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The Billionaire’s Trial Wife

(Warning, rated 18, No Rape)    Harley is a twenty-two year old unwanted daughter of a millionaire businessman, nothing short of a troublemaker to get back at her cruel father. When a risky contract arises between her father and the Billionaire Sylus Jones, she is forced into a trial marriage with Sylus—a man who is both an enemy and, strangely, a charm.   A kind of dislike, hatred, and the need to destroy each other while aware the contract is on the line burns between these two. However, provoking a man like Sylus is probably not the best idea…or the safest. But then again, Harley Legan Eun-kyung has never been good at playing it safe. Things begin to get a lot more complicated when this marriage is unfortunately made public against their initial agreement and plans. Can these two keep in mind that this marriage is nothing short of a facade that will end in two months?  Probably not. But how will they survive this trial marriage when there's nothing to like about each other? When all they do is bicker and fight, hating everything about each other? How will they learn to live with each other? And how will they learn to deal with the burning desire—the flickering need, that had ignited between the two of them, one that proved hard to overlook?  Each is what the other desires. But each is also what the other hates. 

AngelLily · Ciudad
Sin suficientes valoraciones
140 Chs

HARLEY: Ahjussi

"Sylus!" 

My face screwed into a deep frown as I glared at Sylus, who'd dragged me out of the elevator, walking me out of the house. He'd made me dress up this morning without a clue of what was going on, and now he still wouldn't let me know where in the world he was taking me. 

I wriggled, trying to snatch my hand back, but his grip was tight. "Sylus, where are we going?" 

"To see my family." He pulled the door of the BMW open, shoved me into the passenger seat, and locked the seat belt before I could protest. 

"Sylus—" He slammed the door shut in my face, and I watched him angrily from the corner of my eyes as he made his way over to the other side to sit on the driver's seat.

"I don't want to see your family."

 

"You don't have a choice," Sylus said, taking a reverse and speeding off into the road. A bunch of other cars driven by his guards sped after us, and I sat staring at him. "I do have a choice, Sylus. You just don't tell me what to do, and I'll do it. It doesn't work like that!" 

"HARLEY!" His head whipped to my side, and I held his gaze head-on. "I'm sure your father must have filled you in on how this marriage is going to work. You do your part and I do my part! Do not make this difficult."  

"Difficult? Maybe if you'd told me instead of spawning it on me out of the blue, I wouldn't." My tone was flat, devoid of the anger I felt seething inside of me. How many days had it been since the incident? Five? And he was already dragging me off to his family. 

"Harley."

I was annoyed, averting my gaze to the road. "I may or may not make this difficult for you. Next time, you learn to compromise with me and maybe then, I would do my part!"

 

It was abrupt, but he'd driven over to the side, immediately stopping the car. Before I could even raise a brow, he fisted my shirt, jerking me so close that the scent of his cologne choked me. 

I scowled, grabbing his wrist to free myself. "I'll break your fingers, Sylus. Let go." But this man wasn't budging. "Sylus."

He was really angry.

Sylus's grip on my shirt grew tighter and he inhaled deeply before his cold eyes fell back on me. "Do not do this with me, not today. You are going to see my family, it is not up for negotiation."

"But I'd like to negotiate," I bit back.

"There is no room for that," he said, shutting his eyes for a moment. "Not today. My sister is a journalist, it's her job, one which she enjoys and I can't give her a reason to put us on a damn tabloid, do you understand? Just because I am her brother doesn't mean I'm an exception to her writings, she isn't that kind. So this marriage has to work one way or the other. That contract...? It is very important to your father and me."

I started at him, clenching and unclenching my fists before I looked away with a groan. "Just for today?"

"Just for today," he repeated and let go of me, turning the engine back on to speed off down the road. 

The entire ride was in complete silence and opening my eyes was when the car finally came to a stop, the engine turned off. 

I looked up to the massive manor, much smaller than Sylus's house, and chewed on my bottom lip. I was nervous. Sylus didn't understand. I wasn't good with crowds or people I had never met before. They made me feel anxious and out of place, and I hated that feeling.  

"Why are you so nervous?" Sylus asked, abprutly. He'd been watching me every now and then. "Is this too much for you?" 

My eyes immediately snapped to him. "It's none of your business. Don't pretend like you care." And I stormed after him as he glared at me and began walking to the entrance of the manor. 

We stepped in together, and upon arriving at what I believed was a guest dining room, we came to a stop. 

They'd been expecting us. 

A middle-aged man who looked everything like Sylus sat at the head chair, and on the right side of the table, a young woman, curly haired and brown-eyed, sat. She didn't have any resemblance to Sylus, but I knew she was his sister. Her eyes were just as brown as his father's and her hair, it was just as curly as his.

There was no one else, just these two. 

Sylus grabbed my hand, and the closer we got, I hunched, bowing to the old man. "Ahjussi." 

"So this is her?" He was speaking to Sylus, his voice rough and cold.

Sylus gave a nod. "She's Amadeo's last daughter."

The old man completely ignored my existence, but while he pretended not to have his eyes on me, I could feel his peripheral stare, sizing me up as if gauging my value. The sister, on the other hand, was not at all hiding her displeasure. No, she disliked me. Why? I'd never met any of them before. 

I smiled in response to the situation, and the sudden ringing of Sylus's phone had me looking his away. "Give me a minute," he said to his father and left the dining room, leaving me alone with the two.

I felt like a prey.

The middle-aged man looked at me from head to toe. "Have a seat." And I did. I sat down, swallowing the stupid nausea that was building up in my throat. I wasn't afraid, but I didn't like new faces. 

A piece of paper was suddenly slapped onto the table, and I dragged my eyes off Mr. Jones to the paper. "What is this?"

He stared daggers at me as if he expected me to know. 

"Divorce papers, Harley Legan." His wrinkly lips stretched into a deadly grin. "Sign. Them."