
Bargained Hearts: When Mr. Coldhearted Turns Hopeless Romantic
For three years, she was the gentle, obedient wife to a man whose heart never thawed.
Their marriage was a lopsided bargain, sealed by her brother's injury.
Millie clung to hope that her devotion would win him over, only to discover someone else already held his heart.
On their anniversary, she waited alone in the freezing mountains, while he celebrated with another woman.
Without complaint, she packed up and signed the divorce papers.
Everyone believed Darren never loved her, so divorce was certain.
But time passed, and instead, he pleaded, "Sweetheart, can we not get divorced?"
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Chapter 4
When their parents passed away, both Ruben and Millie were still children, and their uncle took control of the company.
From that point on, Ruben became more than just an older brother. He grew into a guardian who watched over her every step. As she grew up, he shielded her from hardship and indulged her whenever he could.
Since childhood, he had dreamed of becoming a doctor. However, after injuring his hand, that future slipped out of reach. At nearly the same time, their uncle had mismanaged the company to such an extent that it was close to ruin, and Ruben had no option but to return and take responsibility.
Despite pouring his energy into saving it over the past few years, the decline of the company continued, and his efforts could not fully reverse the damage.
Standing inside the apartment, Ruben examined the surroundings carefully. The longer he looked, the more his expression tightened. "Come back home," he said with quiet insistence. "My little princess should not be staying in a place like this."
Gently, Millie shook her head. "It is really fine. The space may be small, but it is located downtown, and transportation is convenient," she said. Then her tone softened. "Right now, I just need some time by myself."
She knew how much strain the company had already placed on him. At the same time, she understood that her own heart had not yet recovered. Staying by his side every day would only add to his worries, and she did not want to become another burden he had to carry.
"But..."
He tried to protest, but Millie did not let him continue.
"Ruben, during the three years I was married to Darren, I did not accomplish anything for myself. Now that I am ending it, I want to take this chance to discover what I am capable of."
A faint crease appeared between his brows. "Do you believe I cannot provide for you?" Darren asked, lifting an eyebrow. In his view, she had no reason to concern herself with survival.
Calm but resolute, Millie replied, "Depending on you would certainly make life easy, but comfort can slowly wear a person down." She wanted to explore the world beyond her narrow routine and gain experiences of her own. Perhaps then her thoughts would not trap her so easily.
Although Ruben fell silent, the unease in his eyes remained.
To reassure him, Millie lifted her hand as if making a promise. "I will not act recklessly," she said firmly.
After studying her for a moment, Ruben asked quietly, "So you truly intend to end things with Darren?" He knew better than anyone how deeply she had once loved Darren.
Without hesitation, Millie gave a small nod.
Doubt still lingered in his expression, yet Ruben chose not to press further for fear of upsetting her. Instead, he reached out and gently tousled her hair. "Whatever path you choose, I will stand behind you."
Moved by his words, Millie wrapped her arms around him once more. "Thank you, Ruben," she said gently.
No matter how stubborn or unreasonable she had been in the past, he never once turned his back on her. Whenever she needed him, Ruben showed up without hesitation and without conditions.
Instead of ordering takeout, he went into the kitchen and prepared a meal for her himself. They sat across from each other and shared lunch in a calm and familiar silence. Only after confirming that she truly seemed steady did he finally take his leave.
Once the door closed behind him, the apartment grew overwhelmingly quiet. To break the stillness, Millie switched on the television and let the noise fill the room. She had been seriously considering what direction her life should take next, yet somewhere between those thoughts, she drifted off without noticing.
The sharp sound of her phone ringing startled her awake. By then, night had already settled outside the windows.
