Contract marriage to my billionaire ex boyfriend's brother
Marissa," he said softly, but there was nothing gentle about it. His voice was low, controlled to the point of fracture. "Walk away. Now. Or I won't be able to stop myself."
The sound slipped from me before I could cage it-a quiet, helpless moan.
I lifted my chin, meeting his gaze.
"Don't," I whispered. "Don't stop yourself, Carlton."
His last bit of restraint snapped, along with the clasp of my bra
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Chapter 2
Marissa: I didn't understand who this strange man was, or why he thought he could just ask me to marry him? "Who are you?" I asked, my voice trembling. He glanced at me."The question is if you'd marry me or not-which I know you will" The arrogance in his tone made my skin crawl, I wanted to just get out of the car. I yanked the car door open, desperate to get out. I felt a strong grip on my hands. "Sit down" His voice was low, calm but commanding, it made heat flow through me- anger, shock and something else I couldn't quite understand. But I sat with no fight -I just sat. He released me,took out a sheet of paper and started scribbling. "My number is on it, for when you change your mind. Which I know you will." My jaw clenched. I wanted to slap his face badly. I just took the sheet of paper and stepped out of the car. I could feel his eyes on me while walking away. I didn't look back. I refused to. I stood at the door, hesitant to knock... I couldn't face my sister -she had always warned me about Justin, I always had my defense card on whenever she tried to say anything about him. I knocked. immediately I saw Camille , I fell into her arms,she didn't ask any questions all she did was embrace me. It felt like she sensed my pain before I even said anything. "Are you okay" she asked softly. I didn't know what to say- I knew I wasn't okay I just nodded and decided to retire to my room. I sat on my bed hands over my mouth, I didn't want my sister to hear my muffled crying...I don't know if I can ever heal from this. I looked in the mirror, wiped off my makeup which had already smeared down my face from all tears. I peeled off my dress and shoes then I dragged myself to the bathroom. I didn't realize when tears filled up my eyes, my body felt empty, it felt like I lost my soul... " I hate my life" I whispered I let the shower run through my body and I got out. When I stepped out,I heard my Camille call my name. I sighed. I didn't feel like talking but knowing Camille she wouldn't let me be sad all by myself. I changed into something comfortable and I went down to meet her. "Hungry?" she asked while searching my eyes. "I'm not hungry" I said avoiding her eyes. "You are going to eat, she said firmly. I spent hours cooking, so you will eat" She damn well meant every word. I was hesitant I didn't know if I wanted to tell her everything that had occurred today, but I decided to... If something terrible happens to me, I wanted my sister to know. "Justin cheated on me with Peyton" I said it straight away, I didn't want to have to think about it too much. "What???" She snapped " I saw them at the party" I didn't realize when tears started to stream down my cheeks. " I'm so sorry Marissa, that jerk and that bitch never really deserved you." I tried to see if there would be any I told you so moment, but she did none of that. That gave me a bit of a relief. " That's not the only strange thing that happened today." I said and I could see my sister's curious eyes waiting for me to tell her what I meant by that statement. "What other atrocious thing happened Marissa?" " A strange man asked me to marry him" " What ??" She said but this time she wasn't fuming. It sounded more like excitement, "He gave me his number and said to reach out when I am ready." "Soo have you reached out to him?" " Camille please, I'm still nurturing my pain, why would I reach out to a man I don't even know" " Well the man you know, cheated on you so you might as well try." Camille paused. " I didn't mean it like that" I stormed out of the kitchen, by the time I got to my room, my thoughts had betrayed me- drifting me back to the strange man from earlier. He was undeniably handsome, but something about him intrigued me
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8.8
They say tough situations don't last, but tough people do.
They are bloody liars, whoever said that.
My tough situation didn't make me stronger. It pushed me into the arms of Elias Thorne. CEO of Blackwood Holdings. One of the richest men in the country. And, apparently, my fake husband.
I'm just a contract wife. A transaction. He needs me to secure his standing in the company. He hates me and I don't care. I need his money, his influence, his resources, anything to save my mother's and sister's life.
Forty-five days. Then I walk away.
That was the deal.
No love or feelings. Just business.
But a penthouse is smaller than it looks. And forced proximity has a way of cracking open doors you swore you locked up.
He has his own wounds. His own ghosts. And sometimes, when he looks at me, I swear he's not seeing a contract at all.
Forty-five days.
Either we walk away untouched.
Or we burn.
7.7
Eva Brooks, a 25-year-old woman, was set up by her best friend. Her fiancé broke up with her and demanded compensation for allegedly cheating on him.
Eva had a one-night stand with the richest CEO in Dominic City, Ethan Owen. He was arrogant and offered her a job as his secretary.
As his secretary, Ethan couldn't shake his fondness for Eva. He became obsessed with her, worrying that she was cheating on him.
He broke up with his fiancée to become engaged to Eva, but will his fiancée let him go? Will Eva accept a relationship with her boss?
8.1
I was supposed to be the lucky one, the bankrupt Beaumont heiress engaged to Devyn Langley, the golden boy of Boston's elite.
