Bound By The Cruel Billionaire's Deal
With only fifteen days of cash flow left to save her tech startup, Aida had no choice but to seek a five-million-dollar bridge loan from Brendan Walls, a ruthless billionaire predator.
He agreed to sign the check, but on one sickening condition. He demanded Aida act as bait to get close to his corporate rival, Grayson Lott, treating her like a high-end call girl for a business transaction.
Forced to comply to save her employees, Aida let Grayson take her to a windowless underground club, where he secretly spiked her whiskey.
As the drugs paralyzed her body, triggering horrific flashbacks of a brutal assault from six years ago, Aida locked herself in the bathroom. She had to shatter a mirror and slice her own thigh open with a jagged shard of glass just to stay conscious enough to call Brendan for help.
Brendan's armored SUV immediately smashed through the club's wall to save her, and Grayson was arrested. But lying in the hospital, the horrifying truth finally clicked in Aida's mind.
The rescue was too fast. Brendan’s men hadn't rushed from Midtown; they had been parked outside the entire time. He had watched Grayson drug her and waited for the felony to happen just so he could legally seize Grayson's company. He had gambled her life and trauma for a hostile takeover.
When Brendan casually tossed a signed contract and luxury car keys onto her hospital bed as hush money, the last thread of Aida's sanity snapped.
"The deal is dead. NovaTech is mine. If you ever come near me again, I will kill you."
Bleeding and shaking with icy rage, Aida threw the keys at his chest, formally declaring war on the monster who thought he could buy her soul.
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Chapter 8
Aida woke up to the smell of bleach. A sharp, tearing pain ripped through her inner thigh the moment she shifted her weight on the mattress.
She gasped, her eyes flying open. She stared wildly at the white acoustic tiles on the ceiling, her chest heaving as she tried to suck air into her panicked lungs.
Chloe, who had been asleep with her head resting on the edge of the bed, jerked awake. She immediately reached out and grabbed Aida's hand, squeezing it tight.
"You're okay, you're safe," Chloe said quickly, her eyes red and swollen from crying. "The police took Grayson. He's locked up."
Aida stared blankly at the ceiling for a long moment, letting her racing heart slow down. She swallowed dryly. "Who... who got me out?"
"Brendan Walls's security team," Chloe said, her voice full of awe. "Aida, they drove a literal armored SUV straight through the brick and glass wall of the club. They didn't even use the door."
Aida frowned. The memory of that massive, explosive crash right before she passed out flashed in her mind.
She turned her head to look at Chloe. "How long did it take? From the moment I hung up with you, to the moment the police arrived?"
Chloe thought for a second. "NYPD was fast. Maybe ten minutes."
"And when did Brendan's people get there?" Aida asked, her voice dropping to a whisper.
Chloe looked confused. "When the cops walked in, Brendan's guys had already beaten Grayson half to death. The bartender told the police that the SUV crashed through the wall barely five minutes after you locked yourself in the bathroom."
Aida's heart stopped. The monitor next to her bed gave a sharp, erratic beep.
Her brain, trained to analyze data and find flaws in logic, began to spin. The underground club was in the Meatpacking District, deep in Lower Manhattan. Brendan's penthouse was on Central Park South.
It was a physical impossibility. Even with no traffic, a massive armored vehicle could not cover that distance in five minutes.
There was only one logical explanation. Brendan's security team hadn't driven from Midtown. They had been sitting in an SUV, parked directly outside the club, waiting.
Aida's breathing turned shallow. She thought back to the gala. Brendan demanding she use herself as bait. The Maybach being perfectly boxed in on an empty street. The five-million-dollar contract handed over so easily.
The puzzle pieces snapped together with horrifying clarity.
She hadn't been rescued. She had been the bait in a trap Brendan had set for Grayson. He had watched her walk into the club with a known predator, and he had sat outside, waiting for Grayson to commit a felony so he could destroy him.
A wave of absolute, freezing cold washed over her body. The betrayal felt like a physical knife twisting in her gut.
Aida looked down at her left hand. A clear plastic IV tube was taped to the back of her hand, feeding fluids into her vein.
She reached over with her right hand, grabbed the plastic hub of the needle, and violently ripped it out of her flesh.
A thick drop of dark red blood instantly welled up on her skin and dripped onto the white bedsheets.
"Aida! What are you doing? Are you crazy?" Chloe shrieked, lunging forward to press a tissue over the bleeding hole.
Aida's face was as pale as a corpse, but her eyes were burning with a terrifying, icy rage. "I'm not crazy," she whispered. "I'm just a fucking idiot."
Heavy, measured footsteps sounded in the hallway outside.
The door handle turned. Brendan Walls walked into the room. He was wearing a black dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, the fabric slightly wrinkled.
His dark eyes immediately locked onto the blood dripping from Aida's hand. His thick eyebrows slammed together in a furious scowl.
He took three long strides across the room, glaring down at Chloe. "Why the hell haven't you pressed the call button for a nurse?" he snapped.
Aida yanked her hand away from Chloe. She hid her bleeding hand under the blanket.
She slowly lifted her chin and stared up at Brendan. She didn't look at him like he was her savior. She looked at him like he was a monster.
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8.6
"What do you think people would say if they found out you don't have a dick?" Christian asked, his voice low and dripping with seduction. His hand pressed firmly against my crotch, fingers exploring the flat, unfamiliar emptiness there. A devilish smirk curved his lips. "Or if they discovered these voluptuous breasts you've been hiding so well?"
A strangled moan slipped from my throat as his hand slid under my shirt, his fingers brushing over my hardened nipples, teasing them with slow, deliberate strokes.
"Which do you think they'd call you?" he murmured, eyes gleaming. "A boy with tits... or a dickless little fraud?"
