Page 18 of My Big, Fat, Accidental Billionaire Husband

Any minute now, I’ll wake up in my shared hotel room, laugh about this crazy dream with my friends, and go back to my organized, controlled life.

The gold band on my finger catches the light again, and I know with absolute certainty that this disaster is only just beginning.

5

Tatiana

Isit perched on the edge of the obscenely comfortable hotel couch, watching Dominic pace the penthouse suite like a caged tiger. He’s on his fourth phone call in thirty minutes, and with each one, the grooves between his eyebrows deepen.

My head still pounds despite the aspirin. The worst hangover of my life hasn’t even begun to clear, but the crisis management part of my brain, you know, the part that makes me exceptional at my job, is finally kicking into gear despite the fog.

“No, that won’t work,” Dom barks into his phone, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. “Because it’s already all over the fucking internet, Arthur!” He shoots a glance my way, his expression darkening further. “How long until you get here?”

I tune out his voice and focus on my own phone. I should be calling my friends, letting them know I’m all right, but I can’t bring myself to face them. Not yet.

I decide to check Social Media. Part of me doesn’t want to look, but the professional in me needs to assess the damage. It can’t be that bad, right?

Wrong.

Social media is absolutely exploding with photos of us. Headlines flash across my screen as I scroll:

“BILLIONAIRE DOMINIC ROSSI’S SURPRISE VEGAS WEDDING”

“WHO IS TATIANA COLE? MYSTERY WOMAN SNAGS NYC’S MOST ELIGIBLE BACHELOR”

“EXCLUSIVE: ROSSI WEDS ASSISTANT IN DRUNKEN VEGAS CEREMONY”

Jesus.

My stomach drops.Assistant. Of course that’s how they’d describe me. Not business administration graduate, not competent professional with a promising career trajectory. Just an assistant who snagged herself a rich man.

It’s exactly how I told Dominic they’d frame it.

The thought makes my blood boil even as my eyes sting with tears I refuse to shed.

“Yes, I understand the stakes,” Dom continues, his voice tight. “The investors are already calling? Fuck.”

I need to talk to someone who isn’t currently melting down about billion-dollar deals. Someone who might actually care about my side of this nightmare.

I tap Sabrina’s number and slip into the bathroom for privacy.

She answers on the first ring. “Tatiana! Oh my god, are you okay? When I made it back to our room and you weren’t there I assumed the worst... and then we saw the news and—”

“Slow down,” I whisper, sinking onto the marble floor. “I’m fine.Physically, at least.”

“Where are you? We’ve been worried sick!”

“I’m in Dom’s suite at the Bellagio.” I take a deep breath. “He’s my... we’re married.”

The silence on the other end lasts exactly three seconds before she explodes.

“WHAT? So the headlines are real? You actually married Dominic Rossi?”

“Apparently.” I examine the simple gold band on my finger. “I don’t remember any of it. After those shots Leo gave us, everything’s blank.”

“We’re all in the same boat,” she admits. “None of us remember anything after the cabana. I woke up in Leo’s room, but we were both fully dressed, thank god.” She pauses. “Wait, so you don’t remember the ceremony? Or... anything after?”

My face heats up as I recall waking up naked beside Dom. “Not the ceremony. And not... well, you know.”

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