The Billionaire's Virgin Fiancée: A Fake Fiancée Romance

by Tia Wylder

  I didn’t sleep a wink that night. The mission involves killing the General, but that was just the beginning. Once it was done, we had to get out on our own. That way, if we’re captured, they could deny involvement. We were all draft-dodgers, but now, we were all going to do this together.

  The phone rang in my one-bedroom apartment on the morning of the tour. I picked it up with a shaking hand.

  “Oh-four-seven-two-six-victor-Charlie-Zulu, checking in,” I said.

  There was silence on the other end for about ten seconds. I thought I heard someone’s breath crackling in the speaker.

  “It’s just us,” a voice said.

  “Sir?”

  “Don’t ‘sir’ me, none of that matters anymore. Blackwell, they’re all dead.”

  If everyone else was gone, that left myself and our squad leader, Patterson. He was undercover as a bodyguard for the General. Another of our agents was supposed to get a job catering the event, and still another was supposed to sabotage aspects of the plant to create an accident. We had multiple options for taking out the target, but now we were down to two: Patterson could kill the general himself, or I could try and come up with another plan.

  “How do we proceed?” I asked.

  “Report to your shift like usual, I’ll be at the General’s side. We’ll just have to improvise.”

  I put the phone down and went through my usual routine to get ready for the day’s work. I was at my post, ready and waiting when the bells rang and the lines started up. The equipment they used was outdated and the items we were assembling were volatile. Other men have died on the line because of a misplaced firing pin, a loaded clip, or a botched grenade.

  The door to my section of the factory swung open and a loud voice declared the arrival of the General. We were told to keep working like it didn’t matter. We had to showcase our skills to him and ensure that everything was being done properly. Despite the grinding metal gears and the hum of the machines, I somehow heard every single footstep, moving to the beat of my heart.

  I made brief eye contact with Patterson. He eyed me with a glare as if he expected me to have done something by now. As the General approached from behind, I deftly assembled a grenade and placed the trigger pin beside it, as per protocol.

  “Excellent time,” the General said.

  I continued working as if he hadn’t said anything. He walked past me, along with Patterson. When the next grenade came, I assembled it, placed the trigger pin inside, and then pulled it out. The timer started. I threw the pin at Patterson. It hit him in the back of the head as the grenade slid down the assembly line. He spun around and looked at me as the General continued walking.

  I pointed to the assembly belt and Patterson immediately understood. He dove away from the General just as the grenade detonated in a massive fireball. Smoke rushed past me as I was thrown to the ground. The factory alarms blared all around us as I struggled to climb onto my feet. Patterson appeared and helped me stand. My ears were ringing and my vision was blurry.

  “That was some quick thinking,” Patterson said.

  “Yeah, now comes the hard part.”

  From within the swirling smoke, the General emerged. His face was burned and charred. I could see shrapnel protruding from his legs. He lurched toward us and grabbed Patterson by the neck. They tumbled to the ground as Patterson struggled to push him off. I reached down and pulled the pistol from the General’s holster.

  He was growling words that I couldn’t understand. His lips could barely move.

  “Blackwell, shoot! Do it now!”

  I aimed the gun at the smoldering General, but I had trouble pulling the trigger. This would be my first time killing someone.

  “Do you want to see your family again?” Patterson asked.

  I pictured Jackie and Jacob. That I was all I needed. I squeezed the trigger and put two rounds into the General. Patterson stood up and took the gun from me.

  “Hesitate again and I’ll leave you behind. Let’s go.”

  We left the factory in all of the commotion. The military was moving in from every angle. The place would be on lockdown in mere seconds.

  “How are we going to get out of here?” I asked.

  Patterson looked around.

  “Find cover, they should be here any minute.”

  I followed Patterson to an outcropping hanging over a supply cache. Bombs started falling from the sky. The factory was awash in flames as we hid behind a stack of steel crates.

  “An air strike? I thought they wouldn’t come for us?” I asked.

  “Not until the job was done! The men on a suicide mission are the most desperate, and the most creative!” Patterson shouted.

  “You knew?” I asked.

  He nodded as he grinned. “Yeah, but I’m not a draft-dodger. Consider your sins absolved.”

  I shook my head. Yeah, maybe one sin, but not all of them.

  Chapter Seven

  Jackie

  Tyler was sweet at first, even loving. As time went on, though, he started to become angry. Ever since we made love, he became more distant. He seemed angry all the time, and he drank every night until he passed out. I hated thinking about it, but it seemed like he was acting for the past year. A part of me wondered if he only wanted to sleep with me, so he forced himself to be nice.

  There were times when we got into arguments, and I was terrified that he would hit me. I wanted to say something to Lisa, but how could I tell my best friend that her older brother was an abusive asshole? Up until then, he hadn’t laid a finger on me, but I truly felt like he was one argument away from hitting me.

  He loved going out to sports bars to watch the big games. Being a professional athlete, he was always dragging me out to the bar when his team was playing. He was too persuasive, so I usually went and hired a babysitter for Jacob. He was, after all, paying for everything. He loved to hang that over my head.

