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 7
Eleonora kicked the grate open and tumbled onto the wet grass of the backyard.
She landed hard. Her ankle twisted with a sickening pop.
Pain shot up her leg, blinding and white-hot. She bit her lip to keep from screaming.
Sirens.
Blue and red lights flashed against the trees.
She tried to stand, but her leg collapsed.
Police officers swarmed the yard. Vivian had called them. Of course she had.
"Eleonora Compton?" A flashlight blinded her. "You're under arrest."
"I'm the victim!" she screamed. "They held me hostage!"
The officer grabbed her arms, cuffing them behind her back. "We have a statement from three witnesses regarding assault on a pregnant woman and corporate theft."
"Theft?"
"Documents found in your bag, ma'am."
Tiffany. She must have planted something.
They shoved her into the back of a cruiser. Through the window, she saw Hightower talking to her father. They were shaking hands.
The holding cell was cold. It smelled of urine and bleach.
They took her shoes. They took her jewelry, but not the small gold locket she'd managed to slip from its chain and tuck deep into the padded lining of her bra just before they'd dragged her from her apartment.
Eleonora sat on the metal bench, shivering. Her ankle was swollen to the size of a grapefruit.
Stark Tower. Penthouse.
Almus Sharpe put down the phone. "She's been arrested. Vivian accused her of stealing trade secrets and causing a miscarriage."
Alden was tying his tie in the mirror. He paused. "Theft? That's clumsy."
"Should I post bail?"
Alden looked at his reflection. His eyes were unreadable.
He waited five seconds.
"No," he said.
Almus blinked. "Sir?"
"I want to see what she does," Alden said, turning to the window. "This is a stress test. If she breaks, she's useless to me. If she waits for a savior, she's weak."
"And if she fights?"
"Then she's my wife."
Back in the cell.
Officer Martinez, a woman with kind eyes, handed Eleonora a paper cup of water. "You don't look like a thief."
"I was framed," Eleonora said, her voice hoarse. "I need a phone call."
"You have the right to call a lawyer."
Eleonora dialed the number on the private card Alden had given her.
It rang.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
She held her breath. Pick up. Please, pick up.
Click. Voicemail.
The automated voice was cold. "The subscriber is not available."
Eleonora lowered the phone. The dial tone buzzed in her ear like a flatline.
He wasn't coming.
She was alone.
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7.4
I never expected to be branded a 'fake heiress' and a 'scheming bitch' on my own wedding anniversary.
"Did you really think we'd never find out you faked the DNA test?" My mother's voice cut like a blade. "You've been impersonating our real daughter all along."
The irony was suffocating. They were the ones who stormed into my peaceful life, insisting that I was their long-lost child-no proof needed. And now they dared to call me the fraud.
"Since Camille has finally returned to where she belongs," my father declared coldly, "it's time for you to crawl back into whatever shadow you came from."
Then came the final blow. My husband of five years didn't even hesitate.
"I'll have the divorce papers drawn up immediately. Don't make this difficult, Mirena. You were never meant to be my wife."
Overnight, I was discarded. The scandal of the city. The woman who stole a life that was never hers.
But they forgot one thing: I never needed them.
Before I was George Ashton's wife, I was Mirena Sterling-the Investment Queen. The woman who broke Wall Street records before she turned twenty-five. A racing champion. A tech prodigy.
I walked away from all of it. Gave up my empire. My crown. My name. All for a man who threw me away like garbage the moment someone "better" came along.
Big mistake.
On the night they cast me out, soaking wet and humiliated, I ran into the last person I ever wanted to see.
"Look at you now, Mirena," Alexander Pierce murmured, watching me with those piercing eyes. "The woman who once ruled the financial world. Reduced to this." He tilted his head. "And for what? Love?" A dark laugh. "Pathetic."
My former rival. The man who spent years trying to beat me-and never once succeeded. Now he stood before me, a Wall Street titan, watching my downfall with hungry satisfaction.
He thought he'd seen the last of me.
He was wrong.
The game was simple now: drop the dead weight, reclaim what's mine, and remind everyone why they feared my name.
Within months, I was back. Every market moved when I breathed. Every headline screamed my return. The Sterlings came crawling, begging for mercy they'd never shown me. And George? He watched in horror as I bought his most prized company without blinking.
The divorce he'd so eagerly signed? His greatest regret.
"Mirena, please," he begged, groveling at my feet. "Give me another chance."
I didn't even look at him. "Sorry, darling. I don't recycle trash."
But what I didn't expect was him.
