Bound By Blood: The Billionaire's Contract
I woke up gasping for air, expecting the cold concrete of a prison cell, but my fingers sank into the plush leather of a luxury Lincoln. I was twenty-four again, wearing the silver silk dress from the night my life was systematically destroyed.
Beside me sat my cousin Catrina, the woman whose carefully crafted lies had orchestrated my ruin and sent me to a penitentiary for five years.
In my first life, this was the night the dominoes fell. Catrina stole my jewelry to paint me as mentally unstable, and by morning, I was stripped of my medical license and labeled a criminal. My mother’s family, the Montgomerys, stood by and watched as my father’s company was devoured by wolves, treating my existence like a "liability" that needed to be managed. I still felt the phantom tremors in my hands from prison fights and the stinging betrayal of being discarded by the people I called family.
I had lived through five years of absolute hell, a former surgeon rotting in a cell while the people who framed me toasted to their success at galas I was no longer invited to.
"Don't be selfish, Dawn," Catrina whispered, reaching for the necklace that would later be used as evidence against me. "Let the jewelry shine on someone who actually matters."
She thought I was still the fragile victim she could manipulate, but she didn't realize I had returned from the grave with the cold, clinical calculation of a fixer.
Instead of walking into her trap at the gala, I forced the car onto a dark service road and dragged a dying billionaire, Jennings Stafford, from the wreckage of a burning SUV.
He was the only man powerful enough to destroy my enemies, and as I stitched his wounds with stolen supplies, I didn't ask for a thank you.
I looked him dead in the eye and proposed a contract that would set the world on fire.
"I want a strategic marriage. You get a harmless wife with a legacy name to calm your board, and I get immunity from everyone who ever touched me."
The bill for my five years in prison had finally come due, and I was here to collect.
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Chapter 9
The day passed in a blur of tension. Dawn changed his dressings. She fed him soup. She fielded text messages from Catrina, who was demanding to know when "the hobo" was leaving.
Jennings spent the time on the burner phone, orchestrating a silent war from the guest bedroom. He was ruthless. Even in a hospital gown, with his leg elevated, he radiated power.
By evening, the fever had spiked. Infection.
Dawn was prepared. She had stolen antibiotics from the stable's vet supply. It wasn't human grade, but it was Amoxicillin. It would work.
She injected it into his IV line.
"You're enjoying this," he murmured, his eyes hazy with fever.
"Stabbing you with needles? A little," she admitted.
He reached out and grabbed her wrist. His skin was burning hot.
"Why me?" he asked. "Why did you save me?"
"I told you-"
"No bullshit," he cut her off. "The truth."
Dawn looked down at him. She could tell him the truth. That she'd spent two years mapping his vulnerabilities, his enemies, his assets. That he was the only one with the power to counter Dozier Buckley.
"Because you're the only one who can stop Dozier Buckley," she said.
His grip tightened. "Buckley? What does he have to do with this?"
"He's shorting your stock," she said. "He knows you're missing. He's spreading rumors that you're dead. By Monday morning, Stafford Capital will be in freefall. And he's going to buy it for pennies on the dollar."
Jennings stared at her. The fever seemed to recede for a moment, pushed back by pure rage.
"How do you know that?"
"I listen," she said. "People think I'm invisible. They say things around me."
He let go of her wrist. He lay back, staring at the ceiling.
"If he buys the company," Jennings said quietly, "he gets the patents. The new drug."
"The Alzheimer's drug," Dawn said. "Yes."
He looked at her sharply. "That's confidential. No one knows about that."
"I know," she said. "And I know it works. And I know Dozier will bury it because it's more profitable to treat the symptoms than cure the disease."
Jennings was silent for a long time.
"You're dangerous," he said finally.
"I'm necessary," she corrected.
She stood up to leave.
"Dawn," he called out.
She stopped at the door.
"Thank you."
It sounded like it hurt him to say it.
"Don't thank me yet," she said. "The bill is coming."
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8.5
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7.4
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7.3
Love and hatred are two sides of the same coin but at the end of the battle it is always LOVE that wins. Yet when there is faint peek of revenge added, would there still be a victory of passion in the tussle?
Augustus Martin - a billionaire heartthrob, cold hearted business tycoon, CEO of Sunrise Industries
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7.1
Warning: R18+
His pierced cock thrust deep, the metal barbell dragging along my G-spot with every relentless stroke, sending shockwaves that made me scream his name. I came again hard, squirting around him while he growled "mine" and filled me bare, hot pulses claiming every inch inside me.
Thirty minutes earlier I'd been drowning in heartbreak and gin at a Mayfair club.
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One forbidden night.
No names. No promises.
Or so I thought.
One reckless night with a stranger ignites a billionaire's obsession.
Elara thought it was over at dawn.
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One forbidden night becomes a lifetime of possession...
8.5
Aileen transmigrated into a dark, unfinished novel as the villainous, abusive wife of a powerful billionaire.
The moment she opened her eyes, her husband's calloused hand was crushing her throat, and her six-year-old stepson was pointing a box cutter at her face, screaming for her to die.
A cold system voice suddenly exploded in her brain, forcing a mandatory mission: save the villainous father and son, or face immediate death.
To survive the system's strict Out-Of-Character warnings, Aileen had to keep playing the role of the deranged, hateful wife.
She was despised by everyone. Her husband threatened to drag her to an asylum, and her terrified stepson scrubbed the floor with his own pajamas just to avoid her wrath.
Things escalated when the novel's original female lead publicly framed Aileen in Central Park, throwing herself onto the grass and clutching her pregnant belly.
"She pushed me. She tried to hurt the baby!"
Archer rushed over, shoved Aileen aside with absolute disgust, and looked at her with the eyes of a murderer.
Aileen felt a bitter wave of exhaustion. She had discovered the original owner's hidden antipsychotic pills; the woman wasn't just evil, she was severely mentally ill and completely broken by this loveless marriage.
Yet, no one cared, and her husband would always choose to believe his childhood sweetheart's fake tears.
Since everyone in this world was convinced she was an unpredictable lunatic, she decided to give them exactly what they expected.
Aileen turned her back on the ridiculous scene, a cold smile forming on her lips.
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