Betrayed Wife: Claimed By The Ruthless CEO
Isolde Mitchell knew her wealthy husband was cheating on her, but the true nightmare began when her mother-in-law summoned her.
The older woman coldly announced that the mistress was pregnant with a boy and would be moving into their estate.
Because Isolde's family had gone bankrupt and she had only given birth to a frail daughter, she was deemed completely worthless.
When Isolde packed her bags and demanded a divorce, her husband Clark just laughed.
He threatened to use their ironclad prenup to leave her penniless and take full custody of her daughter just to torture her.
To make matters worse, he forced Isolde to secure a failing business deal with the ruthless billionaire Jacques Valdez, essentially ordering her to sell her body to get the signature.
"If you fail, you will never see Bria again."
He even sent his goons to snatch the little girl from her preschool to prove his point.
Isolde was completely cornered, trembling with a mix of rage and absolute despair.
How could the man she married be such a monster? She would rather die than let them destroy her daughter, but how could a bankrupt mother fight a powerful dynasty with absolutely nothing?
Out of options, she looked at the private business card the terrifying billionaire Jacques had unexpectedly given her daughter.
Swallowing her pride, she decided to make a deal with the devil himself, ready to use his power to tear her husband's family apart.
Chapters
Share
Chapter 1
The brass door handle was cold against her sweaty palm. Isolde Mitchell stared at the heavy oak door of the private suite, her chest tight with a mixture of dread and reckless fury. The image of Clark's hands roaming over Kelsey Byrd's body in the back of his Mercedes flashed behind her eyelids. It burned away her hesitation. She pushed the handle down. The door clicked open.
The suite was dim, bathed only in the neon glow bleeding through the floor-to-ceiling windows. A tall silhouette stood facing the glass, the outline of his shoulders broad and unyielding. Isolde stepped inside, her heart hammering against her ribs. She pushed the door shut behind her, the lock engaging with a solid, final thunk.
She had paid for discretion. She needed a tool, a stranger who could erase Clark's touch from her skin without asking a single question.
"I think we both know why we're here," she said, her voice steadier than she felt. "So let's... skip the boring preamble."
The silhouette turned. The city lights caught the sharp angle of his jaw, the straight line of his nose. His eyes were dark, piercing, locking onto her with an intensity that made the air in her lungs turn to ice. He didn't move to unbutton his shirt. He didn't look like a man who took orders.
He took a step forward. Then another. The sheer size of him filled her vision, erasing the rest of the room. Isolde's breath hitched. She took a step back, her spine hitting the door.
"Excuse me?" His voice was a low rumble, vibrating in the small space between them.
"I said..." Isolde swallowed, trying to regain control. "I paid for a service. I want you to start."
A slow, dangerous smile curved his lips. He closed the remaining distance, crowding her against the wood. His hand came up, his long fingers wrapping around her chin, tilting her face up to meet his gaze. His thumb brushed across her lower lip, the touch burning hot against her chilled skin.
"Do you even know what kind of fire you're playing with?" he asked, his voice dropping to a whisper that brushed against her cheek.
The scent hit her. Cedar. Smoke. A faint trace of leather. The world tilted sideways. The intoxicating, overwhelming aroma wrapped around her, suddenly triggering a suffocating sense of dread, as if touching a dark, terrifying switch buried deep within her mind. She gasped, her eyes flying wide. No. That was the past. This was now. This was her choice.
She grabbed the lapels of his suit jacket, her fingers digging into the expensive fabric. She pulled him closer, desperate to overwrite the old memory with a new reality, desperate to scrub Clark's betrayal off her skin.
Jacques Valdez looked down at her hands, then back at her face. His gaze drifted down, snagging on her collarbone. The silver bracelet resting there, the Mitchell family crest glinting in the low light. His pupils contracted. His body went rigid.
The shrill, piercing ringtone of a cell phone shattered the moment.
Isolde flinched, her head snapping toward her clutch bag on the side table. The screen glowed with a name: Clark.
