Escaping Into The Dangerous Devil's Arms
My father ordered me to marry into the cursed Vaughn family.
Their heirs were rumored to die young from a mysterious genetic agony. My sister Kayden laughed, saying she wasn't going to waste her youth planning a funeral. So, I became the sacrificial lamb.
When I refused, my father slammed his hand on the table and threatened to throw my dead mother's ashes into the city dump.
"You are a struggling actress with no money and no power. You have no choice," he told me coldly.
To make matters worse, my own agent drugged my drink at a business dinner, trying to sell my body to a sleazy investor just to secure project funding.
I was completely cornered, suffocating under the weight of their cruelty. I couldn't understand how my own flesh and blood could be so vicious, treating me like a worthless pawn to be traded and discarded.
But none of them knew that while escaping the drug-laced dinner, I crashed directly into the terrifying Vaughn heir, Algot.
When his glowing crimson eyes locked onto me during a violent episode of his cursed pain, we discovered an impossible truth: my physical touch was the only cure for his agony.
Looking at the dark bruises he accidentally left on my neck, I chose not to run. Instead, I pulled out the private business card he gave me and dialed his number.
"You need me," I whispered to the dangerous billionaire. "And I am going to use you to destroy them all."
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Chapter 2
Gianna stood on the sidewalk outside the upscale restaurant. The night air was chilly, but she was sweating under her thin jacket.
Dani Haynes, her agent, grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the heavy glass doors.
"Smile, Gianna," Dani hissed. Her nails dug into Gianna's skin. "This is a major investor. You need this role."
Gianna pulled her arm away. Her stomach churned with unease, but she walked inside.
Dani led her to a private booth in the back. A man was already sitting there. He was heavy-set, with thinning hair and a suit that looked too tight around his neck.
"Gianna, this is Gus Kowalski," Dani said, her voice dripping with fake enthusiasm.
Gus looked Gianna up and down. His eyes lingered on her chest. Gianna felt a wave of nausea hit the back of her throat.
She sat down on the leather bench, keeping as much distance between them as possible.
The dinner started, and it was a nightmare. Gus kept leaning into her space. He placed his sweaty hand on her knee under the table.
Gianna shoved his hand away. She shot a desperate look at Dani.
Dani just narrowed her eyes and gave a tiny, threatening shake of her head. The message was clear. Play along, or your career is dead.
Gianna pushed her chair back.
"I need to use the restroom," Gianna said. Her voice was tight.
She stood up and walked quickly out of the booth. She needed air. She needed to leave.
Dani caught up with her in the narrow hallway near the kitchens. Dani grabbed her shoulder and spun her around.
"Do not ruin this for me," Dani snarled. "You go back out there and you be nice to him."
Gianna clenched her jaw. She walked back to the booth and sat down.
She looked at her water glass. It was moved slightly to the left. The condensation on the outside was smeared.
Her heart kicked against her ribs. She picked up the glass and brought it to her lips, pretending to take a long drink, but she only let a tiny drop touch her tongue.
"Drink up," Gus said. He was smiling, showing small, yellow teeth.
Gianna set the glass down. The tiny drop she swallowed tasted bitter.
Within minutes, the room started to tilt. A heavy, unnatural heat bloomed in her stomach and rushed through her veins. Her vision blurred at the edges.
Gus slid closer to her. His arm wrapped around her waist.
"You look tired," Gus whispered, his breath hot against her neck. "Let me take you to a hotel room upstairs. You can rest."
Gianna tried to push him away, but her arms felt like they were filled with lead. Her muscles refused to obey her brain.
Gus stood up and hauled her to her feet. He pressed her body against his.
Adrenaline cut through the drug haze for one split second. Gianna reached out, her fingers closing around the neck of a heavy wine bottle on the table.
She swung it with all the strength she had left.
The thick glass connected with the side of Gus's head. He let out a loud, wet scream and dropped his hands.
Gianna did not look back. She stumbled out of the booth. Her legs wobbled like jelly. She hit the wall of the hallway and bounced off, pushing herself toward the back exit.
She burst through the heavy metal door into the alley. The cold air hit her face, but the heat inside her body was burning her alive.
She took two steps and crashed directly into a solid wall of muscle.
Gianna let out a small cry as she started to fall backward. Two large, strong hands gripped her upper arms, stopping her fall instantly.
She looked up. Her vision was swimming, but she saw sharp jawlines and dark, intense eyes.
It was Algot Vaughn IV.
The drug was fully in her system now. It was not just a sedative. It was an aphrodisiac.
Gianna's hands acted on their own. She grabbed the lapels of his expensive suit coat and clung to him. Her body pressed flush against his chest.
