Substitute Marriage: Marrying The Disabled Billionaire

Chrissy practically jogged to keep up with the wheelchair as they exited the suffocating villa.

The cool evening breeze of Los Angeles hit her face. Her eyes burned. She blinked rapidly, forcing the tears of adrenaline and relief back down.

The black Maybach was idling at the curb. Ray had the rear door open. Mitch was already positioning the wheelchair on the hydraulic lift.

Chrissy stopped a few feet away from the car door.

She looked at Arch's profile.

"Thank you, Mr. Rush," she said softly. Her voice was genuine.

Arch turned his head. He looked at her from behind his dark sunglasses. His expression was completely unreadable.

"Don't flatter yourself," he said coldly.

He adjusted his cuffs. "I didn't come back to play your knight in shining armor. My grandfather called."

Chrissy blinked, confused.

"Cornelius takes this marriage very seriously," Arch continued, his tone strictly business. "He has arranged a welcome dinner at the estate tonight. If I showed up without you, I would never hear the end of it."

The small spark of warmth in Chrissy's chest instantly died.

Of course. He was a billionaire. He didn't care about her. He only cared about optics and keeping his family patriarch happy.

"I understand," Chrissy said quietly. "But regardless, thank you."

Arch ignored her. He pressed a button on his armrest, preparing to let Mitch load him into the car.

Woof!

Greyson suddenly barked, pulling hard on the leash. The dog sniffed the tires of the Maybach, his tail wagging.

Arch froze.

He slowly turned his head and stared at the golden mutt. His upper lip curled in profound disgust.

"Throw it away," Arch commanded.

Chrissy gasped. She immediately stepped in front of Greyson, shielding the dog with her legs.

"No," she said, her voice suddenly fierce.

"I do not allow shedding, foul-smelling creatures inside my vehicles," Arch stated, his voice rising in anger. "Get rid of it."

Chrissy gripped the leash tighter. She looked like a mother bear protecting her cub.

"He is my family," she argued, her chin jutting out. "I promised I would never abandon him. He goes where I go."

Arch scoffed. "You can barely afford to feed yourself, and you insist on dragging a parasite along?"

"Your estate is massive!" Chrissy fired back, her heart pounding. "I will keep him in the backyard. I will clean up after him. He will never set foot in the main house. But I am not leaving him here."

They stared at each other. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife.

Arch's jaw clenched. He hated being defied.

Just then, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out. It was a text from his grandfather, demanding to know their ETA.

Arch let out a harsh breath. Arguing over a stray dog was a waste of his valuable time.

He glared at Chrissy.

"Put the beast in the trailing security SUV," Arch hissed through his teeth. "If I find a single flea on my property, I will have it skinned."

Chrissy let out a massive sigh of relief.

"Thank you," she breathed. She quickly handed the leash to a very confused-looking Mitch.

She clutched her duffel bag and scrambled into the back of the Maybach, pressing herself into the farthest corner of the leather seat.

The car pulled away from the curb.

The neon lights of the city blurred past the tinted windows. Chrissy stared at her own reflection in the glass. She had escaped her parents, but she knew she was heading into a much deeper, more dangerous trap.

Arch leaned his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes. His breathing was slow and even, as if she didn't even exist.

Thirty minutes later, the Maybach slowed down.

They turned off the main road and approached a massive, wrought-iron gate. The gates swung open silently, revealing a sprawling, perfectly manicured French-style garden.

The Rush family estate loomed in the darkness ahead. It looked less like a home and more like a heavily fortified castle.

Chrissy's stomach tied itself into a knot.