My Boyfriend Of 10 Years Cheated On Me — So I Married The Billionaire CEO He Despises

Part 1

The pounding in my head was a rhythmic drumbeat of regret as I forced my eyes open to an unfamiliar ceiling.

My mouth tasted like dry ash.

I tried to sit up, but the heavy down comforter tangled around my legs.

A man was standing near the floor-to-ceiling windows, adjusting his tie.

I blinked against the glaring morning sunlight.

It was Craig, the billionaire CEO of his massive company.

He was the last person I expected to see.

We hadn’t spoken since our college days, yet here he was, looking immaculate while I felt like a wreck.

Panic seized my chest.

I had no memory of how I got to this penthouse suite.

I scrambled to pull the sheet up to my chin.

My voice cracked as I demanded to know what happened last night.

Craig turned slowly, his expression unreadable.

He informed me that I had been completely intoxicated.

I squeezed my eyes shut, a flash of memory hitting me like a physical blow.

Tyler.

My boyfriend of ten years.

He had been out with Heather, a flashy influencer who had inexplicably become his new favorite colleague.

I had seen them together, laughing in a way that shattered my world.

I gave up my dreams for Tyler.

I packed away my art supplies and took a grueling corporate job just to support his ambitions.

The realization that he was cheating on me had sent me spiraling into the bottom of a cocktail glass.

Craig approached the edge of the bed, his dark eyes studying my pale face.

He stated flatly that his subsidiary was about to go public.

He couldn’t afford any scandals.

My presence in his hotel room was already making waves online.

Apologies tumbled from my lips in a frantic rush while my trembling hands searched the floor for my discarded clothes.

Fixing a public relations disaster of this magnitude felt entirely impossible.

Next to a billionaire CEO, I was nothing but an adopted girl who had foolishly wasted her twenties on a deeply selfish man.

Adjusting his cuffs with slow, meticulous precision, Craig didn’t even blink.

The demand he issued next—to marry him immediately—sucked all the oxygen from the room.

The breath vanished from my lungs.

Staring blankly, I waited for the punchline, but his sharp features remained set in stone.

He picked up his discarded watch from the nightstand, casually fastening the expensive leather band.

A brand-new wife found in a hotel suite transformed a career-ending scandal into a simple passionate evening between newlyweds.

There was no emotion in his delivery, just the crisp efficiency of a boardroom negotiation.

He slid a blank checkbook from his jacket pocket and placed it deliberately onto the glass table.

Once the upcoming IPO finalized, a quiet divorce and a massive settlement would cleanly sever our ties.

My mind raced with the sheer absurdity of it all.

I reminded him that I came from nothing.

I had no prestigious family background to offer him.

He dismissed my concerns with a wave of his hand.

My background meant nothing to him.

He needed a solution, and I was sitting right in front of him.

A twisted sense of determination suddenly flared to life inside me.

Tyler had tossed me aside without a second thought.

Why should I crawl back to a man who didn’t value me?

I looked at Craig and agreed to the deal.

He didn’t waste a single second.

We were getting married right then and there.

The paperwork was filed faster than I could process reality.

By mid-afternoon, I was officially Mrs.

Craig Vanguard.

I marched into Tyler’s office building with my head held high.

My resignation letter felt like a shield in my hand.

Tyler was lounging at his desk, looking smug and completely unbothered.

He assumed I was there to beg for his forgiveness after my drunken display.

He smirked and told me to get back to work.

The heavy paper of my resignation letter landed on his pristine desk with a satisfying slap.

There would be no more grueling shifts covering his lazy mistakes.

A harsh, mocking scoff escaped his lips as he kicked his feet up onto the mahogany surface.

Surviving in this city without his generous protection, he sneered, was completely impossible for a nobody like me.

Holding his gaze without a single flinch, I let the heavy silence stretch.

My brand-new husband, I noted casually, had far more than enough resources to cover my early retirement.

Tyler’s smug grin faltered.

He demanded to know what I was talking about.

I turned on my heel and walked out, leaving him to choke on his own confusion.

The air outside felt cleaner, sharper.

Craig had sent a sleek black car to pick me up.

I settled into the leather seat, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs.

I was headed to Craig’s sprawling mansion to begin my new, fake life.

The driver pulled up to a gated estate that looked more like a modern fortress.

Craig was waiting for me in the grand foyer.

He handed me a velvet box containing a stunning, custom-designed diamond ring.

He told me I deserved only the best.

The way he looked at me made my pulse race.

It wasn’t the cold gaze of a business transaction.

There was a surprising warmth there, a gentle intensity that caught me off guard.

He showed me to a room he had converted into an art studio just for me.

Canvases and expensive paints lined the walls.

He remembered my passion for art, even after a decade.

Tears pricked the corners of my eyes.

No one had supported me like this in years.

I spent the next two days lost in a whirlwind of luxury and confusion.

Craig treated me with a reverence I had never experienced.

He cooked for me, listened to me, and shielded me from the media frenzy.

I found myself smiling, genuinely smiling, for the first time in months.

I was sitting in my new studio, sketching absentmindedly.

I was thinking about my favorite anonymous artist, ‘X’, and how his work always inspired me.

A sudden, violent pounding echoed from the front of the house.

The heavy wooden doors rattled in their frames.

I dropped my charcoal pencil, my stomach dropping to my shoes.

I crept into the hallway, peering toward the entryway.

I turned around, and the blood drained from my face when I saw who was standing in the doorway of my new art studio.