Contract Marriage With The Genius Heiress
Alysia lay on the freezing operating table, moments away from donating her kidney to her brother's fiancée.
But as the anesthesia set in, a violent shock tore through her brain, awakening agonizing memories of a thousand brutal deaths across a thousand past lifetimes.
She suddenly realized her family's true plan. Her brother and his fiancée weren't just taking her organ; they were secretly plotting to declare her mentally unfit post-surgery to steal her entire trust fund.
When Alysia abruptly stopped the procedure and exposed the fiancée's kidney failure as the result of severe drug abuse, her family's reaction was chilling.
Her father didn't care about the truth or the law. He ordered his bodyguards to lock Alysia up until she agreed to the surgery, while her brother threatened to freeze her assets and seize her late mother's penthouse.
"You have no heart, Alysia. You don't deserve the Kent name," her aunt spat in disgust.
For lifetimes, she had kept her head down, taking the blame and sacrificing everything for a family that viewed her as nothing more than a disposable blood bag and a financial pawn.
The resignation that had clouded her eyes for so long vanished, replaced by the absolute, zero-degree cold of a glacier.
Ripping the IV from her hand and leaving her family in stunned silence, Alysia walked straight out of the hospital.
She had exactly forty-six hours to find a husband to secure her inheritance, and she knew exactly which ruthless billionaire CEO to target to help her burn the Kent family to the ground.
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Chapter 2
Three days later.
Alysia pushed open the heavy oak doors of the Kent family estate in Long Island.
The warm, joyful chatter of the family dinner died the second she stepped into the dining room.
Sitting at the head of the long mahogany table, her father, Gladstone Kent, slammed his crystal wine glass down.
The red liquid sloshed over the rim, staining the white tablecloth.
Kaden shot up from his chair.
A white gauze pad was taped to his forehead, and his right arm was in a heavy cast.
"You ungrateful bitch!" Kaden roared, pointing his good hand at her.
Crystal sat next to him in her wheelchair.
She immediately started coughing, a harsh, wet sound.
Her fingers dug into Kaden's sleeve, pulling at the fabric.
"Don't fight with her, Kaden," Crystal whimpered, tears spilling over her cheeks. "It's not worth tearing the family apart for me."
An older aunt at the end of the table shook her head in disgust.
"You have no heart, Alysia. You don't deserve the Kent name."
Alysia ignored the noise.
She walked past them, her posture perfectly aligned, and pulled out an empty chair near the center of the table.
She sat down, crossing her legs, looking more like the master of the house than anyone else in the room.
Gladstone slammed his fist on the table.
"Get on your knees and apologize to Crystal right now!" he ordered. "I will call the hospital and reschedule the surgery for tomorrow morning."
Alysia picked up a glass of sparkling water from the table.
She swirled the ice cubes slowly.
"Are you aware, Father, of the felony charges associated with forced organ harvesting in the state of New York?"
Gladstone's face turned purple.
He choked on his words, his chest heaving.
"This is family sacrifice! This has nothing to do with the law!"
Kaden sneered and walked toward her.
He pulled a folded document from his jacket pocket and threw it onto the table in front of her.
"Sign the consent form, or I freeze every single credit card in your name tonight."
Alysia didn't even glance at the paper.
She reached into her purse and pulled out a handful of black titanium credit cards.
They were all cut cleanly in half.
She tossed them into the air.
The heavy plastic and metal pieces rained down, hitting Kaden in the face and chest.
Kaden flinched, his jaw twitching violently.
He raised his left fist, stepping into her space.
Alysia looked up at him.
Her gaze was so hollow, so devoid of fear, that Kaden's fist froze in mid-air.
"The money I've generated for this family's shell companies over the last three years far exceeds the limits on those cards," Alysia said flatly. "You owe me."
Crystal sobbed louder, shifting the attention back to herself.
"I have three months to live without that kidney! How can you watch me die?"
Alysia leaned forward.
She rested her elbows on the table and locked eyes with Crystal.
"Private yacht. Miami. Last month," Alysia whispered, her voice carrying just enough for Crystal to hear.