  We were at the sports bar; sitting at a table, and Tyler was downing his fourth beer as he pointed at the screen and called out random player’s names. I watched him drink another, and another, and another, until the game was over. He paid his tab and we left the bar. He was too drunk to drive like most nights, so we walked home.

  About halfway back there was an alley that was largely deserted. Tyler grabbed me by the arm and pulled me into the darkened alley.

  “I can’t believe I never thought of this!” he shouted.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Take off your panties,” he said.

  He started undoing his pants and I realized what he wanted.

  “No, absolutely not! You’re drunk, we’re going home!”

  That was the moment. He pulled back his hand and struck me across the face. Pain lit up across my vision as I fell against the wall. I was in shock, stunned, as he started unbuttoning my shirt.

  I reached out to push him away, but he was too strong. He closed his fist and hit me again. My head shot back and hit the wall. The alley was spinning as I felt him undressing me.

  “You should have listened,” he whispered.

  I felt his dirty hands clawing at me. I wanted to fight back, but everything was blurry and the pain was unbearable. Tyler disappeared. I felt his hands leave me as he tumbled to the ground. I stood up from the wall and turned to face him.

  Another man was lying on top of him. He sat up and started punching him repeatedly. I saw blood spewing from his nose with each subsequent hit. I ran over and grabbed the person by the shoulder.

  “It’s fine, don’t hurt him!” I shouted.

  The man turned to face me. It was Axel.

  “You?” I asked.

  He stood up. “Jackie, it’s me, I’m back!”

  I threw up my hands and walked away from him. He chased after me. I felt his hands on my shoulders. They were rugged, but gentle at the same time.

  “You think you can just show up like nothing happened?” I asked.

  “Baby, it’s not like that. I don’t know who th
at asshole was, but please, let me get you out of here. I’ll explain everything.”

  I wasn’t ready to welcome Axel back with open arms, but I didn’t want to go home with Tyler either.

  “He knows where I live,” I said.

  Axel’s eyes lit up. “He lives with you?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “I’m sure it is. Here, I have a car. Let’s go home to Jacob and I promise I’ll tell you everything.”

  “What about him, what if he comes for me?” I asked.

  Axel laid his hand on my cheek, just like he used to do when we first started dating. I felt scars on his face. They were new and fresh, which made me wonder what he had been doing all this time. I looked into his eyes and I saw that love that we shared, burning brighter than ever.

  “I’ll take care of him. From here on out, I’m going to protect my family, whatever it takes, I’ll never leave you again,” he said.

  I smiled as he took me into his arms. I didn’t know why, but I felt like I could believe him. I loved him with all my heart. It was like he never left.

  The Asian Bad Boy

  Chapter One

  Daiki Uchida

  “I know your ears are probably still ringing, but listen close because I’m only going to say this once. Payment is required when services are rendered, and not a moment later.”

  I stood up and nodded to the rather large individual to my left named Kraig. He enjoyed hitting people, and he was quite good at it. I let him do the talking most of the time.

  Money is power. Anything in the world can be bought for the right price. The only question one must ask, is how far are they willing to go? It’s all about how you exercise the power afforded to you by the wealth you’ve accrued. I, for example, have decided to invest in the one business that will never go out of style: war.

  I lifted a hand to stop the relentless punching. The conviction in his eyes told me he still hadn’t learned his lesson.

  “Listen, I get it, I do. You want to forge a better life for yourself and your people. I want to help you do that, but I’m not a charity,” I said.

  I motioned to the hulking man beside me and he resumed his duties.

  Whether it’s a border skirmish in a third-world country, or a full-scale rebellion against the local dictatorship, I’m always there product in hand. I’ve been accused of prolonging conflict and increasing death tolls, but I would argue that these conflicts would rage on regardless of my presence or lack thereof. If people want to kill one another, they will find a way.

  Of course, a weapons dealer isn’t the public face I want to wear. No, my “day job” is running a dummy corporation designed to launder the funds and put on a pretty face for the world to see. We specialize in private security solutions, the perfect cover for purchasing weapons and ammo. Some of our clients are very important people after all, but most are angry refugees determined to overthrow the governing body of their choosing.

  I stopped him again.

  “Untie him, I think he’s learned his lesson.”

  The man could barely stand. His emaciated body stood like a rickety tree in the dimly lit room.

  “Now, you’re going to find a way to pay me for those weapons and ammo within the next twenty-four hours, or my face is going to be the last thing you’ll ever see.”

  It’s all money to me. So long as they pay, we don’t have any problems. But then, of course, you run into situations where we disagree on the speed at which payment is rendered. In those situations, I like to take a hands-on approach.

  “I don’t have any money,” he babbled.

  “Figure something out!” I shouted.

  I motioned to Kraig, and we the left the room. I walked out into an abandoned bunker that this particular resistance was using as a base of operations. The armed men in the halls regarded me with blank stares, but I saw the hatred in their eyes. I was both their savior and their vanguard of destruction. They needed me, but ultimately my services would send them deeper and deeper into the maw of war.