Reaching for her phone, she glanced at the screen and saw Brice's name.
Although she could not guess his reason for calling, she answered without delay. "Hello?"
On the other end, Brice spoke in a controlled tone. "Mrs. Evans, I am currently at Verve Hotel with Mr. Evans for a business dinner. I happened to see Mr. Morgan here. He appears to have had too much to drink, and he is alone."
The moment Millie heard that, she rose to her feet. "I will be there right away," she said firmly.
Without wasting time, she grabbed a coat, hurried outside, and signaled for a taxi as quickly as she could.
About fifteen minutes later, she arrived outside the private room at Verve Hotel. Most of the guests had already left, yet the heavy scent of alcohol still lingered in the air.
At the table, Ruben sat slumped forward with his eyes shut. His tie hung loose around his collar, and his shirt was creased and untidy. He had always paid close attention to his appearance, so seeing him in such a state unsettled her.
She called out gently, "Ruben?"
Slowly, Ruben forced his eyes open and focused on her for a brief moment before letting them fall closed again. "Millie… what are you doing here?"
There was no doubt he had drunk far beyond his limit.
Concern tightening her chest, Millie asked, "Why are you by yourself? Where is Jonathan?"
Jonathan Miller, his assistant, was usually never far from him.
"He had other matters to handle," Ruben replied in a sluggish tone.
Gently, she leaned closer to him. "Come on. Let me take you home," Millie said.
With effort, he forced out a response before his eyes drifted shut again. "Give me a moment," he muttered. "Just one more minute… then we can leave."
No matter how hard Millie tried, she could not lift him on her own. Realizing she needed assistance, she stepped out to look for a staff member. As she walked past the restroom corridor, the voices of two middle-aged men reached her ears.
"Ruben Morgan used to stand at the top. Have you ever seen him in a position like this before? These days have not been kind to him."
"Things were different when he still had ties with the Evans family. Back then, people were willing to be patient. Now that his sister is divorcing Mr. Evans, no one feels obligated to be generous. We are running businesses, not charities. We cannot afford to let our investments sink with him."
"That is right."
Hearing those words, a sharp pressure built in Millie's chest as the image of Ruben slumped over the table flashed through her mind. She turned slightly, and her gaze landed on Darren as he stepped out of a private room nearby.
Zoey had been clinging to his arm only moments earlier. As soon as she noticed Millie standing there, she released her grip at once, as though she wanted the gesture to be seen.
With a bright and carefully measured smile, Zoey spoke first. "Millie, what a coincidence. Did you come here looking for Darren?"
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7.4
Tonight was supposed to be Cordelia's grand engagement party, the night she finally secured her future.
But an hour before the banquet, she received an anonymous video. Her fiancé was in the hotel's penthouse, tangled in the sheets with her stepsister. They had even paid off her trusted staff to keep her isolated.
Cordelia didn't shed a single tear. She walked onto the grand stage, hijacked the screens, and broadcasted their betrayal to hundreds of New York's elite. She tore up the multimillion-dollar prenup and threw the pieces in his face.
"The engagement is canceled. My legal team will seize your family's assets by tomorrow morning."
But instead of support, her own father violently grabbed her wrist, furious that she ruined their reputation. Her stepmother tried to slap her for the cameras, and her ex-fiancé threatened to completely destroy her career. Surrounded by the people who were supposed to be her family, she was treated like the villain.
Just as she was cornered, Justice Duncan, the most ruthless billionaire on Wall Street, stepped out of the shadows.
He offered her absolute protection and capital, but only if she signed a five-year contract marriage to mother his four-year-old heir.
But when Cordelia finally met the little boy, her blood ran completely cold.
The boy was the exact baby she was told she had miscarried four years ago. And the billionaire handing her the marriage contract was the same stranger who had taken him.

