Fifty Million Dollar Contract: My Enemy Husband
Eloise was the untouchable Brandt family heiress, just one audition away from landing a lead movie role and escaping her golden cage.
But overnight, her family's empire completely collapsed.
With her father dying of heart failure, her mother forced her to beg the only man who could save them: Christian Clarke.
Christian was the ruthless billionaire who had publicly humiliated Eloise in college, ripping up her love letter in front of a laughing crowd.
Now, he tossed a fifty-million-dollar acquisition contract on the table.
"What exactly is the Brandt heiress putting up for sale today?"
To secure her father's medical care, Eloise was forced to sign a suffocating marriage contract, selling herself as a corporate tax shield.
He moved her into his freezing penthouse and treated her like a purchased asset. He mocked her attempts to cook him dinner, yet pinned her against the wall with punishing, possessive kisses whenever she tried to pull away.
Eloise's pride was entirely shattered.
She didn't understand why he was doing this. If he hated her so much and only wanted revenge, why did his touch carry such an agonizing, desperate heat?
Determined to survive, she went to her final audition and miraculously won the lead role, crying tears of joy because she had finally earned something on her own.
She had no idea that the cold-blooded monster sleeping beside her had just secretly threatened to destroy all of Hollywood to give it to her.
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Chapter 5
The heat of that single tear burned Christian's skin like acid.
His entire body jerked. He ripped his mouth away from hers and dropped her wrists. He took a massive step backward, his chest heaving as he dragged air into his lungs. He stared at his hand, then up at her face.
Eloise's knees gave out. She slid down the wall until she hit the hardwood floor. She sat there, pulling her knees to her chest, gasping for breath. She lifted a shaking hand and wiped the blood from her swollen bottom lip. Her eyes looked up at him, filled with absolute terror and defense.
The narrow entryway was dead silent. Only the sound of their ragged breathing filled the space.
Christian looked down at her. The violent storm in his eyes slowly receded, replaced by a thick, impenetrable wall of ice. He forced his posture straight, pulling the cold, calculating billionaire persona back over his fractured soul.
"Stand up," he ordered. His voice was completely devoid of emotion.
Eloise didn't move. She just stared at him.
Christian looked down at her, his jaw tight. "You want fifty million dollars to save your father. Here is my offer. You spend tonight with me. Tomorrow morning, you sign a marriage contract. You do that, and the money hits the Brandt accounts by noon."
Eloise's head snapped up. Her eyes widened in pure shock. "Marriage?" she whispered, her voice cracking. "Why? If you want to ruin my life, taking the company is enough."
Christian let out a short, cruel laugh. He leaned down, grabbing her chin again, but this time his touch was clinical. "Don't flatter yourself. A wife is a useful tax shield and a good PR move for the board. It's a business contract. Nothing more."
He let go of her face and stood up straight. He pulled back his cuff and looked at his expensive watch.
"You have sixty seconds to decide," he said coldly. "If you say no, I walk out that door, and your father loses his hospital bed."
The ticking of the vintage clock on the wall sounded like a hammer hitting an anvil. Eloise stared at the floor. Her father's pale face flashed in her mind. The medical bills. The tears on her mother's face.
The seconds bled away. Her stomach twisted so hard she felt physically sick.
At the fifty-ninth second, Eloise closed her eyes. "Yes," she whispered. The word barely made a sound.
Christian's pupils dilated. A fresh wave of anger hit him-anger that she would sell herself so easily, proving every lie he believed about her.
He didn't say a word. He bent down, wrapped one arm behind her knees and the other around her back, and lifted her off the floor.
Eloise gasped at the sudden weightlessness. Her hands instinctively flew up, gripping his broad shoulders to keep from falling.
Christian carried her up the spiraling back staircase. He didn't bother turning on the lights. He kicked open the door to her bedroom.
He walked over to the bed and dropped her onto the mattress. Eloise sank into the soft blankets. Before she could push herself up, Christian was over her. His heavy frame pressed her down into the mattress, caging her in.
He reached up with one hand and yanked his tie loose, tossing it onto the rug. His eyes were pitch black in the dark room, fixed entirely on her face.
Eloise turned her head away. She squeezed her eyes shut. Hot, humiliating tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, soaking into her pillow. Her hands gripped the bedsheets so tightly her knuckles ached.
