Flash Marriage To My Ruthless Professor
I signed a prenuptial agreement with a cold-blooded Wall Street predator just to unlock my trust fund and fight my greedy stepmother.
We were nothing more than legal roommates bound by a strict three-year contract.
But to survive the corporate war at my family's company, I skipped my mandatory university finance class and paid a guy to answer the roll call for me.
The stand-in was immediately caught and kicked out by the notoriously ruthless new professor.
That night at dinner, I complained to my contract husband about the professor.
"He's an unreasonable, arrogant dictator who gets off on torturing his students," I complained bitterly.
My husband just calmly cut my steak and listened as I bragged about how I was going to fake-cry and manipulate the professor the next morning.
I even rushed to the faculty office the next day and performed a desperate, tearful apology to an elderly man I assumed was the tyrant.
I thought I had perfectly balanced my corporate war and my academic life. I thought I had fooled everyone.
But when I confidently sat in the front row of the massive lecture hall, the heavy wooden doors pushed open.
The terrifying new professor walked onto the podium and aggressively wrote his name on the chalkboard: Elliot Dillard.
It was my contract husband.
He looked down at me with cold, merciless authority, knowing every single lie I had told, and slowly called my name.
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Chapter 6
Allison stood frozen in the center of the Lee Group lobby.
Trevor was standing right next to the front reception desk.
He was wearing a cheap, poorly fitted navy blue suit. He was holding a crumpled resume in his hand.
Trevor turned his head and saw her. His eyes lit up with a desperate, manic energy.
"Allie!" Trevor shouted, his voice echoing off the high marble ceiling.
He sprinted across the lobby toward her, completely ignoring the shocked stares of the corporate employees.
Allison felt her blood boil. Pure, unadulterated rage flooded her veins.
"Get out of this building right now," Allison hissed, keeping her voice low but lethal.
Trevor didn't stop. He lunged forward and grabbed the sleeve of her expensive wool coat. His grip was tight and desperate.
"You have to get me an interview here, Allie," Trevor begged, his eyes wide. "I know you have connections. You owe me for the years I wasted with you!"
Allison tried to yank her arm away, but he held on tighter.
"Let go of me," Allison demanded, her chest heaving.
"If you don't help me," Trevor yelled, his voice rising to a hysterical pitch, "I will stand right here and tell everyone in this lobby about your disgusting fake marriage!"
The two massive security guards stationed by the doors heard the commotion. They immediately grabbed their radios and began walking swiftly toward them.
Allison didn't hesitate. She looked directly at the head guard.
"This man is trespassing and harassing me," Allison ordered, her voice ringing with absolute authority. "Throw him out of the building."
The guards moved in fast.
They grabbed Trevor by both arms. They lifted him almost entirely off the floor.
Trevor thrashed wildly like a caught fish.
"You bitch!" Trevor screamed, his face turning bright red.
As he struggled, the cheap fabric of his suit jacket caught on the guard's radio clip. The sleeve ripped open with a loud, ugly tearing sound.
The guards dragged him backward through the revolving doors and tossed him onto the cold concrete sidewalk.
Allison stood in the lobby, breathing hard.
She looked down at her watch. Her stomach dropped to her knees.
That disgusting encounter had cost her exactly ten minutes.
She sprinted out of the building and ran to the edge of the curb. She waved her arm frantically, desperate to hail a cab.
A yellow Ford taxi screeched to a halt in front of her.
She threw the door open, dove into the backseat, and slammed the door shut.
"Columbia University, Morningside campus! Step on it!" she yelled, pulling a fifty-dollar bill from her wallet and waving it at the plexiglass divider.
The driver looked at her through the rearview mirror and sighed heavily.
He pointed a thick finger at the windshield.
"Look ahead, lady," the driver grumbled.
Allison looked. Fifth Avenue was a sea of glowing red brake lights.
There was a massive, multi-car pileup blocking all three lanes. The traffic was completely paralyzed.
The cab crawled forward at a torturous, agonizing pace. It moved inches per minute.
Allison stared at the digital clock on the dashboard.
It flipped to 2:05 PM.
A wave of pure despair crashed over her. She was officially late. She was going to fail the class on the first day.
Her hands shook as she pulled out her phone.
