Avery woke up with a killer headache.
She groaned and opened her eyes slowly. Then she froze.
This wasn't her tiny apartment. This was a luxury hotel room. Huge bed. Fancy curtains. Big windows showing the Vegas strip.
"Where am I?" she whispered.
Then she felt something heavy on her hand. She lifted it up and her blood went cold.
A diamond ring. Massive. Sparkling. On her wedding finger.
"Oh God. What did I do?"
"Good morning, wife."
Avery screamed. She jumped out of bed and spun around.
Standing in the doorway was the last person she ever wanted to see.
Rohan Rathore.
Tall. Handsome. Arrogant. The billionaire who had been trying to destroy her bakery for months. The man she absolutely hated.
"YOU?" she shrieked.
"Me," he said calmly. Too calmly. He held up a piece of paper. "Congratulations. We got married last night."
The room started spinning. "No. No way. This is a joke, right?"
He walked over and showed her the paper. Marriage certificate. Official. Legal. Her signature at the bottom.
Avery Mitchell is now Avery Rathore.
"This isn't real," she said. "We were drunk! It doesn't count!"
"Actually, it's completely legal." He sat down on the chair like this was a normal Tuesday. "We signed it. Two witnesses. All official."
"Then we'll annul it! Today! Right now!"
"Or..." Rohan leaned forward. "You could stay married to me for six months. And I'll give you seventy-five million dollars."
Avery's mouth fell open. "What?"
"Seventy-five million. Cash. Tax-free. All you have to do is pretend to be my wife for six months."
"Are you out of your mind?"
"Probably. But think about it, Avery. Your bakery is drowning in debt. The bank is going to take it next month. This money could save everything."
She hated that he was right. She hated him for knowing about her problems.
"Why?" she asked. "Why would you want this?"
His jaw tightened. "My grandfather's will. I need to be married to inherit my company. If I'm not married in 30 days, my cousin Arjun gets everything."
"So find someone else!"
"There's no time. And we're already married." He stood up. "Six months, Avery. Separate bedrooms. Clear rules. After that, we divorce quietly. You never see me again."
Avery's mind was racing. Seventy-five million dollars. Her grandmother's bakery saved. No more sleepless nights about money.
But this was Rohan Rathore. Her enemy.
"I need time to think," she said.
"You have 24 hours." He walked to the door, then stopped. "Oh, and Avery? Don't try to run. We're legally married now. Running won't change that."
He left.
Avery sat down on the bed, her head spinning. Then her phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number.
Unknown: "Congratulations on your marriage, Avery. We need to talk. About your new husband's secrets. Secrets he's not telling you. Meet me tonight. Room 2847. Come alone. Trust me, you'll want to hear this. - A Friend"
Avery's hands started shaking.
What secrets? What had she gotten herself into?
And who was watching them?