Reality crashed back over her like a bucket of ice water. What was she doing? She shoved Jacques back with all her strength. He stepped back, caught off guard. Isolde stumbled away from the door, her hip catching the edge of the side table. A crystal whiskey glass wobbled, tipped, and shattered on the floor, amber liquid splashing across the hem of her dress.
"I'm sorry," she stammered, her voice cracking. "I have to go."
She grabbed her bag and ran. Her heels slipped on the thick carpet, but she didn't stop. She yanked the door open and fled into the hallway, the sound of her ragged breathing drowning out the persistent ringing of her phone.
She didn't look back. She couldn't.
Inside the suite, Jacques stood motionless. The smell of her perfume still hung in the air, mixing with the sharp tang of spilled whiskey. He looked down at the carpet. A silver bracelet lay there, its clasp broken. He bent down, his fingers closing around the cool metal. He rubbed his thumb over the engraved crest. The Mitchell crest. He had been looking for this for four years.
He slipped the bracelet into his inner jacket pocket, right against his heart. He walked to the door and pulled it open.
"Ken," he said to the large man standing in the hall.
His bodyguard stepped forward. "Sir?"
"Find out who that woman was. Now."
Isolde drove like a maniac, her hands shaking so badly the steering wheel vibrated. She glanced in the rearview mirror. Her makeup was smudged, her hair a mess. The thrill of revenge she had expected never came. Only a deep, gnawing fear. That man wasn't an escort. He was a predator. And she had just walked right into his den.
The gates of the Ruiz estate swung open. As she pulled up the long driveway, her stomach dropped. The main house was ablaze with light. Every window on the ground floor glowed. A shadow moved behind the curtains of the living room. Agnes Ruiz.
Isolde cut the engine and sat in the dark for a moment, trying to slow her racing heart. She had to pull herself together. She had to face whatever was waiting for her inside.
She walked through the front door and nearly collided with Linda McCoy. The older housekeeper balanced a tray with a steaming cup of tea, her eyes filled with pity.
"Mrs. Ruiz," Linda murmured, glancing toward the living room. "Your mother-in-law is waiting for you."
Isolde nodded, smoothing down her ruined dress. She pasted on a blank mask and walked into the living room.
Agnes Ruiz sat on the velvet sofa, her spine straight as a ruler. Beside her, arranged neatly on the coffee table, was a stack of pastel-colored baby blankets and a set of ivory feeding bottles. Isolde's steps faltered. A cold dread settled in her stomach.
"Sit down, Isolde." Agnes's voice was like dry leaves scraping against stone.
Isolde remained standing. "What is all this?"
Agnes took a delicate sip of her tea, her pinky finger extended. "It's time we addressed the elephant in the room, isn't it? Your father's company went under years ago. The Mitchell name is worthless now. And you..." Agnes set her cup down with a sharp clink. "You couldn't even give this family a proper heir."
"I gave you Bria," Isolde said, her nails digging into her palms.
Agnes scoffed, a cruel sound that made Isolde flinch. "A frail little girl who spends more time at the doctor than the playground. What can she do for the Ruiz family? She cannot carry on the legacy or continue our bloodline."
Isolde's stomach cramped. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying, Isolde, that since you are clearly incapable of performing your duties, Clark has found someone who can." Agnes smiled, a thin, venomous line. "Kelsey Byrd is pregnant. And she is carrying a boy."
The room spun. Isolde gripped the back of a chair to steady herself. Four years ago, she had given birth in agony, only to be told her son was dead. And now, Clark was parading his bastard child as the savior of the family line.
"She will not step foot in this house," Isolde said, her voice trembling with rage.
"She already has," Agnes countered, rising to her feet. She walked toward Isolde, her posture imposing. "Clark is bringing her here. To live. Under this roof. So the rightful heir can be born under the Ruiz banner."
"Over my dead body," Isolde spat. "I am his wife. As long as I am breathing, that woman will never cross that threshold."
