Bound By Blood: His Unwanted Contract Bride
Four years ago, I was drugged on a luxury yacht and ended up pregnant with twins.
I raised them in secret, enduring my stepfamily's daily abuse, until the billionaire West family patriarch cornered us at the airport.
He instantly recognized my son's face—an exact replica of his ruthless grandson, Bernardo West.
My malicious stepmother and stepsister immediately leaked to the press that I was a delusional gold-digger using fake kids to trap a billionaire.
They wanted the West family to destroy me to save their own social standing.
Bernardo himself looked at me with pure disgust, demanding a DNA test.
"If you ever lie to me, I will take the children, and I will make you wish you were never born."
I didn't want his money. I was a victim of that night too, left with a crescent-shaped bite mark on my collarbone and zero memory of who set us up.
Why did someone drug us? And how could I protect my babies from a corporate predator who could crush me with a snap of his fingers?
But when the DNA test came back 99.9999% positive, I didn't cower.
I showed him the scar he left on me, looked the most dangerous man in the country right in the eye, and made my demand.
"If you want to claim your heirs, you have to marry me."
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Chapter 4
The black SUVs rolled down the driveway, leaving thick tire tracks in the gravel. The sound of the engines faded, replaced by the distant crash of the Pacific Ocean.
Inside the house, Britteny was screaming.
"You let her talk to him?!" she shrieked at the maid. "You let that trash near Thurston West?!"
Darleen didn't stay to listen. She walked out the back door, the cool morning air hitting her face. Her hands were shaking. She shoved them into her pockets and walked toward the edge of the garden, where the grass met the cliff.
She took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart.
Footsteps crunched on the gravel behind her. She turned her head. Jimmy Lynch was walking toward her, holding two steaming mugs of coffee.
He handed her one without a word. He leaned his back against the wooden railing, looking out at the ocean. His face was serious, the usual easygoing smile gone.
"Is it true?" Jimmy asked, his voice quiet but intense. "Are you really getting involved with Bernardo West?"
Darleen wrapped her hands around the warm mug. The heat bit into her palms, grounding her.
"I'm going to the island tomorrow," she said.
Jimmy moved so fast she barely saw it. He grabbed her shoulder, his fingers digging into her flesh through her thin jacket. He turned her to face him, his eyes wide with panic.
"Are you insane?" he hissed. "Bernardo West isn't a man, Darleen. He's a shark. He's a predator. He doesn't just beat his competitors, he destroys their families. He ruins lives."
"He ruined mine four years ago," Darleen said, her voice flat.
Jimmy shook his head, his grip tightening. "You don't get it. If he wants those kids, he will take them. He has the best lawyers in the country. He will bury you in court. You'll never see them again."
Darleen looked up at him. The fear in her eyes was gone, replaced by a fierce, unyielding determination.
"If he is their father," she said slowly, "do I have a choice? Do I just hand them over to him? Do I let him erase me from their lives?"
Jimmy stared at her, unable to answer.
"I have to marry him," Darleen said. "It's the only way I stay in the picture. It's the only way I keep my kids."
Jimmy let out a bitter laugh. "Bernardo West doesn't marry for kids. He doesn't marry for love. He doesn't marry at all."
"Then I'll make him," Darleen said, her jaw set. "Marriage is a contract. It's an exchange of assets. I have something he wants. I just have to make the price high enough."
Jimmy looked at her like he was seeing her for the first time. The quiet, broken girl he had known was gone. In her place stood a woman with edges like broken glass.
He sighed, letting go of her shoulder. "If he hurts you," Jimmy said softly, "I don't care how powerful he is. I will get you out. I promise."
Darleen felt a lump in her throat. She nodded. "Thank you, Jimmy. But I can handle it."
"You can't handle Meredith," Jimmy warned, glancing back at the house. "She's losing her mind in there. She won't let you rise up without a fight."
Darleen followed his gaze. Through the glass of the patio door, a shadow moved. Meredith Reynolds stood in the dim light, her face a mask of cold fury. Her hand was crushing a playing card, her knuckles white.
