Forced to be with the Billionaire

Forced to be with the Billionaire

book_age18+
231
FOLLOW
1.6K
READ
revenge
love-triangle
contract marriage
family
HE
fated
forced
opposites attract
friends to lovers
arranged marriage
heir/heiress
drama
sweet
serious
bold
office/work place
cheating
lies
love at the first sight
addiction
assistant
like
intro-logo
Blurb

Scarlett’s POV

“You may now kiss the bride,” the priest said.

I looked at the man who had barely spared me a glance four years ago.

My sister’s fiancé.

The man I once tried to impress with a red velvet cupcake.

The man I secretly crushed on for months.

And most importantly, my boyfriend’s boss.

Jasper Carrington.

He lifted the veil from my face with the kind of precision that made my skin prickle. His eyes met mine, cold, unreadable, and he leaned in.

“Don’t get the wrong impression,” he whispered. “I will never love you.”

He smirked, pulled my face toward his, and kissed me.

The kiss was nothing like the ones I shared with Edward. It was calculated, controlled. Public.

And when I pulled back, my gaze landed on Edward, my boyfriend, staring at me from the front row with hatred burning in his eyes.

That was the moment everything crumbled.

Scarlett White, the youngest daughter of David and Emanuela White, was never supposed to marry Jasper Carrington. That was her sister’s fate.

But when secrets, power, and legacy collide, Scarlett is thrown into a marriage that was never meant to be hers, caught between a man who won’t love her, a boyfriend who now feels like a stranger, and a family willing to risk everything for a merger.

She thought she knew heartbreak.

She had no idea.

