My Stranger Husband Is A Hidden Zillionaire

Brook slammed her weight against the heavy brass doors of the King County Administration Building.

The polished marble floor offered zero traction. Her right heel snapped with a sickening crack. She stumbled, her knee slamming into the hard stone, sending a shockwave of pain up her thigh.

She didn't stop.

She kicked off the broken shoe, her bare foot slapping against the freezing marble as she scrambled forward. Her lungs burned. Every breath tasted like copper.

"Where is that little bitch?"

The shrill, grating voice of her adoptive mother, Bobbi, echoed through the cavernous hallway behind her.

Then came the laugh. A low, wet, guttural sound that made the hair on the back of Brook's neck stand up. Travis Boggs. The loan shark. The man Bobbi was selling her to today.

Brook's hands shook so violently she could barely grip her phone. She unlocked the screen. Her thumb smeared sweat across the glass as she pulled up the text from her apartment manager, Brenda.

His name is Kevin Parrish. He's waiting by the registry window.

Below the text was a photo. It was blurry, taken from a distance. Just a broad set of shoulders in a dark suit, dark hair, standing near a pillar.

Brook looked up. Her chest heaved.

Ten yards away, standing in front of the marriage registry window, was a man in a dark, tailored suit. His back was to her. Dark hair. Broad shoulders. He looked exactly like the blurry pixels on her screen.

Footsteps pounded against the marble near the entrance. Bobbi was asking the security guard if he had seen a redhead.

Brook's stomach dropped. She had no time.

She lunged forward. Her bare foot slipped slightly, but she caught herself, crashing into the man's solid back. She grabbed the sleeve of his suit jacket. The fabric was impossibly soft, but she squeezed it like a lifeline.

The man turned.

Brook's breath hitched. He had a sharp, angular jaw and eyes the color of a winter storm. He didn't look like a Kevin. He looked dangerous. He looked annoyed.

Julian Cardenas IV stared down at the trembling, sweating girl clutching his arm. His jaw tightened.

"Are you Kevin?" Brook's voice cracked. Her fingernails dug into his sleeve. "Please. Marry me."

Julian's eyes narrowed. He was only standing in this miserable building to figure out a legal loophole to avoid the corporate merger marriage his grandfather, Cornelius, had arranged for him this afternoon.

He needed a wife. Immediately.

"Are you a legal adult?" Julian's voice was a low, flat rumble. It sent a strange vibration through Brook's fingertips.

Brook nodded frantically. She fumbled with her cheap purse, ripping her driver's license out and shoving it against his chest.

"There she is!" Bobbi's screech pierced the air.

Brook flinched. The blood drained from her face, leaving her skin the color of ash. Her knees buckled slightly.

Julian looked at the sheer, unadulterated terror in her eyes. He had seen people fake fear for money. This wasn't fake. This was survival. It was the most honest thing he had seen in years.

He looked from the sheer terror in her eyes to the screeching woman echoing at the end of the hall. A problem. And his own problem with Cornelius needed a solution this afternoon. Two problems, one ridiculous, highly improbable solution. He made a split-second calculation.

He turned his head toward the clerk behind the glass.

"We need the forms," Julian said.

Brook froze. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.

Julian took the clipboard from the clerk. He pulled a heavy silver pen from his inside pocket, scrawled his name across the top line, and shoved the board into Brook's hands.

"Sign," he ordered.

Brook's hand trembled so badly the pen rattled against the metal clip. She pressed the tip to the paper and forced her fingers to move, tracing out Brook Owens.

The clerk asked the standard questions. Julian answered with a cold, mechanical precision. Brook just nodded, her eyes darting toward the hallway.

Thump.

The heavy metal stamp hit the paper.

Julian picked up the marriage certificate. He stared at the name printed next to his. Brook Owens.

The double doors of the registry office flew open. Bobbi and Travis stormed in, their faces red with exertion.

Brook shrank back, a whimper dying in her throat.

Julian shifted his weight. He stepped smoothly in front of Brook, his broad shoulders completely blocking her from their view. He reached back, his large, warm hand wrapping around her freezing fingers.

"Let's go," Julian muttered.

He pulled her toward the side exit, his long strides forcing Brook to jog to keep up. The heavy fire door slammed shut behind them, cutting off Bobbi's voice entirely.