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.

Chapters

Chapter 9

Eve pulled her hand back as if she had been burned.

"No," she said quickly. "No, sir."

Delos didn't break eye contact. He opened the folder, but he wasn't reading. He was breathing.

He took a subtle breath in.

Under the heavy scent of the room, there it was. A faint trace of vanilla and jasmine.

He looked at the diamond choker around her neck. It was tight. Aggressive.

"That's a bold piece of jewelry, Miss...?"

"Harmon," Eve supplied, her hand instinctively flying to her neck. "Eve Harmon."

"Eve," Delos repeated. He didn't believe her.

He snapped the folder shut. He turned to Marcus.

"This proposal," Delos said, tapping the blue file. "It's the only intelligent thing I've seen today. Vet it."

Richard let out a sound that was half-sob, half-laugh. "Thank you! Thank you, Delos!"

Delos ignored him. He looked at Eve one last time.

"You have a very... distinct perfume," he said.

Eve felt the floor sway beneath her. "It's common. Drugstore brand."

"I don't think so."

Delos turned and walked out.

Eve grabbed the back of a chair to steady herself. She felt like she had just run a marathon.

"You did it!" Julian grabbed her shoulder, shaking her. "He took it! What did you say to him?"

"Let go of me," Eve whispered.

"He liked you," Julian said, his eyes gleaming with a new, gross idea. "He couldn't take his eyes off you."

"I need air."

Eve pushed past him. She limped out of the conference room and headed for the terrace. She needed cold air. She needed to escape.

She stood on the balcony, gripping the railing. The New York wind whipped her hair.

She had survived. He hadn't recognized her. Not fully.

The glass door behind her slid open.

Eve turned, expecting Julian.

It was Marcus.

He blocked the exit. He wasn't smiling.

"Miss Harmon," Marcus said. "Mr. French would like a word."

Eve's heart stopped. "I... I have to go. My father is waiting."

"Mr. Harmon has already been informed," Marcus said. "He was very eager for you to accept the invitation."

Of course he was. Richard would sell her to the devil for a stock option.

"Where?" Eve asked, her voice barely a whisper.

"His private lounge. This way."

Marcus held the door open. It wasn't a request. It was a summons.

Eve walked past him. She felt like a prisoner walking to the gallows.

They walked down a private corridor, away from the noise of the party. The carpet was thick, muffling her footsteps.

Marcus stopped in front of a heavy mahogany door. He knocked once, then opened it.

"After you."

Eve stepped inside.

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Forced into a cold marriage of convenience to settle a debt, Elena finds herself bound to the ruthless underworld sovereign, Lorenzo. As she navigates a world of lethal power plays and betrayal, she discovers that her husband’s icy exterior hides a dangerous passion. Elena must survive the violent crossfire of rival families while deciding if she can truly love the monster who bought her. Their union is a war where the heart is the ultimate prize.

Action Mafia Romance

8.2

From Savior to Seducer

8.2

After a harrowing kidnapping, quiet heiress Elara is rescued by Jaxson, a ruthless billionaire with a mysterious past. While safety seems assured, a new danger emerges as their forced proximity ignites an undeniable, intense attraction. Elara must navigate a world of high-stakes corporate warfare and physical threats while deciphering Jaxson’s true intentions. As secrets surface, she finds herself falling for the man who saved her life.

Action Billionaire Romance

8.4

Jilted At City Hall, Married A Zillionaire

8.4

I stood in front of New York City Hall in my vintage lace wedding dress, my heart pounding with a nervous joy. I was minutes away from marrying Bradford Sterling, a move I thought would finally help me reclaim my mother’s legacy from my family’s crumbling empire. But as I reached for his arm, he flinched. A black Lincoln Navigator screeched to the curb, and his mother, Victoria, stepped out, slamming a restructuring document against his chest. She didn't even look at me as she delivered the killing blow: my sister, Eden, had just seized every cent of my voting rights and family trust. "Marrying her is a net negative yield," Victoria said coldly. Bradford didn't fight for me; he didn't even blink. He simply pushed my hand away and adjusted his tie as if I were a junk bond he was ready to offload. Seconds later, my sister Eden arrived in a red Ferrari, wearing her own bridal gown, and stepped into my place by his side. I was standing on the pavement, humiliated in front of a crowd, while the man I loved for three years treated me like a failed transaction. My sister laughed in my face, calling me a "liability" while she stole my wedding and my life. The grief was instant, but the rage that followed was a white-hot rupture in my chest. I didn't just walk away; I slapped the life out of Bradford and dove into the first black SUV I saw, desperate to escape. I didn't check the plates, and I didn't see the man in the wheelchair sitting in the shadows of the backseat. I had just "carjacked" Jefferson Montgomery, the most dangerous billionaire in the city. To save him from a parole violation during a sudden police raid, I agreed to a fake marriage that very night. They wanted to treat me like a negative asset? Fine. They have no idea that they just handed a world-class hacker the keys to the Montgomery fortune, and I’m going to liquidate them all.

