Engaged To A Coldhearted Murderer

My fiancée smiled as she showed me the "intruder" she had dealt with in the ER. I looked past her to see my mother beaten unconscious on the floor. And on the gurney next to her lay my seven-year-old brother, cold, blue, and dead. Brittnie clung to my arm, beaming with pride. "I handled it, Cannon," she chirped. "That gold digger tried to claim this bastard was your son. But I made sure they wouldn't bother us again." My blood turned to ice. She was holding my mother' s emerald brooch, a family heirloom, convinced it was her engagement ring. Because of her delusion, she had refused to give my brother his EpiPen. She had watched him suffocate to death, thinking she was winning my heart. I looked at Gabe' s lifeless body, then at the woman I was planning to marry. I pulled out my phone and shoved a family photo in her face. "That gold digger is my mother," I whispered, my voice trembling with lethal rage. "And you just murdered my brother."

Chapters

Chapter 4

Eleanora Bryan POV:

"I am his mother!" I insisted, trying to push myself up, my voice hoarse from crying and screaming. "And Gabe is his half-brother! My son!"

Brittnie stared at me, a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes, quickly masked by rage. But before she could respond, the heavy ER doors burst open.

A hulking figure with a shaved head and a brutal, intimidating presence strode into the room. It was Clabe Snow, Brittnie's brother, the hospital's Head of Security. Two burly guards, their hands resting on their holstered weapons, flanked him. They looked like something out of a bad action movie, not a prestigious hospital.

Clabe's eyes, cold and assessing, swept over me, then landed on Gabe's inert form on the gurney. He held up his phone, the camera lens staring at me like a malevolent eye.

"What's the problem here, Brittnie?" Clabe's voice was a low growl, devoid of any warmth.

I was huddled on the floor, bruised and battered, my coat torn, my hair disheveled. I must have looked like a wild animal.

Brittnie immediately softened, adopting a pitiful, injured tone. "Oh, Clabe, thank goodness you're here. This... this woman," she gestured vaguely at me, "she's a stalker. Cannon's secret mistress. She tried to force her way in, claiming this child is his. She's delusional."

My blood ran cold. A stalker? A mistress? My mind reeled.

Clabe's gaze lingered on me, a sneer twisting his lips. "This old hag? Cannon's mistress? Please. He has better taste than that." He turned to Brittnie, a possessive glint in his eye. "You should know, sis. You're the only woman for Cannon."

He spat the words "old hag" like venom. The guards behind him chuckled.

"She's trying to manipulate him, Clabe," Brittnie continued, her voice dripping with false concern. "She probably thinks this... boy... will get her a payout. She's a gold digger."

A gold digger? My head swam. I'd raised Cannon alone, sacrificing everything for his education, his future. Now I was a gold digger?

Brittnie' s eyes met mine, a triumphant, malicious glint in them. She knew she had me.

Clabe gave a dismissive wave of his hand. "Alright, Brittnie. What do you want me to do with this... distraction?"

Brittnie's smile widened, a truly terrifying sight. She strolled towards me, stopping just inches away. She leaned down, her voice a chilling whisper. "Cannon called me this morning, complaining about his mother. Said she was getting difficult." She paused, letting the words sink in. "He said he wished she'd just... disappear."

My breath hitched. Cannon would never. He loved me.

Brittnie straightened, her voice regaining its sugary sweetness. "But I'm a kind woman, Eleanora. I'm willing to overlook your... indiscretion. For Cannon's sake."

She reached out, grabbing a handful of my hair, yanking my head back. My scalp screamed in protest.

"You're going to record a video for me," she hissed, her eyes burning with triumph. "You're going to confess everything. That you're Cannon's secret mistress. That this boy isn't his. That you're a homewrecker, trying to break up our engagement."

My mind screamed in protest. Humiliation. Public shaming. Everything I held dear, reduced to this.

"No!" I cried, struggling against her grip. "I won't! This is insane!"

She tightened her grip, her fingers digging into my scalp. "Oh, you will. Or your little 'son' here," she gestured to Gabe, who lay motionless on the gurney, "will simply... stop breathing. And it will be your fault."

Her face was inches from mine, her breath cold and venomous. "You'll tell the camera that you apologize for trying to ruin Cannon and Brittnie's beautiful relationship. You'll say you'll never bother him again. And you'll hand over that brooch as a sign of your repentance."

The brooch, still clutched in her fist, flashed under the harsh lights. It was her leverage. Her twisted trophy.

"Do it," Clabe barked, his phone still aimed at me, recording my humiliation. "Or the kid gets no help."

My eyes darted to Gabe. He was so still. Too still. His chest barely rose and fell. His small hand, which had gripped mine so tightly just hours ago, lay limp on the sheet.

My stomach churned. My pride, my dignity, my entire being screamed in protest. But Gabe. My baby.

Continue to next part

To save my family's dying company, I was forced to marry a billionaire I hadn't seen in fourteen years. But right outside the City Clerk's office, he tossed our marriage certificate at me like a cheap receipt and shoved a four-year-old boy into my arms. "Your new life has begun. You're on babysitting duty now." He sneered and left me stranded on the sidewalk. I realized with absolute horror that my new husband was Ellsworth Marshall, the sickly boy I had relentlessly bullied in middle school. He didn't spend five billion dollars to save the Bradford family. He bought me to execute a slow, suffocating revenge. He used his orphaned nephew as a pawn, explicitly threatening my father that if I failed to play the perfect, compliant nanny, he would instantly destroy our family's legacy. He even had his guards lock me out of his Long Island estate on my first night, forcing me to stand in the cold dark just to prove he owned me. I was trapped in a gilded cage, suffocated by the guilt of my past and the terror of my present. Why did he involve an innocent child in his twisted vendetta? How much humiliation was enough to pay for my childhood cruelty? Looking at the terrified little boy clinging to my skirt, I tightened my grip on my suitcase. If he wanted to destroy my will piece by piece, I had to find a way to survive the monster I created.

