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Contract With A Monster: The Heiress's Revenge Novel Cover

Contract With A Monster: The Heiress's Revenge

It was my birthday, but instead of celebrating, I was bleeding on the floor of my own bedroom. My sister Serena had just smashed a champagne bottle over my legs, her eyes filled with a dark madness because our father allowed me to wear the family diamonds. To escape her, I bolted into a pitch-black guest suite, only to be grabbed by a man who felt like a wall of solid muscle. He was drugged, unstable, and pinned me against the wall, his teeth sinking into my neck in a primal claim that left a permanent mark. I managed to flee, but the nightmare was just beginning. My father didn't care about my injuries; he only cared that I had "insulted" the man in that room—Delos French, the most powerful CEO in New York. He threatened to stop paying for my mother’s critical care facility unless I went to Delos and begged for his forgiveness. My brother Julian was even worse, intentionally pouring scalding coffee over my bandaged wounds just to see me flinch. They forced me into a revealing gold dress, treating me like a high-priced commodity to be sold to the highest bidder to save their failing company. I didn't understand how the people who were supposed to love me could be more predatory than the monster in the dark. I had spent my life fixing their scandals, yet they were ready to throw me to the wolves the moment I became useful as a pawn. But when I stood before Delos French at his gala, he didn't see a trophy. He recognized my scent, my touch, and the fire in my eyes. He trapped me in his private lounge, kneeling to clean the blood from my injured feet. "Marry me," he whispered, his voice a low, terrifying growl. "And I will give you the power to burn your family to the ground." I looked into the eyes of the man who had hunted me and realized he was the only one offering me a weapon to destroy the people who had broken me. "Okay," I whispered.
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Chapter 4

The air in Richard's study was stale, smelling of old paper and desperation.

Eve stood by the bookshelf, organizing files. Her hands were busy, but her mind was racing. She needed a way to deflect attention. Julian kept glancing at her, his suspicion a physical weight in the room.

Julian walked over to her. He pretended to reach for a binder, his hand covering hers on the shelf. His skin was clammy.

"Don't think I've forgotten," he murmured. "You're hiding something. Who was he?"

Eve yanked her hand away. She grabbed a heavy law book and held it to her chest like a shield. "Back off, Julian."

Richard slammed the phone down on the receiver. "They won't extend. We're dead in the water."

Eve took a breath. This was it. The gamble.

"Father," she said. Her voice was clear, cutting through the tension. "I think I know why French is targeting us."

Richard spun around. "What?"

Eve reached into her pocket. She pulled out a scrap of fabric she had found in the hallway that morning-a piece of torn lace from Serena's dress.

"Last night," Eve said, her eyes steady, "I was walking near the guest wing when I saw Serena. She was trying to get into one of the suites. She was... incoherent."

She didn't say she was there. She didn't say she went inside. She let the implication hang in the air like smoke.

"The guest wing?" Richard's eyes narrowed. "That's where French was staying."

"I also know there's a blind spot in the security cameras in that specific hallway," Eve continued, the lie smooth and practiced. "A fact I'm sure Serena is well aware of. If she tried to... force herself on him while he was incapacitated..."

The color drained from Richard's face. "That idiot girl."

"Bring her in!" Richard bellowed at the door.

Moments later, the housekeeper dragged Serena in. She was hungover, pale, and confused. She was still wearing her robe.

"What is going on?" Serena whined.

"Did you go to French's room last night?" Richard demanded.

"I... I don't remember," Serena stammered. "I was drinking."

"You stupid, selfish girl!" Richard crossed the room in two strides.

Crack.

The sound of his hand connecting with Serena's face echoed off the mahogany walls.

Serena crumbled to the floor, sobbing. "Daddy, stop!"

"You ruined us!" Richard kicked her in the hip. "You went whoring after him and insulted him!"

Julian rushed forward, grabbing Richard's arm. "Dad, stop! She's bleeding!"

Eve stood in the corner. She didn't flinch. She watched her sister curl into a ball, watched her father lose control. It was cruel. It was ugly.

But it wasn't her.

"Get her out of my sight," Richard panted, straightening his tie. "Send her to the clinic. Dry her out. I don't want to see her face until this deal is signed."

The housekeeper helped a sobbing Serena out of the room.

Richard turned to Eve. His eyes were cold, assessing.

"Since you're the only one who knows how to clean up a mess," he said, "you're going to fix this. You'll finish the bid."

"I will," Eve said.

"And you'll deliver it," Richard added. "Personally. You'll go to the French Media gala tomorrow and you will beg for his forgiveness on behalf of your sister."

Eve's stomach dropped. "Me?"

"Yes. You. You're the only one he hasn't seen yet."

Eve looked down at her hands. He hadn't seen her face. But he had touched her. He had tasted her blood.

"Yes, Father," she whispered.

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