I Slapped My Fiancé—Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis

I stayed late at Nyx Collective.

Midnight late.

Everyone else had bailed hours ago, but I was still at my desk, hunched over my laptop.

Technically, I was working.

Realistically? I was hiding.

From Ashton.

From the terrifying possibility that he might suggest we consummate our brand-new, totally normal, definitely not weird marriage with a roll in the hay.

ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴠɪsɪᴛ NovᴇlFɪre.ɴet

Because I was scared I’d say yes without blinking.

Or worse—what if I was the one to bring it up?

Sure, we were legally husband and wife now.

But the only time we’d actually slept together, I’d been blackout drunk and didn’t even know his name.

Still, from the fragments I did remember, he’d been... insane. Stupidly good.