His Naive Wife (My Arranged Marriage to a Billionaire #1) Read Online Marian Tee

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire Tags Authors: Series: My Arranged Marriage to a Billionaire Series by Marian Tee
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Total pages in book: 16
Estimated words: 15283 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 76(@200wpm)___ 61(@250wpm)___ 51(@300wpm)
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“So I see my father found another daddy for me,” she says sardonically.

“Hi, Emilee?” I’m⁠—”

“Shhh,” she says with a perfectly manicured finger in front of her lips. “Sorry to waste your time, old man, but I’m already taken. My dad doesn’t get to pick who I’m marrying.”

She enters her father’s office and pulls the door closed behind her.

In a daze, I somehow make my way back to my car. I’m left speechless, stunned, and in awe of her. I feel like a schoolboy with his first crush, but I know there’s something more there. I can feel it. I used to tease my brother when he would say he was looking for his spark. I would tell him that it was foolish, something made up in books. But not only did I finally understand it, I felt it. As I slide into my car, I pull out my cell phone and text Emil.

I’m in. Whatever you want, I’ll do it. I want to marry your daughter.

Emilee

Iopen my eyes and stretch as I look around Dylan’s studio apartment for him. He lives in a converted loft that once was a warehouse. The front door is on rails, and it locks with a padlock I’ve never seen him use. The room is echoey and cold, but it feels like it’s made for him.

He’s standing naked in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, looking at his phone. He’s thin and muscular with shoulder-length hair, a perfectly groomed beard, and a little too much body hair. But I love him.

“Come back to bed,” I say.

He grunts, mumbles something, then continues looking at his phone. While I wait, I quickly run my fingers through my black hair, then position myself on my side, with the sheet draped over my breasts and hips but nothing else. I think I look seductive and can’t wait for him to turn and notice me.

But he doesn’t.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

He grunts again and then glances over at me. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

I wince at his words but then tell myself that he’s just being nice, thinking about my time. I must have told him about my dad asking to talk this afternoon. It’s a conversation I dread having.

“No, I can stay here all day if you want,” I say.

He looks at his watch, then back to his phone.

“I have things to do,” he says.

I stay in my sexy position, still waiting for him to notice. After several minutes, he starts typing on his phone.

“Who are you texting?” I ask.

“My girlfriend.”

I giggle and pick up my phone, waiting for a text from him, but it doesn’t come. I sit up in bed, pulling the sheet up to cover myself more, and check my phone again. Nothing.

I check to make sure I’m not in a dead zone, then close and reopen the app. Nothing. I reboot my phone. Something has to be wrong with my phone for me not to get his text. Still, nothing.

“I don’t get it,” I say. “Was that a joke?”

“Huh?” he asks. “You confuse me sometimes, baby.” He picks up his boxers from the floor and puts them on. “Has your dad said anything about promoting me yet?”

“No, not yet.”

“You asked him, right?”

“Yes, several times. He doesn’t want to hear it.”

Dylan pulls the sheet down, exposing my body. “You like how I’m taking care of you, right, baby?” His hand slides up my thigh, giving me goosebumps.

“Of course, you know I love you,” I say.

“Then why haven’t you gotten me that job? If you really loved me, you would.”

“But it’s not up to me. You know I love you. I love you so much. And you love me too.”

“Does your father know I popped his little girl’s cherry?”

“Don’t say it like that,” I say. “You make it sound like this is all about sex.”

He grunts and gets up from the bed.

“He knows we’re dating and that we love each other.”

“Mmm hmm,” he says as he looks at his phone again.

I pull the sheet up, feeling exposed suddenly. Dylan is back to ignoring me. What did I do wrong?

“I love you,” I say.

Dylan heads to the kitchen and grabs a beer from the fridge. With his head still in his phone, he sits down at a small wooden table and begins to drink.

“Dylan?”

“Oh, sorry, baby. Did you want one?”

“No. Did you hear what I said?”

“No, I wasn’t paying attention. Was it something about your dad?”

“I love you.”

“Okay, baby.”

“You love me, right?”

“Sure, baby. Get me that promotion, and I’ll love you even more.”

I tell myself he has to be joking. I start to think about the times he’s told me he loves me and realize he’s never actually said it.

“You said we would be together forever,” I say. “So you must love me, right?”

“Why are you doubting me, baby? I told you, arrange everything with your dad and we can be together all the time. Get me a piece of that pie.”


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