
Absolute Dominance: The Billionaire's Vengeance
For three years, I hid my identity as the sole heiress of a multi-billion dollar tech empire to live in a cramped apartment and support my boyfriend, Ben.
But the day before our engagement, I stood outside a meeting room and overheard him talking to his wealthy boss, Haylie.
"She's just a stepping stone," Ben laughed, his voice full of contempt. "A poor, ambitionless distraction while I work my way up to where I really belong."
He mocked the cheap silver ring he gave me, calling it a necessary prop to keep a naive fool happy.
He bragged about the multi-million dollar merger proposal he was presenting, planning to use it to secure his promotion and build a future with her.
He had no idea that I had secretly negotiated that entire deal using my real connections just to give him his big break.
I had sacrificed my family's comfort, my true identity, and my own career just to watch him rise.
I poured my heart and soul into our humble beginnings, only to realize he saw my love as a pathetic joke and me as disposable trash.
I calmly picked up a pen and voided the merger agreement, tearing my hard work into tiny pieces.
I went home, slid the cheap ring off my finger, and dropped it into his mug of cold coffee.
"Soon, you'll find out exactly who is nothing."
Walking out the door, I pulled out my phone and texted my billionaire father.
"I'm in. Announce the merger."
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Chapter 1
For three years, I'd played a role. I was Isolde Park, heiress to a tech empire, but I hid that to build a life with Ben – to prove my worth, to lift him up, to be the woman he loved. The day before we were supposed to get engaged, I overheard the truth. To him, I was just a convenient, ambitionless placeholder. A distraction. His real goal was his boss, Haylie White, and the fortune she represented. The betrayal hit like a fist. It undid every sacrifice, every lie I'd told myself. The quiet life I wanted, the love I thought we had – it didn't just crack. It shattered. This was no longer about proving myself to the world; it was about reclaiming everything they tried to take from me.
I sat in the cold, sterile meeting room, the sound of Ben's voice a dull thrum through the thin walls. My pen hovered over the multi-million dollar merger agreement, a deal I had secretly negotiated over months, using my real identity and connections, then repackaged for Ben to present as his own. It was supposed to be his big break, the promotion he desperately wanted, a testament to his ambition. My promise ring, a simple silver band he'd given me to mark our "humble beginnings," felt heavy on my finger. I had sacrificed so much for him. My identity. My family's comfort. My own career aspirations at Park Industries. I did it all to stand by his side, to watch him rise, to build something together from the ground up, just like he always said he wanted. I believed him. I believed in us.
The muffled voices from the adjacent executive office, Haylie White's office, pierced through the quiet of the meeting room. Her voice was sharp, unmistakable. Ben's was softer, a deferential murmur. Curiosity, a serpent in my stomach, compelled me closer to the wall. I pressed my ear against it, the cheap construction doing little to block the sound. What I heard next froze me. Every word landed like a physical blow.
"Ben, you truly outdid yourself with this merger proposal," Haylie drawled, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. "I knew you had potential, but this... this is a game-changer."
My chest tightened. That was my work. My deal. I just needed to hear Ben's modest acceptance, his acknowledgment of my 'help'. But his response was not what I expected.
"It was nothing, Haylie," Ben said, his voice husky, laced with a smug confidence I had never heard directed at me. "Just doing what I need to do to climb the ladder."
A cold dread seeped into my bones. What was he talking about?
"And Isolde?" Haylie asked, her tone suddenly sharper. "She must be thrilled for you. The little analyst, isn't she?" The way she said "little analyst" made my skin crawl. It was dismissive, an insult veiled as a compliment.
Ben chuckled, a low, dismissive sound. It twisted my insides. "Isolde? Oh, she's... fine. A sweet girl, really. Simple tastes. Perfectly content with our humble apartment and her junior analyst role. She doesn't understand the real game, the stakes involved." He paused, and I heard a rustle, a soft thud. "She's a good distraction, keeps me grounded, I guess. But she's just a stepping stone, Haylie. You know that. Someone to look good with while I work my way up to where I really belong."
The words hit me like a tidal wave. Stepping stone. Distraction. Doesn't understand the real game. My blood ran cold. My vision blurred. I pressed harder against the wall, desperate to hear more, desperate to deny what my ears were telling me.