Alexander Pierce dropped to one knee in front of me-the man who had once mocked my fall, now looking up with something raw and undisguised in his crimson gaze.
"I knew you'd take back everything they stole," he said, voice low. "Now..." A slow, dangerous smile curved his lips. "Take me too."
7.9
A festive surprise turns into a nightmare in Holiday Humiliation. When a husband brings his in-laws home for Christmas, his wife’s assistant violently assaults them, mocking their appearance and causing his mother, Diane, to suffer a heart attack. Instead of offering support, billionaire Wendy Sampson sides with her staff. She dismisses the medical emergency as a fraud and demands her in-laws be evicted, callously wishing for their death as the ultimate holiday gift.
8.7
At her wedding, Lily is devastated when her fiancé, Jake Stevens, kisses his assistant Chloe before their guests. After Jake insults her publicly, Lily cancels the event and moves abroad to rebuild her life. Years later, she returns with a new partner. When Jake sees her happy and deeply in love with someone else, the man who once humiliated her is overcome with intense jealousy. This billionaire romance novel explores Lily's journey from public heartbreak to finding a deserving love.
8.1
For three long years, Nina tolerated a cold, loveless marriage to billionaire Nash. However, her world shatters when he brings his pregnant mistress home, demanding Nina serve her. This ultimate betrayal pushes her to finally seek a divorce, but Nash unexpectedly refuses to let her go. Now, Nina must navigate a web of manipulation and control as she fights for her freedom against a powerful man who won't release his hold on her life.
8.3
Five years ago, a silver bullet meant for Alpha Liam shattered my spine. I took the shot to save him, and in exchange, my inner wolf went silent. I became a ghost in my own pack—the barren Luna.
But gratitude has an expiration date. Liam brought Sarah home, claiming she was just a "designated breeder" for the heir I couldn't provide.
It was a lie. When Sarah faked a fall, Liam didn't defend me. To appease the Elders, he ordered me to be whipped with silver lashes.
He watched from the balcony as I bled.
Later, on the day he marked her, he drained my rare blood to save her from a "miscarriage," then handed me a one-way ticket to Paris.
"It's for your safety," he said, exiling me to make room for his new family.
I looked at the man I sacrificed everything for. He didn't see a wife; he saw a resource to be used and discarded. He thought he could break me and send me away quietly.
So, I gave him exactly what he wanted: a dead Luna.
I didn't board the plane to Paris. Instead, I let him watch the news report that Flight 815 had crashed into the Atlantic with no survivors.
While he went mad with grief, realizing Sarah was a fraud, I was in the North, unlocking the White Wolf he thought was gone forever.
When we met again, I wasn't his broken wife. I was holding another Alpha's hand.
"Liam Vance," I smiled, my eyes glowing white. "I reject you."
9.7
"This is not a game." As I wrapped my arm around her waist, I slipped my hand under her dress.
"What are you doing?" She froze, eyes like a deer caught in the headlights.
Kissing the back of her ear, I whispered, "Do you want me to take it out now?" I rubbed my finger against her pussy. As expected, she was soaking. A blaze of lust and need swept through me. My cock was hard, pressed against her ass. "You're drenched, my love. I know you enjoy it. Stop fighting it. Give in. Submit to your desire."
***
TARA
A family practice forces me to run away from home, leaving me disgraced and my family in shame.
Just when I start making new friends, someone threatens to expose who I am and the person behind my nom de plume. The condition- a contract marriage, the very same reason I fled from.
So, what's so different this time? Mad Shanewood- the achingly handsome, with waving red flags, an irrefutable passion, or a magnetic attraction?
With my secrets still haunting me, now the whole world is watching, and our delicately fragile public image is at stake.
After a glimpse beneath his shallow exterior, there is a damaged soul who makes me feel as if I'm everything to him.
And how is it that the one thing I never wanted has me fighting so hard to keep?
***
MAD
I always get the deal done until my recklessness has thrown the company into a tailspin, derailing my path to a billion-dollar project.
With my image under brutal public scrutiny, marriage is my last straw.
Tara Montimer not only intrigues me. She's selfless, kind-hearted, and sexy as hell. And something deep in her eyes makes me question if I'm worthy to be her husband.
For me, it seems that it's not just fixing my reputation anymore- the entrancing deposed princess didn't only steal my breath away. She penetrates the protective wall around my heart that I built for years.
Our goals may be aligned. But then there's a disapproving father who is a King, a law, and constant threats that prevent us from getting married.
Will this razor-thin edge arrangement be enough to fix what's been broken, or is something between us worth fighting for?