The Runaway Asset: Betraying My Billionaire Father

Elodie Jimenez stared at the floor-to-ceiling mirror in the penthouse suite of the Plaza Hotel. The reflection staring back was flawless, a vision of bridal perfection that cost more than most people earned in a decade. The silk of the couture engagement dress clung to her ribs like a second skin, white and pristine. But inside that expensive casing, her stomach rolled. A wave of nausea climbed up her throat, tasting of bile and panic. She swallowed it down. She was good at swallowing things down. Fear. Anger. The truth.

Her mother, Mrs. Jimenez, swept into the room. She did not knock. Privacy was a luxury Elodie had lost the moment she turned eighteen and became marriageable.

Stand up straight, Elodie, her mother said, her eyes scanning the hem of the dress for imperfections rather than looking at her daughter's face. You are slouching. The photographers will be here in twenty minutes.

Elodie pulled her shoulders back. The bones in her spine cracked audibly. She felt like a doll being arranged in a box.

Is Kade here yet? Elodie asked. Her voice sounded thin, reedy.

Her mother waved a hand, dismissing the question as if it were a fly.

It does not matter when he arrives, as long as he is on the podium by eight. The Senator is already downstairs with the press. Do not embarrass us.

Mrs. Jimenez adjusted a stray lock of hair on Elodie's forehead, her fingers cold and dry. Then she turned and left, leaving the scent of expensive lilies in her wake. It smelled like a funeral parlor.

Elodie needed air. The walls of the suite, covered in silk wallpaper, felt like they were closing in. She walked to the balcony doors and pushed them open. The November air of New York City hit her face, biting and cold. It should have felt refreshing. Instead, it felt like a warning.

Below, the hum of the city was drowned out by the noise of the engagement party starting on the terrace beneath her. Jazz music floated up, cheerful and oblivious.

Then she heard a voice. It was a baritone rumble she knew better than her own heartbeat. Her father. Hazen Jimenez.

She froze. She pressed her back against the cold stone divider of the balcony. He was on the adjacent terrace, just out of sight.

The merger is solid, Senator, Hazen said. His voice had that smooth, shark-like quality he used in boardrooms.

I am worried about the girl, another voice said. Senator Clay. Kade's father. She seems... hesitant.

Hazen laughed. It was a dry, humorless sound.

Elodie does what she is told. She understands her role. This marriage is not a union, Clay. It is an acquisition. She is the final asset needed to seal the port deal. Once the papers are signed, the infrastructure contracts are ours.

Elodie stopped breathing. Her lungs seized.

Asset.

Not daughter. Not bride. Asset.

She had known, deep down, that this marriage to Kade Clay was advantageous for