Algot frowned. He smelled the alcohol, but underneath it, a faint, acrid chemical scent clung to her-a smell he associated with the dirty tricks used in dark alleys and back rooms. His eyes turned instantly cold.
"What happened to you?" Algot asked. His voice was a low rumble that vibrated against her chest.
"Help me," Gianna gasped. She could not form any other words. The heat was unbearable.
A man in a dark suit stepped out of the shadows. It was Alex Stone, Algot's assistant.
"Sir, there is a commotion inside," Alex said quietly.
Algot did not hesitate. He bent down and scooped Gianna up into his arms. He carried her down the alley toward a sleek black car waiting at the curb.
He placed her in the back seat and climbed in beside her. The door shut, sealing them in the quiet, dark space.
Gianna was panting. She twisted on the leather seat, kicking her shoes off. She crawled toward Algot, driven by a blind, chemical need.
She threw her leg over his lap and straddled him.
Algot grabbed her wrists. His grip was like iron.
"Stop moving," Algot commanded.
Gianna whimpered. She leaned down and pressed her hot face into the crook of his neck.
The moment her skin touched his, Algot froze.
For the last week, a deep, agonizing pain had been building in his bones. It was the genetic curse of the Vaughn family. But right now, with her body pressed against his, the pain simply vanished.
It was replaced by a profound, shocking relief.
Gianna squirmed against him, crying out softly. The drug was torturing her.
Algot looked down at her flushed face. He felt the absence of his own pain. He made a decision.
He let go of one of her wrists. His hand slid down her waist, moving under the hem of her skirt.
Gianna gasped loudly as his long, cool fingers found exactly what she needed.
Algot kept his face completely blank, his jaw clenched tight, as he moved his fingers with precise, rhythmic pressure. He watched her fall apart in his arms.
Gianna cried out, her body arching violently before collapsing against his chest, completely drained.
She passed out instantly, her head resting heavily on his shoulder.
Algot sat perfectly still in the dark car. He looked down at the woman sleeping in his arms. The pain in his bones was completely gone.
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9.7
For three years, I hid my identity as the sole heiress of a multi-billion dollar tech empire to live in a cramped apartment and support my boyfriend, Ben.
But the day before our engagement, I stood outside a meeting room and overheard him talking to his wealthy boss, Haylie.
"She's just a stepping stone," Ben laughed, his voice full of contempt. "A poor, ambitionless distraction while I work my way up to where I really belong."
He mocked the cheap silver ring he gave me, calling it a necessary prop to keep a naive fool happy.
He bragged about the multi-million dollar merger proposal he was presenting, planning to use it to secure his promotion and build a future with her.
He had no idea that I had secretly negotiated that entire deal using my real connections just to give him his big break.
I had sacrificed my family's comfort, my true identity, and my own career just to watch him rise.
I poured my heart and soul into our humble beginnings, only to realize he saw my love as a pathetic joke and me as disposable trash.
I calmly picked up a pen and voided the merger agreement, tearing my hard work into tiny pieces.
I went home, slid the cheap ring off my finger, and dropped it into his mug of cold coffee.
"Soon, you'll find out exactly who is nothing."
Walking out the door, I pulled out my phone and texted my billionaire father.
"I'm in. Announce the merger."
7.4
Four years ago, to protect the man I loved from losing his billionaire empire, I drugged his drink, told him I only used him for his money, and vanished.
Now, at a high-society gala, Callum Wyatt is back. He isn't just a CEO anymore; he's a ruthless predator, and the second his eyes lock onto me, I know I am his prey.
When my wealthy half-sister publicly humiliated me, calling me the cheap bastard child of a homewrecker, Callum stepped out of the shadows. He nearly snapped her wrist in half and declared to New York's elite that anyone who touched me would be dismantled.
In the back of his Maybach, he pinned my arms above my head, his eyes burning with psychotic obsession.
"If you run again, Aubrey, I will burn your entire world to the ground just to keep you."
My heart bled. I had spent four grueling years tearing myself apart to keep him out of my messy, blood-soaked revenge against the family that watched my mother die.
But his terrifying protection only made my biological father's family target me harder, using their massive capital to buy out my movie set and crush my acting career.
They thought I would cower.
But as I walked onto the soundstage, facing the heiress trying to steal my role, I took off my sunglasses. I wasn't running anymore; it was time to make them pay.
8.6
I was the untouchable Mafia Queen, but my reign ended in the blood-soaked depths of a damp dungeon.
My half-sister, Kelsey, drove a rusted, sharpened spoon into my chest, screaming about the unfairness of fate.
In my past life, my father sold me to the ruthless Don Dante Blackwell as collateral to pay off his debts.
To survive, I took a black-market fertility drug, birthed his heir, and clawed my way to the throne through sheer ruthlessness.
