Page 1 of Enticing My Off Limits Billionaire

Chapter one

Madison

Likesomanygoodlove stories, mine starts at a wedding. Unlike many good love stories, this wedding happens to feature my father and my best friend as the leading players.

The ceremony is beautiful, an outdoor wedding held at my dad's rural retreat upstate. They go with a blush and champagne color palette, complementing the late spring flowers and the sparkling lake behind them. They hold the ceremony at sunset, the sky painted pink and purple and orange, and the guests and I line up to support them and wish them well.

I stand at my best friend's elbow and hold her bouquet while she says her vows to my father...and then she becomes my stepmom.

Yeah.

It's pretty weird.

But that's been my life for two years.

The wedding party takes our photos, then we gather on the balcony of my dad's house for a toast. The sun goes down, and fireflies start to come out... I smile and clink my glass against Kylie's, my best friend grinning from ear to ear as her new husband kisses her on the forehead. She pulls me aside and gives me a big hug, and I lean into the love of my lifelong best friend.

"Thank you so much for doing everything you have," she says quietly, squeezing my hand. "I know it hasn't been easy."

"What are you talking about?" I ask, plastering a smile on my face. "I'm getting a great deal—you found the love of your life, my dad won't be lonely anymore...I'm happy for you two."

"Are you sure?"

I nod, wishing I could tell her no; of course, I'm not okay. I'm spiraling, and this is just so weird...

...but I don't.

"All I care about is your happiness," I tell her. "Now go have fun. I love you, Ky."

She gives me one more big hug, and then she goes to join her husband, who flashes me a grateful smile. I keep myself from reacting, listening to the conversation of the girls around me, to the rest of the wedding party.

I'm fine.

I'm totally, completely fine.

Because I always have been and always will be.

We do a big wedding processional down from the balcony into the tent where we'll have the reception, some of New York City's most prominent businesspeople and theatre professionals mingling over fine wine and expensive, homemade whiskey. My dad has tapped a cask of something he distilled especially for tonight, and the booze is flowing.

I take a shot before I sit down at the head table next to Kylie, with Sophia—a friend from the White Oak Society, my dad's exclusive whiskey club—on my other side.

"You good?" she asks, the redhead meeting my eyes.

"I'm fine," I mutter. "And I wish people would stop asking me that. Today's not about me."

Glasses chime. My dad stands up.

"I would like to thank you all for coming tonight," he says. "Kylie and I have had a somewhat unconventional path to get here...but you're here tonight because you were the people who supported us every step of the way."

As my dad speaks, I glance down at my plate, pretending to be interested in the food. It's delicious, of course—cooked by a five-star chef, one of the most popular caterers in New York. I take a bite of my steak, and it takes some effort to swallow it down.

All I can think about is how surreal this all is. My best friend is now my stepmom, and I'm supposed to act like everything is normal.

But it's not.

I take another shot of my dad's whiskey, hoping it will numb the weirdness of the situation.

It doesn't.

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