Slept With An "Ex-convict Nobody" - A Hidden Trillionaire!

Chapter 8: Married to an “ex-convict nobody”

Ethan took the marriage certificate from Emma’s hand with a curious brow, flipping it open and reading the content. For a second, his brows creased in confusion. Then, they shot up in disbelief.

“What the hell…” he muttered under his breath.

His eyes traced the names again: Emma Jane Robbins and Ethan Northstrum. The location—Harmony Creek Registry. The time—11:06 PM, just hours ago.

He looked up, stunned. “I swear, I didn’t see this in the envelope earlier,” he said. “I had no idea.”

Emma stared at him, arms folded, face hard to read. But inside, her mind was spinning out of control.

Married?

To this man?

How?

Why?

Tracy snatched the certificate from Ethan’s hand and gawked at it with Stella.

“This is real,” Tracy said, eyes wide. “Emma, you actually married him.”

“An ex-convict,” Stella added with disdain. “You married an ex-convict.”

Jennifer stood to the side, disgust smeared across her face. “It’s a setup,” she declared. “He planned this. Took advantage of your drunken state, faked a marriage to trap you into his pathetic little fantasy of becoming someone.”

“That’s not true,” Ethan said firmly. “I didn’t even know this happened. I was just as out of it as she was.”

Stella scoffed. “So what—Emma just walked into a marriage by herself?”

That’s when Ethan’s memories began to stir. He closed his eyes for a moment, tracing the sequence. After the fight with Cobra… carrying Emma into his private lounge… the drinks…

His eyes flew open.

Mela.

She was the one who brought the drinks.

She was the only one who hovered around.

Was it possible…?

Before he could speak, Tracy stepped forward, holding her phone. “You know what? Doesn’t matter how it happened. We’ll fix it.”

Emma looked up at her. “How?”

“Easy,” Tracy said, already dialing. “I’m calling Anthony Custin. He owes me.”

She turned around as the call connected, placing it on speaker.

“Tony!” she said cheerily. “Darling, I need a favor. Quick one.”

Anthony chuckled. “Always ready for you, Tracy. What’s up?”

“A friend of mine mistakenly married some guy last night. It was in a little registry somewhere outside the city. Can you annul it for us?”

There was a pause.

“Was it in Harmony Creek?” Anthony asked.

“Yes, exactly!”

Another pause, longer this time.

“I’m sorry, Tracy. That registry has strict procedures. No annulment can be made until after 30 days—and even then, only with strong legal grounds.”

Tracy’s face dropped. “What? Can’t you just override them from the city?”

“No can do,” Anthony replied. “They’ve got independent status. Only advice? Tell them not to consummate the marriage. That way, they’ll have grounds to invalidate it when the time comes.”

Everyone groaned as the call ended.

Stella turned to Emma, her face pale with shock. “You’re stuck. For a whole month. Married to… him.”

Jennifer scoffed. “Exactly what he wanted.”

She turned to Emma with a sneer. “Pay him off. Make him disappear till the 30 days pass. Then bury this whole mess.”

Emma sat down slowly, her body drained of strength. Her childhood friends had now turned cold. Everything she had built, everything she’d worked to maintain—her image, her circle, her dignity—felt like it was crashing down.

Tracy didn’t hold back. “I’m honestly ashamed of you, Emma. This is embarrassing. You’ve just thrown away your status.”

She picked up her handbag with disgust. “I can’t be seen around you until this mistake is erased.”

She looked at Stella. “Let’s go.”

Stella hesitated for a beat, then followed her friend to the door. But not without a final jab.

“Maybe your husband can help with that $50 million hole in your company… or win you the Enzogrande contract back.” She smirked, waved, and left.

The door closed with a heavy silence.

Jennifer stood fuming. “I should’ve left with them,” she muttered. “But I actually need this job.”

Then, glaring at Ethan: “Just know this—you ruined her life. And I’m going to make sure you pay for it.”

