Page 46 of My Big, Fat, Accidental Billionaire Husband

“But a Vegas wedding? That’s not like you, honey. After... well, after what happened with Rylan, I thought you’d want something traditional.”

The mention of Rylan’s name sends an icy spike through my chest. Rylan. The man who left me standing alone at the altar two years ago. The source of the worst humiliation of my life.

“This was different, Mom,” I say, my voice tight. “It just felt... right.”

I’m gonna need a fire extinguisher for my pants at this rate...

“Well, your father and I are just shocked. But happy for you, of course! When can we meet him?”

I close my eyes. This is the worst part. Dragging my parents into this charade.

“We’re both really busy right now. His resort project is in a critical phase. But soon, I promise.”

We chat for a few more moments. I deflect questions about a reception or family celebration. By the time I hang up, I’m officially running late.

“Shit, shit, shit,” I mutter, rushing through my shower and morning routine in record time. I throw on one of my new power suits... a charcoal gray number with subtle pinstripes that screams “competent executive” rather than “billionaire’s arm candy.”

Jake is waiting when I emerge in the lobby downstairs. “Good morning, Mrs. Rossi. The car is ready whenever you are.”

“Thanks, Jake. And seriously, call me Tatiana.”

“Yes, Mrs. Rossi.”

Grr...

The ride to Blackwell Innovations is surreal. I’ve made this commute hundreds of times before, but never with a security detail, never in a luxury town car, and certainly never as the temporary bride of Dominic Rossi.

Dom’s security guys wait in the building lobby as I take the elevator up to Christopher’s office.

The moment I take a seat behind the reception desk, my intercom buzzes.

“Would you join me, Tatiana?” he says.

Great. This should be fun.

Christopher is waiting in his office, scrolling through emails. He looks up when I enter.

“Tatiana,” he says, his voice carefully neutral. “How’s married life?”

We’d already talked about this yesterday. Why—

Then understanding dawns.

“Dom told you everything.” It’s not a question.

Christopher leans back in his chair. “He did.”

Of course he did.

Christopher adds: “Quite a predicament you two have gotten yourselves into.”

“It’s under control,” I assure him, slipping into my professional persona. “It won’t affect my work here.”

“I know it won’t.” He hands me a folder. “The Singapore deal. And...” he pauses, “if you need time for your, ah, other commitments, let me know.”

“Thank you,” I say, grateful he’s not making this awkward. “I appreciate your understanding.”

When I get to my desk, I pull up the contractor proposals Dom sent. Might as well multitask. Between meetings and my regular workload, I manage to review three of the five proposals by lunch.

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