Broken Engagement, Unleashed Heiress's Fury
My fiancé, Chadwick Steele, always treated me like a dirty secret-the nerdy brains behind his glamorous tech empire. He flaunted his affair with his mistress, Isa, while constantly reminding me I was an embarrassment he was forced to tolerate.
That all came to a head in a crowded mall. In front of everyone, he publicly broke our engagement, choosing her over me and leaving me to her mercy.
But Isa wasn't satisfied with just winning. She had Chadwick's bodyguards pin me to the floor.
She slapped me, kicked me, and then pulled out a silver letter opener. As she carved a bloody gash across my cheek, she laughed about teaching me a permanent lesson for daring to exist in her world.
I was bleeding and broken, my spirit completely shattered. I thought it was over.
Then, a custom Rolls-Royce pulled up. My mother, Frederica Mooney-the silent titan of Silicon Valley who secretly bankrolls the entire Steele family fortune-stepped out. She took one look at my face, her eyes turning to ice, and gave me the only words I needed to hear: "I give you my full permission."
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Chapter 5
A small, grim satisfaction settled in my stomach. I pictured Cornel Steele, Chadwick' s father, receiving the news. The arranged engagement, the carefully constructed alliance between our families' tech empires, shattered by his son' s blatant disregard. Cornel, a man who understood the delicate balance of power in Silicon Valley, would be seething. His empire, built on my mother' s investments, was now vulnerable. The thought was a tiny, cold comfort.
I turned on my heel, ready to walk away and put this pathetic display behind me. There was no point in standing here, enduring more of their poisonous words. I had made my statement.
"Oh no, you don' t!" Isa shrieked, her voice shrill with revived fury. She lunged, blocking my path, her eyes wild. "You think you can just drop an empty threat and walk away? Chadwick is here now! He' ll protect me!" She clung to Chadwick' s arm, her eyes wide and demanding.
"You attacked me! You stole my purchase!" Isa repeated, her voice rising to a hysterical pitch. "And now you' re trying to run? Not a chance, you little thief!"
I paused, looking at her, then at Chadwick, who merely scowled at me. "What is it you want, Isa?" I asked, my voice flat, devoid of emotion. "Do you want to continue this charade, or are you just here to prove how desperate you are for attention?"
She scoffed, misinterpreting my calm as fear. "Desperate? I' m going to make you pay for humiliating me! Chadwick will stand by me, won' t you, darling?" She looked up at him, her eyes pleading for affirmation. Chadwick, ever the peacock, puffed out his chest a little, a possessive hand settling on her waist.
"You' re going to regret crossing Isa," Chadwick growled, his voice low and menacing.
Isa took that as her cue. She snatched her hand from Chadwick' s arm, her frustration boiling over. "I' m going to teach you a lesson, you pathetic little bitch!" she snarled, her hand raised, ready to strike. "I' m going to make you scream! I' m going to hit you until I feel good about myself!"
Her hand shot out, but this time, I was ready. My vision narrowed, focusing only on her outstretched arm. My hand moved like lightning, catching her wrist in mid-air. Her momentum, her intent to strike, was instantly halted.
Isa gasped, her eyes widening in shock. She struggled, trying to pull her arm free, but my grip was like steel. A cold, hard resolve had settled over me. She wanted a fight? She had one.
Without a second thought, I twisted her wrist, not with brute force, but with precise, calculated pressure on a joint. A sharp crack echoed in the suddenly silent mall. Isa let out a choked cry, her face contorting in agony. Her hand instinctively went limp, paralyzed by the sudden, excruciating pain.
"That' s for calling me a bitch," I said, my voice dangerously low.
Before she could fully process the first strike, I released her wrist only to grab her other arm, twisting it behind her back. Another sharp crack, followed by another scream, this one louder, more visceral. Her body arched, her eyes bulging with pain and disbelief.
"And that," I continued, my voice still unnervingly calm, "is for trying to hit me." I held her there, twisted and vulnerable. "Is that enough, Isa? Or do you want to keep going?"
Her face, once a mask of arrogant triumph, was now a crumpled mess of tears and snot. Her perfectly styled hair was disheveled, her expensive clothes askew. Her boasts of family power, her threats against the sales associate, all dissolved into whimpers of pain. She wasn' t looking at me with anger anymore, but with sheer terror.
She pulled away, stumbling backward, desperately seeking refuge behind Chadwick. She hid herself, trembling, her face buried in his expensive suit jacket.
Chadwick, his face a thundercloud of fury, stepped forward, shielding Isa with his body. He glared at me, his eyes promising retribution. "You psychotic bitch!" he roared. "You think you can get away with this? You just assaulted my fiancée! I will make sure you never work in this industry again! I will make sure you regret the day you were born!"
He gestured to the two burly men in dark suits who had emerged from the limousine' s front seats, his personal security detail. "Grab her! Teach her a lesson she' ll never forget!"
The two men, built like brick walls, moved with a terrifying efficiency. My heart pounded, but my resolve remained. I had unleashed the beast, and now, I had to face the consequences.
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8.0
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7.3
I borrowed my wealthy best friend's identity to seduce Colonel Ethan Christensen. He was the powerful uncle of my ex-boyfriend, Kayden, who had brutally dumped me for a rich heiress.
My revenge plan worked too well. Ethan fell deeply in love with my fake persona and proposed. But then he handed me a thick envelope: a top-secret military background check requiring fingerprints and ten years of history.
