Captain, Sign Our Divorce NOW!
For three years, Rachel lived in a marriage that almost no one knew existed.
To the outside world, Captain Jared Holland-the cold and powerful second son of the influential Holland family-was single.
Only a handful of people knew the truth: Rachel was his legal wife. Their marriage had begun because of a mistake and was bound by a prenuptial agreement that promised it would end quietly after three years.
And in Jared's heart, there had always been someone else-Olivia, his foster sister and first love.
When Rachel returns from a grueling flight and sees a video of Jared desperately carrying Olivia to the hospital, the last illusion she held onto finally shatters. That same night, she signs the divorce papers and walks away with nothing but a suitcase and her dignity.
But when the time comes to finalize the divorce, Jared refuses to sign-always finding excuses to delay it.
The woman he once ignored is now determined to leave.
And the man who never valued her is suddenly unwilling to let her go.
Rachel looked at the man in front of her and frowned: "Jared what are you playing? Sign the divorce papers."
Jared smiled, "Darling, I am sorry, I was wrong. Please, let's not get divorce."
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Chapter 5
As dusk fell, Rachel hailed a cab to the address Charles had sent.
At the small apartment door, a completely unfamiliar man opened it.
He had wheat-colored skin, a muscular build, and stood tall and imposing.
Rachel froze, thinking she must have the wrong address-
until Charles peeked out from behind him, one hand on his hip, the other arm casually draped around the man's shoulder.
"Ellie, let me introduce you to my new boyfriend, Taylor Clark. He's a fitness trainer."
He added, giving Taylor's bicep a squeeze, "See? Much more substantial than Captain Holland, don't you think?"
"..."
Compared to this man built like a gorilla, Rachel preferred Jared's physique.
Every inch of his lean muscles was perfectly sculpted-broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and a pert little butt.
He looked slim in clothes but had solid muscle underneath.
She gave an awkward smile and greeted Taylor. "Hello."
Taylor nodded with a smile, appearing reasonably friendly. He took the suitcase from her hand and carried it into the small bedroom.
Charles noticed her unease. "Relax, you can stay here. My honey and I are both gay. We're not interested in someone like you..."
Physically, they were different.
Psychologically, they were sisters.
Rachel did relax a bit after hearing this.
Charles rested his forearm lightly on Rachel's shoulder and whispered, "Hey, did you move out because of that Olivia? Because you had a fight with Captain Holland?"
Rachel shook her head. "We're getting divorced."
"It can't really be because of Olivia, can it?"
Sort of-but not entirely.
That one night of recklessness with Jared somehow got blown up by the media. Though the Holland family's PR team responded, the story still spread like wildfire throughout L.A's high society.
Not long after, Sahara approached her, demanding she sign a prenuptial agreement stipulating divorce after three years.
Back then, she had no idea Jared harbored a long-lost love and was supporting his younger sister.
To prove her sincerity-to show she wasn't scheming for his money-she signed it decisively.
Looking back now, she felt a twinge of regret.
A man who wasn't meant for her was ultimately impossible to keep.
But if she could negotiate the terms and secure a hefty divorce settlement, that money would be hers-plain and simple.
"Ellie," Charles sighed, thinking she was still grieving over heartbreak. He patted her shoulder. "Let it go. There are plenty of men out there."
Taylor emerged from the small bedroom and chimed in, "Three-legged toads are hard to find, but three-legged men are everywhere. With your qualities, Rachel, you'll have your pick of men in the future."
Coming from a man, these words of comfort carried surprising weight.
Rachel suppressed a smile and nodded.
The three gathered around the coffee table for dinner, quickly growing comfortable with each other.
*****
The next day.
Charles had an early morning flight for work and rose at 5:00 a.m.
The door of the small bedroom was open.
As Charles passed by, he peered inside and noticed Rachel had already gotten up. She had even changed into her work uniform and was applying makeup.
He asked in confusion, "Ellie, aren't you on vacation?"
"Ah, Maya's grandmother passed away. She wanted to take a few days off, so I swapped shifts with her."
Rachel quickly dusted on loose powder, packed away her makeup case, and stood up with her suitcase in hand.
Charles watched her efficient movements and grew even more puzzled. "I thought your July duty hours had already hit the limit?"
"Nope. I can still fly a few more short international routes. Vacation isn't that appealing... might as well earn some cash."
Charles looked at her beautiful face and sighed silently.
As far as he knew, Rachel worked right up to her duty limit almost every month-literally risking her life to earn money.
He took her suitcase. "Give me five minutes to pack. I'll drive. You got up too early... sleep in the car."
Rachel nodded.
*****
Two days later.
Rachel never imagined that after moving out of Galaxy Villa, her next encounter with Jared would be in a conference room at Canada International Airport.
Pushing open the glass door, she immediately spotted Jared seated at the head of the conference table.
He wore a dark pilot uniform, his jet-black hair neatly trimmed, radiating a commanding presence.