Horror Modern Romance

8.2

Falling For My Dead Husband's Ghost

8.2

To save my brother's life, I married a dead billionaire. My new home was a freezing, high-tech mausoleum where I was ordered to hold a year-long vigil beside Byron Hyde's cryogenic pod. But I wasn't alone in the dark. Every night, a terrifying shadow smelling of whiskey and sandalwood pinned me to my narrow bed. It tore my clothes and brutally claimed my body, leaving me bruised and trembling until dawn. When I begged the housekeeper for help, showing her my torn skin, she just smiled cruelly. "It seems the master's spirit has accepted you." I thought I was being haunted by a vengeful ghost, until Byron's arrogant nephew broke into the tomb to assault me. His tampering triggered the life-support system, and the heavy lid of the pod hissed open. Byron Hyde sat up, his eyes lethal and his skin shockingly warm. He was alive. Looking at his broad shoulders, I caught the faint scent of whiskey and sandalwood. The horrific truth hit me like a physical blow. My nightly tormentor wasn't a ghost. It was my living, breathing husband. When I confronted him, his eyes were cold and clinical. "That was a necessary test. I had to know if my wife would break." A white-hot rage choked me, but I didn't scream or run. He slipped the priceless, heavy sapphire of the family matriarch onto my finger, offering me absolute power over the treacherous relatives who wanted us both dead. To fight a monster, you can't be a victim. I looked into his deep, dangerous eyes and accepted the ring. If this was a cage, allying with the keeper was the only way to find the key.

Horror Modern Romance

9.6

My Death, His Ultimate Downfall

9.6

For a decade, I was the perfect wife to tech mogul Carson Jarvis. I cleaned up every scandal and endured every affair, trapped by my father's "poison pill" inheritance clause that would leave me with nothing if I divorced him. His latest mistress was pregnant, but that wasn't what finally broke me. It was when he shut down our mansion's power grid for their tryst-and turned off my grandmother's life support. He murdered her. At a charity auction days later, he paraded his new love while she announced her pregnancy. When I confronted her for stealing my money, Carson watched as his guards broke my arm, leaving me bleeding on the floor while he comforted her. He thought I was his unbreakable wife, a possession with nowhere else to go. He expected me to clean up this mess, just like all the others. He was wrong. As I watched him shield her during the chaos of an explosion I secretly arranged, I knew my old life was over. Tonight, the world would learn of my death. And with it, Carson Jarvis would lose everything.

Horror Modern Romance

9.7

Once His Nightmare, Now His Employee

9.7

He thought he had his life figured out until the boy he buried in the past walked back in. Dorian Keene was once the golden boy of high school-famous, feared, and cruel. And Caspian Vale? Just the quiet nerd with a birthmark... and a target on his back. But beneath Dorian's bullying lay a truth he couldn't face: he was terrified of how much he wanted the boy he was supposed to hate. Years later, Dorian's world is in shambles. Penniless, grieving, and sick, he lands a miracle job working under a Tech Mogul who turns out to be none other than Caspian. Only this Caspian is powerful, untouchable... and very much engaged to a woman. Dorian tries to keep his distance. Caspian, for all appearances, is straight. But fate has a twisted sense of humor, and buried sparks are reignited-this time under the harsh light of adulthood, secrets, and slow-blooming desire neither man can afford. As Dorian's hidden illness grows deadlier, and Caspian's mask begins to crack, a single kiss will force them to ask: Can a man who thought he was straight handle the truth of who he's always been... before it's too late?

Horror LGBT+Mystery Young Adult

9.3

Possessed by the Mafia Don

9.3

When her father's PTSD leads to a tragic accident, Aria Moretti does the unthinkable-she surrenders herself to Nico Romano, the ruthless man her father wronged. Known as the cold and feared ruler of Chicago's underworld, Nico is a man no one crosses and lives to tell the story. To him, Aria is a debt he intends to collect in full. But she isn't the fragile girl he expects.

Horror Mafia Modern

9.8

Runaway Nurse: The Mafia King's Remorse

9.8

For seven years, I served as the eyes for Dante Vitiello, the blind Capo of New York. I pulled him back from the edge of madness, tending to his wounds and warming his bed when everyone else had given up on him. But the moment his vision returned, the years of devotion turned to ash. In a single phone call, he decided to marry Sofia Moretti for territory, dismissing me as just "the maid's daughter" and a "comfort" he intended to keep as a mistress. He forced me to watch him court her. At a gala, when a chaotic accident caused a tower of champagne glasses to shatter, Dante threw his body over Sofia to protect her. He left me standing there, bleeding from the glass shards, while he carried her away like she was porcelain. He didn't even look back at the woman who had saved his life. I realized then that I had worshipped a broken god. I had given him my dignity, only for him to treat me like a disposable bandage now that he was whole. He arrogantly believed I would stay in the penthouse, grateful for his scraps. So, while he was out celebrating his engagement, I met with his mother. I signed the severance agreement for fifty million dollars. I packed my bags, wiped my phone, and boarded a one-way flight to Australia. By the time Dante came home to an empty bed, realized his mistake, and began tearing the city apart to find me, I was already a ghost.

Horror Mafia Modern

Engaged To A Coldhearted Murderer

Chapter 4

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