But in the mafia world, a pregnant woman isn't a queen; she's a walking target.
I survived countless bombings and poisonings, only to be betrayed and slaughtered by my own family.
Until my last breath, I couldn't understand. I had sacrificed everything to secure our survival in the empire. Why did my blood and tears only earn me a rusted spoon to the heart?
Opening my eyes again, I am seventeen, sitting in my father's drawing room.
Two black velvet boxes sit on the mahogany table.
Kelsey greedily snatches the box containing the fertility drug, her eyes gleaming with feverish triumph.
"I'll take this one, Papa."
She thinks she is stealing my golden ticket to the crown, completely unaware that she just chose a death sentence.
I lower my gaze, letting my eyelashes mask the cold, lethal amusement pooling in my eyes as I take the remaining box.
Inside is the detailed psychological profile of the Don's dead fiancée.
This time, I won't be a breeding mare fighting off assassins. I will dissect the devil himself.
9.7
I was an intern nurse working exhausting shifts, yet my mother constantly forced me into blind dates with wealthy, arrogant men to secure our family's social standing.
During a terrifying hospital lockdown, an assassin disguised as a doctor held a scalpel to my throat. I was almost killed, but a high-ranking military colonel threw his own body down a flight of concrete stairs to shield me.
I survived with cuts and bruises, but when I went home, my mother didn't care about my near-death experience. She was only furious that I had rushed out on my blind date with Preston, a rich financial analyst.
She forced me to meet him to apologize. When Preston grabbed my arm, bruised me, and mocked my attack as a pathetic lie, my mother still took his side.
"Men get angry," she told me coldly. "It's your job not to provoke them. You will beg for his forgiveness, or you are no longer welcome in this house."
I had narrowly escaped an assassin, yet my own family was willing to feed me to a monster just for a fat paycheck and neighborhood gossip.
My heart went completely dead.
So, when the intimidating Colonel appeared, offering me maximum military protection through a sudden marriage, I didn't hesitate.
I walked back into my parents' house and calmly slapped a crisp marriage certificate onto the coffee table.
"I won't be apologizing to Preston. I got married today."
8.3
Imogen Montgomery was the perfect billionaire heiress, deeply in love and ready to marry her fiancé, Clark Ellis.
That all ended the night her cousin Kathleen ripped the sapphire pendant from her neck and pushed her into a pool of toxic chemicals to die.
Two years later, Imogen's eyes snapped open. But she didn't wake up in a hospital. She woke up tied to a stained mattress, trapped in the battered body of Briana, a teenage girl from the slums who had just been sold to a local trafficker.
After violently fighting her way out of a cheap motel, she discovered the horrifying truth. Kathleen had taken over the Montgomery Group. She had locked Imogen's grieving parents away in a psychiatric facility as prisoners.
And worst of all, Kathleen was now flaunting her stolen wealth online, preparing to marry Clark.
A wave of pure, white-hot rage boiled in her blood. Kathleen had murdered her, stolen her family, and was playing the perfect grieving cousin. How was she supposed to fight back? She was just a runaway nobody now. If she tried to expose the truth, Kathleen's security would shoot her dead in the street.
She needed a weapon. She needed a shield. She needed the one man Kathleen feared.
Covered in mud and blood, Briana intercepted Clark's car in the freezing rain. She was going to infiltrate his home as his vulgar, unhinged fake mistress, and she would drag Kathleen straight down to hell.
9.0
My father was dying in the ICU, and our family company, the Martin Group, was on the verge of total collapse.
While I was desperately trying to sign the consent form for his life-saving surgery, my fiancé, Eston, sent me a text.
"I told you not to be stubborn. The company is mine by Friday. Beg me, and I might pay for the funeral."
He had been secretly looting my family's assets from the inside, waiting for me to break so he could steal everything. He thought I would crawl back to him in absolute despair, surrendering my father's legacy just to survive. The sheer weight of my helplessness crushed my chest as the heart monitor next to my father's bed let out a frantic, high-pitched scream.
The betrayal tore through me, but the despair quickly hardened into a cold, sharp stone.
Why should I let the man who ruined me dance on my family's grave? Why should I let him walk away with everything while I lost the only family I had left?
I wiped away my tears and blocked his number permanently.
Then, I stepped out into the freezing Manhattan rain and went straight to the top floor of the Maxwell building.
I threw my remaining shares onto the desk of Ellwood Maxwell—the apex predator of Wall Street, and Eston's untouchable, ruthless uncle.
"I want you to marry me," Ellwood said, pushing a marriage contract toward me. "That is the only way your company survives."
I picked up the pen. If Eston wanted to destroy my life, I would become his aunt and make him bow.