What an unfortunate coincidence.
Although both she and Jared worked in the same airline aviation department, crew assignments between flight and cabin teams were not fixed. Due to factors like leave and scheduling, assignments were random.
This July marked the first time they had been assigned to the same flight.
Rachel entered, and Jared's gaze fell on her almost simultaneously.
His cold eyes narrowed slightly, radiating an intense aura.
Rachel pulled out a chair and sat down, pretending not to feel the oppressive weight of his gaze.
"The flight carries 260 passengers, including 12 infants requiring special attention. Two first-class passengers have requested vegetarian meals, and standard meals consist of Thai-style light fare..."
Rachel delivered the cabin report with smooth eloquence.
Moris, the co-pilot seated opposite Jared, frantically signaled to David to look at him.
Jared's face was cold and stern, his gaze fixed directly on Rachel.
It felt as though he could burn right through her, leaving a deep, searing mark.
David and Moris exchanged puzzled glances.
Captain Holland never took off his wedding ring, seemingly deeply devoted to his wife.
But the look he was giving flight attendant Rachel now was far too intense.
Could it be... he had taken a liking to Rachel?
The pre-flight briefing concluded.
Rachel slipped away as quickly as possible.
As she entered the glass-enclosed walkway leading to the aircraft cabin, footsteps behind her grew louder and closer.
Rachel, in her high heels, unconsciously quickened her pace.
The man broke into a short jog. His large hand clamped down on her slender wrist, his voice low and commanding.
"What are you running from? Am I some kind of monster? Or have you done something you shouldn't have-afraid to face me?"
Rachel spun around, lifting her chin defiantly. "Captain Holland, you're overthinking it. I just want to get back to the cabin quickly."
Click-clack... click-clack...
In the quiet, narrow glass corridor, only the two of them existed. Jared's approaching footsteps sounded clear and deliberate.
Rachel held her breath, suppressing the frantic pounding of her heart.
She wrenched her hand free from Jared's grasp and scanned the surroundings. Any small sound in the glass corridor made her jump like a startled bird.
Jared remained utterly composed, slowly bending down to whisper near her ear.
His warm breath brushed against her ear as he murmured, "The divorce agreement on the nightstand-what was that about?"
Rachel's face remained icy as she took a step back, her demeanor distant.
"Exactly what it says. How am I supposed to explain the literal meaning to Captain Holland, who seems to be lacking in intelligence?"
"..."
Jared's expression darkened considerably.
But he knew this was not the place for discussion. Punishingly, he pinched Rachel's cheek and dropped a sentence.
"I'll wait for you in the underground parking lot in L.A."
Then he bypassed Rachel and boarded the plane first.
The pinch wasn't painful-it carried a hint of playful reproach and ambiguity-but Rachel was furious.
"Bastard! You smudged my foundation!"
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9.0
Adaline Poole thought she had escaped her family's toxic corporate grip by moving to London and adopting a stray cat named Monty.
But when she returns to her empty apartment, her father delivers a chilling ultimatum: he has kidnapped the cat and will euthanize it by morning unless she accepts an arranged marriage with Barron Cooke, a notoriously elusive billionaire.
Her entire family becomes complicit in her sale. Her mother demands she secure their elite status, and her brother secretly spies on her social media to feed Barron her every move. Horrified to discover Barron is a thirty-three-year-old "fossil" twelve years her senior, Adaline resorts to sabotage. She goes to a Soho club, takes a scandalous photo with a frat boy, and sends it to the old billionaire to disgust him into canceling their upcoming dinner.
But her rebellion backfires horribly when the frat boy spikes her drink with a powerful narcotic. As her body burns with a terrifying, feverish heat, she collapses in a dark corridor. Stripped of her phone and betrayed by her bloodline, she is left utterly defenseless as a predator approaches to drag her away.
Suddenly, the heavy fire door is kicked open by a towering, terrifyingly handsome stranger who effortlessly neutralizes her attacker.
"Please... help me," Adaline begs, deliriously throwing her burning body into his arms.
She has absolutely no idea that the handsome savior she is clinging to is Barron Cooke himself.
7.0
Eight years ago, Alaina forced herself to say the most vicious, heartless things to break up with her fiercely loyal college boyfriend, protecting him from his billionaire family's wrath.
Now, she is a top maxillofacial surgeon, and Jarred Mcknight has returned as the ruthless CEO of Wall Street's most powerful corporation.
Their worlds collide in the ER, but Jarred isn't alone. He is accompanying his rumored heiress fiancée.
His eyes are pure ice. He treats Alaina with a suffocating, clinical detachment, fiercely protecting the heiress from Alaina's medical examination. The professional slap in the face shatters Alaina's heart all over again.
Later, at an exclusive restaurant, Jarred catches Alaina on a miserable, forced blind date. Still believing she left him for money and status, he publicly mocks her for working herself to the bone just to climb the ladder.
