted into a midnight-blue gown with a daring slit, her hair styled into a soft updo, makeup flawless enough to rival any red carpet star.

She looked in the mirror and hardly recognized herself.

And that scared her more than the event.

The Collier penthouse transformed into a haven of opulence by evening. Crystal glassware shimmered under the lighting, violins played softly in the background, and guests flowed in like a sea of couture and designer labels.

Regina clung to her champagne glass like it was armor.

"Smile," Frank murmured beside her, his hand settling lightly on her lower back.

"I'm smiling."

"You're grimacing."

She inhaled deeply, then tilted her lips into a practiced smirk. "Better?"

"Passable."

They worked the room together, the picture-perfect power couple. Frank's charm was effortless, his tone warm but calculated. Regina followed his lead, offering poised answers, laughing at the right moments, nodding like she wasn't counting the seconds until she could breathe.

But then came her.

Tall, blonde, lips too red, and a voice smooth as velvet.

Sabrina Langford. Heiress. Socialite. Frank's ex-fiancée.

Of course she was invited.

"Frank," Sabrina purred, drifting toward them like a cat with blood in her teeth. "You look... married."

Regina felt Frank's hand tighten slightly.

"Sabrina," he said coolly. "You remember Regina."

Sabrina's eyes swept over her like a fashion critique.

"I do. The charming baker-turned-billionaire's wife. What a plot twist."

Regina smiled sweetly. "It's amazing what a woman can do with flour and ambition."

A few people nearby laughed. Sabrina's smile froze at the edges.

Frank looked down at Regina, a flicker of amusement behind his ice-blue eyes.

"Well," Sabrina said, recovering. "I must say, you clean up nicely. I almost didn't recognize you without an apron."

Regina tilted her head. "And I almost didn't recognize you without your usual bouquet of paparazzi and perfume made of desperation."

Sabrina's mouth dropped open slightly, and Regina took a victorious sip of her champagne.

"I like her," someone murmured nearby.

Frank leaned in, whispering under his breath, "Try not to start a war."

"She started it," Regina muttered. "I just win better."

Later that night, when the last of the guests had gone and the staff began clearing away the remnants of the evening, Regina kicked off her heels and collapsed onto a velvet settee in the massive sitting room.

Frank loosened his tie, watching her with a strange expression.

"What?" she asked, too tired to be polite.

"You surprised me tonight."

"Is that a good thing?"

He sat across from her, elbows resting on his knees. "You handled yourself well. Sabrina doesn't rattle easily."

Regina smirked. "That woman's Botox could survive an earthquake."

He huffed something that might have been a laugh.

For a moment, the tension between them softened. She saw something in his expression-worn down by the night, perhaps. Or by her.

"Why did you really pick me, Frank?" she asked softly. "You could've had any socialite or model who'd fake this just as well."

His eyes darkened, and the moment cooled again.

"Because they don't challenge me."

She swallowed. "And you like being challenged?"

"I need it," he said, voice lower now. "Comfort makes a man complacent. And complacency is dangerous."

She studied him in the dim light. For the first time, she didn't just see the ruthless businessman or the cold negotiator. She saw the weight he carried-responsibility, expectation, pressure. Maybe even loneliness.

And it made her chest tighten.

"Frank..." she began, unsure of what she meant to say.

But his phone buzzed sharply, breaking the fragile moment.

He glanced at it. His entire expression shifted.

"What is it?" she asked.

He stood, grabbing his suit jacket. "There's a problem at the company. I have to go."

Regina stood too, confused. "Now? It's midnight."

He hesitated for half a second. "This is what you signed up for, Regina. You married a man who doesn't sleep when the empire's burning."

And just like that, he was gone again.

She stood alone in the penthouse, surrounded by glittering emptiness, her heart beating far too loudly in her chest.

Her reflection in the windows haunted her - regal dress, perfect hair, diamonds in her ears - but all she saw was a woman pretending to be someone she wasn't.

She didn't regret signing the contract. Not yet. But every passing hour felt like she was drifting further from the life she knew. Baking muffins at dawn. Laughing with Ava over spilled batter. Watching the sunrise through the dusty windows of her little apartment. That life felt a thousand miles away now.

