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Forced to Marry The Arrogant Billionaire Heir Novel Cover

Forced to Marry The Arrogant Billionaire Heir

Bound by a high-stakes business deal, Alexander and Hazel enter an arranged marriage of convenience. Despite their shared interests and an immediate spark, their union is soon besieged by constant scandals and deceit. As a sudden disappearance leaves Hazel desperate for answers that no one will provide, she must navigate a web of silence. Can their fragile trust survive the weight of these secrets, or will the mounting misunderstandings destroy them?
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Chapter 6

The room emptied slowly, tension pressing down on everyone like a storm. The murmuring bridesmaids raked their eyes down Alex's intimidating frame. Rose had to be helped out by her husband, her worried eyes never leaving her son's face.

My father's stare felt sharp like a blade on my skin as he filed out with the rest, slamming the door shut on his way. Silence fell. So sharp, I could hear my panicked heartbeat.

Alex stood in the middle of the room. Tall and unmovable, his piercing green eyes pinned me down. His face was unreadable but his jaw clenched dangerously tight, his hands forming balls of fist at his side. This side of him… This side of him looked terrifying.

I swallowed and spoke first. “Alex, I don't know what's happening–”

“Don't,” He cuts me off. His voice low and venomous, even the indifferent tone he spoke with the other night, felt warmer. “Don't you dare stand there and tell me you don't know what's happening.”

Confusion swirled inside of me. Desperate and urgent. “I don't. I swear I don't. One moment I'm waiting for you, the next everyone's–”

“Everyone's what?” He took a menacing step towards me, his scent of expensive cologne and pure anger clouded my senses. “Everyone's finding out that their perfect princess has been whoring around behind our backs few days to OUR wedding. That's what, Hazel.” He spat my name like it left a bad taste on his tongue.

His words struck me like a slap. “Whoring–? Alex what do you mean, what are you talking about? Please tell me.” I tried to keep my voice steady but the shaky words that left my lips betrayed me.

He reached inside his jacket and tossed a brown folder onto the table. Papers spilled out, glossy photographs scattering across the floor. I bent and picked one up with trembling fingers.

It was me. Me in a cafe, smiling at my ex-boyfriend— Abel. who sat across the table holding my hand. I remembered this cafe. This exact moment, when I thought life suddenly felt brighter…warmer. I had the love of my life, holding me and burying me with empty promises of a future with me. Kind of like my current situation.

Painful memories I managed to keep hidden at the back of my mind resurfaced with a force that had me reeling forward. I felt like throwing up.

“Where did you get these, Alex? I asked, glancing at him for a second before my eyes caught another photo. But this one was different. There were no faces, just texts. My name was boldly written at the top of the text, followed by messages that looked like private intimate conversations between two lovers. Abel and I.

I looked at Alex still on my knees, crotched over the spilled photos. How did he get these? And what does he really think about me?

Doesn't he realize that the timestamps are wrong… different?

My hands shook as I dropped the photos. “These aren't real… just let me explain.”

Alex gave a sharp, humorless laugh. “That's your fucking defence? You think I'm stupid Hazel?”

I winced at his choice of words again. Tears burning at the side of my eyes. I felt like my mother at the moment. Weak, pathetic and voiceless. “I don't talk to Abel anymore. We broke up ages ago. Listen to me. Someone set this up.”

“Convenient, isn’t it? That you’d say exactly what a guilty woman would say when caught.” He says sharply, voice unyielding. But something crossed his eyes. Hurt?

“Why won't you listen? Why won't you trust me?” My voice came out angry, frustrated this time. I got up and planted both feet to the ground to steady my shaking legs.

He moved closer now, we're almost chest to chest. Staring each other down. His eyes flickering with that same hurt expression. This time I didn’t miss it, even though it disappeared as fast as it came. “How can I trust you, when I have proof staring me in the face?”

“Proof?” I whispered. “You call this proof Alex? This isn't proof Alex, It's a perfectly framed lie and you're falling for it!”

“Spare me the bullshit, Hazel.”

The silence between us thickened. He moves back and creates a much needed distance. I could feel the tears threatening to spill, but hell, I refused to break. Not in front of him.

“I thought…” my voice cracks. “I thought maybe there was a connection between us. You said it! In your letter. You said you looked forward to being with me.” my voice lowers with the last sentence.

“You fooled me, Hazel. With those eyes, your soft smiles, your gentle gestures. I almost fell for it this time…”

Who on earth hurt this man?! And why is he such a block head?

“I don't know who hurt you in the past but maybe you deserved it if you also misjudged her the way you're doing with me.”

Something shifted. His eyes became even colder. His jaw clenched impossibly tighter and his arms shot out suddenly, grabbing me roughly. He pulled me closer until my breath caught at his closeness.

“Then swear it, Hazel. Swear to my face that you didn't.” he breathes out, voice low. Dangerous.

“I swear. I swear that this is all a misunderstanding and you've got it all wrong. Let me explain.”

“I still won't trust a word from you.”

“So what? Are you going to call off the wedding now?” I grunt frustratedly.

“This marriage was a deal…” his voice came out slowly. Each word forged in fire burned me. “Deals aren't built on lies,” he said.

So this is it? Is this how today will end? Broken promises, Shattered hope. How naive I was. Humiliating.

“But I respect my family too much to harm their reputation this way.” he continues, “I won't let a whoring rat ruin that.”

The tears I was keeping at bay finally spilled down my cheeks, but I stood straighter, forcing myself not to collapse even when anger racked my body and all I wanted to do was smash his head on a motherfucking wall.

My chest heaved. I could barely breathe in my gown. The sequins felt too heavy and the corset was too tight, I wanted to rip it off. The gown weighed me down like heavy chains.

My voice was hoarse but strong this time around. “Fine, believe whatever you fucking want. But one day, Alexander De Luca, the truth will come out. And when it does, don’t regret it too much.”

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