Renting Billionaire Boyfriend

Author Note: Hey readers, This book delves into the darker side of romance, featuring explicit language, scenes, and fast pace romance intertwined with a stalker trope. Please be aware that the content is intense and may not be suitable for everyone. If you enjoy dark romance novels and want to stay updated, follow me to my f*******: group, Tracy Readrats, for more insights and discussions. Happy reading! Tracy Raisel – POV My eyes are glued to the phone screen, fingers hovering above the display, waiting—hoping—for a message from Alaric. But there’s nothing. The silence gnaws at me. Maybe he’s just busy at work, I tell myself, trying to smother the dread creeping into my chest. I turn my attention to the charity event I’m dressing for, pulling a white, sleeveless dress from my wardrobe. The cream hue feels almost symbolic—pure, simple, like the trust I thought we had. I slip into it, the square neckline framing my collarbones, where a delicate pearl necklace rests. Even dressed, I glance back at my phone. Still nothing. I dial Hazel, my best friend. The phone rings, and she picks up, her voice a familiar comfort. “Hey, are you bringing a plus one?” I ask, my voice thin, trying to act normal. “Not this time. Coming stag, as usual,” Hazel replies, her tone light, though it does little to ease the ache in my chest. “Wait, did Alaric bail on you again?” she asks cautiously, her words landing like soft punches. I swallow hard. “Yeah,” I admit, my voice cracking with the weight of disappointment. “I’ll come pick you up,” she offers immediately. She doesn’t say anything else, knowing better than to poke at the fragile defense I’ve built around Alaric. She knows I’ll snap if she brings up the rumors—about Davina, his new secretary. His old flame. No, I won’t believe it. Alaric loves me. He loves me. Our love is strong enough, right? Hazel arrives, and together we head to the event. “I swear, I hate these charity events,” she mutters under her breath as we reach the entrance. I laugh, but it’s forced. “You hate them because you never find good eye candy here.” Hazel pouts. “True. But my mom’s convinced I’ll meet the man of my dreams at one of these.” She rolls her eyes, adding, “I wish she’d understand that book boyfriends are the only men who can meet my standards.” I laugh again, this time a little more real. “I get it. Book husbands are perfect. Sometimes, I feel like I married one.” Hazel’s raised eyebrow tells me she’s not buying it. She’s never liked Alaric. Thinks he’s using me. But I’ve never understood why she’s so against him. We step into the event, the crowd buzzing around us, and I feel a wave of social anxiety wash over me. I hand Hazel a drink, barely paying attention to the conversations swirling around. I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself, when Hazel suddenly freezes. I follow her gaze, and my world crumbles. There he is. Alaric. Walking into the event. But he’s not alone. He’s with her. Davina, draped in the red gown I had ordered for myself—for our anniversary. She clings to his arm, her lips hovering near his ear, whispering something that makes him smile. My heart drops into the pit of my stomach as his eyes meet mine. The shock on his face is unmistakable. He hadn’t expected me here. I told him I might skip the event if he didn’t show up. And yet, here he is—parading his betrayal in front of me, in front of everyone. I can’t breathe. It feels like a nightmare. A horror film playing out in slow motion. “What is this?” I shout, my voice shaking, the anger and disbelief spilling out. People are staring now. Cameras are flashing. Alaric doesn’t flinch. “Isn’t it obvious?” he says, his voice disturbingly calm. “I’m with the woman I love.” I choke on my own breath. His words feel like knives. He walks towards me, hand in hand with Davina, like I’m nothing but an afterthought. “I want a divorce,” he says bluntly, standing inches away from me. “I’ve been hiding this relationship long enough. I want Davina. Not you.” The world tilts, and tears burn in my eyes. I can’t stop them. I slap him, hard, the sound echoing in the stunned silence around us. “You bastard,” I hiss through my sobs. “I defended you. I trusted you. I stood by you, believing you would never hurt me. But you…you’ve destroyed everything. You made a fool of me.” My voice is a broken whisper, but every word drips with pain. “I gave you my love, my life, and this is how you repay me?” Alaric’s face hardens, and his next words cut deeper than anything he’s said before. “You’re nothing, Raisel. You’re just a housewife, clinging to the idea that you have some value. But you don’t. You’re a freeloader. Davina, she’s driven, she’s helped me build my success. You? You’re just dead weight. I don’t need you anymore.” Each word hits like a hammer, breaking every part of me I thought was strong. The humiliation, the agony—it’s too much. I can’t bear it. I turn and run, the tears blurring everything as I push through the crowd, through the flashing lights of the paparazzi. I trip, nearly falling in my heels, but before I can hit the ground, strong arms catch me. I look up, dazed, and my breath catches in my throat. “Soren?” I whisper, barely believing my eyes. It’s him—my best friend from college, the one who disappeared five years ago without a trace. He’s here, standing in front of me when I need him most. His hazel eyes bore into mine, his face unreadable. His bodyguard leans in, whispering something, but I can’t focus on anything but Soren. His gaze shifts past me, towards the entrance, where Alaric and Davina stand, smug and victorious. Soren turns back to me, his expression softening. “Remember in college, when I pretended to be your boyfriend to scare off all the jerks?” he whispers, his voice a lifeline in the chaos. “Let’s do that again. Only this time, I don’t need any pay.” I look between Soren and Alaric, torn, shattered, my heart in pieces. And yet, in this moment, I feel something else stir. Something I haven’t felt in a long time.