But the moment I landed from Europe, my best friend shoved a high-definition photo in my face. It was Devyn, tangled in white sheets with another woman.
I didn't cry. Instead, I planted hidden cameras in his secret Manhattan penthouse and heard the disgusting truth.
"When are you going to dump that boring bitch?" his mistress whined.
"Soon. As soon as her family's final trust fund payout clears. Then I'll toss her out like trash," Devyn laughed.
To add insult to injury, he removed me from the guest list of his family's charity gala.
When I showed up anyway, his mother pointed a shaking finger at my face in front of the entire upper crust.
"You are a charity case! A beggar! Get out!" she screamed, while Devyn demanded I get on my knees and apologize.
They paraded around like saints, using my family's tragedy for good PR while secretly plotting to steal my last penny and destroy me.
Did they really think I was just a weak, compliant fiancée who would quietly accept her ruin?
Wearing a blood-red dress, I hacked the ballroom's main screen and broadcasted his 4K sex tape to every billionaire and reporter in the room.
Then, I threw my five-carat ring at his chest and walked away with Kian Koch—the most terrifying man on Wall Street—leaving the Langley empire to burn.
7.2
I thought I was just marrying a middle-class commercial pilot who proposed to me in a Brooklyn cemetery to fulfill his grandmother's bizarre dying wish.
But when an arrogant pilot tried to harass me at the airport, my "ordinary" husband suddenly appeared, his eyes like chips of ice.
"Take your hand off my wife."
With that single cold command, he had the airline's top executives groveling and the man practically fired on the spot.
Everyone called him "Mr. Chandler." He handed me an exclusive black Centurion card, claiming it was just a standard "manager's perk." His retired parents, who supposedly ran a small business, visited me wearing Patek Philippe watches. I ignored all the glaring red flags, foolishly believing I had just lucked into a stable, caring marriage after a lifetime of disappointments.
Yet, despite his constant, suffocating generosity, he kept a physical wall between us. After a kiss so desperate and hungry it felt like he had been starving for it his entire life, he violently pushed me away.
"We should take this slow."
I couldn't understand why a man who looked at me with such intense, possessive devotion would treat our marriage like a sterile business deal. Why was he orchestrating every perfect detail of my life while refusing to even share a bed with me?
I had no idea that the man sleeping in the guest room wasn't a pilot at all. He was Harmon Chandler, the ruthless billionaire emperor of the Chandler Group. And he had been secretly monitoring my every move for ten years.
7.1
I was the top commander of a black-ops military program. After slaughtering my way through a hellish mission, I reached the extraction helicopter, trusting my second-in-command to watch my back.
But the moment our hands locked, he didn't pull me up. Instead, he plunged a syringe of lethal neurotoxin directly into my neck.
He aimed his gun at my chest, coldly stating that I was too dangerous to live. My lungs stopped, and I died in a pool of my own blood. But the endless blackness suddenly shattered. My consciousness violently forced its way into a new, broken shell. I woke up in a freezing alley, soaked in muddy rain.
This body belonged to seventeen-year-old Eliza Wyatt. A massive wave of foreign memories crashed into my brain. Her own younger sister had just stood at the top of the stairs with a mocking smile, watching street thugs beat Eliza to death.
"Take good care of the Wyatt family's eldest daughter. Tonight is the night she finally disappears."
The endless humiliation, the cold stares of her family, and the brutal betrayal by her own blood flashed before my eyes. Why was this fragile girl treated like garbage and pushed to her death by the very people who should have protected her?
I looked down at my pale, trembling hands. The top commander was dead, but in this bleeding shell, Eliza Wyatt was very much alive. I picked up a switchblade from the bloody puddle and stood up in the storm. It was time to hunt.
8.9
For fifteen years, I thought my mother had died in a tragic fire.
Then the wealthy Ross family's butler knocked on my door, revealing she was alive—locked away in the psychiatric annex of their massive estate.
I rushed into the lion's den to save her, only to run straight into Graydon Ross, the ruthless billionaire CEO.
He looked at my cheap clothes with pure disgust, convinced I was a bottom-feeding scammer trying to extort his family.
"Throw this bitch out into the snow."
He ordered his armed guards to drag me away, completely cutting off my only chance to see my mentally broken mother.
But as he violently grabbed my collar to throw me out, I saw a custom eagle-head cufflink hanging from his coat pocket.
My blood turned to ice, and a wave of paralyzing terror crashed over me.
Eight months ago, I accidentally slept with a masked stranger in a pitch-black hotel room and fled before dawn.
That cufflink belonged to him.
The man who took my virginity—the Wall Street tyrant I had been hiding from—was Graydon Ross.
If he ever found out I was that woman, he would literally destroy my life.
But to save my mother, I couldn't be thrown out.
When his grandmother suddenly appeared, I dropped to the floor, exposed the dark bruises Graydon had just left on my wrists, and sobbed.
I framed the billionaire for assault to secure my place in the mansion, forcing myself to live right next door to the monster whose bed I had fled.