Christian saw the tears. His hands stopped moving. He reached out, his rough thumb brushing against her cheek, wiping the wetness away. The touch was surprisingly gentle, completely at odds with his harsh words.
"Look at me," he commanded, his voice a low whisper. "If you're going to treat this like a job, then do it properly."
Eloise gritted her teeth. She forced her head to turn. She opened her eyes and met his intense gaze. Her eyes were full of broken pride and stubborn defiance.
Christian lowered his head. This time, his mouth didn't punish her. His lips brushed against hers with a suffocating, heavy heat. It was demanding, completely taking over her senses.
His large, warm hand slid under the edge of her silk nightgown. His fingers brushed against her bare stomach. The contrast of his hot skin against her cold flesh made her entire body shiver violently.
Eloise closed her eyes again. She let go of the bedsheets. She stopped fighting. She let herself sink into the dark, terrifying reality of what she had just agreed to.
Outside the window, the neon lights of Manhattan filtered through the gap in the curtains, casting long shadows across the bed. In the quiet darkness, Christian took the woman he had wanted for ten years, using the only method he thought she understood. And Eloise surrendered her life to the man she believed hated her most.
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9.7
Clarissa rushed into a crowded nightclub for one simple reason: to save her wildly drunk best friend.
But her ruthless billionaire husband, Giovanny, was watching from the VIP room. After effortlessly ruining a man just for grabbing her wrist, Giovanny punished Clarissa for breaching their public image contract with an impossible curfew.
When she inevitably arrived back at his penthouse late, he didn't just yell. He forced her to her knees by his bathtub to wash his back, making her watch an explicit, humiliating video as punishment.
A sudden family medical emergency dragged them to his parents' estate. Still in her soaked, transparent dress and his misbuttoned shirt, Giovanny's mother caught them. She joyfully assumed they had been passionately intimate.
Instead of clearing her name, Giovanny pulled Clarissa close and lied to his mother's face.
"We are working very hard on the family's future, Mother."
He locked her in the guest suite, tossed a sheer silk nightgown on the bed, and literally shattered the tablet holding their "no-contact" prenuptial agreement. He then slapped a file against the window—he had secretly bought all her father's toxic debt.
Clarissa was terrified. They were supposed to be business allies bound by a strict contract. Why was he suddenly acting like a predator determined to own her body and soul?
"Give me an heir, or your father goes to federal prison," he whispered.
Stripped of all choices, Clarissa picked up the white silk. She would surrender tonight to save her family, but as his shadow swallowed her, she made a silent vow to survive this monster, and one day, tear his empire to the ground.
8.0
Abigayle was the proud heir to the Pena Group, living a perfect life and engaged to Jeffery Sullivan.
But the morning after a charity gala, she woke up drugged in a hotel room, blinded by paparazzi cameras. Her fiancé and her best friend stood at the foot of the bed, throwing a forged pregnancy report at her face to publicly frame her for cheating.
The betrayal was only the beginning of the slaughter. Before she could even clear her name, the Sullivan family ruthlessly bankrupted her family's company overnight. Her father was rushed to the ICU with a heart attack, her brother was run off the road into a coma, and violent repo men raided her penthouse. Just as she was thrown out into the freezing rain, Jeffery's terrifying uncle, Donovan Sullivan—the very mastermind who engineered her family's ruin—stepped in. He offered to cover the life-saving medical bills, but only if she agreed to become his personal plaything.
Abigayle's blood turned to ice. She couldn't understand how the people she trusted most could plot such a vicious, coordinated destruction just to break an engagement. How dared the man who destroyed her entire family stand there playing the savior, trying to buy her body with her own stolen wealth?
Facing a $100,000 hospital deadline and abandoned by everyone she knew, she didn't shed another tear.
"I will never beg him."
Clutching her last diamond bracelet, she hailed a cab straight to the biggest pawnshop in the Diamond District. The Sullivans thought they had buried her, but her counterattack was just beginning.
7.5
Five years of a fake marriage to a billionaire.
Christi thought she was a wealthy wife-until City Hall told her the truth.
No marriage license. No legal rights. Nothing but a lie.
Her husband cheated on her for four years.
His entire family mocked her, used her, and planned to trap her with a baby.
She was ready to ruin them all.