Haylie laughed, a knowing, predatory sound. "A stepping stone, indeed. And what about your engagement? She's flashing that little silver band around like it's a diamond cartel."
Ben scoffed. "A necessary prop. A facade. She thinks it's real. She thinks we're building a future. She even helped me 'secure' this deal, thinking she was contributing. Bless her naive heart." He let out a cold, contemptuous laugh. "A cheap silver ring like that is all a naive fool like her deserves. But it's not her future I'm interested in, is it, Haylie?"
Then, a sickening wet sound, a muffled groan. A gasp, then Haylie's purr. "No, darling. It's not."
My knees buckled. I gripped the meeting room table, my knuckles white. The pen clattered to the floor. Tears stung my eyes, but they refused to fall. This wasn't just betrayal; it was a complete demolition of my identity, my sacrifices, my very existence in his world. He had seen me, Isolde Park, heiress to a multi-billion dollar tech empire, as a poor, ambitionless fool. He saw me as a pawn. A stepping stone. My carefully constructed facade of normalcy, my earnest efforts to prove my own worth outside my family's shadow – it all made me a target for his contempt. This man, the man I was about to marry, the man I poured my heart and soul into, saw me as less than nothing.
A searing rage, cold and sharp, ignited within me. It burned away the tears, leaving behind a hollow space where my love for him used to be. My hand trembled as I picked up the pen again. The merger agreement lay open. This deal, this cornerstone of Ben's grand plan, was his. I had made it happen. But it wasn't his to keep. My gaze hardened.
With precise, deliberate strokes, I scrawled across the contract's most vital clauses. This was the only executed copy—the one Ben was supposed to present to the board in an hour. Without a signed agreement, the deal would collapse before it ever reached the lawyers. The ink bled, blurring the important details into an incomprehensible mess. Then, I tore the document into tiny pieces, the sound a ragged echo of my shattered heart. Each rip felt like I was tearing away a piece of my past, a piece of the naive girl who had believed in him.
My phone felt like a block of ice in my hand. I unlocked it, my fingers flying across the screen. My father's contact – William Park's name – stared back at me. I typed a short, decisive message, each word a hammer blow against my past.
"I'm in. Announce the merger."
The message delivered, I felt a shift, a cold steel settling in my spine. The old Isolde, the one who sought normalcy and quiet validation, was gone. A new one, forged in betrayal and tempered by resolve, had emerged.
The shared apartment was quiet when I got home. The muted glow of the television flickered from the living room. Ben sat on the sofa, a half-eaten pizza box on the coffee table, oblivious. He looked up, a soft smile spreading across his face.
"Hey, babe. You're late. Long day at the office?" His voice was familiar, too familiar, the same tone he used for countless evenings, the same gentle cadence that once lulled me into a false sense of security. Now, it was a grotesque mockery.
I forced a smile, a brittle mask I hoped he couldn't see through. "Something like that." My voice was flat, even to my own ears. I walked past him, my gaze sweeping over the apartment, the small, cramped space we shared, the symbols of our 'struggle' he so openly despised.
Ben rose, stretching. "Rough day for me too. That Haylie White is a tyrant. Always keeping me late." He chuckled, a disarming sound. He moved towards me, his hand reaching for my back, a practiced gesture of affection.
I saw it then, a faint, reddish mark on his neck, peeking out from under his collar. A bite mark. Fresh. My blood ran cold, but my expression remained impassive. I focused on his shirt, the same crisp blue button-down he'd worn yesterday. And the day before. Three days straight. My stomach churned.
"What kept you so late, really?" I asked, my voice calm, almost detached. It was a test. A final, desperate attempt to see if he possessed even a sliver of decency, a shred of remorse.
He laughed, a bit too loud, a bit too carefree. "Just some last-minute prep for the big merger proposal. You know Haylie. She's a stickler for details." He leaned in, attempting to kiss my forehead.
I recoiled subtly, feigning a clumsy stumble against the wall. "Ugh, I'm just so tired. My head is pounding."
He paused, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face before quickly being replaced by feigned concern. "Poor thing. You should get some rest." He shrugged, turning back towards the pizza.
