Marrying My Cheating Ex's Billionaire Boss

Alena dragged her suitcase out of the JFK arrivals terminal. The biting November wind whipped against her neck, forcing her to pull the collar of her trench coat tight against her skin.

She pulled her phone from her pocket, her thumb hovering over the power button. She couldn't wait to hear Darrin's voice.

The screen lit up. Instantly, a barrage of notifications flooded the glass. Fifteen unread messages. The rapid, sharp pings vibrating against her palm made her stomach tighten.

She tapped the top message from her best friend. It was a link marked urgent.

The webpage stalled for a fraction of a second. Then, a massive, high-resolution photo loaded onto her screen.

The air vanished from Alena's lungs.

It was the grand ballroom of The Plaza Hotel. In the center of the frame, her fiancé, Darrin, was kissing a woman. He was holding her face, his eyes closed in deep devotion.

The woman was Katrina. Alena's older sister.

Alena's fingers began to shake. The tremor started in her wrists and violently traveled up her arms. She tapped Darrin's contact and pressed call.

The phone rang once before a cold, automated voice informed her she had reached his voicemail.

The last shred of hope in her chest snapped.

She spun around and stepped into the street, throwing her hand up. A yellow cab screeched to a halt. The driver took one look at her pale, bloodless face and hesitated.

Alena didn't speak. She ripped a hundred-dollar bill from her wallet and threw it onto the passenger seat.

The cab lurched forward, crawling through the brutal Manhattan rush hour. Outside the window, the neon lights of the city blurred into sharp, stinging streaks of color.

Her mind raced, flashing back to just a week ago when Darrin had held her hands, looking deeply into her eyes and promising her a lifetime of loyalty. The memory of his soft, assuring voice now felt like a serrated blade sawing against her ribs. How long had this been going on? How long had Katrina been smiling at her across the dinner table, playing the supportive older sister, while secretly sleeping with the man Alena was supposed to marry? Katrina had always competed with her-for their parents' attention, for the best grades, for the spotlight-but this was a level of cruelty Alena couldn't comprehend. The sheer magnitude of the betrayal suffocated her.

Tears finally spilled over her eyelashes, hot and fast, burning her cold cheeks.

When the cab stopped, Alena shoved the door open. The Plaza Hotel loomed above her. The heavy glass revolving doors were pushed open by a doorman.

The faint, elegant sound of a cello drifted out from the lobby. It sounded like a dull blade scraping against her eardrums.

She lifted the hem of her coat and walked toward the grand ballroom. Two security guards in dark suits stepped into her path, blocking the entrance.

"Invitation, please," one of them said.

Alena stared at his chest. "I am Alena Payne. The