Agnes laughed, a hollow, grating sound. "You foolish girl. You think you have a choice? If you don't accept this arrangement, Clark will divorce you. And with that ironclad prenup you signed, you will leave here with nothing. Worse, you will leave without Bria. We will take her, Isolde. And you will never see her again."
The threat hung in the air, suffocating. Isolde stared at the older woman, seeing the malice in her eyes, the absolute certainty that she would follow through. Isolde's nails broke the skin of her palms, the sharp pain the only thing keeping her grounded.
She turned on her heel and walked out of the room, slamming the heavy oak door behind her. She wasn't going to stand there and take it. She wasn't going to be a lamb waiting for the slaughter. She was getting out.
You may also like
7.9
One night of deception.
A lifetime of consequences.
A bond that cannot be broken.
Nadia Williams is an Omega living in the shadows of the pack she once called home.
Since her father's death, she and her mother, Estelle, have been treated as outcasts by her ruthless uncle, Alpha Edwards. When her mother is framed for theft, Nadia is forced into a deal with the devil.
To save her mother's life, she must become a virgin substitute for her cousin, Danielle.
Her aunt, Katerina, offers a devil's bargain to set her mother free: Nadia must spend one night in the bed of the most powerful man in the country, the billionaire; Alpha Conrad Bradley.
The catch?
She must swap places with her spiteful cousin.
Conrad demands a virgin bride to secure his royal bloodline, and Danielle, Nadia's cruel cousin, has already forfeited her purity.
What begins as a desperate night of passion in the dark spirals into a web of hidden identities and betrayal.
Nadia survives the night and disappears, hoping to bury the shame of the encounter forever.
But fate has a different plan.
Desperate for a fresh start away from her uncle's shadow, Nadia secures a high-level position at Bradley Group of Industries.
As Alpha Conrad unknowingly hires Nadia at his company, an undeniable connection sparks between them.
Conrad is haunted by the scent of the woman from that night-a scent that doesn't match his fiancée, Danielle, but seems to cling to his new, brilliant employee.
As they work side-by-side, Nadia finds an unexpected and beautiful second chance at a life she thought was lost.
Yet, buried secrets threaten to destroy everything.
When the Alpha discovers the woman he truly bonded with, the fallout will be legendary.
9.7
For three years, I endured being treated like a walking ATM and a maid by my husband's family, biting my tongue to keep the peace.
Then, my husband's buddy suddenly dropped off a nine-year-old boy at my front door.
The crumpled note from my husband casually explained it was his illegitimate son, blaming me for being barren and demanding I raise the kid as our own.
My mother-in-law was absolutely thrilled, parading the boy around as the true heir at the dinner table.
"Some trees just don't bear fruit, no matter how much water you give them," she sneered.
My brother-in-law cheered, and my drunk father-in-law demanded I cook a feast to celebrate.
They actually expected me to continue paying the mortgage, buying the groceries, and cleaning up their endless messes, all while raising the living proof of my husband's betrayal.
I looked at the parasites who had drained me dry for years, acting like they were doing me a favor by letting me stay in a house that my money paid for.
I didn't scream, and I didn't cry.
I simply called my lawyer to file for an immediate divorce, froze every single bank account and credit card they relied on, and drove off to my grandmother's secluded cabin in the woods.
Let them see how long they survive without my money.
8.4
Kathern was forced out of her sister's home by her abusive brother-in-law, who violently demanded she pay half the rent or get out.
To protect her sister from his rage, Kathern agreed to a six-month paper marriage with a stranger—an old woman's grandson, Bronson—in exchange for a simple apartment.
But her new husband treated her like a scheming gold digger from the very first second.
He showed up to City Hall in a cheap suit, shoved a brutal prenup in her face, and dumped her in a completely empty, dust-filled apartment.
"Just don't cause any trouble," he warned coldly, before leaving her alone.
When Kathern politely texted him to ask if he was coming home for dinner, he immediately blocked her number.
