
Bound to My Former Professor
My boyfriend Grant and I built our tech startup from the ground up. I wrote the code, he handled the money. I trusted him with my life.
Then, the FBI raided our office. I was arrested for embezzling three million dollars. The proof was a wire transfer with my perfect, forged signature.
Grant, the man I loved, stood by and watched me get hauled away. He whispered the real price of my freedom: take the fall, or he’d cancel my grandmother's life-saving heart surgery by noon.
My accounts were frozen. With the hospital's deadline looming, I had no choice. I signed the confession, selling myself into slavery just to keep my grandmother alive.
My first task as his "assistant" was to serve drinks at an exclusive club, forced into a cheap corset and a skirt that was barely there.
That’s when I saw him. The ruthless billionaire from the other night—the man Grant's setup had thrown me to.
When I stumbled and fell at his feet, he caught my wrist. The look in his eyes wasn't pity. It was possession.
Chapters
Share
Chapter 6
Brendon stilled, his body a taut line of surprise and a nascent, dangerous irritation. He leaned back slightly, his dark eyes narrowing behind the lenses of his glasses. The abrupt, violent shift from her hesitant, sacrificial compliance to frantic, almost hysterical resistance clearly puzzled him. He easily caught her flailing wrists, his grip like steel bands, effortlessly neutralizing her struggles. "What is it now?" he demanded, his voice low and laced with a sharp, impatient edge that sent a shiver of fear down her spine.
"You're married!" Fiona cried out again, the words a desperate, ragged accusation. Her eyes were locked on the gold band on his finger, staring at it with a mixture of horror and loathing, as if it were a venomous snake poised to strike. It was the symbol of his profound betrayal, and now, the potential emblem of her own inescapable depravity.
Brendon followed her gaze down to his own hand. A flicker of comprehension—and something that looked like profound annoyance—crossed his patrician features. He glanced at the ring, then back at her, his expression unreadable. "I'm not married," he said, his tone flat, clipped, and utterly dismissive. "I wear it for fun."
It was, in its own infuriatingly technical way, the truth. The ring was a constant nuisance, a gold talisman his deeply superstitious mother had cajoled him into wearing after a particularly expensive session with her feng shui master. It was meant to ward off "unsuitable energy" and attract a proper, blue-blooded wife from a family of equal or greater standing. He found the entire notion absurd, but it was easier to wear the damn ring than to endure his mother’s lectures. But to Fiona’s ears, raw with trauma and primed for betrayal, his arrogant, clipped explanation sounded like the most cliché, insulting, and transparent lie a cheating, powerful man could possibly utter. It was a dismissal not only of her valid question but of her intelligence, her moral outrage, and her very personhood. He didn't even deem her worthy of a plausible lie.
Before she could voice the hot, furious disbelief that was choking her, before she could scream at him for the monster he was, the sharp, electronic buzz of the penthouse intercom sliced through the tense, charged silence.
With a sigh of profound, palpable irritation, Brendon released one of her wrists and jabbed the button on the sleek, wall-mounted panel. "Yes?" His voice was cold steel.
The concierge’s voice, impeccably crisp and deferential, echoed into the silent room, each word a hammer blow to Fiona's fragile state. "Mr. Powell, my sincere apologies for the interruption. Your mother, Mrs. Powell, and your fiancée, Ms. Estela Alford, are in the lobby. They say they are here to surprise you for a late dinner and have taken the liberty of holding a table for you at Daniel."
Fiancée.
The word struck Fiona like a physical blow, knocking the air from her lungs and leaving a ringing in her ears. It wasn't a wife hidden away in some country estate. It was a fiancée. A beautiful, high-society heiress, a public figure, a woman whose picture she had probably seen in the glossy pages of Vogue or Town & Country. A woman who was waiting for him downstairs, in the grand lobby, while he was up here, trying to claim his new "pet." The confirmation of his deceit was so absolute, so devastatingly complete, it left her feeling hollowed out, scoured clean of any remaining naivete. He was a hypocrite of the highest, most despicable order, an elite predator who played god with the lives of broken girls while maintaining a pristine, untouchable public facade.
Fiona watched as Brendon’s jaw clenched so tightly she could see the powerful muscle jump under his skin. She knew, with chilling certainty, that the fury radiating from him wasn't directed at his family's surprise visit. It was the cold, contained rage of being caught, of his meticulously compartmentalized worlds colliding so inconveniently.
"Tell them I will be down in ten minutes," he said, his voice dropping to a dangerously low temperature that promised retribution. He ended the call and turned his full, furious attention back to Fiona. His eyes glittered with a cold promise that made her blood freeze. He hadn't forgotten their transaction for a single second.
"Stay here," he commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument or escape. "Do not move from this room. We will finish this when I return."
You may also like

9.0
For seven years, I was the perfect wife to Denny Sanford and the brilliant CTO who built the core technology of his billion-dollar empire.
But at my brother-in-law's memorial service, I hid behind a velvet curtain in the study and caught my husband passionately kissing the grieving widow, Brittany.
They weren't just having an affair. Brittany was pregnant with Denny's child.
"Once the paternity test confirms the baby is a Sanford heir, we control everything," she whispered.
"Christa is brilliant with data, but clueless with people. She's completely harmless," Denny sneered, dismissing me as a convenient tool.
My world shattered. Under his protection, Brittany had already stolen the credit and millions of dollars in consulting fees for my patents. To maintain his perfect facade, Denny even abandoned our six-year-old daughter's championship to hold his mistress's hand through a fake hospital visit.
I had sacrificed my days and nights to build his company, only to realize my entire marriage was a calculated lie designed to fund his second family. He thought my scientific detachment made me blind, stupid, and weak.
Harmless? I smiled coldly in the dark, backed up every server log proving my intellectual property, and messaged the most ruthless divorce attorney in New York. If he wanted to build his future on stolen data, I would show him exactly how a scientist dismantles a flawed experiment.