Then a secret changed everything:
Her late parents were DARPA elites. She is the sole heir to $50 billion.
There's only one catch-marry Cornelius Gregory, Wall Street's ruthless paralyzed tycoon.
She signs the contract in an instant.
Freeze their accounts. Destroy the Rivera family.
The game is over for them.
And the queen has just arrived.
8.7
I was trapped in a greasy diner by my own mother.
She was forcing me to marry my abusive cousin because he had paid her twenty thousand dollars.
To escape, I used a contract marriage app and begged a complete stranger to marry me at City Hall that very day.
Ethan drove a cheap Ford and wore a plain suit. I thought he was just an ordinary guy needing a fake wife.
When my mother found out, she brought thugs to destroy my flower shop—my only home and livelihood.
To protect Ethan from her endless extortion, I shielded him and screamed that he was bankrupt and drowning in credit card debt.
My mother fled in disgust, and Ethan took me into his apartment for the night.
But out of trauma and habit, I locked my bedroom door, muttering that he must be old and desperate.
He stormed out into the freezing night, leaving me terrified that I had ruined my only lifeline.
I didn't understand why he was so furiously offended, completely unaware that my "broke" husband was actually the most ruthless billionaire in New York, and I had just trampled his massive ego.
The next morning, his face was a mask of ice as he dragged me back to City Hall to annul the marriage and get rid of me.
"Annulment. Now," he demanded.
But the clerk just popped her gum and slid a pink paper across the counter.
"State law changed. Mandatory thirty-day cooling-off period."
9.5
I woke up gasping from a nightmare of flames devouring Chandler Finch's estate, my body wrapped in burning curtains as I died alone.
But my eyes opened to silk sheets in his penthouse master bedroom. He was alive beside me, his cedarwood scent real. This was my second chance—I'd been reborn.
His phone buzzed: Eugenia Stewart's "emergency." Her security detail reported her refusing meals, unstable. Chandler bolted without a glance, rushing to her side.
I signed the brutal cohabitation contract binding me to him, but Temperance had planted birth control pills in the trash—a trap to frame me. Chandler found them, exploded in jealous rage, crushing the pills to dust. "No child unless it's mine," he growled, possessive fire in his eyes.
Brett, Eugenia's lapdog, stormed in later, accusing me of manipulation. I fired back: Chandler demanded my womb for his heir. Brett paled, fled to tattle.
Then the storm hit—power outage, locked on the terrace in pouring rain, freezing as Eugenia faked an asthma attack on Chandler's line, stealing his focus again. I hung up, huddled with a stray puppy, nearly dying from hypothermia.
He'd never believed me before—Eugenia's lies always won, dooming me to isolation and fire. Why did her every whimper trump my screams? How could he be so blind?
This time, reborn weeks before the inferno, I wouldn't beg. I'd play his game, shatter Eugenia's web, and make Chandler mine—before the flames returned.
9.5
Janet woke up gasping, the phantom fire of a deadly explosion still scorching her lungs. She had been reborn three years in the past, on the exact day her mother forced her into a marriage contract with Gaylord Bradford, a paralyzed and severely disfigured billionaire.
Before she could even process her second chance, her cousin Kandy kicked the bedroom door open, flaunting a massive diamond ring. Kandy, who had also been reborn, smugly announced she had stolen Janet's Wall Street golden boy fiancé, Jax Adler.
"You're going to marry that paralyzed monster," Kandy spat, gloating that she would build a billionaire dynasty with Jax while Janet wiped drool off a rotting corpse. Kandy expected Janet to have a complete mental collapse, completely unaware that Gaylord's own medical team was secretly injecting him with lethal neurotoxins to finish him off.
But Janet only felt a cold, clinical pity. Kandy's "prophetic" memories were a polluted lie. Jax was actually sterile and dying of irreversible kidney failure, while Gaylord wasn't a dying freak—he was a dormant god whose body was merely in a high-dimensional hibernation. Why would Janet mourn losing a doomed fraud?
Leaving her delusional cousin behind, Janet packed her bags and headed straight to Gaylord's maximum-security military cell. She physically tackled his corrupt doctor, drove three bio-electric silver needles into the crippled king's spine to awaken his deadened nerves, and looked him dead in his glacial blue eye.
"Sign the marriage contract," Janet whispered. "I will make you walk again, and we will take back everything."