Emma was lost in thought, rubbing her forehead with trembling fingers. Her friends. Gone. Her status. Tarnished. Her company. Barely afloat.

Ethan stepped closer, voice low but sincere. “Emma… I’m sorry. For everything.”

She looked up.

“I think someone drugged us,” he continued. “Probably Mela, the waitress from the club. It wasn’t planned—not by me, at least.”

Jennifer rolled her eyes. “Right. And of all people to get drugged with, it had to be our boss. Why couldn’t they match her with someone who actually has a future? Or a suit? Or a bank account?”

“That’s enough, Jennifer,” Emma said suddenly. “Leave us.”

Jennifer gawked at her. “What?”

“Leave us,” Emma repeated firmly. “Now.”

Jennifer huffed, shooting one last glare at Ethan before storming out. “I’m watching you,” she spat before slamming the door.

With the room finally quiet, Emma poured herself and Ethan a glass of champagne and sat.

Ethan noticed something. “You… still don’t remember what happened before the hotel, do you?”

Emma shook her head. “Only waking up next to you.”

Good, he thought. Then he said nothing.

Instead, she leaned back and asked, “So… what now?”

Ethan gave a half-smile. “Honestly, I’m still wondering how your so-called best friends walked away so fast. Seems their love was conditional.”

Emma sighed. “It was still hard to see. I wouldn’t have walked away from either of them.”

He nodded slowly. “Can you trust me?”

She looked into his eyes, trying to read them.

“You’re still a stranger, Ethan.”

“I get that,” he replied. “But give me a month. I’ll make sure you never regret meeting me.”

Emma narrowed her eyes. “That’s a big promise.”

He raised his glass. “I’m your husband now, right? I’ll protect you. Defend your interests. Support your goals. And I’ll slap anyone who mocks you.”

Emma chuckled—just a little. Something in his voice felt like a warm fire in a winter storm.

Maybe… just maybe… she could give him time.

Before she could say anything else, her phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID and sighed. “It’s my mom. Grandpa’s called a family meeting.”

She answered.

Mom’s voice was calm but serious. “Emma, your grandfather is ill. He wants to meet the whole family. It’s about the Enzogrande deal.”

Emma swallowed hard. “Alright. I’ll be there.”

After hanging up, she turned to Ethan. “Can you drive?”

“Of course.”

“Good. You’re coming with me,” she said.

Ethan raised a brow.

“To the family meeting,” she continued. “But first—we’re going shopping. You need a change of clothes.”

They stepped out of the building together.

Just before they reached the car, Ethan’s phone rang. He checked the screen.

Matthew Witkov.

He answered. “Matthew?”

The elderly man’s voice was warm but apologetic. “Forgive me, Ethan. I know you asked for peace. But I wouldn’t disturb you if it wasn’t important.”

Ethan paused. “What is it?”

“It’s Enzogrande Corporation.”

Ethan’s tone shifted slightly. “What happened?”

“No issues,” Matthew assured. “But since you haven’t taken over the full Witkov empire yet, I figured… why not give you Enzogrande for a start?”

Ethan blinked.

Matthew continued, “You built that company from the shadows. It’s time you owned it officially.”

“I’m not ready to run any company,” Ethan replied.

“You won’t have to,” Matthew said. “Just sign. They’ll operate as usual. You want changes, you call the acting CEO.”

Ethan hesitated, thinking of Emma, of the pain in her eyes, of the way her friends abandoned her.

Then he smiled. “Alright. I accept.”

Matthew sounded thrilled. “Wonderful. I’m about to announce the company has just hit a $1 trillion net worth. Shall I include your name?”

“No,” Ethan said. “Keep my identity hidden. Just make the announcement.”

“As you wish.”

The call ended.

Ethan slipped his phone into his pocket, eyes hard with purpose.

“Emma Robbins,” he whispered under his breath, “I’ll keep my promise. And I’ll make every single one of them regret mocking you.”