Crystal stopped crying instantly.
Her breathing hitched, and her fingers spasmed against her chest.
Alysia sat back up and looked at her father.
"Crystal's kidney failure isn't genetic. It's the result of chronic, severe abuse of illicit narcotics."
The dining room erupted in gasps.
Gladstone stared at Crystal, his eyes wide. "Explain this."
Kaden stepped in front of Crystal, shielding her.
"She's lying! She's making it up to save her own skin!"
Alysia reached into her bag one last time.
She pulled out a thick stack of papers bearing the official watermark of Johns Hopkins Hospital. "This isn't a new document. I secured this digital backup during one of my previous loops, long before she could scrub her medical history."
She slapped the printed toxicology report onto the center of the dining table.
The uncle sitting closest to the papers picked them up.
His eyes scanned the highlighted lines, and his face dropped.
He slid the report down the table to Gladstone.
Gladstone read the numbers.
His hands started to shake.
He looked up, glaring at the woman he had been ready to sacrifice his own daughter for.
Crystal slipped out of her wheelchair, collapsing onto the hardwood floor.
She wrapped her arms around Kaden's legs.
"It's fake! Kaden, you have to believe me, she forged it!"
Kaden looked down at Crystal, doubt flashing in his eyes.
But the Holloway family merger depended on this marriage.
He gritted his teeth and glared at Alysia.
"It's a forgery. And if you walk out that door today, you forfeit the Manhattan penthouse in mother's trust fund."
The temperature in Alysia's blood dropped to absolute zero.
She stood up.
Her chair scraped loudly against the floor.
"If you touch one brick of my mother's apartment," Alysia said, her voice a deadly hum, "I will burn this Long Island estate to the ground while you sleep in it."
Gladstone stood up, trying to reclaim his authority.
"Guards! Lock her in the guest room upstairs until she agrees to the surgery!"
Two massive bodyguards stepped out from the shadows of the hallway, moving toward Alysia.
Alysia didn't run.
She reached up and pulled the sharp metal hairpin from her updo.
Her hair tumbled down her back.
Before the first bodyguard could grab her arm, she lunged. She didn't aim for a kill shot, but jabbed the hairpin into the nerve cluster behind his ear. The man's arm went numb and dropped, his face a mask of shocked pain. The second guard paused, stunned by the unexpected, vicious attack.
The room gasped in horror.
Alysia pushed the massive man aside with her free hand.
She didn't look back as she walked out the front door, leaving the Kent family choking on their own ruin.
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7.9
Elena Crane wakes up in a hospital bed after barely surviving a resort fire, only to discover the devastating truth. The kidney she donated to her husband Leo three days ago wasn't for him. It was for his mistress, Lydia. Worse, she overhears Leo instructing a doctor to kill her within five days and make it look like surgical complications so he can collect two hundred million dollars in life insurance. Their entire five year marriage was an elaborate scheme to steal her organs and murder her for money.
What Leo and Lydia don't know is that Elena is actually Roberta Alfred, the legendary jewelry designer and billionaire heiress who abandoned her empire for love. After enduring multiple murder attempts, including being locked in a morgue and losing her uterus to forced hysterectomy, Elena escapes. She divorces Leo, claims the insurance money herself, and returns home to reclaim her identity and her family's billion dollar empire.
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.
8.4
Kathern was forced out of her sister's home by her abusive brother-in-law, who violently demanded she pay half the rent or get out.
To protect her sister from his rage, Kathern agreed to a six-month paper marriage with a stranger—an old woman's grandson, Bronson—in exchange for a simple apartment.
But her new husband treated her like a scheming gold digger from the very first second.
He showed up to City Hall in a cheap suit, shoved a brutal prenup in her face, and dumped her in a completely empty, dust-filled apartment.
"Just don't cause any trouble," he warned coldly, before leaving her alone.
When Kathern politely texted him to ask if he was coming home for dinner, he immediately blocked her number.
Kathern was furious and baffled. She didn't want a dime of his money, nor did she care about his boring middle-management job.
She had only agreed to this marriage for a place to sleep, yet this arrogant man treated her like absolute garbage.