ic_default
chap-preview
Free preview
Prologue
Scarlett’s POV Four Years Ago The elevator doors whispered open like a secret, and I clutched the pastry box tighter, trying to steady my breathing. I wasn’t supposed to be here long. Just a quick drop-off. Charles had a meeting at Carrington & Bell today, the Carrington & Bell. The firm was practically legend in legal circles, and Charles, our family’s longtime lawyer and my unofficial uncle, had promised to sneak my college essays to one of the junior partners for feedback. So I thought: cupcakes. A thank-you. Something small but sweet. But now, standing in the lobby with my heels too loud on the marble floor, my blazer too stiff, and my nerves tangled into knots, I wasn’t so sure this had been a good idea. I turned a corner. Then slammed into someone hard. My body jolted. The box tipped sideways. A cupcake catapulted through the air, and landed with a thick, wet splat against a navy-blue suit. “Oh my God…” I gasped. The lid flopped open. Red velvet c*****e everywhere. I scrambled back a step, heart pounding, the air sucked from my lungs. “I, I am so, so sorry…” He looked down at the frosting sliding down his lapel, then up at me. His face was unreadable. No irritation. No amusement. Just ice. “I have a meeting in three minutes,” he said, voice calm but sharp. “Do you usually walk around throwing baked goods at strangers?” The words hit harder than they should have. Like a slap disguised as sarcasm. “I didn’t mean to, please, I can fix this,” I blurted, already dropping the box on the nearest bench and digging through my bag. Napkins. Wallet. Something. Nothing. I yanked a slightly crumpled tissue from my pocket and stepped forward. He stepped back. “Don’t,” he said simply. I froze, tissue in hand. “I, I can pay for the cleaning,” I offered, fumbling with my purse. “Or the suit. Or, God, I didn’t even see you coming. I was just, Charles told me to drop off…” He raised a brow. I stopped rambling. “Never mind,” I mumbled, cheeks burning. His eyes flicked to the smeared frosting again, then back to me. He studied me, not like a person, but like a mistake. One he didn’t have time for. Then, nothing. He turned without another word and walked away, polished shoes echoing like punctuation marks on the marble. The silence swallowed me. I stood there, awkward and humiliated, clutching a damp tissue and a box of ruined cupcakes. The receptionist behind the desk offered me a sympathetic glance, but didn’t speak. My chest ached with embarrassment. My throat tightened. I turned toward the glass conference room, and saw him again. Now seated. Composed. Unbothered. Like he hadn’t just iced my pride and dignity in a single breath. Someone leaned in to whisper something in his ear. He didn’t glance my way. Then I heard it: “Mr. Carrington.” And my heart stuttered. That was him? The Carrington in Carrington & Bell? I’d just humiliated myself in front of the firm’s freaking poster boy. The one Charles always raved about. Brilliant. Disciplined. Untouchable. I blinked at the frosting drying on the floor. So much for making a good impression. I should’ve left right then, but I didn’t. Because even as the shame burned behind my ribs, something deeper took root. Something I didn’t understand yet. Not attraction. Not quite. But awareness. Of how he hadn’t raised his voice. Or broken eye contact. Or softened. He’d seen me at my absolute worst… and dismissed me like lint. That shouldn’t have stuck with me. But it did. I should’ve forgotten him. Filed the encounter away under “mortifying experiences” and buried it beneath the weight of everyday life. But I didn’t. Later that night, after scraping cupcake frosting off the inside of my bag and soaking my ruined napkin in dish soap, I did the thing I told myself I wouldn’t. I opened my laptop. Typed: Jasper Carrington. The results were instant. Headlines. Photos. Business articles. Forbes 30 Under 30: The Relentless Rise of Jasper Carrington. The Legal Star Everyone Wants on Their Side. Carrington & Bell Secures Record Settlement under Rising Partner. In every photo, he looked the same: composed, clean-cut, slightly distant. Expensive suit, sharp jawline, unreadable eyes. And completely out of reach. I scrolled slowly, my fingers hesitating over each image. I tried to justify it. It wasn’t a crush. Of course not. It was just… curiosity. Academic interest. I’d made a fool of myself, and now I wanted to know who I’d made a fool of myself in front of. That was all. But the lie didn’t even convince me. Because when I found a picture of him smiling, rare, subtle, not quite warm, I stared too long. And when I saw a candid shot of him outside the courthouse, sleeves rolled up, tie loosened, jaw clenched, I saved it. Just in case. I told myself it didn’t matter. I’d never see him again. The chances were slim. Still, I remembered the way his voice sliced through me. Do you usually walk around throwing baked goods at strangers? God. He’d probably forgotten me the moment he sat down. But I didn’t forget him. Even when I tried. Especially when I tried. I tried to shake him off, Jasper Carrington and his stupid suit and colder-than-winter attitude, but the image of him stuck. Still, I wasn’t planning to bring it up. Not until Charles called later that night to check in. “How’d it go?” he asked warmly, his familiar baritone echoing over the phone. “You drop off the cupcakes?” I hesitated. “Sort of. I… I accidentally redecorated someone’s suit with red velvet.” A pause. Then a laugh. “You what?” “I ran into someone in the hallway, literally. The frosting flew. His suit caught it. He looked like he wanted to sue me with his eyes.” “Oh no.” Charles chuckled. “Let me guess, tall, stiff, kind of looks like he was born wearing cufflinks?” I blinked. “Yeah.” “That was Jasper.” I groaned. “Of course it was.” “He’s all bark, don’t worry,” Charles said. “I practically watched Jasper grow up. Sharp mind, sharp tongue, but he’s not a bad guy. Just… not big on small talk.” “Yeah,” I muttered, tugging my comforter around my legs. “I noticed.” “Don’t let it get to you. He forgets names, but never a case file. Carrington’s a machine, but he means well underneath.” “Sure,” I said quietly. But the heat in my cheeks had nothing to do with embarrassment anymore. After we hung up, I shut the laptop, but I didn’t delete the photo. I stared at the ceiling long after the lights were off, whispering the name that I’d pretend didn’t matter. Jasper Carrington. The first man to make me feel seen, even if it was just long enough to make me feel small.

editor-pick
Dreame-Editor's pick

bc

Love Beyond Numbers

read
3.1K
bc

In The Arms Of My Ex's Elder Brother.

read
4.5K
bc

The Luna He Rejected (Extended version)

read
438.7K
bc

My Legendary Alpha Mate

read
86.4K
bc

Dominating the Dominatrix

read
47.8K
bc

Claimed by my Brother’s Best Friends

read
534.0K
bc

Got Pregnant With My Ex-Boss's Baby

read
60.0K

Scan code to download app

download_iosApp Store
google icon
Google Play
Facebook