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Discarded By Him, Claimed By The Zillionaire Novel Cover

Discarded By Him, Claimed By The Zillionaire

I was Landon Mercer's secret girlfriend and loyal assistant for four years. I thought my absolute devotion would eventually win his heart. But he casually announced his engagement to a wealthy heiress, reminding me I was just a convenient nobody from an orphanage. When I got trapped in a horrific car crash and begged him to call an ambulance, he just hung up on me, annoyed that my bleeding was ruining his romantic getaway. He even blackmailed me with my orphanage's land lease, forcing me to attend his engagement party as a prop. At the party, his elite family and friends brutally humiliated me. They deliberately crushed my broken arm, poured red wine over my head, and kicked me into a freezing pond. When Landon finally pulled me out, he didn't care that I was suffocating and turning blue. "Are you out of your mind? You come out here and cause a scene during my engagement party?" He threw a stack of cash at my shivering body, furious that I had embarrassed him in front of his wealthy guests. Looking at the hundred-dollar bills floating in the muddy water, my four years of foolish love completely died. To him, I wasn't even human; I was just a cheap toy he could abuse and pass around. I didn't cry, and I didn't beg. I dragged my soaked, battered body into a car and headed straight to the penthouse of his biggest billionaire rival. It was time to burn Landon Mercer's world to the ground.
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Chapter 3

Vivian drove the Range Rover onto the I-90 interstate. The sky above Boston suddenly cracked open, unleashing a torrential downpour.

The windshield wipers slapped back and forth at maximum speed, but the sheets of rain made visibility almost zero. The heavy tires of the SUV hydroplaned slightly on the pooling water.

Her brain felt completely detached from her body. The image of Landon kissing Whitney's neck in the backseat played on a continuous, sickening loop behind her eyes.

She shook her head hard. She blinked rapidly, trying to focus on the blurry red taillights of a semi-truck miles ahead of her.

Suddenly, a dark shape darted out from the concrete median. It was impossible to tell if it was a stray dog or debris, but it was directly in her path.

Vivian's survival instinct kicked in. She yanked the steering wheel hard to the right.

The tires shrieked against the slick asphalt.

A massive centrifugal force threw her body sideways. The seatbelt locked instantly, slicing into her collarbone with a blinding flash of pain.

The Range Rover spun out of control. The front bumper slammed head-on into the solid concrete barrier. The deafening crunch of tearing metal and shattering glass filled the cabin.

The steering wheel airbag exploded outward. It punched Vivian square in the face. Her vision went completely black.

Minutes later, the freezing rain poured in through the shattered driver's side window. The icy water hit Vivian's face, dragging her back to consciousness.

She coughed violently. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth. The thick, nauseating stench of raw gasoline burned her nostrils.

She tried to move her legs. Panic shot through her nervous system. The entire dashboard had collapsed inward, pinning both of her shins in a crush of plastic and steel. She couldn't pull them out.

Warm blood dripped from a gash on her forehead, running directly into her left eye. The world took on a horrifying, blurry red tint.

Her chest heaved. She reached her shaking, blood-slicked right hand toward the passenger seat debris.

Her fingers brushed against her phone. The screen was spider-webbed with cracks, but the backlight was still glowing.

She swiped the screen and hit the most recent contact in her call log. Landon.

The phone rang. Each ring felt like an eternity. Just as it was about to go to voicemail, the line clicked open. The background noise of a private airport lounge filtered through the speaker.

"Landon," Vivian gasped. Her voice broke into a desperate sob. "I got into a crash. I'm trapped in the car."

There was two seconds of dead silence on the line.

"Are you seriously pulling this stunt right now?" Landon's voice was laced with heavy irritation.

"No, please," Vivian cried, struggling against the crushed dashboard. "I smell gas. The car might catch fire. Please call an ambulance."

Through the receiver, Whitney's whiny voice echoed clearly. Landon, they're waiting for us to board.

Landon's tone dropped to absolute zero. "Do not use these cheap, pathetic tactics to ruin my weekend, Vivian."

"Landon, I'm bleeding! Please just call 911!" Vivian screamed, her throat tearing with the effort.

"Handle the company car yourself," Landon said coldly.

The line went dead.

The dial tone buzzed in Vivian's ear. It felt like a physical hammer smashing the last fragile piece of her soul into dust.

The cracked phone screen flickered, sparked once from the rainwater, and went completely black. Her only lifeline was gone.

Thunder rolled across the dark highway. Vivian slumped back against the blood-stained leather seat. A hollow, chilling laugh ripped out of her chest.

She stopped pulling at her trapped legs. She let the freezing rain wash over her open wounds. The hatred for Landon Mercer crystallized in her veins, turning her blood to ice.

Her vision began to tunnel. Just as she was about to pass out again, the piercing wail of sirens cut through the storm.

A blinding white spotlight pierced the rain, illuminating the crushed hood of the Range Rover. Men in neon yellow reflective vests sprinted toward her door.

Vivian's eyes fluttered shut. In the final second before darkness took her, she heard a paramedic shouting into a radio.

"Call Mass General! Tell them to prep for a severe trauma incoming!"

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