Bound To A Scarred Billionaire: Can Love Bloom From Ashes?
Carolina Navarro was married off to Maximo Castillo, a man ruined by a plane crash that left his face scarred and his heart sealed shut.
Once charismatic and destined for everything, Maximo lost far more than his looks; he lost trust, tenderness, and the life he thought was his. Now he wanted only a wife and an heir.
Carolina gave him vows under pressure, never expecting anything more than a loveless arrangement. But as their bitterness collided and their loneliness deepened, one question refused to fade.
Could something real rise from the wreckage they both carried?
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Chapter 8
Still without clothes, he carried her straight into the bathroom, holding her with ease. "I've already seen more than just your chest, Carolina."
"Aren't you planning to shower too? You seemed pretty interested not that long ago."
"Oh... but... You're unbelievable."
Color rushed to her face, and the reaction entertained him more than it should have. Before everything changed, his humor had been lighter, easier. He used to joke without restraint, except when work was involved.
For a brief moment, he forgot what people called him. A quiet laugh slipped out as he looked at her. Carefully, he lowered her into the bathtub, where the water had already been prepared at the right temperature.
While she worked shampoo through her hair, he pushed up one sleeve and began washing her back.
"You're really not going to shower?" she asked, unaware of what held him back. If he kept the mask on, there was no chance he would undress in front of her.
"I'll do it later." Normally, he would have taken offense at a question like that and answered sharply, but this time he noticed there was no ill intent behind her words.
Once she finished, he lifted her again and brought her back to the bedroom. He dried her hair with care, then moved toward the door.
"Where are you going?" she asked.
"I'll get you something to sleep in." A faint hint of mischief showed on the side of his face that remained untouched. "Unless you'd rather go without anything."
The thought crossed her mind to say they probably wouldn't be sleeping at all, but she held it back. Instead, she only shook her head. Máximo noticed, and although disappointment flickered through him, he said nothing. He turned away and left to do what he had said.
When he entered her room, his attention went straight to the wardrobe. It stood open, but there was nothing inside. A quick glance at the dresser brought the same result.
"What?" he muttered. His gaze shifted to the corner, where her suitcases rested. "That can't be right..."
He didn't bother opening them at first. The moment he nudged them, he could tell everything was still packed inside. Nothing had been taken out. It looked like she was ready to leave at any time.
His jaw tightened, but he forced himself to breathe through it. She had only just arrived. It made sense she hadn't unpacked yet. There was no reason to get angry over something like that.
He lifted one of the suitcases onto the bed and opened it. Inside, her things were neatly arranged. His hand paused when he reached her underwear. Without hesitation, he picked a few pieces up, studying them.
He pictured how they would look on her, and the thought lingered longer than it should have. What caught his attention was the contrast. Some were simple, like the ones she had been wearing earlier. Others were smaller, more delicate, with lace and sheer fabric.
"Did she bring these for me?" He pondered, a faint crease forming between his brows.
Doubt followed right after. She already knew what he looked like. That thought didn't sit well with him. Another possibility crossed his mind, one he didn't like at all. Maybe they weren't meant for him.
He continued searching and pulled out a nightgown. As he lifted it, something small slipped into view. He picked it up and quickly recognized what it was.
Back in the bedroom, Carolina lay on the bed, her eyes fixed on the ceiling as she waited.
The door opened, and he stepped inside. Without a word, he placed the folded clothes on the bed, switched off the light, and walked straight into the bathroom.
His silence caught her attention, but she let it pass. She had already decided he was unpredictable. If he was upset, it could have been over something she didn't even notice.
When the sound of running water finally stopped, she knew he would be out soon.
By then, she had already changed into the nightgown Nadia had left for her. The fabric felt light against her skin, and the small piece she wore underneath made her sigh under her breath.
The bathroom door clicked open, but she kept her back to him, wrapped beneath the covers. Darkness filled the room again, just like before. The scent from his shower drifted through the air and reached her, and she found herself drawn to it.
The mattress dipped as he climbed onto the bed. A moment later, his hand settled at her waist and pulled her closer.
"Don't touch me," he said in a low voice.
She understood right away. He didn't want her hands wandering where his scars were.