Meredith turned and walked away from the window.
"She can try," Darleen said.
Later that night, Darleen stood in the small bedroom, packing a single duffel bag. She didn't pack fancy clothes. She didn't pack makeup. She reached into the bottom drawer of the nightstand and pulled out a small, black flash drive.
She slipped it into the hidden pocket of her bag. It was her insurance policy.
A soft knock came at the door. Aria padded in, dragging her stuffed rabbit by the ear.
"Mommy," Aria mumbled, rubbing her eyes. "Will the stinky king be there tomorrow?"
Darleen scooped her up, burying her face in her daughter's hair. The little girl smelled like strawberries and sleep.
"Yes, baby," Darleen whispered. "You'll see him."
Julian appeared in the doorway. He was cleaning his glasses on his shirt, a habit he had when he was nervous.
"I don't like him," Julian said, his voice quiet. "He makes you smell like fear."
Darleen looked at her son. She put Aria down and walked over to Julian, kneeling in front of him.
"I won't let him hurt us," she said. "I promise."
Julian nodded, but his eyes remained cold.
Darleen's phone buzzed on the bed. She picked it up. A text from an unknown number. A flight itinerary. Private jet. Van Nuys airport. 6:00 AM.
She typed back a single word: Confirmed.
She opened her photo app. She scrolled past the pictures of the kids, past the screenshots of documents, until she found the one she was looking for.
It was a blurry photo of a boarding pass. The Leviathan. Four years ago.
She stared at the screen, her thumb tracing the name of the ship.
"It's time to pay up, Bernardo West," she said to the empty room.
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9.3
Alyssa Gregory slept with Benton Steele, a recently disgraced and bankrupt heir, just to humiliate him.
She threw a massive check at his bare chest, treating the former prince of Wall Street like a cheap escort.
But Benton didn't take the charity.
Instead, he manipulated her anger, tricking her into signing an ironclad contract that surrendered absolute control of her entire trust fund to him.
When her abusive mother found out she had funded a penniless outcast, she slapped Alyssa across the face.
Her mother froze all her bank accounts, locked her inside her bedroom, and arranged to sell her off to a degenerate politician.
Desperate to escape, Alyssa climbed down her balcony, falling fifteen feet and shattering her ankle on the stones below.
Stripped of her money and freedom, she dragged her broken body to a VIP club just to publicly declare that Benton belonged to her.
She thought she was the boss, playing a rebellious game with a broken man.
But when Benton effortlessly carried her away from the club and locked her inside his rundown apartment, the terrifying calculation in his dark eyes shattered her illusion.
How could a man stripped of his entire empire still radiate such suffocating, violent power?
"You bought me," Benton whispered, his massive frame trapping her against the sofa. "That means I have to take care of you."
Physically trapped and completely broke, Alyssa stared into his consuming eyes, her mind racing to find a way to turn the tables.
7.4
I was a broke clinic doctor drowning in debt, so I took a confidential job to evaluate a billionaire heir's fertility.
I marched into the VIP ICU, pinned the struggling patient down, and injected a sedative. I finished the extraction and loudly declared to the family lawyer that the Holt heir was completely sterile.
But then, a chilling laugh echoed from the doorway.
The real heir, Jarrod Holt, the tyrant of Wall Street, stepped in. I had just sterilized his younger brother right in front of him.
Facing a decade in federal prison, I was completely at his mercy. To make things worse, my arrogant ex-boyfriend tried to publicly humiliate me, and my greedy uncle threatened to burn my dead mother's belongings for ransom. I was pushed to the absolute brink of ruin.
But instead of destroying me, Jarrod offered a terrifying lifeline. He bought out a Manhattan high-rise in five minutes just to ruin my ex, then handed me a marriage contract.
I was terrified and deeply confused. Why would this ruthless billionaire force a nobody into a fake marriage? He knew details about my past that no one should know. Did he discover my hidden identity as 'E', the underground surgeon the entire medical world was hunting for?
With my back against the wall, I signed the prenuptial agreement.
