Amelia's POV
"We get married?" I echoed.
"Did I stutter?"
The audacity of this man.
"What makes you think I plan on keeping the baby?" I asked him.
I saw something dangerous flicker in his eyes.
"You're keeping it." He said. It wasn't a request or a statement, just a command.
"And why do I have to marry you? I'm capable of raising a child as a single mother."
He eyed me from head to toe, his eyes, his beautiful blue eyes rested on my open cleavage.
I squirmed under his gaze, and drew my shirt closer, even though it didn't make a difference.
He then glanced up and looked at my face.
"I won't have my child raised in a house that I'm not present. And I won't have the press going about saying I have a bastard."
"I will not raise a bastard." He said a cold voice, it made me shiver.
"And if I refuse?" I asked.
"You won't." He replied so convinced I will agree to this whole farce.
"You're so certain."
"I've done my research, Amelia Hart. You're an orphan who's drowning in debt. You have no friends, your rent is due. Your car is a piece of junk and you just got fired this afternoon from a job it took you three months to secure."
My whole face turned red, as I heard him sum up my miserable excuse of a life. He actually did his research.
I sighed.
…..
I walked into the penthouse, the sound of my heels clicking on the glossy marble floor was the only sound. The place was quiet, eerily quiet.
"Miss Hart," a woman greeted me. She wore black like she was attending a funeral — maybe, in a way, she was. The death of my old miserable life.
"Mr. Grey is waiting in the west hall."
She directed me past high gloss windows, where I could see the tall Manhattan buildings as we passed. I was walking to my wedding. Even the word sounded strange in my ear.
Grey was right about one thing though. I couldn't refuse. I needed the money, I had no one. I was desperate. What did I have to lose?
We stopped in front of a private lounge. It looked like something from the cover of those magazines I always saw with sleek black furniture, walls wrapped in rich walnut panels, and floor-to-ceiling glass that glowed with the afternoon sun.
Benjamin was standing dressed to perfection in a sharp suit, the colour of midnight. He looked so blank as if this whole thing was just another irritating item on his schedule he needed to clear.
There was no music, no flowers and no guests. It was just two lawyers, the person officiating, the woman who brought me in and a man who offered me water.
The wedding was over in seven minutes, no bows or unnecessary pledges. It was a business transaction after all.
I signed my name, then Benjamin signed his and that was it.
We were married!
The officiant said congratulations with a polite nod. Everything seemed so formal.
I'd never imagined my wedding would be like this, but then again I'd never imagined I'd be injected with a billionaire's sperm by mistake.
I guess I'm lucky that it was a billionaire's sperm. At least after today I was going to be a million dollars richer. Money I wouldn't have dreamt of having yesterday.
It's funny, just yesterday I got fired from my job and today I'm married to one of New York's richest billionaires!
Benjamin turned to me. "Come. I'll show you your floor."
"My… what?" I asked but he was already walking ahead with a straight face. He got into the elevator.
I followed him. The elevator opened into a private corridor, the walls were lined with abstract art work.
I kept following him quietly until he stopped in a plush suite with marble floors and velvet sofas. The pillows on the sofa alone were probably more expensive than my apartment's rent for a year.
"This is where you will be staying." He said. "This is the twenty fourth floor, I'll be on twenty six."
I was confused. Why marry me and move me all the way here, only for us to live on separate floors. It didn't make sense.
But apparently it did to him. "If you need anything, my assistant will handle it."
I was his wife — by contract — but I wouldn't even be living with him?
My stomach twisted. Then what was the point?
"So, we're not…" I started saying then stopped myself.
I guess I was expecting too much. What was I hoping would happen?
"You know this isn't a marriage." He said. "And just because I said I wasn't going to raise a bastard doesn't mean I have to pretend that this is real."
With that said he stepped into the elevator and left. Leaving me feeling lonelier than I'd ever felt in years. I'd become a billionaire's bride but I'd never felt more scared and invincible in my entire life.