"Alright," she answered.
His lips brushed along her neck, then lingered near her ear. Without thinking, she shifted back against him, and the reaction drew a faint smile from him.
"You really like this, don't you?" His question caught her off guard, and her eyes widened at once. Was he really going to speak to her like that?
"I am your slut..." she managed between uneven breaths. "I'm yours."
Without another word, he moved beneath the covers, pressing himself against her back. The heat from his body spread into her, making her feel like she was burning from the inside.
Her clothing shifted out of place, and she instinctively tried to remove it, but he stopped her before she could. A faint mechanical sound reached her ears, and she frowned, confused for a second. The thought vanished the moment a sudden sensation made her gasp.
"Oh!"
"You like that, don't you?" he murmured near her ear. Her response came in soft, broken sounds as she struggled to steady herself. "So responsive..."
When he finally moved forward, the feeling made her tense for a brief second before she gave in to it. The sensation spread through her, and she couldn't hold back the reaction.
His movements didn't slow. There was no hesitation in the way he handled her, shifting her position and guiding her without pause.
"Má... oh— Don't stop..."
The intensity built repeatedly, each wave hitting harder than the last. She lost track of time, of everything around her, as the feeling took over.
At some point, her body trembled under him, and the reaction seemed to pull him deeper into it as well.
When it was over, he leaned over her, his arms wrapping around her as his breathing tried to steady.
"That was... a lot," Carolina said softly. Though she couldn't see his face, he gave a small nod while catching his breath.
"You've got quite the spark," he remarked, and a laugh slipped from her.
"I didn't even know that myself."
He drew her closer, keeping her within his arms.
"Still, I had no idea you were into using things like that."
"What are you talking about?" she asked, confused at first. Then it clicked. "Oh... you mean that thing you used?" A faint amusement colored his tone.
"I know you enjoy what I can offer," he replied. "And you don't need permission for that. But I'm talking about this."
He took her hand and placed the small object in her palm. It was light, unfamiliar, and she turned it slightly, trying to understand it.
"But... what is it?"
"It's yours. A vibrator."
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9.2
"Isabella this is the right time for you to choose between me or Hector, because any one you choose now will be your husband till the contract end."
"Think well Isabella don't make mistake."
She spilled coffee on the wrong man.
Isabella Ramirez is drowning in debt, exhaustion, and fear-working double shifts to keep her dying mother alive. One mistake in a crowded café brings her face-to-face with Alejandro De La Vega, a billionaire feared for his cold heart and ruthless power.
His punishment is cruel.
His offer is worse.
One year as his wife in exchange for her family's freedom.
But inside his mansion, Isabella learns that marriage without love is a cage. Betrayal hides behind charming smiles.
A former wife returns with secrets. A cousin watches from the shadows. And the contract that binds her may destroy her heart.
When lies explode and power turns brutal, Isabella must choose between survival and love-before she loses herself completely.
Tropes
Contract Marriage
Poor Girl × Billionaire CEO
Forced Proximity
Inheritance Deadline
Emotional Abuse & Redemption
Love vs Power
Public Scandal
Love Triangle
One True Love
8.0
I spent two years as the perfect, dutiful wife to Foster Baird. I was his unpaid PR consultant and his emotional punching bag, enduring his mother’s snide comments about my orphan background all for the sake of a "marriage" I thought was real.
But when I went to the City Clerk’s office to replace a damaged document, the clerk looked at me with genuine pity.
"There is no record of a marriage license for you and Foster Baird. Legally? You aren't married."
The betrayal went even deeper. I returned to our penthouse to find Foster’s mistress on our sofa, alongside a five-year-old boy who shared Foster’s exact features. Foster hadn't just cheated; he had a secret family that predated our entire relationship. He had even bribed a doctor to lie to me about being infertile just to keep me docile and focused on his business. When the mistress moved into my guest wing the next day, Foster demanded I act as their hostess and serve them dinner.
I watched them play happy family in the home I built, realizing I was never a wife—I was just "cheap labor" he intended to discard once his company stock stabilized. He thought I was a barren charity case with nowhere to go.
