Runaway Heiress, Mystery Husband

I heard it all on a recorded phone call — my boyfriend telling his friend I was just "fun, not serious," while his first love was the one he truly wanted. That night, I sat alone in a bar, drowning in cheap cocktails and three years of wasted devotion. A stranger sat next to me — quiet, well-dressed, nothing like the other men who tried to buy me drinks. I was drunk. Broken. Done caring. "Hey," I leaned in and asked, "you single?" He nodded. "Wanna get married?" For a second, he just looked at me. Then came the softest "Okay" I've ever heard. The next morning, I woke up with a hangover, a wedding ring, and no memory of my husband's face. But here's the thing about hitting rock bottom — the only way left is up. And apparently, my brand-new husband plans to take me all the way to the top. Even if I have no idea who he is.