A soft knock broke her thoughts.

Regina turned, frowning. She wasn't expecting anyone.

The door opened before she could answer.

It was Eliot, Frank's right hand. Impeccably dressed, as always, and holding a tablet.

"You're still awake," he said with mild surprise.

"Hard to sleep in a museum," she muttered.

Eliot offered a tight smile. "Fair. I came to go over your calendar for the week."

"At midnight?"

"It's never too early when you're a Collier," he said, stepping in.

Regina followed him into the sitting room, collapsing onto the couch while he remained standing like a well-trained soldier.

"You've got charity galas, a photo shoot for New York Society, brunch with a senator's wife, and a press statement scheduled with Frank next Friday," he said as he scrolled through her itinerary.

"Press statement?" she asked, blinking.

"Yes. The official 'how we met and fell in love' story. PR's writing the narrative now."

She laughed under her breath. "And here I thought real couples just winged it."

Eliot glanced at her, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You're not like the others. I see why he chose you."

She tilted her head. "You sound surprised."

"I am." His expression shifted slightly-guarded, then curious. "You're not in this for fame. Or even the money. At least, not for yourself."

Regina stiffened. "You've been digging?"

"I'm Frank's fixer. I dig for a living."

She stood. "Let me guess. You found Ava. My debt. My dead parents. My crumbling bakery."

"No judgment," Eliot said quietly. "Just facts. You made a choice. One most wouldn't have the courage to make."

She met his gaze, unsure if he was warning her, admiring her, or both.

"Why are you really here, Eliot?" she asked.

He paused. "Because this world? The one you just married into? It's not just penthouses and gala gowns. It has teeth. And not everyone's thrilled about you being here."

Her stomach sank. "You mean Sabrina?"

"I mean more than just her. Frank has enemies. And marrying you, someone outside their circle, upsets the balance. They'll poke. Dig. Try to find cracks."

Regina's hands clenched. "And you think I'll break."

"I think you're strong," he said. "But I also think you don't know just how deep this world goes."

She swallowed hard, her voice quieter now. "What do I need to do?"

"Don't trust easily. Watch. Listen. And when Frank pushes you away-because he will-don't let it make you forget who you are."

With that, Eliot turned and left, the door clicking shut behind him.

Regina sat down slowly, heart pounding, head spinning.

This was more than just a contract now.

This was a storm.

And she was standing in the eye of it.

Hours later...

Regina finally peeled off the gown, wiped off her makeup, and slipped into silk pajamas that felt too expensive for someone used to cotton.

She curled up on the massive bed-cold, empty, untouched on one side-and stared at the ceiling.

She wanted to believe she could handle this. Wanted to believe Frank wasn't completely unreachable. That this arrangement wouldn't become a cage.

But Eliot's words echoed in her mind.

Don't forget who you are.

She wouldn't.

No matter how gilded the prison, she wouldn't forget the reason she said yes.

Ava. The bakery. Her future.

Even if it meant sleeping beside a stranger with ice in his veins and secrets behind his smile.

The next morning arrived with too much sunlight and too little peace. Regina stretched beneath the silk sheets, the unfamiliar luxury still clinging to her skin like an ill-fitting mask. Her body was sore from wearing heels for hours, her brain foggy from a night of overthinking, and her heart...

Well, her heart was beginning to realize the cost of this arrangement.

She padded into the kitchen, drawn by the scent of coffee- strong, bitter, and made just the way she liked it.

A mug sat on the marble counter with a note folded beneath it.

In Frank's handwriting: "Try not to burn down the penthouse. Back by noon. -F."

She rolled her eyes but couldn't help the twitch at the corner of her mouth. The man had a talent for sounding both charming and exasperating in equal measure.

She took a long sip and wandered out onto the balcony. The city stretched beneath her, pulsing with life. Horns blared, people hurried, and somewhere out there, Ava was waking up for school without her.

Regina's chest ached.

She needed to see her sister. And she needed a sliver of normal.

She picked up her phone and dialed the one person who knew her outside the glitz.

"You're alive!" Ava squealed when she answered.

"Barely," Regina smiled. "How's school?"