Her sleazy date, humiliated by the billionaire's sheer dominance, turns his bruised ego on Alaina. On the dark street outside, the lawyer aggressively grabs her arm, trying to force himself on her.
Alaina thought Jarred despised her. She thought he had completely moved on, leaving her to drown in the memories of the future they never had.
But why did Jarred suddenly explode from the shadows like a lethal predator, brutally snapping the lawyer's wrist just for touching her?
Pinning her trapped against the cold brick wall, Jarred's dark eyes burn with a terrifying, unhinged possessiveness.
"Is this the kind of garbage you date now?"
The eight years of separation mean nothing. The billionaire hasn't let her go, and this time, there is no escape.
9.5
On the day she discovers she is pregnant, Amara is handed divorce papers by the man she loved for three years. Betrayed by her husband and her best friend, she walks away with nothing-except the secret growing inside her.
But what Ethan Cole doesn't know is that the woman he abandoned is not weak... and not alone.
When Amara returns as a powerful heiress, no longer the woman he could control, Ethan begins to regret everything. But as secrets unravel and the truth about her pregnancy comes closer to light, one question remains-
When he finally finds out the child is his... will it already be too late?
8.0
My husband, Jackson, the Alpha of the Dorsey Pack, was supposed to be my partner, my equal. I paid for everything, from his suits to our private jet. Today, the man I loved told me I wasn't flying with him to the Alpha Summit.
Instead, he declared his mistress, Amber, "fragile" and needing my jet, while I got an economy ticket. His mother, Cornelia, added my healing "aura" was too "intense" for Amber.
My heart shattered from the public humiliation. Jackson kissed Amber, a tenderness denied me for years, while the pack looked away. He even blocked our mind-link, the ultimate rejection.
A searing, cold rage erupted. For five years, I suppressed my royal White Wolf blood, enduring their disdain for a man who now cast me aside like trash.
As my jet lifted into the sky, something inside me unleashed. I pulled out my phone, fingers trembling with resolve. "Cancel the Gulfstream's flight. Ground them. Cut everything. The game is over."
7.6
Overnight, Ella lost her family, her home, and her entire life. Discarded by the foster system, she was left shivering in the freezing mud outside her ruined estate.
That was when Javier Shepherd appeared. The terrifyingly cold, powerful billionaire pulled her from the dirt, threw her into a massive glass penthouse, handed her an unlimited black card, and vanished overseas, leaving her in the hands of a cruel caretaker.
The caretaker treated Ella like garbage, feeding her cheap, processed meals while using the black card to buy designer bags. The toxic food triggered a severe allergic reaction. Ella collapsed in the dark hallway, her throat swelling shut, gasping for air while the caretaker locked the door and turned up the TV. She almost died on that cold hardwood floor.
When Javier found out, he ruthlessly destroyed the caretaker and sent her to prison. He guarded Ella's hospital bed with terrifying intensity and even moved into her apartment to stop her panic attacks. Yet, when Ella finally broke down crying over her dead parents, his eyes turned to ice.
"Losing emotional control over a juvenile past is an inefficient waste of energy."
He sneered, treating her grief like a bad financial investment. Ella was completely bewildered. Why did this dangerous man protect her so fiercely, yet hate her past so deeply?
It wasn't until his cousin visited the hospital that the cruel truth was revealed. Javier wasn't saving her out of kindness. He had been obsessed with Ella's mother—his family's adopted daughter who ran away years ago. To him, Ella wasn't a person to be loved. She was just a replacement asset, a ghost of the woman he never got over.
8.1
Chantal Lewis's family legacy was twenty-four hours away from a fifty-million-dollar foreclosure.
Desperate to save her parents, she sold her soul, offering herself as a paper wife to Dell Valdez, a ruthless Wall Street billionaire needing a quick PR fix.
But Dell didn't just buy her; he trapped her in a living nightmare.
He forced her into a brutal three-year repayment plan she could never afford, treated her like a disposable prop, and deliberately leaked a scandalous paparazzi photo to destroy her hard-earned professional credibility.
Worst of all, the first time his calloused hand touched hers, a violent, terrifying flashback assaulted her brain.
The scorching heat of his palms and the distinct, dark scent of his cedarwood cologne perfectly matched the repressed memory of a pitch-black room where she was pinned to a mattress against her will.
Chantal didn't understand why her cold-blooded fake husband felt exactly like the monster from her unspoken trauma.
She understood even less why, after months of ignoring her, he was suddenly acting violently jealous and possessive when she merely smiled at another man!
Why did his scent match her attacker, and what was he truly planning?
Furious, she called him to threaten a divorce, only for his voice to drop into a lethal whisper.
"Try it. See what happens."
Before she could process his deadly threat, her office phone rang.
"Ms. Lewis," her receptionist trembled. "Your brother is in the lobby. He owes money to some very bad people, and they are coming here right now."