As he walked away, a faint, cloyingly sweet scent reached me. Haylie White's perfume. Expensive. Distinctive. It clung to him, a foul stench of his deception. My jaw tightened. The nausea swelled.
"I think I'll just skip dinner," I said, my voice barely a whisper. I needed distance. I needed to breathe.
"Okay, babe. See you in the morning," he called out, already immersed in his pizza.
I retreated to our bedroom, the sanctuary that now felt like a prison. I closed the door softly, my heart a dull ache in my chest. I stood there, eyes closed, letting the full weight of his betrayal wash over me. The bitter taste of his lies filled my mouth. He had given me no chance. He had given us no chance.
My gaze fell on the small, unassuming silver ring on my finger. The symbol of our impending engagement, a symbol of his deceit. I wanted to rip it off, to throw it against the wall, to erase every trace of him. But I didn't. Not yet. I had one more question for him, one final probe into the depths of his self-serving heart.
I walked back into the living room, my steps light. Ben was still engrossed in his food. I sat on the opposite end of the sofa, my voice soft. "Ben," I began, watching him carefully. "Do you ever wonder if you made the right choices in life? If you're truly with the person you're meant to be with?" It was an open question, deceptively simple, yet loaded with the weight of my discovery.
He chewed slowly, then swallowed. He looked at me, his eyes betraying nothing but mild confusion. He had no idea the trap I was laying. He was about to walk right into it, just like he walked into every other woman's bed.
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9.2
She loved him until she lost herself.
Now, behind locked doors and shattered glass, she must learn to breathe again.
When she first met Lloyd, he was magnetic and intoxicating. The kind of man who turned every head when he entered a room, who spoke in promises sweet enough to taste. With him, she felt chosen, cherished, and safe.
But safety was an illusion, and love became a weapon.
And slowly, piece by piece, he dismantled her until nothing of the woman she once was remained.
Now institutionalized after a breakdown, she begins to piece together the brutal truth of what really happened in the shadows of their love story. Memories sting like open wounds: the manipulation disguised as tenderness, the apologies that blurred into threats, the desperate hope that tomorrow he'd be the man she fell for again.
Yet beneath the grief and the shame, a quiet rebellion stirs, a vow to reclaim her voice, her freedom, and her life. Because this is not just a story of how she fell apart. It is a story of how she rises.
Haunting, raw, and achingly intimate, Boys like him peels back the glittering mask of a toxic love affair to reveal the kind of darkness that hides in plain sight, and the unbreakable strength it takes to escape it.

8.9
Seventeen-year-old Nina Storm has spent her life running from her tragic past, her dormant wolf, and the dreams of a mysterious man she can't escape.
Raised by her protective father after her mother's death, she has never stayed in one place long enough to call it home. But everything changed when they return to their home, the Moonlight Pack.
Nina discovers that her mate is Zane, the pack's Alpha... a bond that defies werewolf laws and the pack's expectations. Their undeniable attraction is dangerous, and their bond threatens to disrupt the fragile balance of power within the pack.
When an attack on the pack shatters her world, Nina loses everything, including her life. But death isn't the end.
Reborn, her dormant wolf awakens giving her a newfound strength and powers, Nina must navigate a world of betrayal, love, and vengeance as she unravels the truth about her family, her mate bond, and the danger threatening to destroy everything she holds dear.

9.3
My father ordered me to marry into the cursed Vaughn family.
Their heirs were rumored to die young from a mysterious genetic agony. My sister Kayden laughed, saying she wasn't going to waste her youth planning a funeral. So, I became the sacrificial lamb.
When I refused, my father slammed his hand on the table and threatened to throw my dead mother's ashes into the city dump.
"You are a struggling actress with no money and no power. You have no choice," he told me coldly.
To make matters worse, my own agent drugged my drink at a business dinner, trying to sell my body to a sleazy investor just to secure project funding.
I was completely cornered, suffocating under the weight of their cruelty. I couldn't understand how my own flesh and blood could be so vicious, treating me like a worthless pawn to be traded and discarded.
But none of them knew that while escaping the drug-laced dinner, I crashed directly into the terrifying Vaughn heir, Algot.
When his glowing crimson eyes locked onto me during a violent episode of his cursed pain, we discovered an impossible truth: my physical touch was the only cure for his agony.