My fake identity was about to be shattered. I faced federal fraud charges and prison time. More than that, the guilt was eating me alive. Ethan wasn't a pawn; he was a genuinely honorable man who promised to protect me. Terrified and exhausted by the lies, I typed out a full confession, ready to tell him everything and walk away.
But right before I hit send, Kayden's new fiancée called to gloat about their engagement. Through the phone, I heard Kayden's voice, lazily mocking my low status.
"Tell her to stay home. Tell her to find someone on her own level in the gutter."
The rage burned away all my guilt. Why should I be the bigger person while they destroyed my life without a second thought?
I deleted the confession and called my friend to hire a black-market hacker. I needed a flawless, forged background in forty-eight hours. I am going to marry Ethan Christensen, and I am going to smile when Kayden is forced to call me "Aunt."
7.0
On her wedding night, Liora Vale expected passion from her wealthy husband. Instead, she got rejection and humiliation.
When his dangerously seductive best friend, Kael Draven, corners her on the balcony and claims her virgin body with raw, unprotected fury, Liora discovers a pleasure she never knew existed.
Now addicted to Kael's brutal touch and filthy promises, the once-innocent bride becomes his secret slut, sneaking creampies in limos, riding him at galas, and begging to be bred while her husband sleeps nearby.
Kael won't stop until he destroys Silas and fills Liora's womb with his child.
She was supposed to be the perfect wife... now she's the shameless breeding whore who belongs only to him.
9.3
Marissa was the perfect wife. She traded her high powered corporate ladder for home cooked meals and a designer sanctuary, all to support her husband, Ethan.
But when Ethan confesses to a four month affair not out of guilt, but because his mistress is extorting him for $300 million...Marissa's world turns to ash.Ethan's solution is as twisted as his heart.
"Cheat back. Get even. Stay married."Driven by a cocktail of rage and Revenge, Marissa decides to take him up on his offer. She heads into the night looking for a single moment of rebellion to wash away the scent of Ethan's lies.
She finds it in the arms of a cold, devastatingly masked handsome stranger who makes her forget everything.Broken and fueled by the betrayal, Marissa decides to take the ultimate risk. She slips into an exclusive, members only masquerade club...a place where names don't exist and only desires matter.
Behind a lace mask, she meets him....a man who smells of expensive bourbon and cold command.He is the first person in years to see the fire in her, not just the wife she became.They share a night of scorched....earth passion that leaves Marissa breathless and "even." She leaves before the sun rises, intending for the stranger to remain a ghost of her revenge.
But some ghosts have a name.When the masks come off and the corporate world demands her return, Marissa comes face to face with the man from the club. He isn't just anyone. He is Xavier Sterling....the ruthless billionaire CEO she once worked for, and the man Ethan calls his "best friend."Xavier knows her scent. He knows her touch. And most dangerously, he knows exactly what Ethan did to her.
Now, Marissa has to navigate a world where her husband wants her to stay, the mistress wants her dead, and the CEO wants to own the one woman he was never supposed to touch.
Now, Marissa is caught in a lethal triangle. Xavier wants to own her, Ethan wants to keep her to save his reputation, and the $300 million debt is threatening to drown them all. In a world of billionaire power plays, Marissa is about to learn that revenge is a dish best served... in the CEO's bed.
7.9
In my past life, I was the naive surrogate who fell desperately in love with Karson King, an untouchable Wall Street billionaire.
I thought my blind devotion would earn me a place in his family. Instead, his cruel mother forced me to sign away my parental rights to my three-year-old daughter.
I was locked in a dark, freezing basement. I watched helplessly as his arrogant relatives tormented my child, pushing her down a flight of marble stairs and shattering her tiny arm.
When we finally died in a horrific car crash, my face covered in blood amidst the shattered glass, Karson didn't shed a single tear. To him, my death was just the convenient erasure of a cheap mistake.
I sacrificed my dignity for his approval, but they treated us worse than stray dogs. Why did my innocent daughter have to pay the ultimate price for their ruthless arrogance?
Opening my eyes again, the harsh glare of a massive crystal chandelier pierced my vision. I was back in the grand foyer of the King estate, exactly five years ago.
"Sign it. You are nothing but a gold digger."
My soon-to-be mother-in-law slammed the thick legal contract onto the marble table, demanding I give up my daughter.
This time, the paralyzing fear evaporated, replaced by absolute, icy clarity.
I didn't cower. I picked up the pen, looked right at the billionaire who despised me, and prepared to manipulate his entire empire.
7.7
In my past life, the bullet chambered in the gun on the desk was less lethal than the indifference of the two men standing beside me.
Dante and Matteo were supposed to be the future kings of Chicago, and I was their queen.
But they threw it all away for Sofia—a liar with a pretty face and a fake sob story about a gambling father.
They forced me into a gilded cage, making me serve Sofia like a maid while they played her saviors.
They let me rot in isolation until I swallowed a bottle of pills just to escape the coldness of their neglect.
They didn't even mourn me; they were too busy comforting the girl who would eventually destroy them.
I died realizing that my loyalty was my fatal flaw.
I had worshipped men who saw me as nothing more than an accessory, while they sacrificed their empire for a woman who played them for fools.
But the universe has a sick sense of humor.
It sent me back.
Back to the day that sealed my fate.
The Consigliere pushed the assignment papers toward us—the path to becoming Bosses.
"We are not going," Dante said, looking at me with cold eyes. "Sofia needs us. She is fragile."
In my past life, I begged them to stay.
This time, I stepped forward and picked up the pen.
"I will go," I said, signing my name in sharp black ink.
"I don't need your protection anymore."