Refusing to swallow the insult, Kathern immediately dialed his grandmother to expose his behavior.
She was going to build her own independent life, completely unaware that her "cheap corporate loser" of a husband was actually the ruthless billionaire CEO of the Vaughan empire.
8.8
On the eve of my glamorous Waldorf Astoria wedding, I went to the penthouse to surprise my fiancé, Hugh, wearing my late mother's heirloom pearls.
Instead, I heard my stepsister's familiar laugh and caught them tangled together on the sofa.
Through the cracked door, I heard Hugh slur that he was only marrying me for my family's financial backing.
"As soon as I secure my inheritance, she's the first thing I'm getting rid of," he promised her.
Floy giggled and asked for my mother's pearl necklace, my only legacy. Hugh agreed without hesitation, mocking my dead mother's naivety and my desperate dreams of building a family.
Every sweet word he had ever said was a lie, a knife he had been patiently sliding between my ribs for years. They planned to strip me of everything the moment I signed the prenup.
I didn't cry or scream. The crushing weight of their betrayal hollowed me out, leaving behind a terrifying, absolute calm.
Why should I be the one to lose everything while they stole my future and insulted my mother's memory?
I calmly walked down the hall, set the prenuptial agreement on fire, and vanished into the rainy night.
If Hugh wanted to play dirty for the Maxwell empire, I would play for keeps.
Using a forgotten, century-old family covenant, I was going to marry Hugh's uncle-the comatose, paralyzed war hero, Fleet Maxwell.
I would return not as a naive bride, but as their worst nightmare: his aunt, and the new lady of the house.
9.1
June woke up transmigrated into the body of a ruthless billionaire's toxic, disposable wife.
Before she could even process the massive Beverly Hills mansion, a cold system voice announced she had exactly five minutes of lifespan remaining.
To survive, she was forced to bind with the system and strictly maintain the original owner's "brainless, abusive drama queen" persona to earn hours to live.
She was forced to violently slap hot coffee out of a terrified maid's hands and physically spank her manipulative five-year-old stepson.
When she tried to escape this nightmare by throwing divorce papers at her terrifying husband, Isaac Walton, he simply ripped them to shreds.
Every time she tried to be reasonable or show a hint of kindness, the system tortured her with agonizing cardiac pain, cementing her status as the most hated monster in the family.
The most absurd part happened when she threw a hysterical, system-mandated tantrum over a gossip magazine, and Isaac's icy demeanor suddenly melted.
He gently touched her hair, offering the one thing she desperately needed.
"Stop crying. I'll handle it."
Just as a spark of hope ignited in her chest, the system's critical death warning exploded in her skull: accepting his sympathy would instantly deduct thirty days of her life.
To stay alive, June had no choice but to violently slap away the only hand reaching out to save her, forcing herself to play the greedy villain while her husband's gaze turned dangerously dark.
7.5
I am the biological daughter of the wealthy Fitzpatrick family, but I spent my childhood eating out of dumpsters.
When I was finally brought back to the estate at age seven, I thought I would experience my parents' love.
Instead, my biological parents looked at my dirty clothes with raw disgust. They only cared about Hallie, the fake daughter who lived like a princess.
The moment I walked in, Hallie hurled a heavy ceramic cup at my head, slicing my hand open.
"Get out of my house!"
My father didn't even look at the blood. He raised his hand to strike me, accusing me of bringing trailer park rules into his home.
In my past life, I dropped to my knees and begged for their forgiveness. I endured their abuse, hoping they would eventually love me.
But they let the maids humiliate me, let Hallie steal my identity, and eventually threw me back onto the streets to die. Even my playboy Uncle Byron, the only person who ever showed me mercy, was driven to suicide by them.
I didn't understand why my own flesh and blood hated me so much, or why a vicious liar deserved everything while I was treated like a jinx.
Opening my eyes again, I was back on the exact day I first returned to the estate.
As my father raised his hand to hit me, I didn't cower.
Instead, I looked at the family patriarch and pointed directly at my notorious, alcoholic uncle.
"I want him to be my new guardian."