Bought By The Cold Billionaire Husband
I sold myself into a loveless marriage for $500,000 just to afford my little niece's life-saving surgery.
But my new husband, Kash, despised me, completely convinced I was a shameless gold-digger after his assets.
At 2:00 AM, he called to demand I fulfill my end of our twisted bargain: giving him an heir.
He forced me to sign a supplementary agreement surrendering all custody rights before I was even pregnant, treating me like a rented womb he bought at auction.
When my niece's condition suddenly worsened and I desperately begged him for a $50,000 advance, he hurled a black credit card directly at my face, leaving a stinging red welt.
"Take the money and get out," he sneered, his eyes filled with absolute disgust.
He immediately set up real-time transaction alerts to track my every purchase, waiting to catch me on a selfish shopping spree.
He thought I was a parasite, completely unaware that every single penny went straight to the pediatric intensive care unit.
Even my abusive former guardians cornered me at the fertility clinic, loudly mocking me for selling my body while my niece was dying.
I endured the degrading contracts, the cold IVF appointments, and Kash's relentless contempt, suffocating under the weight of his cruel assumptions.
Why did he have to strip away my dignity when he already owned my life on paper?
But as I clutched the hospital receipt that finally secured my niece's surgery, the fear inside me died.
With a new career starting tomorrow and a high-powered lawyer suddenly stepping in to audit my stolen inheritance, I was done playing the helpless victim.
I was going to show my arrogant husband exactly what happens when you push a desperate woman too far.
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Chapter 4
Kash lifted her without breaking the kiss, carrying her down the hallway. He kicked open a door and threw her onto the massive bed.
The mattress dipped under her weight. Before she could catch her breath, he was over her, his heavy body pinning her down. He yanked at her jacket, pulling it off her shoulders, his hands rough and impatient.
His mouth moved down her neck, hot and demanding. Davina's body betrayed her, a traitorous heat pooling in her stomach. Her back arched off the bed, her fingers digging into the sheets.
It was too much. It was too fast.
Daisy's face flashed in her mind. Pale. Fragile. Waiting.
"Kash, wait." She grabbed his wrist, her fingers tight around his tendons. "Stop."
He froze, his breath coming in heavy pants. His eyes, dark with desire, narrowed in frustration. "What now?"
She swallowed, the lump in her throat painful. She forced the words out, her voice barely a whisper. "I need an advance. Fifty thousand dollars."
The change was instant. The heat in his eyes vanished, replaced by a cold fury that made her flinch. He pulled back, staring at her like she was something filthy.
"Fifty thousand?" he repeated, his voice low and deadly. "Now? While we're in bed?"
"It's for Daisy," she pleaded, sitting up and clutching her shirt closed. "Her surgery."
"Don't," Kash snarled, cutting her off. He scrambled off the bed, putting distance between them as if she were contagious. "Don't feed me that bullshit."
"It's the truth!" Davina cried out, tears streaming down her face. "The hospital called this morning. She needs the money by three."
"I said shut up!" he roared. He paced the room, his hands clenching into fists. "You planned this. You waited until I was vulnerable to extort me."
"No, I didn't."
"You're worse than I thought." He stopped pacing, his chest heaving. He looked at her with pure disgust. "Using sex as a weapon. Using a sick kid as a prop. You make me sick."
He stalked over to the nightstand, yanking open a drawer. He pulled out his wallet, flipping it open.
He pulled out a sleek black credit card. He walked back to the bed and hurled it at her.
The card struck her cheek with a sharp sting before falling onto the blanket. The humiliation of the act was worse than any physical pain. She gasped, her hand flying to her face, feeling the heat of the welt rising on her skin.
"Take it," Kash said, his voice devoid of any emotion. "Take the money and get out."
Davina stared at him through a blur of tears. The man she had forced herself to touch, to kiss, was looking at her like she was a cockroach he wanted to crush.
"Kash, please listen to me."
"Get out!" he shouted, pointing at the door. "Before I call security and have you thrown out."
He turned his back on her, walking over to the window. He stared out at the city, his shoulders rigid.
Davina sat on the bed, her body numb. The card lay on the blanket, resting near her trembling fingers. She picked it up, her fingers closing around the hard plastic.
It was done. She had the money. Daisy would live.
But the cost was a piece of her soul.
She buttoned her shirt with shaking hands, grabbed her jacket, and ran. She didn't look back as she fled the apartment, the elevator ride down a blur of tears and pain.
Up in the apartment, Kash stood at the window, watching her tiny figure run out of the building and into the street. He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one, the smoke curling around his face.
"Fifty thousand," he muttered, his eyes cold. "Just the appetizer."
He pulled out his phone, his thumb moving swiftly across the screen as he set up real-time transaction alerts for the supplementary card. "I'll be watching every notification," he muttered, his eyes cold. "Every store, every penny. I'll know exactly where that money goes."
He pocketed the phone, a grim smile on his face. He thought he had her figured out. He thought he knew exactly what kind of woman she was.
He had no idea he had just destroyed the only chance he had at the truth.
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7.4
Four years ago, to protect the man I loved from losing his billionaire empire, I drugged his drink, told him I only used him for his money, and vanished.
Now, at a high-society gala, Callum Wyatt is back. He isn't just a CEO anymore; he's a ruthless predator, and the second his eyes lock onto me, I know I am his prey.
When my wealthy half-sister publicly humiliated me, calling me the cheap bastard child of a homewrecker, Callum stepped out of the shadows. He nearly snapped her wrist in half and declared to New York's elite that anyone who touched me would be dismantled.
In the back of his Maybach, he pinned my arms above my head, his eyes burning with psychotic obsession.
"If you run again, Aubrey, I will burn your entire world to the ground just to keep you."