8.4
She'd spent her whole life hearing the same thing: cold, distant and untouchable.Like she was something behind glass-safe to admire, impossible to reach.
Then she met him.
A man who was sitting in the dark when she walked in. A stranger in her mother's house. All hard edges and quiet intensity, the kind of man who didn't need to raise his voice to fill a room. When he looked at her, really looked, something shifted. The air got thicker which made her pulse kicked up in a way she'd never felt before.
He didn't touch her because he didn't have to.
He just muttered one word;low and rough, like gravel and honey.
"Kneel."
And she did.
Not because she was weak,not because she didn't know better but because for the first time in her life, someone saw past the glass and the careful distance she'd built around herself. He saw what she'd been hiding-the part of her that wanted to be taken, not just touched.
"Yes, Daddy."
The words left her mouth before she could think. And when they did, something inside her cracked wide open.
From that night on, Jessy wasn't the girl people whispered about anymore. She was the woman who'd tasted danger and couldn't get enough. The one who finally understood what it meant to feel.

7.5
She left him five years ago, long before he became the ruthless billionaire the world now fears.
Now she's ready to marry again but first, she needs his signature.
Except Enzo Wayne doesn't plan to let go. He's waited five years to remind her what belonging means.
One signature, one demand, one impossible month..and one question neither of them wants to answer: What if she never stopped loving him?

8.2
When our family empire crumbled, my sister and I were sold off as collateral to the Chicago Outfit.
My fierce sister Frankie was forced to marry Damien Moretti, the terrifying Don. I was shackled to his brother Leo, a notorious, degenerate playboy.
I thought my life was over, but the real nightmare began on our wedding night. A terrified maid handed me the wrong room key. Exhausted and numb, I crawled into a dark honeymoon suite, praying my new husband would be too drunk to find me.
Instead, the heavy door opened, and a man fueled by a drug-laced drink stepped in. He was ruthless, punishing, and entirely stripped away my dignity in the pitch black.
When the morning light finally broke, I turned my head, expecting to see Leo's boyish face. Instead, I saw a profile carved from ice.
Damien Moretti. The Don. My sister's husband.
The very man who had previously called me a "liability" and ruined my life. When he realized who I was, his eyes filled with absolute, chilling disgust. He dragged me out of the ruined sheets, threw me onto the floor of a freezing shower, and demanded to know why I had sneaked into his suite.
"You ruined me. How am I supposed to look at Frankie? You should have just killed me. Kill me now, Damien. It would be a mercy compared to this."
I sobbed, the freezing water mingling with my tears. He just stared down at me with cold, unreadable intent. I was now trapped in a house of monsters, carrying the Don's darkest secret, and I had to figure out how to survive without destroying my sister.

8.1
I'd lived as a mafia queen, ruling with quiet strength, only to discover my entire life was a lie. My husband, Dante, secretly divorced me three years ago, then married our timid nanny. I wasn't just betrayed; I was a dead ex-wife walking, a ghost in my own home.
A mafia daughter, I expected routine at Rossi's law firm. But Rossi, pale and sweating, handed me an envelope: Dante's divorce judgment, signed three years ago, and his marriage certificate to Gia, our nanny.
Truth slammed me: Gia poisoned me for years, causing infertility, making her bastard son the sole heir. Hidden, I watched her force Dante, the Underboss, to kneel, drink hallucinogenic tea, and profess devotion. She smirked.
This was calculated murder: my existence, my legacy. Rage burned, but clarity struck: disappear, or vanish into the Long Island Sound.
From a hidden phone, I called Luca, the underworld's elite cleaner. "I need a top-tier scrub. Target is myself," I commanded. "Get me out of this hell. I'd rather die than be his taxidermy specimen."

8.5
After five years in prison, Alexia longed for freedom and the family she thought awaited her-only to discover a deadly plot orchestrated by the sister they cherished.
In her final moments, she realized those years were a sacrifice made to protect a bunch of leeches.
Reborn, she abandoned all hope for family and reshaped herself in darkness, turning pain into power.
Quietly, she began her revenge, using a dangerous man as her pawn to execute every step flawlessly and crush those who betrayed her.
But as she played her game, he pulled her closer and warned, "Think you can use me and walk away? Not a chance."