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Bankrupt Socialite: The Billionaire's Revenge Bride Novel Cover

Bankrupt Socialite: The Billionaire's Revenge Bride

I was the bankrupt socialite everyone pitied, standing in the mud at my mother's grave with nothing left but a pair of old Louboutins and a single white rose. My bank account was overdrawn by three hundred dollars, but I still believed Julian, my fiancé, was the one person who hadn't abandoned the toxic Compton name. Then I saw his Maybach shaking in the cemetery parking lot. Through a crack in the window, I heard the man I loved whispering to my stepsister, Tiffany. "Don't worry about the broke princess. Once I secure her voting proxy for the trust, I'm dumping her." Tiffany laughed, clutching the scarlet coat she'd charged to my own maxed-out credit card. "She's so pathetic, Julian. She actually thinks you love her." I didn't scream; I recorded them. But when I tried to use that leverage, my family turned into vipers. To protect Julian's status, they framed me for causing Tiffany to miscarry a fake pregnancy and planted stolen documents in my bag. My own father stood by as they locked me in a room, planning to sell me to a predatory creditor named Hightower to settle his gambling debts. I ended up in a freezing police cell, my ankle shattered and my reputation destroyed. I sat on that metal bench, shivering as I realized my own blood had traded my life for a check. I called the only man powerful enough to burn them all-Julian's uncle, the "Butcher of Wall Street," Alden Stark. The phone just kept ringing. He wasn't coming. To the world, I was just a walking bankruptcy filing, a girl who had finally run out of luck. I didn't wait for a savior. I escaped custody and ran barefoot through the rain, leaving a trail of blood on the marble floor of Stark Tower. When I collapsed at Alden's feet, he didn't look at me with pity; he looked at me like a rare, damaged artifact he finally owned. "Inform the board that this is my fiancée," he announced, lifting me into his arms. I signed the marriage contract that night, trading my freedom for the power to ensure my family's liabilities exceeded their assets for the rest of their natural lives.
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Chapter 5

The Compton estate smelled of mold and desperation.

Eleonora had been summoned. Or rather, dragged. Two of her father's "associates" had intercepted her outside her apartment.

She walked into the living room. Her stepmother, Vivian, sat on the sofa, looking like a coiled viper. Her father, Richard, stood by the fireplace, looking old and weak.

Tiffany was sitting in a wheelchair.

"You ruined Tiffany's reputation!" Vivian shrieked. "The Alumni Association sent a letter!"

"She ruined it herself when she cheated," Eleonora said calmly.

Julian stepped out of the shadows. He was standing next to Tiffany. "Give me the original video file, Eleonora. Or your father doesn't get a dime for his bail."

Eleonora looked at her father. "You're letting him threaten me?"

Richard looked at the floor. "El... for the family. You have to sacrifice."

Eleonora felt a crack in her chest. The last piece of her childhood, breaking.

Suddenly, Tiffany stood up from the wheelchair. She forgot she was supposed to be injured. She rushed at Eleonora. "You jealous witch!"

Eleonora sidestepped.

Tiffany's momentum carried her forward. She tripped on the rug and collided with the banister of the stairs. It wasn't a hard hit, but she let out a scream that could shatter glass.

She slid to the floor, clutching her stomach. "Ah! My baby! Julian, our baby!"

Silence.

Julian dropped to his knees. "Baby? You're pregnant?"

Vivian gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. "Murderer! Eleonora pushed her! She's carrying a Stark heir!"

Eleonora stared. "I didn't touch her."

Julian looked up. His eyes were wild. He saw it. The golden ticket. An heir. A way to secure his place in the trust against Alden.

"You tried to kill my child," Julian said, his voice dripping with venom.

"This is attempted murder," Vivian declared. "We're calling the police. Unless..."

"Unless what?" Eleonora asked, her voice trembling with rage.

"Unless you sign over your remaining inheritance rights," Richard said softly. "And marry Mr. Hightower to settle my debts."

Eleonora looked at them. Her father. Her family. They were selling her.

"You make me sick," she said.

She turned to the door.

Two large men blocked the exit.

"Welcome home, darling," Vivian smiled.

They grabbed her arms. Eleonora kicked and screamed, but they dragged her upstairs. They threw her into her old bedroom.

The lock clicked.

She ran to the window. Bars. They had put bars on the windows years ago, "for security." Now, it was a prison.

She checked her pockets. Her phone was gone.

Tomorrow was the signing with Alden. And she was locked in a tower, with no knight coming to save her.

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