Sugar, Secrets and Upheaval

I took a fake husband gig to ruin a billionaire’s life. Now we own a villa, have matching suits, and apparently a chopper. Oops. I should’ve known things were off when the guy who hired me said instead of Now I’m married to Levi Blake—a national treasure, pharmaceutical CEO, human refrigerator, and the man who just walked into parliament and abolished the monarchy the nobility in a single speech. My only job? Wreck his reputation, so his family disowns him. Instead, I live in a sterile designer house with floor-to-ceiling windows and a locked door I’m not allowed to open. My new husband doesn’t touch me unless I beg. Also, he talks like a ghost from Victorian England and may or may not be running a morally ambiguous science cult. Which is fine. Totally fine. This is what people mean by right?