Snabbäktenskap med en miljardär

Snabbäktenskap med en miljardär

Pierogi

512.0k Words / Ongoing
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Introduction

Hur snabbt kan en kvinnas hjärta, en gång fångat av kärlek, krossas? Abigail Martin skulle kunna skriva en avhandling om ämnet.

Upptäckten av hennes trolovade i en hemlig omfamning med hennes syster på ett hotell gjorde Abigail till föremål för grymt hån. I en twist av hämnd accepterade hon frieriet från Gregory White, farbror till hennes trolösa fästman.

Med bläcket knappt torkat på deras äktenskapsbevis blev Gregory arkitekten bakom Abigails hämnd, samtidigt som han överöste henne med orubblig hängivenhet.

När tiden vävde sitt mönster fann sig Abigail ge efter för den ömma belägringen av Gregorys kärlek... Skilsmässa? En tanke som blivit föråldrad, för hon var fångad, villigt, i Gregorys kärleks varaktiga omfamning.

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Pierogi

Chapter 1

"Roman, vem älskar du mest, mig eller Abigail?"

"Så klart är det du, älskling. Har inte mina handlingar bevisat det tillräckligt?"

"Men jag vill höra dig säga det."

"Älskling, du är kvinnan jag älskar mest. Slappna av, du är för nervös."

Mannens dämpade tunga andning, blandat med kvinnans förföriska stön, ekade snabbt i hotellsviten.

Abigail Martin stod utanför den något öppna dörren, hennes blod nästan frös till is i ådrorna när den kyliga kylan orsakade okontrollerbara skakningar genom hennes kropp.

En timme tidigare hade någon skickat henne en video.

I videon kysste Abigails fästman, Roman White, passionerat hennes halvsyster, Jessica Martin, i korridoren på just det här hotellet.

Hon trodde först att det bara var ett skämt, men hon hade inte förväntat sig att dessa två hade varit tillsammans ett tag.

Hon tog ett djupt andetag, försökte hårt kontrollera sin ilska och tog fram sin telefon ur fickan, tyst skjuter upp dörren.

De två personerna på sängen var fortfarande uppslukade av den spännande njutningen. Plötsligt hörde de en kall röst. "Vilken fantastisk föreställning. Ska jag ge er en applåd?"

De rörde sig inte, alla tittade mot dörrens riktning.

"Ah!" Jessica skrek, panikslagen krypande in i Romans famn. "Abigail? Vad gör du här?"

Roman täckte sin kropp med en filt, missnöjd. "Vem släppte in dig?"

Abigail korsade armarna och tittade på honom sarkastiskt. "Om jag inte hade kommit skulle jag inte ha kunnat se en så spännande scen."

"Abigail, Roman och jag är verkligen förälskade i varandra; snälla förstå och låt oss vara tillsammans!"

Jessicas ögon blev röda, tårarna vällde upp, såg oskyldig och ynklig ut.

Roman kände sig hjärtekrossad, skyddade henne tätt i sina armar. Med djup röst sa han, "Abigail, du kan vara arg på mig, men Jessica är oskyldig!"

Abigail hånlog. "Oskyldig? Du är skamlös."

"Nog! Personen jag alltid har älskat är Jessica. Om du är medveten om detta borde du avbryta vårt förlovning med mormor!"

Han älskade Jessica, en mild och förtrollande kvinna som henne.

Men Abigail var tråkig och konservativ. Hon lät honom inte ens röra henne. Hon var otroligt tråkig!

Att vara med Abigail, han kunde inte känna någon lycka!

Abigail smalnade sina ögon, hennes blick iskall. "Du var otrogen. Sluta komma med ursäkter för dig själv. Jag undrar om andra skulle tycka att du är oskyldig om jag släpper videon av din affär?"

Romans och Jessicas ansikten blev bleka, ropade, "Abigail, du gör bäst i att radera videon!"

"Och vad om jag inte går med på det?"

Abigail tog två steg bakåt, provocerande lyfte hakan mot dem båda.

"Roman, om du inte gillar mig kan du bryta vår förlovning öppet. Jag behöver inte gifta mig med dig. Så som du är nu äcklar du mig verkligen."

