Flash Marriage To The Ruthless Surgeon
My abusive ex was threatening a lawsuit that would destroy my father's career and wipe out my PhD. I was completely out of options.
That night, Graham, the boy from next door I hadn't seen in a decade, showed up at my apartment in the middle of a hurricane. Now a wealthy orthopedic surgeon, he offered a transactional marriage: he needed a local wife to keep his family away while he cared for his sick mother, and in return, he would make my ex disappear.
I thought it was a simple deal. But the morning after we signed the marriage license, Graham didn't just scare my ex off—he ruthlessly dismantled him. Then, Graham turned to me. His eyes were dead as he pulled out his phone, showing me a high-resolution photo of the night I illegally sold lab samples to pay off my ex's initial blackmail. He had hired a private investigator to stalk me. If that photo leaked to the FDA, I wouldn't just lose my degree; I'd go to prison.
"I needed a guarantee," he said flatly.
I was shaking with rage and terror. This wasn't a rescue. It was a hostage situation. Why did he hunt me down? Why use my darkest secret to trap me in this twisted marriage?
I couldn't live like this. I demanded an immediate divorce. But at the courthouse, the clerk dropped a bomb on us: state law required a mandatory thirty-day waiting period. Thirty days trapped with a ruthless, manipulative stranger. I had to find a way to break his leverage before the month was up.
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Chapter 7
The click of the lock was loud in the sudden silence of the hospital room.
Graham turned the deadbolt, sealing them inside. The sound made Gerry flinch.
"Hey, what are you doing?" Gerry asked, his voice suddenly nervous. "Why are you locking the door?"
Graham didn't answer right away. He walked over to the window and pulled the blinds shut, casting the room in a dim, shadowy light. Then he pulled a chair over to the side of the bed and sat down, crossing his long legs.
The friendly, professional demeanor was gone. In its place was a cold, calculating intensity that made the temperature in the room drop ten degrees.
"Let's talk about your arm, Mr. Brady," Graham said, his voice low and even.
Gerry swallowed hard, his earlier bravado evaporating. "Look, man, I don't know who you are, but-"
"I'm the man who just married Jaimie Stuart this morning," Graham interrupted. He pulled his phone from his pocket, tapped the screen, and held it up for Gerry to see.
It was the photo of the marriage certificate.
Gerry stared at it, his eyes widening in shock. "What? You... you married her? Today?"
"That's right," Graham said, pocketing the phone. "Which means that the woman you were just trying to extort is now my wife. And the man you were slandering to my face is my father-in-law."
The color completely drained from Gerry's face. He looked like he was going to be sick. "This is... you can't..."
"I can," Graham said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "And I have. Now, let's review the facts."
He opened the chart and flipped a page. "You were intoxicated and high when you confronted Jaimie's father. You initiated the physical assault. The injury to your arm, while unfortunate, is a direct result of your own aggressive actions. In legal terms, that's called assumption of risk."
"You're a doctor!" Gerry sputtered. "You can't use my medical stuff against me! That's... that's a HIPAA violation!"
"I'm not disclosing your information to the public, Mr. Brady," Graham said, his voice dangerously soft. "I'm simply using it to prepare my wife's legal defense. As her husband, and as your attending physician, I have every right to review the circumstances of your injury. And if you pursue this frivolous lawsuit, I will be compelled to testify under oath about your blood alcohol level, your drug use, and the security footage that proves you are lying."
Gerry was breathing hard, his chest heaving. The trap was closing around him, and he could see no way out.
"Furthermore," Graham continued, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees, "your demand for fifty thousand dollars, coupled with your threat to ruin her father's career, constitutes extortion. And filing a lawsuit based on a false narrative is perjury. Both are felonies in this state."
He stood up, towering over the bed. He looked down at Gerry with an expression of absolute disdain.
"So, here is what is going to happen," Graham said, his voice barely above a whisper. "You are going to drop this ridiculous lawsuit. You are going to tell your lawyer that you've changed your mind. You are going to pack up your things, and you are going to leave East City. And you are never going to contact Jaimie or her family again."
"Or what?" Gerry asked, his voice cracking.
Graham smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. It was a cold, terrifying thing. "Or I will ensure every piece of evidence, from the restaurant's security footage to your own medical records, is presented in court. A good lawyer can build a very strong case for perjury and extortion with what we have. Do you want to risk that?"
He picked up the chart and tucked it under his arm. He walked to the door and unlocked it.
"Get well soon, Mr. Brady," he said, his voice shifting back to the professional, detached tone of a doctor. "I'll check on you tomorrow."
He stepped out into the hallway and closed the door quietly behind him.
Jaimie was standing a few feet away, her arms wrapped around herself. She looked up at him, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and disbelief.
"Is it done?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
"It's done," Graham said. "He won't bother you again."
She wanted to ask how. She wanted to know exactly what he had said, what leverage he had used. But looking at his face, the hard, unyielding mask, she knew she wouldn't get an answer.
He started walking down the hall, expecting her to follow. She fell into step beside him, her mind racing.
She should have been relieved. Gerry was gone. The lawsuit was over. Her father was safe.
But as they walked out of the hospital into the bright afternoon sun, all she could feel was a deep, chilling sense of dread. The man walking beside her had just dismantled a blackmailer in less than ten minutes, using nothing but his words and his position.
He was powerful. He was ruthless. And he owned her.
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7.2
Betrayed by her sister. Killed by her husband.
Reborn, Sarah returns with one goal-revenge.
