
Escaping The Obsessive Billionaire's Cage
For three years, I was imprisoned by Anderson Hopper, the monster who forced me to watch my fiancé, Kendall, plummet into a freezing river.
But when I saw the morning news, I realized Kendall wasn't dead. He had returned as Eben Gill, a ruthless tech billionaire.
I risked my life to escape and find him, only to be met with eyes full of absolute hatred.
He publicly humiliated me, dragged me to the exact bridge where he "died," and sneered at the C-section scar on my stomach.
"Anderson Hopper's bastard," he spat, completely unaware that the baby was actually his—the very child Anderson had murdered in the operating room to break me.
To make matters worse, Anderson used Kendall's dying mother as a hostage to force me back into my cage.
I knelt on the freezing asphalt, begging the man I loved to just visit his mother, while he coldly ordered his driver to run me over.
I had lost my baby, my freedom, and my dignity, all to protect him from Anderson's blackmail. Why was I the one being tortured and treated like a traitor?
"Don't think your little kneeling stunt earned you my forgiveness."
He whispered those cruel words before walking away without looking back.
Staring at his cold, retreating figure, the last shred of my love finally turned to ash.
That night, under the cover of a torrential storm, I bypassed the estate's laser grids and walked out into the dark.
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Chapter 4
The black Lincoln tore through the empty streets of New York, the engine a low, menacing hum. Inside the cabin, the air pressure was so heavy it felt like a physical weight pressing down on Audra's chest.
She pressed herself deeply into the corner of the leather seat. Her entire body trembled. She stared at the man sitting across from her, desperately searching the harsh lines of his face for any trace of the warmth she used to know.
Eben snapped the silver lighter shut. The sharp click echoed like a gunshot in the quiet car. He leaned forward suddenly, his large hand shooting out to grip her chin.
His fingers dug painfully into her jawbone. "What's the matter?" he sneered, his voice dripping with venom. "Is Anderson Hopper not satisfying you enough? Is that why you're running around the city acting like a lunatic?"
Audra winced, a sharp pain shooting through her face. Tears welled up, spilling over his knuckles. "Kendall, please. You have to listen to me. Back then, I was-"
The moment she said his name, a flash of pure, unadulterated violence crossed Eben's eyes. His grip on her jaw tightened until she felt her bones grinding together.
"Shut your mouth!" he roared, his voice vibrating with rage. "That idiot died three years ago, and you were the one who put him in the grave!"
The limousine slammed on its brakes.
The massive force of the sudden stop threw Audra forward. She crashed hard against the wooden partition separating them from the driver, her shoulder taking the brunt of the impact.
The automatic door slid open. The freezing night wind, thick with the smell of the Hudson River, ripped into the cabin.
Eben grabbed the collar of her black trench coat in a white-knuckled fist. He dragged her out of the car, his movements rough and completely devoid of mercy.
Audra stumbled over her own feet as her shoes hit the wet pavement. She forced her head up, looking around. Her pupils shrank to tiny pinpricks.
They were standing on the edge of an abandoned industrial iron bridge spanning the dark waters of the Hudson River. Right in front of them, a massive section of the rusted iron railing was missing, leaving a gaping hole that looked like the open mouth of a monster.
Below them, the black, churning waters of the river smashed against the concrete pillars with a deafening roar.
It was the exact spot. The exact place the transport van had gone over.
A wave of pure, paralyzing terror swallowed Audra whole. Her PTSD triggered instantly. Her chest tightened so severely she couldn't pull in a single breath. She began to hyperventilate, her mouth opening and closing like a suffocating fish.
Eben didn't care. He kept his iron grip on her wrist and dragged her relentlessly toward the jagged edge of the broken concrete.
Audra's toes slipped over the edge. Half of her foot was suspended over the deadly drop. One wrong move, and she would fall.
She let out a blood-curdling scream. She twisted her body, throwing her arms around Eben's solid bicep. Her broken, bleeding fingernails dug frantically into the expensive fabric of his suit jacket, clinging to him for dear life.
"Scared?" Eben's voice was colder than the wind whipping around them. "Were you scared when you sent me over this edge three years ago?"
He stepped up right behind her. His chest pressed hard against her back. He wrapped one thick arm tightly around her waist, locking her in place. With his other hand, he grabbed the back of her neck, forcing her head down to look at the black water swirling far below.
"Do you know what it feels like when the water fills your lungs?" he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear. Every word was a razor blade slicing into her sanity. "Do you know what it feels like to wait to die in the freezing dark?"
Audra's legs gave out completely. If he wasn't holding her, she would have collapsed. She shook her head wildly, sobbing so hard she choked on her own saliva. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."
Eben let out a dark, cruel laugh.
He suddenly released the arm holding her waist.
Audra's center of gravity shifted forward. The sickening sensation of weightlessness hit her stomach. She was falling. She screamed, a raw, primal sound of absolute despair.
In the fraction of a second before she tipped over the edge, Eben's large hand clamped down on her upper arm. He yanked her backward with brutal force, throwing her away from the ledge.
Audra collapsed onto the damp concrete. She curled onto her side, clutching her chest, and began to dry heave violently. Her stomach cramped, trying to expel the sheer terror that had consumed her.
Eben stood tall, looking down at her pathetic, trembling form. There was no pity in his amber eyes. Only the dark satisfaction of revenge.
"This is just a fraction of the interest you owe me, Audra Hill," he said coldly. He pulled a crisp silk handkerchief from his pocket, wiped the fingers that had touched her coat, and dropped the fabric onto her face in disgust.
"I am going to make you feel a hundred times the despair I felt. This is only the beginning."
Eben turned his back on her. He walked toward the waiting Lincoln, pulling the door open, leaving Audra alone in the dark, shivering on the edge of the abyss.
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7.3
I found out my husband of three years had cheated on me and his mistress is the one who told me-because he didn't have the balls to do it himself.
I move out and get a new apartment, a job as a bartender, and try to move on with a broken heart. I wonder where it all went wrong, if I hadn't been enough for him, if I'd been stupid for marrying him in the first place.
I'm at work one night when he walks inside-the most beautiful man I've ever seen. He sits at the bar and a forest fire burns between us. I was depressed the moment before he entered, but the second I look at his blue eyes, I forget the dumpster fire that my life has become. I invite him back to my place and it's the most passionate night of my life. I expect to never see him again.
I just want him as an anti-depressant-but he wants me all to himself. I just got my heart ripped out of my chest so I want something easy and no-strings-attached, but he wants all the strings because he's hooked.
I don't get much of a say in the matter, and that's not surprising when I learn why-because he's the Butcher. The crime lord of all crime lords, the boss that overshadows all of Paris, that makes everyone abide by his rules-or pay.
And now I'm his.