Om Roman skulle bryta förlovningen öppet, kanske hon skulle tycka att han hade mod.

Tyvärr...

"Abigail, stanna där!"

När Abigail gick iväg brann Romans ilska, och han ville omedvetet jaga efter henne.

Men Jessica höll hårt om hans midja, gråtande av förtvivlan.

"Roman, vad ska vi göra? Abigail måste vara arg på mig. Jag borde aldrig ha gillat dig från början. Då skulle jag inte ha sårat Abigail."

När han hörde detta fylldes Romans hjärta med skuld och medlidande, oförmögen att fokusera på att hitta Abigail.

Han kysste Jessicas panna och tröstade henne med låg röst, "Jessica, du är bara för snäll. Om det inte vore för hennes inblandning, kanske vi hade varit tillsammans för länge sedan!"

"Roman, du är så bra mot mig."

Jessica stirrade rakt i riktning mot där Abigail försvann, med ett segerleende på läpparna.

Abigail kunde inte konkurrera med henne! Det skulle inte dröja länge innan Jessica gifte sig in i familjen White!

När Abigail lämnade hotellet, öste regnet redan ner utanför.

Oändligt mörker omslöt staden, med bara blixtar och svaga gatlyktor som var synliga i det tunga regnet.

Abigail stod i regnet, helt genomblöt.

Bilder av Roman och Jessica som älskade ekade i hennes sinne, vilket gjorde att hon inte kunde kontrollera sin illamående.

Hon hade inte ätit på hela dagen, och hennes mage värkte.

Hon tvingade sig själv att gå till vägkanten och kunde inte hålla det längre, sakta hukade hon sig ner.

Det kalla regnet slog mot hennes släta hud. Kylan fick henne att skaka okontrollerat.

Hon kände sig lite yr, oförmögen att avgöra om detta var verklighet eller en dröm.

Efter en okänd tid, började regnet som slog mot hennes kropp gradvis avta.

Abigail öppnade långsamt ögonen och såg en skugga framför sig.

Hon var lite förvirrad, lyfte gradvis blicken.

Det första hon såg var ett par välskräddade byxor som omslöt raka ben.

Sedan såg hon ett vackert ansikte.

Den här mannen rynkade lätt på ögonbrynen, utan att säga ett ord.

Hans svarta ögon såg på henne som om han ville smälta in i nattens mörker.

Abigail stirrade på honom förvirrat, lite överraskad. "Mr. White? Varför är det du?"

Mannen framför henne var Gregory White, chefen för Aramores största affärskonglomerat, familjen White.

Han var också hennes ex-fästman Romans farbror.

Gregory var George Whites son, och han besatt en extraordinär affärstalang. Bara några år efter att han tog över White Group, multiplicerades dess marknadsvärde flera gånger.

Gregorys mest skrämmande egenskaper är hans sätt att hantera saker och hans beslutsamma personlighet. Han har dock alltid varit mystisk och lågmäld, sällan interagerat med mig. Abigail har bara sett honom några gånger vid familjen Whites sammankomster, och de har knappt pratat med varandra. Gregory ger ifrån sig en farlig aura, så Abigail brukar undvika honom. Hon trodde aldrig att hon skulle stöta på honom idag, särskilt inte i ett sådant kaotiskt tillstånd.

"Vad kan vara så viktigt att du inte tar hand om dig själv?" Gregory höjde lätt på ögonbrynen. Hans djupa och rika röst var förförisk, nästan som en elektrisk ström som drog in folk. Det fanns också en antydan till dold oro i hans ord.

Abigail återvände till verkligheten och reste sig snabbt, men hennes ben var domnade efter att ha hukat på marken för länge. Hennes kropp svajade plötsligt okontrollerat, och hon började falla bakåt, trodde att hon skulle hamna i ett pinsamt fall. Men ett par varma och starka händer fångade plötsligt hennes midja. Nästa sekund föll hon in i ett varmt och brett bröst.

Oroligt grep hon tag i hans skjorta, rädd att hon skulle falla på egen hand. I det ögonblicket hördes Gregorys djupa röst i hennes öra med en retfull ton, "Tar du fördel av mig?"

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