"Boring. Your husband's hotter than the sun. Everyone's talking about you."

Regina winced. "Please don't say 'hot' and 'husband' in the same sentence."

"I'm just saying. You looked like a whole Disney queen in that dress last night."

"You watched the gala?"

"Please. The entire internet watched it. You're trending."

Regina nearly dropped her coffee. "What?"

"Yeah. Hashtag CinderellaUpgrade."

"Oh, hell no."

Ava laughed. "Welcome to the spotlight, sis."

Regina sighed. "It's temporary."

"Maybe. But... I saw the way he looked at you, Regina."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know. It didn't feel fake."

Regina didn't answer. Because for one small second last night, she'd felt it too. The flicker in Frank's eyes, the softening in his voice. But then he vanished into the night like a ghost with a boardroom to haunt.

"Tell me something good," Ava said.

Regina smiled. "I miss your waffles."

"That's not good. That's tragic."

They both laughed, and for a moment, the distance between them felt smaller.

But the moment shattered when a chime echoed through the penthouse. Her phone lit up with a flood of notifications.

"What the hell...?" she muttered, clicking into the news app.

The headline made her heart plummet.

COLLIER MARRIAGE A FRAUD? Anonymous Source Claims Marriage Is a Business Deal

She scrolled down.

Photos of her and Frank at the gala. A blurry shot of them leaving City Hall. A quote from someone claiming to be "close to the bride" saying Regina was a nobody with a struggling business and that the entire marriage was staged to distract from Collier Global's ongoing financial investigation.

Her blood ran cold.

"Regina?" Ava asked. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," she lied quickly. "Just...bad Wi-Fi. I'll call you later."

She hung up and immediately called Frank.

No answer.

She tried Eliot.

Voicemail.

By the time she turned on the television, the story had already hit every major network.

A panel of polished anchors debated whether Regina had "duped" Frank or if Frank was "saving face" with a strategic marriage. They dissected her background, her bakery's bankruptcy, and her lack of a trust fund like vultures tearing apart a carcass.

And then came the final gut punch.

An interview with Sabrina Langford.

Regina's eyes narrowed.

"I just think it's suspicious," Sabrina said, her voice syrupy. "Frank and I were together for years. We were planning a future. Then suddenly he's married to a woman no one's ever heard of? I'm worried he's being manipulated."

"Do you think she's after his money?" the reporter asked.

"I think some people know how to play the long game," Sabrina said with a practiced sigh. "But I just hope Frank sees the truth before it's too late."

Regina's hand curled around her coffee mug, knuckles white.

A door slammed behind her. She turned to see Frank storming in, eyes blazing.

"Turn that off," he snapped.

She did-but not before Sabrina's smug face faded into black.

"You saw it?" Regina asked.

"I saw everything," Frank growled. "The leak came from someone inside the company."

She crossed her arms. "Was it true?"

He froze. "What?"

"The investigation. The rumors. The damage control. Is that why you married me?"

Frank's jaw tightened. "It's more complicated than that."

Regina laughed bitterly. "Of course it is."

He took a step closer. "I didn't marry you as a distraction. I married you because you were the only person who didn't come with strings."

She stared up at him. "Well, lucky for you, I come with trust issues instead."

They stood there, inches apart. The air between them charged, heavy with unspoken truths.

Then Frank's phone buzzed again.

He answered, turning away from her.

"Get me the legal team. I want the source identified. Now," he barked.

He hung up and faced her. "This changes things."

"You think?" she snapped.

His eyes locked on hers, unreadable. "From now on, we play the part to perfection. No more mistakes. No more real emotions. You're my wife. I'm your husband. And we will not give them blood."

Regina stared at him, her chest heaving. "So now I'm a soldier in your war."

"No," he said, voice lower now. "You're my shield."

Leaving Regina in the center of a hurricane, with nothing but a crumbling reputation and a heart she no longer recognized.

Regina stood frozen, the echo of Frank's footsteps vanishing down the hall.

"You're my shield."

The words hit harder than she expected.

It wasn't the accusation wrapped in his tone that stung-it was the quiet truth beneath it. She hadn't just walked into a marriage of convenience. She'd stepped into a battlefield where trust was a luxury no one could afford.