"I do," I whispered at City Hall.
He shoved his heavy, antique family ring onto my finger. It was supposed to be strictly business with absolutely no physical contact, but when his lips crashed violently onto mine, I knew I had just sold my soul to the devil.
7.1
I was the top commander of a black-ops military program. After slaughtering my way through a hellish mission, I reached the extraction helicopter, trusting my second-in-command to watch my back.
But the moment our hands locked, he didn't pull me up. Instead, he plunged a syringe of lethal neurotoxin directly into my neck.
He aimed his gun at my chest, coldly stating that I was too dangerous to live. My lungs stopped, and I died in a pool of my own blood. But the endless blackness suddenly shattered. My consciousness violently forced its way into a new, broken shell. I woke up in a freezing alley, soaked in muddy rain.
This body belonged to seventeen-year-old Eliza Wyatt. A massive wave of foreign memories crashed into my brain. Her own younger sister had just stood at the top of the stairs with a mocking smile, watching street thugs beat Eliza to death.
"Take good care of the Wyatt family's eldest daughter. Tonight is the night she finally disappears."
The endless humiliation, the cold stares of her family, and the brutal betrayal by her own blood flashed before my eyes. Why was this fragile girl treated like garbage and pushed to her death by the very people who should have protected her?
I looked down at my pale, trembling hands. The top commander was dead, but in this bleeding shell, Eliza Wyatt was very much alive. I picked up a switchblade from the bloody puddle and stood up in the storm. It was time to hunt.
9.2
Nica caught her boyfriend, Chris, and her best friend, Ella, in a shocking betrayal. Chris was kissing Ella while caressing her close, and Ella only smirked at Nica as if she had won. Nica got pissed off and swore she would not let their betrayal go unpunished. What happens next? Read the story and find out for yourself.
7.5
I am the biological daughter of the wealthy Fitzpatrick family, but I spent my childhood eating out of dumpsters.
When I was finally brought back to the estate at age seven, I thought I would experience my parents' love.
Instead, my biological parents looked at my dirty clothes with raw disgust. They only cared about Hallie, the fake daughter who lived like a princess.
The moment I walked in, Hallie hurled a heavy ceramic cup at my head, slicing my hand open.
"Get out of my house!"
My father didn't even look at the blood. He raised his hand to strike me, accusing me of bringing trailer park rules into his home.
In my past life, I dropped to my knees and begged for their forgiveness. I endured their abuse, hoping they would eventually love me.
But they let the maids humiliate me, let Hallie steal my identity, and eventually threw me back onto the streets to die. Even my playboy Uncle Byron, the only person who ever showed me mercy, was driven to suicide by them.
I didn't understand why my own flesh and blood hated me so much, or why a vicious liar deserved everything while I was treated like a jinx.
Opening my eyes again, I was back on the exact day I first returned to the estate.
As my father raised his hand to hit me, I didn't cower.
Instead, I looked at the family patriarch and pointed directly at my notorious, alcoholic uncle.
"I want him to be my new guardian."
9.5
Eda Roman clutched her father's diagnostic report, its sharp edge cutting her finger. His cancer had mutated, standard treatment failed, and a fifty thousand dollar deposit for experimental therapy was due by midnight. Fail to pay, and his hospital bed would be cleared.
Wife to Axel Foley, a multi-billion dollar CEO, Eda faced an impossible chasm. Her family trust, controlled by Keri Lane, offered a meager three hundred dollars.
An emergency fund request met a forty-eight-hour review—a death sentence. Keri's assistant denied expedite and blocked calls. Desperate, Eda called Axel, but his assistant dismissed her with lies, Axel's laughter echoing.
Humiliation and betrayal ignited cold fury. Wife to Seattle's wealthiest, yet begging on a hospital floor? Axel's indifference and Keri's games showed her: her father's life couldn't be left in their hands.
Wiping tears, the pleading girl vanished; her survival instinct roared. Red lipstick her war paint, Eda Roman marched to Foley Group Headquarters, ready to reclaim what was hers.