The Billionaire's Favourite Indulgence.

Emily Parker had exactly one rule when it came to her aunt.

Never underestimate her.

At six thirty the next morning, Emily stood in her kitchen holding a mug of instant coffee she didn't remember making, staring at her front door like it might explode.

She had slept badly.

Not because of nightmares-Emily didn't suffer from such dramatic things-but because her brain had spent the entire night running calculations.

How long could she stall?

What excuses were still usable?

Was faking her own death excessive, or merely inconvenient?

Her phone vibrated on the counter.

Aunt Lin: I'm downstairs.

Emily choked on her coffee.

"Already?" she croaked.

She glanced at the time.

6:31 a.m.

Of course.

Aunt Lin believed mornings were morally superior.

Emily rushed to her bedroom, threw on the least offensive outfit she owned-loose jeans, a neutral sweater, hair hastily tied back-and did a quick scan of the apartment.

Too late to clean.

She opened the door anyway.

Aunt Lin swept in like a cold front.

She was petite, straight-backed, and impeccably dressed in pressed slacks and a cardigan despite the early hour. Her hair was neatly pinned, her gaze sharp and assessing as it moved through the apartment in one smooth sweep.

Her mouth tightened.

"So this is how you live," she said.

Emily smiled weakly. "Good morning to you too."

Aunt Lin stepped fully inside, setting her suitcase down with deliberate care.

"No husband," she said, glancing around. "No structure. No discipline."

Emily closed the door behind her. "I have a job."

Aunt Lin turned.

Her eyes were piercing. "Writing nonsense online is not a job."

Emily bit back a reply.

Arguing facts with Aunt Lin was like arguing with weather.

Aunt Lin removed her coat, folded it neatly, and draped it over the back of a chair Emily hadn't used in months.

"How much do you make?" Aunt Lin asked.

Emily froze.

"Enough," she said carefully.

Aunt Lin sniffed. "Enough for takeout and laziness."

She walked toward the kitchen, opened the fridge without asking, and frowned at the emptiness.

"No groceries."

"I eat out."

Aunt Lin closed the fridge with quiet judgment. "That's wasteful."

Emily resisted the urge to point out that she could afford waste.

Instead, she poured her aunt a cup of coffee, hoping caffeine might soften her.

It didn't.

They sat across from each other at the small dining table. Emily slouched. Aunt Lin sat straight-backed, hands folded.

"You're twenty-four," Aunt Lin said.

Emily nodded. "I know."

"At your age, I already had responsibilities."

Emily waited.

"No husband. No children. No plan."

"I have a plan," Emily said.

Aunt Lin raised an eyebrow. "Name it."

Emily opened her mouth.

Closed it.

Sleeping in until noon and writing emotionally damaged men was not a plan that would survive this interrogation.

Aunt Lin sighed, as if deeply disappointed-but unsurprised.

"I spoke to the matchmaker in town," she said.

Emily's heart dropped.

"There's a good man," Aunt Lin continued. "Stable family. Owns land. Hardworking."

Emily imagined mud. Silence. Expectations.

"No," she said immediately.

Aunt Lin's eyes hardened.

"You will come home," she said. "At the end of this month."

Emily's fingers curled into her lap.

"And you will meet him."

Emily leaned forward. "Aunt Lin, listen-"

"No," Aunt Lin said calmly. "You listen."

She reached into her bag and placed a folded document on the table.

A bus schedule.

Emily stared at it like it was a death sentence.

"I already bought the ticket," Aunt Lin said. "One-way."

Emily laughed, a little hysterically. "You can't force me."

Aunt Lin met her gaze.

"I raised you after your parents died," she said quietly. "I can do whatever I think is best."

The words landed heavier than a shout.

Emily swallowed.

This was the problem with Aunt Lin.

She didn't argue.

She decided.

"I won't go," Emily said, more softly now.

Aunt Lin studied her.

"You're afraid," she said.

"No," Emily replied instantly. "I'm practical."

"Marriage gives stability."

"Marriage gives chores," Emily shot back.

Aunt Lin frowned. "You speak like a child."

Emily leaned back, crossing her arms. "I don't want love. I don't want kids. I don't want to manage someone else's feelings."

A pause.

Aunt Lin's expression changed.

Not anger.

Concern.

"That's not normal," she said.

Emily smiled thinly. "It's efficient."

Aunt Lin stood abruptly.

"Pack your things," she said. "You have three weeks."

Emily stood too. "No."

Aunt Lin turned back, eyes sharp.

"Unless," she added, "you have a husband."

Silence.

Emily blinked. "What?"

Aunt Lin folded her arms. "Produce one. Three months. If you are married, I won't interfere."

Emily stared at her.

Three months.

A husband.

Her brain raced.

Impossible.

"Otherwise," Aunt Lin continued, "you return home and accept the match."

Emily laughed again, breathless. "That's ridiculous."

Aunt Lin picked up her suitcase. "Life is ridiculous. Marriage is inevitable."

She paused at the door.

"You always choose the easy path," Aunt Lin said. "This time, choose correctly."

The door closed.

Emily stood frozen in the silence that followed.

Then she collapsed onto a chair.

Three months.

A husband.

She pressed her palms to her face.

This was bad.

Very bad.

Her phone buzzed.

A new comment notification from her novel.

- If he doesn't marry her, I'll riot.

Emily stared at the screen.

Slowly.

An idea began to form.

She leaned back, exhaling.

"Marriage," she murmured. "Fine."

If marriage was inevitable...

Then she would make it painless.

Cheap.

Temporary.

And entirely on her terms.

Emily Parker smiled.

She had three months.

And she intended to cheat fate.

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