Kathern was furious and baffled. She didn't want a dime of his money, nor did she care about his boring middle-management job.
She had only agreed to this marriage for a place to sleep, yet this arrogant man treated her like absolute garbage.
Refusing to swallow the insult, Kathern immediately dialed his grandmother to expose his behavior.
She was going to build her own independent life, completely unaware that her "cheap corporate loser" of a husband was actually the ruthless billionaire CEO of the Vaughan empire.
8.9
Debora went to prison to protect the man she loved, only to end up a paroled convict living under the roof of her abusive foster parents.
When they found her positive pregnancy test from a one-night stand, they threatened to kick her out and send her straight back to a cell.
Just as they were about to report her, the stranger from that dark hotel room suddenly appeared.
He paid her foster parents one million dollars to marry her and take her away.
Debora thought she was finally safe.
But the moment they were alone, he looked at her with pure, venomous hatred.
He didn't want a wife; he wanted a prisoner.
He believed Debora was the ruthless murderer who had destroyed his life in a car crash, and he planned to make her suffocate in her own despair.
He didn't know she was just a scapegoat.
To survive and protect her baby, Debora found a job at a bridal shop, only to run into the real culprit—the man who actually drove the car and framed her.
He was now happily engaged to a wealthy heiress.
They deliberately ruined a priceless wedding gown and blamed it on her.
"Kneel on this floor and apologize, or I'm calling the police to revoke your parole!"
Why did she have to rot in hell for his sins, while the man she married wanted to destroy her?
Just as her trembling knees were about to touch the cold marble floor, the heavy glass doors were violently shoved open.
Her billionaire husband strode in like a force of nature, his eyes locked onto the wealthy couple with a terrifying, destructive rage.
7.6
My father raised seven brilliant orphans to be my potential husbands. For years, I only had eyes for one of them, the cold and distant Damien Paul, believing his distance was a wall I just had to break through.
That belief shattered last night when I found him in the garden, kissing his foster sister, Eve—the fragile girl my family took in at his request, the one I had treated like my own sister.
But the true horror came when I overheard the other six Fellows talking in the library.
They weren't competing for me. They were working together, orchestrating "accidents" and mocking my "stupid, blind" devotion to keep me away from Damien.
Their loyalty wasn't to me, the heiress who held their futures in her hands. It was to Eve.
I wasn't a woman to be won. I was a foolish burden to be managed. The seven men I grew up with, the men who owed my family everything, were a cult, and she was their queen.
This morning, I walked into my father's study to make a decision that would burn their world to the ground. He smiled, asking if I'd finally won Damien over.
"No, Dad," I said, my voice firm. "I'm marrying Hunter Beach."
9.4
Dorene survived a terrifying night with a bleeding, dangerous intruder in her hotel penthouse, only to receive a far more devastating blow the next morning.
A black and gold envelope arrived. It was an engagement invitation. Her boyfriend of seven years, Kadyn, was marrying her sweet, innocent best friend, Dolly.
Refusing to hide, Dorene crashed the gala in a blood-red gown. But Dolly was ready. Grabbing Dorene's wrists, Dolly purposely threw herself backward into a tower of champagne glasses, shrieking about her stomach and her unborn baby.
"If anything happens to Dolly or my child, I swear to God, I will destroy you!"
Kadyn roared, holding the weeping Dolly in the broken glass. He didn't ask a single question. He branded Dorene a jealous monster. To completely break her dignity, he publicly handed her over to the city's most notorious, sleazy playboy just to appease Dolly's fake tears.
"Give him a shot," Kadyn told her coldly.
Seven years of love were ground into the marble floor. She was framed, publicly humiliated, and discarded like trash by the two people she trusted most.
Dorene didn't shed a single tear. She gave them a smile of pure, freezing mockery and walked out of the gilded cage into the freezing Manhattan night. She didn't know that as she left, the lethal, blood-stained man from her penthouse was watching from the shadows, ready to help her burn their world to the ground.