My heart bled. I had spent four grueling years tearing myself apart to keep him out of my messy, blood-soaked revenge against the family that watched my mother die.
But his terrifying protection only made my biological father's family target me harder, using their massive capital to buy out my movie set and crush my acting career.
They thought I would cower.
But as I walked onto the soundstage, facing the heiress trying to steal my role, I took off my sunglasses. I wasn't running anymore; it was time to make them pay.
7.7
Eva Brooks, a 25-year-old woman, was set up by her best friend. Her fiancé broke up with her and demanded compensation for allegedly cheating on him.
Eva had a one-night stand with the richest CEO in Dominic City, Ethan Owen. He was arrogant and offered her a job as his secretary.
As his secretary, Ethan couldn't shake his fondness for Eva. He became obsessed with her, worrying that she was cheating on him.
He broke up with his fiancée to become engaged to Eva, but will his fiancée let him go? Will Eva accept a relationship with her boss?
7.6
When the Pollard family kicked Alyssa out into the freezing rain, Walter threw a ten-thousand-dollar check into a dirty puddle.
"Take it and get out. Don't ever come back," he sneered.
Her adoptive mother and stepsister stood on the mansion's porch, mocking her as a worthless country girl who tarnished their wealthy name. They laughed, claiming she wouldn't even be able to afford community college and would be begging on the streets in a week.
They looked at her cheap clothes and worn backpack with absolute disgust.
They were completely unaware that for the past five years, Alyssa was the secret mastermind who had built their failing gallery into a multi-million-dollar investment empire.
Every key investment, every fortune they made, came from the anonymous notes she had slipped into their unread books. They genuinely believed they were business geniuses, while treating the true architect of their wealth like a stray dog.
Looking at their smug, arrogant faces, Alyssa didn't feel a shred of sadness, only a cold, sharp irony.
They actually believed they had raised her.
She stepped close, whispered the master code to Walter's most secret offshore account, and watched the blood completely drain from his face.
"I raised you," she said, turning her back on the mansion without hesitation.
Walking into the storm, she pulled out a heavily encrypted phone and gave a single, cold order.
"Initiate a full hostile takeover of the Pollard Group."
It was time to end this little game and step into her true life—as the world's most elusive medical genius, and the long-lost billionaire heiress of the Summers dynasty.
8.9
I returned to New York for my welcome-home party, expecting a warm embrace from Edwin, my devoted fiancé of twenty years.
Instead, his first words to me were a cold, public warning to stay away from his new girlfriend, Kacy.
He stood in my family's hotel, shielding a girl I had never even met, and painted me as a vicious, jealous bully.
"She is very sensitive, Kaitlyn. Her background is tough. Please, be gentle with her. Don't upset her."
He humiliated me in front of our entire elite circle, allowing them to mock me as the aggressive, discarded ex while he carried her away like a fragile princess.
For twenty years, I had been his loyal shadow, fixing his mistakes and loving him unconditionally.
I couldn't understand how decades of deep devotion could be instantly erased by a few crocodile tears and a manipulative damsel act.
He was absolutely certain I would throw a tantrum, cry, and eventually crawl back to beg for his attention.
But he was wrong.
He didn't know that Everett Rowe, a billionaire tech mogul, had been patiently waiting five years to marry me.
He also didn't know that during my three years abroad, I wasn't just studying art—I became "K.B.", the ruthless Wall Street predator who could swallow his family's empire whole.
I calmly pulled out my phone, ignored the mocking whispers around me, and typed a single message to Everett.
"Yes. I'll marry you."
8.3
For three years, I hid my identity as a billionaire heiress to build a life with the man I loved. I gave up everything to support Ben's career, believing we were creating a future together from the ground up.
The day before our engagement, I overheard him with his boss, Haylie. He called me a "stepping stone," a poor, simple girl he was using to climb the corporate ladder and get closer to her.
He laughed about our "humble" life and mocked the silver ring on my finger, calling it a necessary prop. He was sleeping with her, taking credit for the multi-million dollar deal I secretly engineered, and saw my love as a naive distraction.
The man I sacrificed my entire world for saw me as less than nothing. My love didn't just die; it turned into ice-cold rage.
So I walked out of his life and straight into the arms of my family's biggest rival.
He offered me a deal I couldn't refuse.
"Marry me," Jaxson Banks said with a smirk. "And together, we'll burn their world to the ground."
9.4
Six years ago, Breanna was shoved into a pitch-black hotel suite by her own uncle.
She was forced to endure a brutal night with a drugged stranger just to keep her grandmother's ventilator running.
Nine months later, she gave birth in a cold underground clinic.
But her uncle immediately snatched the crying newborn from her trembling hands, coldly announcing the baby had died.
For six years, Breanna lived in agonizing grief, working as a lowly hotel cleaner just to survive.
But a cruel setup threw her directly into the path of Elliot Finch, the arrogant billionaire from that dark night.
He did not recognize the woman whose life he had completely ruined.
Instead, he looked at her like she was rotting garbage, had his guards drag her into a wet alley, and mercilessly got her fired.
"If I ever see your face again, I will make sure you cannot get a job cleaning toilets."
Breanna was suffocating from the injustice, stripped of her dignity and her family's only lifeline.
Yet, when she instinctively protected a traumatized little boy from bullies, she discovered he was Elliot's son.
The boy clung to her neck, crying and desperately begging his father to let her stay.
But Elliot just threw a massive check at her chest, violently accusing her of brainwashing a sick child for a meal ticket.
Looking at the toxic disgust in his eyes, something inside Breanna finally broke.
She picked up the check, ripped the millions into tiny shreds, and let them rain down on his expensive shoes.
"Keep your dirty money."
She turned her back on the crying boy and the stunned billionaire, deciding she would no longer be their victim.