The Billionaire's Disposable Husband

For five years, I was the perfect husband to a woman who didn't love me. It was a contract. I was hired to help the broken heiress, Jorja Romero, heal after her fiancé left her. In return, her family funded my art, but the price was my dream-a scholarship to study painting in Paris.

With only two months left on our contract, the man she never got over came back. Overnight, the fragile peace we'd built vanished, and I became invisible.

At dinner, a sizzling platter of fajitas fell towards her. I threw my arm out to block it, the scalding metal searing my skin.