8.7
Love unspeakable
8.7
Note that the famale lead real name is isabella,not Mirabel.It was corrected to isabella in chapter two.
Love unspeakable volume one (part one).
Novel synopsis
Betrayed and abandoned by James, who is deceived into believing she is a prostitute, Isabella Laurent loses everything including love, trust, and family wealth. Alone and heartbroken, she meets Frederick, a billionaire scarred by betrayal, who helps her rediscover love and faith. As their bond grows, Isabella rises in Frederick's company, turning heartbreak into power, intelligence, and influence.
But darkness lingers. Janet and Lydia, jealous of Isabella's strength, murdered her father and stole his fortune. Now, they fear her ascent and plot her downfall. Veronica, Frederick's cunning ex, returns with a child and falsified DNA tests, attempting to claim him. Frederick resists, but can he protect Isabella from a web of lies, deceit, and danger?
Will Isabella reclaim her father's legacy? Can love survive amidst betrayal and ambition? And who truly watches from the shadows, ready to strike when least expected?

7.7
Ethan loved her with empty pockets and a full heart.
He worked until his hands bled. Skipped meals. Gave her everything he had.
On Valentine's Day, he planned to give her the one gift he could never afford.
Instead, he caught her in another man's arms.
His brother's arms.
They laughed at him.
They told him love without money was worthless.
They threw him away like trash.
That same night, his phone rang.
And the world flipped.
One hundred million dollars appeared in his account.
A powerful family came looking for their lost heir.
And the poor boy nobody wanted became the man nobody could touch.
Now the woman who left him wants him back.
The family that crushed him wants forgiveness.
But Ethan is done begging.
Done loving with nothing.
This time, he decides who deserves him.

7.5
I spent ten years blindly devoted to my husband, Kyler, building a perfect life together.
When I went into premature labor, he held my hand and promised everything would be fine.
But the moment I woke up in the VIP delivery room, the doctor coldly declared my newborn daughter dead.
Kyler rushed in, his face a mask of grief, insisting on taking her body away immediately to handle the arrangements.
If I hadn't heard my supposedly dead baby's telepathic voice echoing in my head, I would have handed her over.
She told me Kyler had poisoned my prenatal vitamins to induce early labor.
He bribed the medical team to fake her death so he could harvest her rare stem cells to save his sick mistress.
And worse, he had pulled the security detail from our eight-year-old son's school.
He was letting cartel kidnappers take my boy just to force me to sign over my family's billionaire trust fund.
The man I kissed every morning was a monster wearing my husband's skin.
How could he smile at me while planning to murder our children and drain my family's wealth?
The sheer terror and betrayal tore my heart into a thousand jagged pieces.
But I didn't scream or confront him.
Instead, I faked a hysterical breakdown, clutched my baby tight, and quietly contacted my family's private mercenary team.
"File the injunctions. I want him destroyed by morning."

8.4
One woman. Three names. A thousand lies.
Corinne Sterling thought her secret was airtight. Teaching paid the bills but stripping paid the debts-that was the price of a corporate betrayal that ruined her name and stole her future. Her mask was supposed to keep her safe, until she caught the eye of the one man who has the power to ruin her.
Lucian Delacroix is a powerful widower, a devoted father to twin boys and a man who doesn't believe in coincidences. When he recognizes the eyes behind the glasses of his son's teacher as the masked dancer that nearly upturned his world, his curiosity turns into a dangerous obsession.
Instead of exposing her, he claims her.
Instead of destroying her, he offers a lifeline: his name, his protection and a wedding ring.
It was supposed to be a cold business arrangement, they were supposed to be skeptical allies. But as they dig into a conspiracy of fraud and murder that tied their lives together long before they met, the lines of their fake marriage begin to blur.
And in this dangerous game of desire and deception, the price of love might be more than either is prepared to pay.

9.5
My husband Kamden and I were the most powerful couple in New York, an unbreakable alliance of wealth and influence. To the world, we were perfect, especially with our new baby daughter, Penny, waiting for us at home.
But the illusion shattered at the Jasper Stone gala when Cason Vincent walked in. He wasn't just a rival; he was a dead ringer for Kamden—a cruel, predatory mirror image who seemed to know the secrets of the year I spent in London.
In front of the city’s elite, a socialite screamed that I was a fraud, accusing me of using Kamden as a "substitute" for the man I truly loved. The music stopped, and the room turned into a sea of judgmental whispers.
I expected my husband to shield me, but the paranoia in his eyes was sharper than any rumor. He grabbed my scarred left hand—the one I had ruined to save his life years ago—and squeezed it until I winced in pain.
"Am I just a replacement?" he hissed, his voice trembling with a terrifying insecurity. He didn't see the wife who had sacrificed her world-class piano career for him; he saw a woman who had settled for a copy.
The injustice of it felt like a physical blow. I had destroyed my body and my future to keep him safe, yet he was ready to believe a stranger’s lies over three years of marriage. He didn't want the truth; he wanted me to beg for his forgiveness for a sin I never committed.
I realized then that my silence wasn't an admission of guilt, but my last shred of dignity. I pulled my hand away and walked out of the gala alone, leaving Kamden standing face-to-face with the man who had come to dismantle our lives.