Sienna's POV
I had Sixteen messages, four missed calls, and a link from my younger sister, Jessica, with about five question marks after it.
I tapped the link and a video opened. A clean, high-quality clip of me and Eric standing under the neon-lit wedding arch in the casino's exhibit area.
We looked normal as we exchanged vows. I looked serene, gazing up at him like I knew exactly what I was doing. And Eric looked steady and sure. We didn't look like two drunk idiots playing pretend.
I looked up at Eric and said, "We're screwed. "Completely, and utterly fucked."
My heart was pounding and then, I read the caption below the video:
"British Billionaire Heir Marries Mystery Woman in Miami." That one sentence was bold enough to punch my soul straight out of my body.
I blinked at first, then blinked again.
British… what?
Billionaire… Who?
"What—?" I choked out, staring at the screen like it might suddenly correct itself.
Jessica's texts started popping up one after the other:
Jess: SIS WHAT IS THIS???
Jess: You MARRIED a billionaire??
Jess: Who is he?? What's going on?? Answer meeeee!!
Jess: Mom is gonna hyperventilate.
Jess: ARE YOU OKAY??
Jess: HELLO???
I suddenly felt dizzy. I didn't even know which message to respond to first. There were a lot of tags on my Instagram too.
The wedding I thought was fake is actually real, and now the whole freaking world knows about it. My face was almost on every blog — mystery woman, unknown bride, Miami wife. And my legally married husband, Eric Macmillan is apparently heir to a Billionaire fortune.
I turned to Eric slowly
"You're a billionaire," I blurted, as I practically shoved my phone in his face. "You're a billionaire heir. Why didn't you tell me?!"
He froze, eyes widening slightly as he saw the video.
"Sienna, I—"
"No, don't 'Sienna' me! Why is the internet calling you a billionaire heir?!"
He raised his palms gently, like he was approaching a startled animal.
"Let's breathe for a moment. We were about to go get breakfast. Why don't we eat first and I promise I'll explain anything you want to know."
"I don't need breakfast," I shot back, but my stomach growled traitorously. "I need answers."
His lips twitched. "You need both. Preferably in reverse order."
I glared at him.
"Fine," I muttered stiffly. "Breakfast then answers."
He nodded. "Good. Come on."
I followed beside him, gripping my phone tightly.
*****
I ordered pancakes and a black coffee, Eric ordered the same thing.
"So," I finally said once the waitress walked off, "explain."
He exhaled softly and leaned back. "My grandfather started a multinational company in London then handed it over to my father who expanded it. I'm his only child, that means I get to inherit it."
"And you never thought to mention any of that?" I asked, folding my arms.
He winced. "It didn't exactly come up between tequila shots and fake vows."
He had a point, but I wasn't about to say that out loud.
"That's why someone filmed us, they probably recognized you." I said.
"Yeah, probably," he said, shrugging. "The family name gets attention, especially in Europe."
"Well, no wonder Jess is freaking out." I paused. "But how come I've never heard about your family?"
Before he could respond, another waitress came with our orders. Her eyes widened the moment she saw Eric. Her entire face lit up like a Christmas tree.
"Oh my God," she breathed. "You're—are you—? You're Eric Macmillan, right?"
Eric offered a polite, practiced smile. "I am."
She gasped, actually gasped, and put a hand over her chest. "I've read about you! My roommate studies international trade and your family is literally—" She squealed. "Wow. Sorry. Sorry! I'm just… wow."
"It's alright," he said kindly. "Thank you."
She practically drifted away on a cloud of fangirl energy.
I blinked at him. "Seems like you're comfortable being recognized by strangers."
"Sometimes," he said. "Depends on the country."
"Oh, great," I muttered. "So I didn't just marry a billionaire. I married a celebrity billionaire."
He chuckled under his breath.
I observed that in this whole internet explosion, not once did he take out his phone. Not even to check his social media.
"So," I said, narrowing my eyes, "you haven't looked at your phone at all. Are you just going to pretend this isn't happening?"
He shook his head. "I wanted to take a break. From everything, including social media. That's why I came to Miami."
"And instead you got a wife," I said dryly.
"Not the break I planned," he admitted, "but… memorable."
I groaned and pushed my plate away. "We need an attorney fast. We have to annul this before it gets messier."
He nodded calmly. "I agree. Once we're done eating, we'll go find one."
I opened my mouth to continue planning our damage control, but my phone ringing interrupted me. The caller ID showed "MOM."
I stared at the screen like it was about to explode. My mom calling me now is already a sign that things are about to get even crazier.
"I should probably take this," I said weakly.
Eric gave me a nod.
I swiped to answer. "Hello."
"Sienna Marie Jones!"
There goes the full name.
"Mom—"
"What is this I am seeing on the internet?" she demanded. "Why is there a video of you getting married in a casino?! Without telling anyone?! And who is that man? Why are blogs calling him a billionaire?!"
I winced and held the phone slightly away from my ear. I could practically feel her frustration vibrating through the speaker.
"Mom, I can explain, I just—"
"Good. You better start explaining now because your father is pacing the living room, ranting about flying to Miami today to drag both of you back to New York by the ears!"
I squeezed my eyes shut.
Fantastic.
Exactly what I needed. Dad going on full dramatic–dad mode.
Then I heard Jess yelling in the background.
"I told you she probably didn't mean to get married! Mom, let me talk to her! Sienna, are you alive?! Can he hear us? Put it on speaker!"
Oh God.
"Mom, please calm down," I begged. "I promise, I'm fine. Eric is—"
"I don't care if he is the Queen of England's nephew," she snapped. "You are coming back to New York with him today. Do you understand me?"
"Mom, it's… complicated."
"Oh, it's about to get a lot more complicated," she said. "Get on the next flight or your father will be on his way to Miami in an hour."
She hung up.
I let my hand drop to the table, phone still in my grip.
Eric raised an eyebrow. "So… bad news?"
I inhaled shakily. "My mother just full-named me. My father wants to fly to Miami and drag us back. They want us in New York today."
Eric blinked.
"Well," he said after a moment, "that's… a very strong reaction."
"Strong?" I whispered. "Eric, things
have officially gone from bad to worse."
I dropped my head into my hands.
"Why did I ever think being drunk and getting married was a good idea?" I mumbled into my palms.