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 6
"Captain Holland, the cabin door is closed, passengers are seated, overhead bins secured, and all crew members are in position. Requesting pushback."
Fifteen minutes before takeoff, Jared sat in the cockpit, listening to Rachel's voice crackle over the internal intercom.
It was completely different from the angry tone of the woman who had just cursed him for smudging her foundation.
Rachel's voice was now gentle and intelligent, like a clear spring flowing over the tip of his heart.
Jared paused for a few seconds before pressing the intercom button. Calm and steady, he replied, "Tower has cleared us for pushback. Ground tow vehicles are ready. Cabin crew, maintain radio silence."
Rachel replied, "Copy that."
The aircraft successfully took off. About an hour later, the intercom rang again.
"Captain, cabin service has commenced. Passengers have reported the air conditioning is too cold. We have adjusted it to 25 degrees Celsius. Will this affect the aircraft balance?"
Jared replied steadily, "No impact. Cabin temperature can be adjusted within the 22 to 26 degrees Celsius range."
"Copy that."
The two co-pilots exchanged glances and chuckled.
Moris laughed. "Flight Attendant Rachel has such a lovely voice... it's practically melting my ears."
David chimed in from the other side, "Don't let her voice fool you. She's not the soft-spoken type her name suggests. Back in college, she was already famous as the aloof goddess."
Moris asked, "Is she really that cold in private? Does she treat her significant other that way too? That sounds stiff and boring."
Jared listened silently throughout.
Stiff and boring?
Only he knew how soft and alluring Rachel could be at night-
like winter ice melting in his palm, pooling into a soft, clear stream.
But outside those moments, Rachel was rebellious and unmanageable by day.
These past few days, she had been especially unruly, leaving behind the divorce papers and walking out the door.
Jared's gaze grew deep and icy...
Moris asked, "Captain, what do you think of this Rachel?"
Jared's tone was indifferent. "She's okay."
Moris and David exchanged glances. Seeing his serious expression and the restrained tone of his voice, it sounded like mere politeness.
Had they misjudged? Did the captain have no interest in Rachel at all?
David looked at the wedding ring on Jared's left hand and smiled, trying to smooth things over. "Our captain has a lovely wife at home. Naturally, she's the best. No one can compare to her."
Jared didn't respond, as if tacitly agreeing.
The intercom was still on.
Rachel had expected instructions from the cockpit, but instead overheard the entire exchange.
She remembered what Charles had said.
Many colleagues in the aviation department assumed Olivia was Jared's wife.
When David said, "Your wife is the best... no one can compare to her," he was referring to Olivia.
And Jared hadn't refuted it.
Hah. This "stiff, boring, free bedmate" of his was nothing but a complete clown.
After over four hours, the plane arrived at L.A's International Airport.
"Captain, no medical emergencies occurred on this flight. Passengers in the rear economy section reported loose tray tables, which have been logged in the cabin report."
The familiar female voice came through the intercom, and Jared paused.
Rachel's tone was cold, as if hiding some emotion-
an emotion clearly directed at him.
His brow furrowed as he pressed the intercom button. "Copy that. Maintenance will handle the inspection. Thank you for your hard work, Flight Attendant Rachel. This flight went smoothly."
The final sentence carried a hint of testing.
On the other end, Rachel's voice grew even colder. "The cabin report will be submitted after the flight. Goodbye."
Jared's frown deepened.
She didn't even address him as "Captain"?
The intercom cut out completely.
Moris shivered. "Good heavens, she truly lives up to her reputation as the Ice Queen. When she turns cold, every word cuts like an ice pick... enough to freeze you to death."
David added, "She's got such a strong personality. I wonder what kind of man could ever win over a woman like Rachel?"
Jared's face darkened. He tugged at his tie with one hand and walked away from the cockpit without looking back.
*****
Rachel changed into casual clothes in the lounge.
The trip back to L.A marked the end of a duty period. For the final three days of July, she was forced to take leave. She wouldn't be able to numb herself with work again until August.
Pushing her suitcase through the airport basement, her phone rang-it was Charles.
"Rachel, is your duty shift over?"
"Yes."
"Then wait at the airport for a bit. Taylor and I will come pick you up."
"No need to go through all that trouble. I'll just take a taxi."
"Alright then. Be careful. I ordered some grilled meat and fresh buns for delivery. We'll have a barbecue at home tonight."
After hanging up, Rachel turned toward the elevator lobby.
This level of the underground garage was filled with private cars; the open-air platform would be a better spot to hail a taxi.
Before she could take two steps, an arm clamped around her from behind.
A familiar, deep voice spoke.
"Our car's right up ahead. Where are you heading?"
Rachel turned, meeting Jared's deep brown eyes directly.
"If Captain Holland is here to discuss divorce proceedings, I'm happy to talk. If not, then no thanks. I'm meeting friends for a barbecue tonight, so I'll just-hey! What are you doing?"
Before she could finish, Jared bent down and hoisted her onto his shoulder, one arm cradling her flailing legs while the other grabbed her suitcase as he strode off.
"Jared Holland! Put me down! What if someone sees us!"
The man chuckled. "Scream louder. I guarantee the whole parking garage will hear your echo."
"..."
In this position, her head was upside down and her chest felt slightly constricted.
Rachel endured the discomfort. Moments later, another wave of dizziness swept over her as Jared shoved her into the back seat of the Bentley.
Jared sat beside her and ordered the driver in a deep voice, "Donald, back to Galaxy Villa."
"Yes, sir."
As the Bentley began to move, Rachel fought off the dizziness and immediately reached for the door handle.
Anticipating her move, Jared swept her into his arms, placing her across his lap and pinning her restless wrists with his large hands.
Rachel struggled, her wrists hurting from the restraint, her anger boiling over. "Are you out of your mind?"
"Taking my runaway wife home counts as me being crazy?"
Rachel shot back, "Who ran away? We're separated-pending divorce."
Jared held her wrists with one hand and gripped her slender waist with the other, keeping her seated sideways across his lap.
"Rachel, divorce isn't like breaking up with a lover. It's not something you can end by simply announcing it unilaterally and then walking away."
Rachel replied patiently, "I've already signed the divorce agreement. All you need to do is sign it, and we can schedule a time to go to the-"
Jared cut her off.
"I tore it up."
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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."