  Such is the way of the world, I was simply providing supply to meet demand. We reached the surface and emerged onto a makeshift helipad where my chopper was waiting. The pilot had been standing at attention in the freezing cold with a fur-lined hood over his head and thick goggles over his eyes.

  He pulled down the bandana over his face as I approached. The icy snow-filled wind cut right through my trench coat and bit at the skin beneath. I was ready to leave this cold hell and get back.

  “Everything fixed sir?” he asked.

  “He has twenty-four hours. I’m not coming back to this ice box, though, send one of our own to collect.”

  “Very good, sir. Where to now?”

  “Back home, I need a drink.”

  I climbed into the chopper. Kraig slid in beside me, taking up almost two seats on his own. It was all muscle, though, he was truly a powerful weapon.

  “Do you love your job, Kraig?” I asked.

  He looked over to me as he polished the blood off his fists with a dirty cloth he kept in his jacket.

  “Yes, sir,” he said.

  I leaned back and closed my eyes.

  “Me too.”

  As the helicopter’s blades picked up speed, I felt the entire machine lift itself off the ground and ascend toward the sky.

  My phone started ringing and I felt my fists clench. It was probably my wife, calling to remind me that I should be at her beck and call.

  I pulled the vibrating device out of my pocket and saw not her name, but the name of a contact I had in Africa. I couldn’t remember which country. I looked at his name on the phone and focused on how to pronounce it when I answered. I set the headset I was wearing to Bluetooth from my phone and picked up.

  “Babatunde, what can I do for you my friend?”

  “Went to collect Mr. Uchida, Baako didn’t have the money. You said to call.”

  I really needed to get better at delegating these things.

  “One moment, Babatunde.”

  I turned to Kraig.

  “Are you able to do more negotiating today?” I asked.

  Kraig flexed his thick hands and nodded. I switched back to the phone call.

  “Thank you, we’ll be there soon to take care of the situation.”

  I hung up the phone and sighed. Looks like we were going out of the freezer and into the frying pan.

  I turned off the Bluetooth and radioed to the pilot.

  “Change of plans, it seems we have another debt to collect.”

  Chapter Two

  Kamaria Ife

  When you grow up with nothing, not even clean water, love is something you never expect to have. Your dreams are composed of the things most people take for granted. I grew up in a small village somewhere in Africa. I never knew the name. This was a place where most people didn’t survive past their infancy, let alone to adulthood. There came a day when a man claiming to be a prince came to our village. He was looking for a woman to bring home as his wife.

  Everyone wanted to be chosen. A chance to leave this place, to enjoy the comforts of a normal life, who wouldn’t want that? He arrived dressed in a flowing shirt and pants that were embroidered with magnificent colors. Blue like the sky and red like the sunset. He truly resembled royalty as he walked among us. I didn’t push past the other girls, nor did I shout at him to attract his attention. I simply stared at him as he passed and he looked back at me.

  I was young, I had only just turned eighteen, and I had never once considered the possibility of love. Still, when our eyes met, I was convinced that I had felt it. It was a rumbling in your stomach, but not the kind you heard when you went to sleep hungry. No, it was more like sparks of fire dancing around inside of you.

  My heart raced, but for once it wasn’t because I was scared. On the contrary, I was excited. He walked over to me and smiled with perfect white teeth. His hand came down and gently touched mine. I felt like lightning was shooting through me. I was convinced that this w
as the love so many people strived for in their lives.

  He took me with him, and we went back to his home. It was magnificent, the largest building I had ever laid eyes upon. There was a fountain in the front courtyard that flowed with fresh clean water. I remember trying to drink it, but the prince stopped me. I was embarrassed, but he didn’t seem to care.

  We went inside and I marveled at the lush carpets, the intricate art that hung upon the walls, and the priceless vases and sculptures that were spread throughout the house. I took a shower for the first time in my life and it was magnificent. I could change the temperature of the water whenever I wanted. When I was cleaned up, that night I was served a meal fit for a princess. It was hard to believe that any of this was real. It all seemed too good to be true.

  That’s because it was.

  I lived the greatest years of my life in that house. I had grown from a scrawny and emaciated girl into a black and big beautiful woman. Then in one night it was all taken from me. I didn’t know much about my husband, all I knew was that he cared for me, and I in turn cared for him. He was clearly rich and powerful, but that was the extent of my knowledge.

  I was sleeping comfortably in a bed with silk sheets when I heard a furious pounding on the front door. My eyes shot open as my husband climbed out of bed.

  “Who could that be?” I asked.

  “Stay here,” he said.

  I watched him walk over to the wardrobe in the corner. He had a key for it that he kept around his neck for safekeeping. I had never seen him open it before. He took the key off, unlocked it, and threw open the doors. Inside was a plethora of weapons. Everything from pistols, to assault rifles, to shotguns and grenades. He pulled out one of the assault rifles and went to work checking the clip. He held it in one hand as he picked up one of the grenades.

  He set everything down on his desk beside the wardrobe as the pounding on the front door resumed downstairs. He pulled a pistol from the arsenal, checked the clip, and then walked over to me.