She opened the browser and logged into the encrypted, underground Columbia student mutual aid forum.
Her fingers flew across the keyboard. She created a new post in the emergency bounty section.
URGENT: Need a stand-in for Advanced Finance Seminar right now. $100 Venmo immediately. Must answer roll call.
She hit post and stared at the screen, her heart hammering against her ribs.
Three agonizing minutes later, a notification popped up.
A business school junior named Mike accepted the job.
Allison quickly typed out her student ID number and her exact assigned seat number in the lecture hall. She hit send and prayed to any god that would listen that this desperate plan would work.
Miles away, inside the massive, amphitheater-style classroom at Columbia, the air was freezing cold.
Elliot Dillard stood behind the heavy wooden podium.
His face was a mask of pure ice. His dark eyes scanned the rows of terrified students.
He held his Montblanc pen in his right hand. He looked down at the printed roster.
He began the roll call. His voice was deep, resonant, and completely devoid of warmth.
"Allison Lee," Elliot called out, his eyes not leaving the paper.
In the back row, Mike, a large guy wearing a backward baseball cap, cleared his throat.
"Here," Mike grunted in a deep, undeniably masculine voice.
Elliot stopped.
His hand froze on the paper.
He slowly lifted his head. His eyes locked onto Mike with the precision of a sniper laser.
The entire classroom held its collective breath.
"Well, Ms. Lee," Elliot said, his voice dropping an octave, dripping with dangerous sarcasm. "Since you are present, please stand up and explain the mathematical flaws in the Black-Scholes option pricing model when applied to extreme market volatility."
Mike's face drained of all color. His legs shook as he slowly stood up.
He opened his mouth, but only pathetic, stuttering sounds came out. He couldn't name a single financial term.
Elliot stared at him for five agonizing seconds.
"It appears 'Ms. Lee' is exceptionally unprepared for today's session," Elliot noted, his voice dripping with icy condescension. "Sit down. This unexcused absence will be officially recorded as a zero."
Mike's face burned with humiliation. He didn't sit. Instead, he grabbed his backpack and practically ran out of the room, his head hung in shame.
Elliot looked back down at the roster.
He pressed the nib of his pen against the paper. He drew a massive, brutal red 'X' right next to the name Allison Lee.
Back in the taxi, Allison's phone vibrated.
It was a Venmo refund notification from Mike, followed by a text: Bro, your professor is a psycho. I got kicked out. Sorry.
Allison dropped her head against the cold window glass. She closed her eyes.
A second later, her email app chimed.
She opened it. It was a message from the university server.
Sender: E. Dillard.
Subject: Mandatory Meeting.
Message: My office. Tomorrow morning. 8:00 AM sharp.
Allison stared at the screen, feeling physically sick. She had to face the tyrant tomorrow. But worse, she had to face her husband tonight.
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9.6
He rejected her under the moonlight. Now fate has thrown them into the same war...
Aria Ashborne was supposed to be forgotten the castaway of a fallen pack, the daughter of a disgraced Alpha. But fate has a cruel sense of humor. When Alpha Kaiden Blackthorn the brutal enforcer of the Northern Territories discovers she is his fated mate, he rejects her in front of the entire council, branding her unworthy.
But Aria doesn't beg. She doesn't break. She builds. She builds in silence.
Now a fierce warrior leading her own rebel wolves, she's forced into an uneasy alliance with Kaiden when a deadly new force begins tearing through the werewolf ranks. Old enemies. New secrets. And a bond neither of them can truly sever.
What happens when hate burns hotter than desire? And when the one person you swore to destroy... might be the only one who can save you?
7.6
The drill's whine was the only thing in my world, vibrating through my skull and drowning out my own screams.
I was strapped to a cold metal table, paralyzed by wolfsbane, while surgeons bored into my hip bone to siphon my essence.
"Just a little more," the surgeon muttered. "Isabella needs the boost for the wedding photos."
They weren't saving my sister's life. They were harvesting my marrow just to make her skin glow for a picture.
I looked at the observation window, begging with my eyes.
Dante, the Alpha I had dragged from the jaws of death, stood there. He wasn't looking at me. He was holding Isabella's hand.
He didn't know I was the one who healed him. He believed her lies.
