The Billionaire’s Pretend Fiancée

Sofie’s POV

I sighed as I rubbed my clammy hands on the apron that was firmly looped around my waist.

The day had been quite tiring for me.

I wanted nothing more than to go home, flop onto my bed, and sleep until tomorrow afternoon—even though I knew that was impossible.

I was about to sit down on a stool behind the counter to briefly rest my aching legs when I felt a shadow loom over me.

Regardless, I sat down, but I scoffed inwardly upon seeing who it was.

“Take that order to table fifteen and be fast with it. Stop being a sloth,” Daphne Humphreys, a coworker who was also the restaurant owner’s girlfriend, spat condescendingly at me.

“I’ve been working since the day began, Daphne. How exactly am I a sloth? And if you cared to know about the affairs of the restaurant, you would know that we are on a break at the moment,” I responded coolly, but with a warning note in my voice.

I was exhausted, and I didn’t want to take my anger out on anyone.

Especially not on Daphne, who could easily get me fired by the boss.

I often wondered whether Daphne or the boss ran the restaurant.

“Are you talking back to me? The fucking nerve you have, you dirty brat! Don’t worry, I will report you to Richard. How dare you speak to me in such a rude tone?” Daphne barked like someone who a dog had just bitten.

I squeezed my eyes shut to repress the biting insult that was threatening to tear out of my mouth before I opened my eyes once more.

I got up from the stool and looked Daphne in the eye. “I never spoke rudely to you. I was just enlightening you on what you may have forgotten.” I paused to glance down at her wristwatch. “I have to go now; break is over. Excuse me.” And with that, I walked back to the kitchen before Daphne could respond.

I had lied.

I wasn’t on a break. My break had long passed.

But since Daphne was dumb as fuck, I easily fooled her.

I inwardly praised myself as I carried the tray of piping hot food to the main dining area of the restaurant.

I made sure to avoid Daphne’s piercing glare as much as I could.

And before I knew it, I was done with work for the day.

I peeled off my work clothes and placed them into my assigned locker before pulling on my T-shirt and jeans.

Afterward, I grabbed my bag and left the restaurant.

The thought of heading home made my heart throb with trepidation and a heavy sense of foreboding.

I lived with my abusive parents in a small house a few blocks away from the restaurant, and I hated it.

I hated going back home to my parents and desperately hoped for the day that I would move out of their place.

They were chronic drunkards and thieves who always stole my money to fund their disgraceful alcoholic lifestyles. Whenever I confronted them about it, they would flare up at me, and sometimes, they would even beat the living hell out of me.

Lately, I had started saving some money to get my own apartment, but I had yet to save even a quarter of what I needed.

With a sigh, I pushed the wobbly gate open, inwardly hoping my parents weren’t home.

The sight that met my eyes when I turned around made me gasp in fright.

Four muscular men with clean-shaven heads were standing in front of the main entrance to the house.

They were all dressed in black suits with matching sunglasses, which made them look even scarier.

My voice failed me for a brief moment as I tentatively walked toward them.

Had my parents borrowed money from a loan shark again? Had they come to take the house as collateral?

“Welcome home, Madam.” They all bowed to me in unison, making me frown and step back.

Madam? What was going on?

“Who are you people, and what do you want?” I asked, ignoring their greetings.

They didn’t respond anymore; instead, they just stood stiffly.

That made my heart hammer violently against my chest.

It seemed my parents were home because I could hear low murmuring from inside the house.

Were my parents being tortured? Who else was inside the house with them?

Taking a deep breath to calm my anxiety, I hurriedly brushed past one of the scary-looking men and into the house.

“Mom, Dad, I told you to st—” The rest of my sentence caught in my throat as I took in the living room.

My parents were comfortably seated on a sofa beside a strange old man, chatting animatedly with him as if they were long-time friends.

The man couldn’t be their friend. He looked too wealthy even to be associated with them.

Sitting in the center of the living room in his expensive suit with a cigar between his fingers, he looked like a misfit amidst the shabby furniture.

“Darling, you have arrived. We have been waiting for you for quite some time now,” Mom spoke with a false cheerfulness in her voice as she darted a fake smile toward me.

Something wasn’t right.

I couldn’t even remember the last time my parents had called me “Sofie,” let alone called me by a pet name.

They always called me a slut or a whore.

“You were right, Alphonso. She is such a dazzling beauty,” the man said, nodding as he stared at me lasciviously.

I had to bite my lip to prevent myself from rudely telling the man off.

“Of course, she takes after her mother. She is Veronica’s spitting image,” Dad said, and they all laughed heartily, the man’s lustful gaze still not leaving my body.

“Have you greeted our visitor yet?” Dad asked in his usual demeaning tone, darting a glare at me.

“Oh, no, it’s alright, Alphonso. She’s probably shocked to see me. Don’t worry about that.” The man waved him off, and the fake smile was back on his face instantly.

“Sweetie, come sit next to your mother,” Mom said, and somehow, my legs led me to sit beside her.

Mom wrapped a firm arm around me, almost crushing my shoulder in the process. “Alexander, this is Sofie, our daughter. And Sofie, this is Sir Alexander Guilon, my former boss and your soon-to-be husband.” She grinned, and I saw red.

I yanked myself up from the chair and glared from Dad and Mom to Alexander, who still had that shit-eating grin plastered to his wrinkled face.

“What the fuck do you mean by that? Who is whose soon-to-be husband?” I barked.

“Honey, calm down. We discussed this earlier, and you were okay with it. What’s with the sudden rage?” Dad lied smoothly, and I scoffed.

“You discussed what with me? Even if you did, why the fuck would I have agreed with you? It’s not as if I’m insane or something,” I hollered, enraged.

Turning to Alexander, I mustered the sweetest smile I could offer. “I don’t know what they may have told you, but I never agreed to this bullshit engagement. I’m not getting married to you. You should look for your bride elsewhere, thank you.”

“Pearl, we can work this out like responsible adults, can’t we? I will take good care of you, my darling. I will treat you right,” Alexander said, to which I snorted maliciously.

“I am not your pearl. I am Sofie, and I would rather eat mud than marry you. Excuse me,” I retorted, darting one final glare at my parents and Alexander before picking up my bag and trudging out of the house.

I ignored the confused stares I got from the bodyguards as I stepped past them and out of the gate, angry tears welling up in my eyes and blurring my vision.

I had no idea where I was even going at that time of night, but one question sizzled in my mind as I walked.

What the hell had just happened?