Looking at the dark bruises he accidentally left on my neck, I chose not to run. Instead, I pulled out the private business card he gave me and dialed his number.
"You need me," I whispered to the dangerous billionaire. "And I am going to use you to destroy them all."

9.7
Sienna woke up in a hospital room, her body screaming from a severe car accident. Through the glass, a man paced with violent rage, a dark shadow she felt absolutely nothing for.
Her friend Julia burst in, eyes bloodshot, dropping a bomb: "He didn't even try to help you." Dante, Sienna's fiancé, had protected another woman, Valeria, in the crash, leaving Sienna to burn alive.
Her past life unspooled – seven years sacrificed, an architecture degree abandoned, all to serve Dante. Her phone was a shrine to him: his photos, his "taboos," and even "Valeria's preferences," with no trace of Sienna herself.
But amnesia brought no heartbreak, only a cold, calculating fury. She felt disgust for the "idiot" she'd been, stripped of dignity. The memory loss was a release, a blank slate.
With chilling resolve, Sienna deleted every trace of Dante. Ripping out her IV, she declared, "The wedding proceeds." Not for love, but as a weapon: "I need to take back everything that belongs to me before I disappear."

7.3
Clara came home from a fourteen-hour board meeting to the sound of a piercing scream in the playroom.
When she rushed in, she found her husband, Chadwick, kneeling on the floor in a panic.
But he wasn't looking at their five-year-old son, Leo, who had a massive bleeding welt on his forehead.
Instead, Chadwick was trembling as he held the nanny's daughter, Autumn, who barely had a microscopic scratch.
"She needs ice. And antibacterial ointment," Chadwick snapped, carrying the nanny's daughter away and leaving his bleeding son behind.
From that moment, the nightmare only escalated.
Chadwick ordered Clara to cook a three-hour meal for the nanny's kid, threw away Leo's favorite toys because Autumn sneezed, and even secretly took the nanny and her daughter on Leo's promised Disney trip.
The final humiliation came at the Met Gala.
Right before their sponsor speech, Chadwick received a frantic call from the nanny claiming Autumn was having a panic attack.
He abandoned Clara in front of hundreds of flashing cameras, sprinting out of the ballroom.
Clara stood completely alone, the humiliation eating through her veins like acid.
She couldn't understand how a father could call the nanny's kid his "little princess" while watching his own son cry.
Why was he treating his own flesh and blood like garbage just to play savior to another woman's child?
Suddenly, the blinding camera flashes were blocked by a massive shadow.
Erasmo Chase, the heir to New York's largest financial dynasty, stepped out of the darkness and shielded her.
"A man like that is unworthy of your grief, Ms. Best," he whispered, pressing a silk handkerchief into her trembling hand.
Looking at the sharp profile of the powerful man beside her, Clara's shock hardened into a lethal, cold fury.
She was going to dump her family's shares, crash the board, and make Chadwick lose absolutely everything.

8.4
Arlene was the illegitimate daughter of the wealthy Boone family, treated worse than a stray dog. To keep her meager scholarship, she had to swallow her pride and apologize to the frat boy who tormented her.
But he didn't just want an apology. He forced her to drink twenty shots of liquor laced with pure capsaicin extract.
"Drink us under the table, or take off your clothes and crawl out."
Arlene drank until her stomach tore, vomiting blood and collapsing on the filthy club floor.
When she dragged her half-dead body back to the Boone estate, her biological father and half-sister didn't care. Instead, her sister ground Arlene's SAT admission ticket into the dirt with her stiletto.
"Throw her out. Dad doesn't want to look at her before Hardie's engagement."
The guards threw her onto the gravel, leaving her bleeding and barefoot in the freezing night.
Arlene sat shivering at a dark bus stop, her dignity completely stripped away. She never wanted a dime from the Boones, so why did they insist on crushing her only way out? And why did Dr. Hardie Boone, the untouchable head of the family, look at her with such a twisted, terrifying obsession?
When Hardie's black Aston Martin pulled out of the shadows, he scooped her up, took her away, and locked her inside his penthouse.
"You carry the Boone name. Whether you live or die is my decision."
Trapped by the dangerous man who demanded total control over her life, Arlene finally realized that simply running away was no longer an option.