He was wrong. That same afternoon, I received a call from the executor of the Arthur Kensington estate. I wasn't a nobody; I was the long-lost biological daughter and sole heir to a five-billion-dollar fortune.
While Foster was busy planning my replacement, I was accessing the Kensington Trust. I didn't scream, and I didn't cry. I simply bought a fifty-million-dollar mansion and hired a team of forensic accountants to dismantle the Baird Group from the inside out. I crushed my old phone under my designer heel and looked at my new security detail.
"Let's get to work," I said.
8.5
A brutal fire had Brenna's mother abandon her.
When the family finally "reunited" with her, she was a scarred outcast mucking stalls and tending horses in the countryside.
They tore into her icily. "We only brought you back to marry in your sister's place. Don't you dare bring disgrace on us!"
Disgusted, Brenna cut them off.
Then the truth surfaced-a famed jeweler called her mentor, a top hospital director named her heir, an elite hacker circle bowed to her, and her scars faded into stunning beauty.
Regrets came too late. She was already in a tycoon's arms.
Vincent, a power player straddling both business and illegal worlds, had a secret: he was colorblind.
That was until Brenna unexpectedly burst into his life, bringing colors back into his world.
At first, he never thought he could fall for this seemingly unattractive woman, yet as time passed, his heart surrendered...
8.0
Billionaires Collerction...
In this collection of high-stakes passion, the elite meet their match. Whether it's an unexpected fire that ignites in a boardroom or a slow-burn obsession that begins in the shadows, these men are about to discover that the heart follows no contract. Those who enter their orbit find themselves caught in a whirlwind of luxury and leverage, where every touch is a negotiation and every kiss is a risk.
8.7
I was trapped in a greasy diner by my own mother.
She was forcing me to marry my abusive cousin because he had paid her twenty thousand dollars.
To escape, I used a contract marriage app and begged a complete stranger to marry me at City Hall that very day.
Ethan drove a cheap Ford and wore a plain suit. I thought he was just an ordinary guy needing a fake wife.
When my mother found out, she brought thugs to destroy my flower shop—my only home and livelihood.
To protect Ethan from her endless extortion, I shielded him and screamed that he was bankrupt and drowning in credit card debt.
My mother fled in disgust, and Ethan took me into his apartment for the night.
But out of trauma and habit, I locked my bedroom door, muttering that he must be old and desperate.
He stormed out into the freezing night, leaving me terrified that I had ruined my only lifeline.
I didn't understand why he was so furiously offended, completely unaware that my "broke" husband was actually the most ruthless billionaire in New York, and I had just trampled his massive ego.
The next morning, his face was a mask of ice as he dragged me back to City Hall to annul the marriage and get rid of me.
"Annulment. Now," he demanded.
But the clerk just popped her gum and slid a pink paper across the counter.
"State law changed. Mandatory thirty-day cooling-off period."
8.8
Clara supported her boyfriend Leo for four years, paying his rent and buying his headshots while working dead-end extra gigs.
On his twenty-sixth birthday, she caught him in their bed with Veronica, a wealthy producer's daughter who constantly stole Clara's roles.
Leo mocked Clara as a "pathetic, poor stepping stone" who was just there until he got his foot in the door.
Veronica threatened to ruin Clara's career forever.
Clara dumped him, packed her bags, and impulsively entered a contract marriage with a cold stranger she met at City Hall.
But her nightmare wasn't over.
When her mother suddenly needed a $200,000 emergency brain surgery, Clara was forced to take a demeaning extra gig to survive.
There, Veronica and her starlet friend cornered Clara.
They mocked her cheap clothes, ridiculed her new wedding ring as fake glass, and intentionally poured scalding coffee on her feet.
"Well, maid, you better clean that up."
Veronica laughed, forcing Clara to her knees to wipe up the burning liquid while snapping photos.
Clara swallowed her burning humiliation, secretly recording their abuse on her phone.
She endured the pain, desperate for the $300 day rate to save her mother's life, feeling entirely crushed by their overwhelming wealth and power.
What she didn't know was that outside the soundstage, her new contract husband—the man she thought was just a struggling, broke tech worker—was sitting in a sleek black Maybach.
He watched his wife kneeling on the floor, and his dark eyes filled with a lethal, terrifying rage.