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 2
Isolde POV
Ben's brow furrowed, his fork pausing halfway to his mouth. He looked at me, a blank canvas of feigned confusion. "What kind of question is that, Isolde? Of course, I'm with the person I'm meant to be with. You." He forced a smile, a brittle thing that didn't reach his eyes. It was the same smile he'd used when he'd charmed his way into my life, convincing me he was a diamond in the rough, a man of integrity. Now, it was just a performance.
"And what makes you so sure?" I pressed, my voice calm, betraying none of the turmoil raging inside me. I wanted to see how deep his lies went, how much effort he would put into this charade.
He set his fork down, leaning forward, an earnest expression plastered on his face. "Because you're smart, Isolde. You're supportive. You believe in me. You're always there for me." His words were hollow, clichés he'd heard in cheap romantic comedies. Not once did he mention my kindness, my laughter, our shared dreams, the small jokes that defined our intimacy. It was all about what I did for him, what value I added to his life.
I felt a bitter laugh bubble up in my throat, but I swallowed it down. Supportive? I was the one who secretly spent countless nights poring over his presentations, fixing his shoddy research, connecting him with the right people through my 'anonymous' network. Believes in him? I was the fool who sacrificed her identity to let him shine, thinking his success was ours. Always there? I was just a warm body, a stepping stone.
"Is that all?" I asked, my voice dangerously soft. "Is that all you see in me?"
His gaze darted around the room, from the half-eaten pizza to the framed photos of us on the shelf, avoiding my eyes. He was searching for an answer, a new platitude to throw my way. He found none. He couldn't articulate anything genuine because there was nothing genuine left.
He cleared his throat, adjusting his posture. "No, of course not, Isolde. You're beautiful. You're kind. You're everything I could ever want." He reached for my hand, his palm sweaty and cold. It was a repulsive gesture. The touch felt like a slimy slug crawling on my skin. I fought the urge to pull away.
"What if, Ben," I began, pulling my hand away gently, my voice still light, "what if someone else came along? Someone wealthier, more powerful, someone who could open all the doors you want opened? Someone like Haylie White, perhaps?" The name hung in the air, a silent accusation.
His jaw tightened. His eyes, for the first time, flickered with something akin to panic. But he quickly regained his composure, his mask slipping back into place. "Isolde, what are you talking about? There's no one like that. And even if there was, it wouldn't matter. We're getting married. You're my future." He tried to sound indignant, but his voice cracked slightly.
"Are you sure about that, Ben?" I persisted, pushing harder. "Are you absolutely, one hundred percent sure there's no one else? No whispers, no rumors, nothing you're hiding?" The words were a direct challenge, an arrow aimed straight at his heart, or what I once believed was his heart.
He grabbed my hand again, squeezing it tightly. His eyes were wide, earnest, and completely fake. "Isolde, darling, you know how much I love you. We're getting married. That's all that matters. Don't listen to gossip. People are always jealous of happy couples." He leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "You're the only woman for me. Always have been, always will be. We'll build our empire together, won't we?"
His performance was Oscar-worthy. The way his eyes moistened, the tremor in his voice, the desperate sincerity. It was a masterpiece of deceit. But I saw through it all. He wasn't trying to convince me of his love; he was trying to convince himself that he could still manipulate me. He was a cheap con artist, and I had been his easiest mark.
I pulled my hand free, the touch leaving a phantom itch on my skin. I stood up, slowly, deliberately. The sudden movement caught him off guard. He looked up at me, his face still a mask of feigned innocence.
"Haylie White," I said, my voice cutting through the silence like a razor. My eyes locked onto his, every ounce of my pain and rage distilled into that one name.
His smile vanished. His face went slack, a ghastly pale. The color drained from his lips. He looked like he'd seen a ghost. The air crackled with the sudden, undeniable truth.
"Haylie... what about her?" he stammered, his voice thin, almost a squeak. He tried to play dumb, to pretend he didn't understand. It was pathetic.
I laughed then, a low, humorless sound that surprised even myself. It was the sound of a heart breaking into a million pieces, yet finding strength in the fragments. "Don't pretend, Ben. Don't insult my intelligence." My voice softened, but the coldness in it was palpable. "It's over."
The words hung heavy in the air, final and absolute. He had his chance. I gave him every opportunity to confess, to salvage some shred of his dignity. He chose to lie. He chose to betray. He chose Haylie White. And now, he had lost everything. The game was truly over for him. But for me, it was just beginning.
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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.