My Child and I Married a Billionaire

Ryan had soaked Damien Vaughn’s shirt through with his tears, barely able to contain his excitement.

Damien had no choice but to grab him by the chin and push his face up.

"Are you really that sure I’m the President Vaughn you know?"

That did it. Ryan burst into tears all over again.

"President Vaughn. I know I dropped the ball and made you angry. But you can’t say things like that! You can’t cut me loose — you can’t fire me! I’ve been with you since the day I graduated. All these years, yeah, sometimes your temper was awful and working for you left zero room for a personal life, but you’ve become a part of my life. These past weeks without you have been unbearable. I swear I’ll never complain again — I’ll pour every waking hour into work, no questions asked. Please don’t say stuff like that just to scare me, okay?"

Damien Vaughn: "..."

Was that supposed to be an insult or a compliment?

"Alright, alright — what kind of grown man blubbars like this? Pull yourself together."

Damien patted him on the shoulder and turned to Cecelia Archer.

"Do you have any photos from before? I want to take a look."

"Of course. Come with me."

Ryan drove while Damien Vaughn and Cecelia Archer got in the back seat.

Even though she kept insisting he was her husband, Damien felt like they were still strangers to him, and he was too awkward to sit close to her, so he stayed rigid against the car door.

Cecelia, however, slid right over to his side and took his hand, turning it over and examining it carefully.

Same hands as always — long fingers, smooth skin, no calluses. So he hadn’t suffered too much out there. Good. That was a relief.

Back when Damien used to grab her hand or hold it, Cecelia always felt like he was up to something and wanted to pull away. So why did holding his hand feel so natural today?

Damien sat there passively as Cecelia turned his hand over and over, inspecting it from every angle. Then she simply claimed it, set it on her lap, laced their fingers together, and rested her head against his shoulder with a contented sigh. He was going to lose his mind.

She was so young, so pretty — soft and sweet-smelling and practically throwing herself at him...

They reached the hotel quickly.

Cecelia told Ryan to keep quiet and not say anything to anyone yet, then pulled Damien along to her room.

Damien assumed she was a woman of her word and was about to pull out those photos — but the moment the door clicked shut, Cecelia came at him and grabbed his shirt.

Hey, hey, hey!

Hadn’t she already given him a once-over back at the shop? What was there left to check?

He instinctively moved to block her, and Cecelia smacked the back of his hand.

"What are you doing? What are you covering up? Who exactly are you saving that for?"

Damien Vaughn: "...Didn’t you already look earlier?"

Cecelia pouted. "I hate these clothes on you. Did she buy them for you? They’re hideous. Take them off. Throw them out."

And with that, she yanked his shirt off in a few quick moves and went for his pants.

Damien still squirmed. "I have to go back later — how am I supposed to leave if you do this?"

"You’re the president of the Vaughn Group. You’re really going to tell me you don’t have clothes to wear? I told you to strip, so strip!"

In the blink of an eye, he was down to just his underwear.

Damien Vaughn’s ears flushed red when he noticed Cecelia still staring at him.

"You’re not throwing these out too, are you?"

"That disgusting style — anyone could tell you didn’t pick these yourself. I absolutely refuse to let you keep them. Off."

"But — hold on, hold on. Even if we are married, in my head we’ve barely just met. Isn’t this a little too..."

Cecelia didn’t care. Two seconds later, she’d taken care of it.

Damien Vaughn had nowhere to hide, utterly mortified.

There were certain reactions he simply couldn’t control.

He was terrified Cecelia would call him a pervert.

"I didn’t start this — you did. You can’t blame me for this."

Cecelia didn’t blame him at all. Instead, she fixed him with a burning, intent gaze.

"There’s really nothing going on between you and her?"

"You mean Sherry? How old is she? She’s just a kid to me."

"You see her as a kid — but does she see you the same way?"

"She is a kid. She doesn’t know anything. What else would she see me as besides a big brother?"

Cecelia felt a warm wave of relief wash over her. She stepped forward and closed her hand around what was exclusively hers.

"Come with me."

Damien Vaughn’s vision went black and he nearly passed out.

This woman... she had to be some kind of demon.

Cecelia pulled him into the bathroom, shoved him under the shower head, and stood there with that same blazing gaze locked on him as she reached up and untied the halter strings of her dress.

Damien’s mind went blank, every drop of blood in his body rushing straight to his head.

He looked away. "What do you think you’re doing?"

"Exercising my rights as Mrs. Vaughn. Wasn’t this always your favorite? I’m going to make you remember me. Damien Vaughn, I don’t believe for one second that you’ve truly forgotten me completely."

The world spun around him as Cecelia murmured his name over and over again.

Listening to her soft, breathless voice, breathing in that intoxicating sweetness, Damien Vaughn felt as though something in him was beginning to recognize her all over again.

Ryan was too wound up to sleep. He wanted to go knock on the door multiple times — to sit down with President Vaughn and really talk, to ask what on earth had happened over the past two-plus months, to ask whether they wanted dinner — but he didn’t dare.

President Vaughn and President Archer hadn’t seen each other in so long. The sparks were definitely flying in there. He just hoped they had enough... little umbrellas in that room...

He lay in his room alone, his mind running in circles, and it wasn’t until past one in the morning that he finally felt the faint pull of sleep.

He’d just closed his eyes and was about to drift off when his phone rang. It was Cecelia Archer calling.

"Bring over two sets of clothes. Do you have any brand-new underwear? Grab two pairs of those too."

The moment Ryan heard that, he launched himself out of bed like a fish leaping from the water.

He knew it — President Vaughn and President Archer had definitely set off fireworks, and now they’d made up! Yes!

He grabbed the clothes and hurried over to knock on the door. Cecelia was the one who answered.

She was wrapped in a bathrobe, but her damp hair, flushed cheeks, and husky voice told the whole story without a single word.

Ryan fought hard to keep the grin off his face.

"President Archer, where’s President Vaughn?"

Cecelia Archer: "We’re heading out in a bit. Give me the car keys."

"It’s so late — where are you two going?"

"He made a friend while he was here — someone who saved his life. The least we can do is go say goodbye properly before we leave. Do you have any cash on you?"

Ryan quickly said yes. "But not a lot. How much do you need?"

"They saved his life, so we need to repay them properly. A large amount would be hard to arrange tonight though, so you can take care of that tomorrow. For now, just give me a few tens of thousands — enough to show some goodwill."

"I only have twenty thousand on me. But if I pool it with what the others have, it should be enough..."

"No need. Twenty thousand is plenty."

"Got it, President Archer. I’ll go get it for you right now."

Ryan turned to go, but Cecelia called after him.

"Do you have any food?"

"Is President Vaughn hungry?"

Ryan understood completely. After several hours of that, President Vaughn had to be exhausted.

"I do, but it’s gone cold. I’ll have someone make something fresh for you both."

"Don’t bother. Just grab whatever’s there. Go on."

Ryan handed Cecelia the clothes and jogged back to his room.

He grabbed the money and the food and jogged back just as happily.

The door was locked.

He called out Cecelia’s name twice. Several seconds passed before Cecelia answered, her voice trembling, telling him to go back for the night.

"Something’s come up. You don’t need to come by anymore tonight..."