The Billionaire's Secret Heir

The Billionaire's Secret Heir

Bamy Writes · Ongoing · 56.3k Words

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Introduction

"You have no choice, Amelia. Marry me or lose your life." He told me, smirking. I froze.
"Wha-at?" I stammered.
"You put us in this mess. The only way out is to marry me. I'll pay you off after six months." I fell silent. "Deal?" I nodded, "Yes, I'll marry you."


To Amelia Ross, one drunk night with the billionaire CEO, Hunter, was more than enough to shatter her life. To Hunter Chase , the only person who could help him fix his negative reputation was the woman he hated the most. What happens next when he forces her to marry him in order to save his business? Will they draw the line between love and hatred?

Chapter 1

Ring! Ring!! Ring!!!

The loud blaring of the phone startled Amelia, making her roll over on the bed.

"Oh Shit!" She muttered. Who the hell was calling her?

She didn't care. All she wanted was some sleep, at least. She felt like such a mess, and didn't want to answer any damn phone call.

Her head throbbed so badly that she thought it would fall off her neck. She pressed her face into the soft pillow, forcing herself to return to sleep again.

Immediately, the phone rang out again, pissing her off.

Without raising her face, she stretched out her hand, with her eyes closed, and dropped it on the bed. The ringing of the phone seemed to grow louder, making her more irritated.

She started to grope around on the bed for her phone, which she usually had beside her every night. It didn't take her long before she realized that her hand was not touching the bed, rather it tugged at a muscled arm.

"Wait, what?" A thought came to her mind as she froze.

She was touching an arm, and that was, infact, not her ringing tone.

"What the h*ll, Damon?" A deep husky voice bellowed beside her.

Amelia's eyes tore open, and she swung around in the direction of the voice. It wasn't her imagination or one of her wild dreams. There was actually a man next to her.

He was handsome with thick black, ruffled hair, and was propped up on one elbow. One of his hands clutched a phone to his ear.

His lips were drawn back in a snarl as their eyes met.

"Whhhaaattt?!" Amelia yelled at the top of her voice.

The man beside her shot a quick frown at her before looking away.

"What did you just say, Damon?" He growled into the phone.

Damon's voice was loud as he spoke from the other end of the phone, but the yell of the strange woman beside him drowned whatever he was trying to say.

"No! This cannot be true!" The lady mumbled, holding the covers against her chest.

Hunter cocked his head to the side to look at her again. Her face was pale and drained of color as though she had seen a ghost.

He decided to ignore her, and focus on what Damon had just said.

"Trending on the internet? What does that mean? Hold on, where are you?" Hunter asked, eying the woman.

She raised the bedsheets and glanced underneath. She had no clothing on.

She was stark naked.

Again, she let out another loud yell, pulling the bedsheets over to her side of the bed.

Hunter laid bare on the bed now that the covers were pulled away.

His eyes fell on his naked figure, and he sprang out of bed, still clutching the phone to his ear.

"Where are you, Damon?" He grunted, cursing under his breath as he hoped the crazy woman on the bed would stop shouting.

There was raw panic in Damon's voice as he ran nonstop. It only added to Hunter's irritation.

"Can you speak more slowly? I don't understand what you're saying." He snapped.

"Where I am doesn't matter right now. Listen, Hunter, You are all over the f*cking internet, Man!" Damon replied.

Hunter ended the call immediately, and leaned his back against the wall.

His heart raced.

"What did you do to me?" The woman in the room asked, as she broke into tears, sobbing.

Hunter stood butt naked, paying no attention to her as he browsed through his phone, holding his breath.

If this turned out to be one of Damon's numerous lame jokes, he was more than ready to tear him apart. Hunter's eyes almost popped out of their sockets when he saw that there was a hashtag of his name online.

He was number one!

He let out a harsh sigh, clicking on the video that was attached to the hashtag.

His eyes widened in disbelief and horror. It was an obscene video of a man who looked exactly like him and the woman who was in the room with him. He squinted at the screen.

In the video, he was seated at the edge of the bed in this room, while the strange woman straddled him. His arms were wrapped around her bare back, and he kissed her hungrily.

He swiped past the video.

There was another, maybe hundreds more of them. In one, he had his cock shoved in the mouth of this same woman, and she bobbed her head over it, slurping. Her bare breasts bounced as she moved before him.

Although her breasts and his cock were slightly blurred, their faces were clearly captured in the video, and there was no way they could ever be mistaken for another.

He blinked multiple times.

Then, he swiped away and checked Google. He was trending as the most searched for the week, and several blogs had articles about him with the hashtag, #HunterSexTape.

There were multiple pictures all over the internet of him in intimate sexual positions with her; the woman in the room. Their faces were so clear in the pictures that there was no way he could deny it wasn't him. The man in the videos had the exact arm tattoos as he did.

A sharp knot tightened at the pit of Hunter's stomach.

What was going on? How did that ever happen? He shut his eyes and kneaded a finger against his forehead.

"F*ck, no!" he mumbled.

He walked over to the table by the window, placed his phone on it, and picked up his underwear which was laid at the foot of the bed. Then, he strode into the bathroom, completely ignoring the woman who was still crying.

His thoughts were muddled, but first, he had to wipe off the dried semen that was stuck on his dick before anything else.

Waking up, naked, next to a woman he didn't know was the least of all his problems. What bothered him was that nude clips of him and this same woman were scattered all over the internet, and he had no damn idea how that woman even got into his bed.

A sharp bolt of pain jabbed at the back of his head as he put on his underwear.

Amelia let out the breath that she didn't know she was holding as soon as the strange man closed the door of whichever room he had just walked into.

She felt stupid, waking up naked next to a man she didn't know, only to get ignored by him.

He didn't even spare her more than an irritated glance. He spoke on call and left the room, as though she wasn't there, crying.

Amelia knew that something had happened. The sticky feeling and soreness between her legs were clear evidence.

He was naked too.

DID SHE HAVE SEX WITH HIM?!

Hurriedly, she sprang out of bed, holding the covers firmly wrapped around her chest.

Her phone? Where was it?

She found it lying on the floor, and sprinted over to pick it up. She realized that it was turned off.

So, she let out a long hiss as she pressed down the power button, waiting for it to come on.

As she waited, she scanned the messy room, getting more convinced that something had happened right there in that room.

Her bra was lying by the door, her panties were by the head of the bed, and her clothes...oh, hell no! She gasped, shocked.

"I'll ask you just one more time. All I need is for you to give me a direct answer. How did you get into my room, and who sent you?" A deep voice said in a low voice behind her, causing her to jump.

She spun around to meet the strange man. He had his arms across his chest, and his eyes fell on the bulge in his underwear.

How did he come into the room so quietly that she didn't hear him?

"Uh?" She said, staring at him blankly.

"You heard me. Don't you dare play deaf." He snarled, "Who hired you to do this?"

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