9.3
He was supposed to be my brother. The cold CEO everyone feared. The man who controlled the entire country's business world.
But one night, he looked at me and calmly destroyed everything I thought I knew.
"We're getting married."
I laughed, but he didn't.
Now every door in my life is closing, every choice is disappearing, and the one man I'm not supposed to love refuses to let me go.
Because to Lucien Hale, this was never forbidden. It was inevitable.
And the most terrifying part? The closer I get to him, the harder it becomes to run.

9.4
Aria Mcgee was the unwanted second daughter of a decaying Long Island family.
To save their bankrupt corporation, her father and older sister drugged her. They shoved her into a town car and delivered her to a ruthless Wall Street billionaire's bed like a piece of meat.
They expected her to be the perfect sacrifice. The original Aria had no access to her own trust fund and was forced to live in a windowless broom closet. Even worse, a cold, synthetic System voice echoed in her skull, demanding she play the tragic, helpless female lead. It ordered her to endure her family's abuse and suffer the billionaire's humiliation to force a pathetic romance plotline.
"Host must follow the tragic trajectory and achieve the ultimate painful romance."
But the soul that woke up in that bed wasn't a weak, frightened girl. She was a dead Hollywood Oscar-winning actress. Why would a top-tier professional ever agree to play the weeping victim in such a garbage, B-list script?
Instead of trembling in fear as the System commanded, Aria looked at the billionaire and smiled. Using her flawless acting skills, she shattered his ego, extracted a hundred thousand dollars, and walked right out the door. Now, she was heading back to the Mcgee estate, ready to rip her money from her father's greedy hands and burn her sister's life to the ground.