This time, she won't be the fool.
And with the Knox, the most dangerous man by her side...
she'll ruin them all, and take back everything that belongs to her.
Promotional line: They killed me once. This time, I'll destroy them first.
7.1
The last thing I remembered was the blinding flash of my starship crashing. But instead of a rescue crew, I woke up tied to a wooden post, surrounded by hostile beastmen.
My universal translator kicked in just in time to hear their priestess, Chelsea, declare that I was a cursed demon who ruined their hunt. To save the clan from winter starvation, I was to be burned alive.
The flames were already blistering my legs, and jagged stones hurled by the crowd gashed my forehead. I barely negotiated a three-day reprieve to find them food, venturing into the deadly primeval forest.
I found a massive supply of wild potatoes and even gained the protection of Bronson, a terrifyingly powerful saber-toothed tiger beastman.
But Chelsea wouldn't stop.
She labeled my food as poisonous, tried to sentence me to starve in a penitent's cave, and when my agricultural knowledge proved her wrong, she invoked an ancient law. She incited the tribe's savage warriors to fight over me, turning me into breeding property.
I was a scientist offering them endless food, yet their primitive ignorance and one woman's vicious jealousy kept pushing me toward a brutal end. I was terrified, completely powerless against their monstrous physical strength.
As five ruthless challengers drew their bone axes to claim me, I begged Bronson to leave me and run.
Instead, he pulled me against his scarred chest and kissed me fiercely in front of the entire clan.
"She is my mate," he roared, unleashing a soul-crushing aura. "Anyone who wants her, come at me together."
7.4
Clara Davis was trained to seduce, deceive, and destroy.
Her mission is simple: infiltrate billionaire Jeffery Rothwell's life, gain his trust, and help seize his empire in exchange for the freedom she has always craved.
But the deeper she slips into his dangerous world, the more the lines between mission and desire begin to blur. Falling for him was never part of the plan and neither was discovering that the man she was sent to manipulate may not be the real Jeffery at all.
Now trapped in a deadly web of obsession, power, and hidden identities. Clara is caught between the organization that owns her, the monster who remade her, and a love that has turned into vengeance. Clara must survive a man who sees everything, controls everything, and may be far more dangerous than the organization that created her.
Because in this game of seduction and revenge, love might be the deadliest trap of all.
8.9
The mangled car teetered on the cliff's edge, my leg crushed, gasoline fumes thick in the air. My husband, Holden, stood safe on the highway, directing the rescue – but not for me. He was saving her, the woman in the passenger seat, leaving me and our unborn child to the ocean below.
I woke trapped in the crushed Maybach, leg pinned. The cliff loomed; the driver's seat was empty.
Holden, safe outside, directed paramedics past me to Giana, his "most valuable asset," ordering her rescue first.
I watched him comfort Giana, oblivious, as the car slid. My baby barely viable. Holden offered a black card for silence; Giana gloated.
Ten years of devotion, a cruel lie. Rage fueled me: how could he abandon his wife and child?
I swore a venomous oath: never again an accessory. I flicked his card away, shielded my pregnancy, and promised my baby escape.
8.2
In our beast world, females are treated as nothing more than precious breeding stock to keep the pack strong. As the pack's best Mender, I spent all my time focusing on my healing herbs, completely ignoring my maturity ritual.
But tonight, the blind pack elder grabbed my wrist and delivered a chilling ultimatum.
If I don't choose my mates by the next Full Moon, the Council of Elders will force a match and assign them to me.
The threat is already suffocating. Arrogant, elite warriors like Caleb Quinn are pacing outside my door like starving wolves, stalking my porch and using pack business to corner me. At home, the reality of multiple mates is even worse. My mother has two mates—my father, the strongest Alpha, and my cold, intellectual step-father. Their toxic, murderous jealousy turns our house into a daily war zone. They literally unleash suffocating killing intent on innocent cubs just for hugging my mother.
I am disgusted by this sick, possessive obsession. I refuse to let my life become a battlefield of jealous males fighting over who gets to guard my door, and I absolutely refuse to be forced into a harem by the Elders.
So, I made a declaration that shocked my entire family and broke every pack tradition.
"I will only ever take one mate."
And to make sure none of those predatory warriors can touch me, I set an impossible trap.
"Whoever wants me must defeat my father first."
8.6
For two years, I was trapped behind my own eyes, a prisoner in my own skull.
A crazed fan had hijacked my body after a brutal car crash, wearing my skin like a cheap suit.
When my soul finally locked back into my flesh in a cramped hospital room, I realized she had destroyed everything I built.
This parasitic stalker had drained my massive fortune to zero, buying luxury gifts for a mediocre actor and turning me into the internet's most hated woman.
My phone was flooded with death threats, and the hashtag demanding I go to hell was trending at number one.
Even the hospital nurses despised me. One marched into my room, raising her hand to violently slap my pale cheek.
"You psychotic bitch, you make me sick!"
Worse, my sprawling Beverly Hills estate had been foreclosed and sold to a mysterious billionaire named Kasey Dominguez.
I had absolutely nothing left. No money. No reputation. No home.
The sheer violation of watching a psychotic stranger ruin my life while I was locked in the passenger seat of my own mind made my blood boil.
I refused to let her destroy my legacy.
As the nurse's hand descended, my atrophied muscles snapped into action.
I twisted her wrist until the joint popped, grabbed the keys to my freedom, and slipped out into the cold Los Angeles night.
I was going to take my life back, starting with the billionaire who thought he owned my house.