She paced the living room, heart racing. The headlines were spreading like wildfire, and Frank's reaction had only fueled her suspicions. He was hiding something. Something deeper than bad press or a boardroom rivalry. And now, by wearing his ring, she was part of it.

Her phone buzzed again. This time, a message from an unknown number.

"Meet me at the greenhouse. Come alone. -E"

She frowned. The greenhouse? In the middle of all this chaos?

Still, something in her gut told her to go.

-

The penthouse rooftop was quiet when she arrived. Tucked behind a wrought iron gate and surrounded by climbing ivy and exotic blooms, the greenhouse looked like something out of a fairytale-an odd contrast to the concrete world below.

Eliot was waiting inside, phone in one hand, a steaming cup of tea in the other.

"You came," he said, not surprised.

"What is this?" Regina asked. "Why here?"

"Because it's the only place Frank doesn't have wired."

Her stomach twisted. "He spies on his own wife?"

Eliot didn't answer directly. "He monitors everything. Even things he shouldn't."

She stared at him. "You said this world had teeth. I didn't realize you meant fangs."

Eliot finally looked at her, his expression softer than before. "I brought you here because I need you to understand what you're in the middle of."

She crossed her arms. "Then talk."

"Collier Global is under investigation. The marriage to you... it did help shift attention. But it wasn't just a PR stunt." He stepped closer. "You're not part of the lie, Regina. You're the only truth Frank has left."

She blinked. "That's the second time someone's told me that. What does that even mean?"

Eliot hesitated, then said, "Everyone in Frank's world wants something from him. Power. Status. A seat at his table. You? You walked in with a worn-out suitcase and a fierce need to protect your sister. That shook him."

"I don't care what shook him. I care about why my life is being torn apart by his secrets."

Eliot's voice dropped. "Because someone wants him destroyed. And they're going to use you to do it."

Regina took a step back. "Why me?"

"Because you're the unknown variable. They don't know how to control you."

She stared at him. "Who's they?"

Before Eliot could answer, the greenhouse door creaked open.

Frank stood in the doorway, his eyes like ice.

"Leave us," he said to Eliot.

Eliot nodded and slipped out, but not before giving Regina a warning glance.

Silence filled the space. Frank stepped inside, slowly closing the door behind him.

"You're meeting my fixer in secret now?" he asked, voice low and dangerous.

Regina refused to flinch. "He told me the truth. Something you still haven't."

Frank stepped closer. "What truth?"

"That I'm not just your 'shield.' I'm a pawn. And someone out there is trying to use me against you."

His jaw tensed, but he didn't deny it.

She folded her arms. "What aren't you telling me, Frank?"

For a long moment, he just looked at her. Then, to her surprise, he said quietly:

"My father built Collier Global on lies. Shell companies. Offshore accounts. I spent the last decade cleaning it up." He paced the greenhouse now, voice heavy. "But some of those lies... they're still buried. And someone's digging them up."

Regina felt like the floor tilted beneath her.

"So this isn't just about money."

"No." His eyes met hers. "It's about power. And survival."

She swallowed hard. "And you thought marrying me would protect you?"

"I thought marrying you would buy me time."

Her eyes stung, but she held her voice steady. "Then you should've hired a lawyer, not a bride."

He laughed once, bitter and quiet. "You're wrong."

"About what?"

"I didn't want a puppet," he said. "I wanted someone real. Someone who wouldn't flinch when the knives came out."

"And now?"

He stepped close enough that she could feel the heat of him.

"Now I realize I didn't just bring you into my world, Regina. I dragged you into war."

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then she whispered, "So what happens next?"

Frank studied her. "Next, we fight back."

She raised a brow. "Together?"

His gaze didn't waver. "If you're still willing."

Regina looked at him-this man who'd pulled her out of obscurity and into chaos. Who burned like fire but bled like anyone else.

And she nodded. Slowly. Steadily.

"I didn't sign up to be a queen, Frank," she said. "But I sure as hell won't be your casualty either."

He gave her a look that was half-grim, half-respectful.

"Good," he said. "Because the war just got personal."