"Take it all if you have to," Dante's voice drifted through our fading mate bond. "Don't let her fade."
The drill punched through. My heart stuttered and stopped.
I died on that table, a hollowed-out husk used to feed my sister's vanity.
"Seraphina! Are you deaf?"
A sharp voice snapped me back into existence.
I gasped, clutching my hip. No blood. No drill. No pain.
I looked at the calendar on my father's desk.
I was alive. And I had exactly one year before the surgery that killed me.
I looked at my trembling hands and felt the ancient anger of my White Wolf stirring.
I wasn't going to be the sacrifice this time.
I was going to be the arsonist.
7.3
What happens when you fall for the wrong brother?
Nicole's safe relationship with Liam begins to shatter after a forbidden encounter with his dangerous brother, Adrian, the same man who stole Liam's CEO position and became his sworn enemy. What starts as guilt turns into haunting desire as Adrian becomes obsessed with her, refusing to let her go. Caught between loyalty and temptation, Nicole is pulled into a ruthless game of power, betrayal, and forbidden passion where loving either of the brothers could destroy them all.
7.6
"A monster like you could never be my Luna." Those words shatter Elara Voss on the night she finally shifts... into the forbidden Shadow Wolf.
Rejected by the Alpha King and cast out as a cursed monster, Elara flees into the rogue lands with nothing but humiliation burning in her chest.
But when Kairos Blackthorn comes hunting for her, he doesn't find the broken omega he rejected.
He finds a queen.
In a moment of fury, Elara does the impossible-she marks the Alpha King instead.
Now the bond is reversed.
The king who rejected her feels every ounce of her pain... her rage... and her growing power.
As war brews between brothers and ancient enemies rise from the shadows, Kairos must fight to win back the mate he destroyed before Elara's darkness consumes them all.
7.9
I was in the kitchen of the Vance mansion, slicing black truffles worth more than my car while my mother-in-law, Victoria, mocked my "backwoods" origins. My back throbbed from standing for six hours, and my head spun from the chronic anemia I’d developed since marrying into this family.
Suddenly, my phone vibrated with a call from my husband, Julian. He didn't ask if I was okay or if I’d eaten; he simply ordered me to get to the hospital because his "fragile" friend Caroline needed another emergency blood transfusion.
"Her hemoglobin is low, Seraphina. Get to St. Luke's now."
I looked down at my left arm, which was a roadmap of bruises and needle marks hidden beneath my sweater. When I tried to tell him that the medical guidelines forbade donating again so soon, Julian’s voice turned dangerous.
"I don't care about guidelines. She’s in crisis, and your anemia is manageable. Are you really going to be this selfish after the life we gave you?"
Seconds later, a photo arrived from an unknown number. It showed Julian sitting on Caroline’s hospital bed, tenderly feeding her apples. The text underneath was a visceral slap in the face: "He wouldn't even eat dinner with you, but he's feeding me. Thanks for the refill, blood bag."
At that moment, something inside me finally snapped. I realized that to the Vances, I wasn't a wife or even a human being—I was a biological spare part, a servant they kept around only to be drained dry for a woman who was faking her illness.
I untied my apron, dropped it into the trash, and walked past a screaming Victoria toward the front door. I picked up the phone and dialed the one number I had been forbidden to contact since my wedding day.
"Mr. Henderson, it's Seraphina Sterling. Prepare the divorce papers. And if they contest it... burn their entire empire to the ground."
8.2
Sera Hale is a young art student living a completely sheltered life, unaware of her father's dangerous secrets. When her father's debt is called in by the ruthless mafia boss, Damien Vescari, Sera is suddenly kidnapped and forced into marriage.
She's terrified of Damien, especially because she suspects he was involved in her mother's death. But what truly confuses Sera is the intense, almost obsessive familiarity in his eyes and the surprising kindness he sometimes shows her.
Sera doesn't realize the shocking truth: Damien was her anonymous online soulmate from years ago-the boy she fell in love with before her father suddenly cut her off. Damien has been searching for her ever since.
Now, he finally has her, but their reunion is a nightmare. She sees him only as a kidnapper, and her love is replaced by fear.
As Sera fights for her freedom, she discovers that their past is tangled up in dangerous secrets.