I stared into his hungry blue eyes, words failing me.
"The term you're looking for is 'girl,'" came Xavier's smooth voice from the bathroom doorway. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click, his gaze raking over me with open interest. "So tell me, little girl... what the hell is someone like you doing in an all-boys dorm?"
Christian's smirk widened. "She wants to be devoured by boys like us." His fingers gave my nipple one last firm pinch before he leaned in closer, breath hot against my ear. "And I'll be more than happy to give her a taste."
9.1
Cora crash-landed her escape pod on a brutal alien planet, only to be immediately hunted by a massive six-eyed beast.
A colossal black wolf dropped from the canopy and crushed the beast's neck to save her. But before she could even breathe, the wolf transformed into a towering, naked primitive man with glowing gold eyes.
He hauled her back to his savage tribe, where she was instantly treated like garbage. The women sneered at her fragile human body, and the men eyed her like fresh meat.
The tribe leader's jealous daughter even handed her a waterskin laced with a terrifying alien breeding drug, hoping to turn Cora into a mindless spectacle of lust in front of the entire settlement.
"Drink. You look like you're dying," the daughter sneered, waiting for Cora to lose her mind.
Cora was terrified and completely out of her depth. She didn't understand why this lethal Alpha warrior looked at her with such dark, consuming possessiveness, or why he was willing to slaughter his own people just to protect her.
How was a stranded human supposed to survive in a terrifying world where every plant, beast, and local wanted her dead?
"BEEP! Critical Warning! Liquid contains high concentrations of alien aphrodisiac herbs," her implanted AI assistant suddenly echoed in her skull.
Looking at the hostile tribe and the fiercely protective Alpha shielding her, Cora silently activated her tech interface. She wasn't just going to be a helpless pet in this savage world.
9.5
The first clue my life was a lie was a moan from the guest room. My husband of seven years wasn't in our bed. He was with my intern.
I discovered my husband, Brendan, was having a four-year affair with Kiya-the talented girl I was mentoring and personally paying tuition for.
The next morning, she sat at our breakfast table in his shirt while he made us pancakes. He lied to my face, promising he'd never love another, just before I learned she was pregnant with his child-a child he'd always refused to have with me.
The two people I trusted most in the world had conspired to destroy me. The pain wasn't something I could live with; it was an annihilation of my entire world.
So I made a call to a neuroscientist about his experimental, irreversible procedure. I didn't want revenge. I wanted to erase every memory of my husband and become his first test subject.
8.7
For seven years, I was Alpha Zane’s Chosen Mate, suppressing my warrior instincts to be the docile, supportive partner he demanded.
On our seventh anniversary, while I waited by a candlelit table, I accidentally overheard his mind-link with another woman.
"Seven years is a habit, my dear, not love. She's docile, she'll understand."
He told Seraphina, his new political ally, laughing as he dismissed my entire existence.
I didn't scream or cry. I scraped the anniversary cake into the trash, drafted a formal rejection letter, and walked out of the packhouse.
But Zane didn't even notice my departure. He was so consumed by his new lover that my rejection letter was treated as garbage and tossed into the incinerator.
He paraded Seraphina around the pack, even handing my hard-earned strategic command over to her—a woman who knew absolutely nothing about war.
When my loyal subordinates protested, he violently suppressed them, declaring my absence a "childish tantrum" and framing me as the bitter obstacle to his destined romance.
He honestly thought I was just hiding in my room, waiting to beg for his charity and accept a humiliating demotion.
He had no idea that I had already crossed the border into enemy territory.
Tonight, I am attending his grand celebration.
Not as the heartbroken mate he discarded, but as the newly appointed Gamma of his deadliest rival, the Sterling Pack.
9.3
A pitiful wolfless Omega, Lana discovers that she is pregnant for her beloved fiancée and Alpha to be, Asher. He is the only man she has ever loved, but her world turns upside down when her Fiancée coldly reveals that he is getting married to her sister who is also already pregnant for him.
To make matters worse, her cruel sister and cheating Fiancé banish her from her only home!
Lana is devastated, but thankfully, her best friend Jasper, helps her runaway and hide her pregnancy from her former fiancée.
8 years later, Lana has become the mother to Asher's triplets and is engaged to be married to her best friend Jasper.
But by a cruel twist of fate, Alpha Asher suddenly changes his mind and kidnaps her!
So what is Lana supposed to do when she forced to choose between two powerful men, while also fighting off the traitors and enemies surrounding her?
8.1
I died on an apocalyptic battlefield, only to wake up pinned down by a lead-lined blanket of my own fat.
A violent download of memories hit me. I had transmigrated into the body of an exiled, sadistic noblewoman who was three million coins in debt.
The original owner was an absolute monster. She had purchased beastman guards just to torture them for fun. In the corner of the filthy room, a golden retriever boy cowered, his back shredded by her barbed whip. In the basement, a snake guard was frozen and scarred from constant electro-shocks. When the white tiger guard returned from hard labor, he looked at me with pure, murderous hatred, ready to tear me apart to protect the others. Even the local elites kicked down my door to mock my pathetic life and try to steal my men.
I was a decorated commander who bled for humanity. Why was I trapped in this ruined vessel, bearing the sins of a degenerate abuser?
It was all a setup by her sweet-faced cousin, Debera, who stole her royal life and sent her to this outer-rim hellhole to rot.
I gritted my teeth and plunged a military-grade gene repair serum into my arm, letting the agony burn away the black filth and weakness.
"The crazy woman you knew before is dead."
I tossed a medical kit to the trembling guards, loaded my old electromagnetic pistol, and headed for the deadly Demon Hunting Zone to start my revenge.