A fake marriage to my ex boyfriend’s older brother wasn’t what I had in mind all those years when I planned my wedding as a little girl. And yet, here I am… holding Logan’s hand and saying my vows. How did I get here? Two words – Lottery ticket. A literal lottery ticket, which let me buy the biggest stake in Logan’s father’s company. But Logan, himself, was way more alluring than Barlow Technologies. We had it all planned in our heads. Get married, secure his position, fulfill my dream of owning a wedding venue. Now… I really am a Barlow. A fake Barlow. But the baby in my belly would be born into the family – another thing that we hadn’t included in our little plan. Is it too soon to assume that this shock might just put an end to our ruse?