Action Modern Romance

7.5

My Marriage: A Million Lies

7.5

My marriage to the cold New York tycoon, Eli Drake, was supposed to be an impossible love story. I was the rebellious artist who had chased him across continents, believing I' d found my soulmate. Then I overheard a conversation that shattered everything. Our three-year marriage was a lie, a charade designed to protect his fragile sister-in-law, Kala. I was just the "lightning rod," strong enough to take the hits meant for her. The worst part? He' d secretly had a vasectomy, letting me endure his family' s scorn for being "barren" while he knew the truth all along. It all clicked into place: the public humiliations, the framed financial crimes, the "accidents" that left me scarred. They systematically broke me, forcing me to give a piece of my own skin to heal Kala and staging a car crash that landed me in prison. Eli' s justification was always the same: "Kala is delicate. Not like you." He thought I was strong enough to take it, that my defiance was a tool he could use. He exiled me, thinking I was broken and forgotten. He was wrong. I reinvented myself as the celebrated artist 'Lark.' And when he came crawling back, begging for forgiveness on a global stage, I knew my moment had come. My revenge would be a masterpiece.

Action Modern Romance

8.1

Revenge Wedding: I Choose The Reaper

8.1

On my wedding day, the wedding planner looked at me with pity in her eyes. She told me the groom had called with a last-minute request. He wanted the name on the floral arch changed from "Elena" to "Sofia." Five years of loyalty to Dante Romero, and I found out he was planning a "secret" ceremony with his mistress an hour before ours. He claimed she was dying of cancer. He said it was her final wish to be a bride, and that as a good mafia wife, I should understand. He swore it was just charity. But I had seen the texts where he called me "furniture." I had watched him step over my body when I fell down the stairs at a club, just so he could leave with her. And this morning, I watched Sofia walk into the hotel lobby wearing *my* custom French lace wedding dress, smirking as she clung to his arm. Dante thinks I'm crying in the bridal suite. He thinks I will sit in the front row of his "fake" wedding and wait for my turn like a dutiful puppet. He is wrong. I wiped my tears and picked up my phone. I didn't cancel the wedding date. I just changed the location to the ballroom next door. And I changed the groom. As Dante says his vows to his mistress, I am walking down the aisle to meet the only man the Romero family fears. The Reaper.

Action Modern Romance

7.8

The Discarded Wife's Revenge On The Don

7.8

I stood outside the mahogany doors, balancing a tray of espresso, when I heard my husband promise his sister that my reign as the Queen of Chicago was over. I thought being the Don's wife meant safety. I was wrong. In a warehouse reeking of rust, faced with an ultimatum from our enemies to choose who lives, Brennan made his choice. "Alyssa is strong," he justified, shielding his mistress, Debbi, who was faking a pregnancy. "She knows the life." He walked out into the sunlight with her, leaving me in the dark with a gun to my head. He abandoned me to be tortured and murdered by his rivals, weaponizing my resilience to absolve his guilt. He thought I died that day. He even mourned me after he eventually found out Debbi was a traitor. But he didn't know the new security guard was an undercover FBI agent who pulled me from the edge. Two years later, I've built a quiet life running a bistro in Maine under a new name. But then the bell above the door chimes during the lunch rush. I look up, and there he is. The husband who sacrificed me. He's looking at me not with guilt, but with a terrifying, obsessive hope. He says he burned down the world to fix his mistake. He says he won't let me go again. I smile, but my hand is already reaching for the wire the FBI gave me. I'm not a wife anymore, Brennan. I'm the executioner.

Action Mafia Romance

Contract With A Monster: The Heiress's Revenge

Chapter 9

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