9.0
I died on the cold delivery table, bleeding out while the heart monitor flatlined.
Through the blinding surgical lights, I heard my husband Damon's cold, final order to the doctors.
"The child is the priority."
He didn't care about my life. To him, I was just a vessel to produce an heir, a tool to fulfill his prenuptial clause and secure his billionaire empire.
While I took my last agonizing breath, he was already planning his future with his fragile, theatrical mistress, Jasmin.
In my past life, when he first brought her into our home claiming she was a helpless victim, I shattered.
I screamed, threw vases, and played the hysterical wife perfectly.
My desperate pleas for his affection only gave him the exact weapons he needed to ruin my reputation, isolate me, and ultimately force me onto that fatal delivery bed.
Until my very last moment, the suffocating pain in my chest wasn't just physical.
I couldn't understand how the man I loved could treat my death like a simple business transaction.
Why was my absolute devotion rewarded with a carefully calculated execution?
But then, my eyes snapped open.
I was sitting on the edge of my king-sized bed, exactly three years before my death.
From downstairs, I heard Damon's voice echoing in the foyer, bringing Jasmin into our home for the very first time.
This time, the scream building in my chest turned to ice.
I didn't cry or throw a fit.
Instead, I calmly swallowed a secret birth control pill, smiled at his mistress, and dialed the most ruthless divorce lawyer in Manhattan.

7.5
Daisy spent her birthday cooking a perfect dinner, waiting in their massive penthouse for her billionaire husband, Emmett.
Instead of coming home, a breaking news alert flashed on her screen: Emmett was at the hospital, protectively shielding his old flame, Eryn. When Daisy rushed to the VIP ward, Emmett physically blocked her to comfort a crying Eryn, completely forgetting it was his wife's birthday.
Heartbroken, Daisy demanded a divorce and fled. In response, Emmett ruthlessly froze all her bank accounts and trust funds, leaving her penniless in the freezing Manhattan rain. When she cornered him with divorce papers at a public funeral, a heavy metal cart slammed into her, tearing her calf wide open. Bleeding onto the marble floor, she begged him to sign. Instead, Emmett violently ripped the bloody papers to shreds.
"Unless I am dead, you are my wife," he snarled, locking her inside a room.
Daisy risked her life to escape through a window, dragging her bleeding leg to a dingy motel. But the real nightmare began when Eryn called. The tragic car crash that killed Daisy's adoptive parents ten years ago wasn't an accident—the brake lines were cut. And Emmett, the man she loved, had been using his vast corporate empire to protect the murderers all along.
Why did Emmett bury the police report? What was the deadly secret behind her true identity and the antique "Venus" necklace? Staring at her blood-stained hands in the cracked mirror, the terrified wife died. Daisy grabbed her coat and limped out into the dark, heading straight for the Navy Yard to burn his empire to the ground.

9.8
For two years, I was the perfect, obedient wife to wealthy heir Grady Maddox.
Then I found a hidden compartment in his study desk. Inside were dozens of explicit polaroids of his adopted sister, Jasmine, and a worn leather diary.
The diary revealed the sickening truth.
"Kaya is the perfect shield. As long as I have a wife, no one will ever look too closely at me and my little Yue."
When Jasmine deliberately knocked a bowl of boiling soup onto my hand, Grady didn't even glance at my blistering skin.
He frantically checked Jasmine for nonexistent scratches and yelled at me.
"Why weren't you paying attention? Look at the mess you've made! You scared her."
He then kicked me out to our empty penthouse as punishment, only to move Jasmine in the very next day, letting her parade around in his dress shirts and giving her my favorite custom furniture.
Looking at the husband I had devoted my life to fawning over the sister he was secretly sleeping with, I didn't feel heartbroken. I just felt a deep, suffocating disgust.
I was nothing but a paper wall meant to hide their twisted affair.
I didn't cry, and I didn't beg for his love.
I simply locked him out of the bedroom, gathered my financial records, and called Manhattan's most ruthless divorce attorney.
I was securing my escape, completely unaware that Grady's estranged, terrifyingly powerful older brother had been waiting ten years for this exact moment.