Flash Marriage To The Ruthless Tycoon
I was a broke clinic doctor drowning in debt, so I took a confidential job to evaluate a billionaire heir's fertility.
I marched into the VIP ICU, pinned the struggling patient down, and injected a sedative. I finished the extraction and loudly declared to the family lawyer that the Holt heir was completely sterile.
But then, a chilling laugh echoed from the doorway.
The real heir, Jarrod Holt, the tyrant of Wall Street, stepped in. I had just sterilized his younger brother right in front of him.
Facing a decade in federal prison, I was completely at his mercy. To make things worse, my arrogant ex-boyfriend tried to publicly humiliate me, and my greedy uncle threatened to burn my dead mother's belongings for ransom. I was pushed to the absolute brink of ruin.
But instead of destroying me, Jarrod offered a terrifying lifeline. He bought out a Manhattan high-rise in five minutes just to ruin my ex, then handed me a marriage contract.
I was terrified and deeply confused. Why would this ruthless billionaire force a nobody into a fake marriage? He knew details about my past that no one should know. Did he discover my hidden identity as 'E', the underground surgeon the entire medical world was hunting for?
With my back against the wall, I signed the prenuptial agreement.
"I do," I whispered at City Hall.
He shoved his heavy, antique family ring onto my finger. It was supposed to be strictly business with absolutely no physical contact, but when his lips crashed violently onto mine, I knew I had just sold my soul to the devil.
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Chapter 3
The bulletproof Maybach pulled to a smooth stop in front of a completely unmarked storefront on the Upper East Side.
A bodyguard opened the door. Kassie stepped out, her worn-out flats hitting the pristine pavement. She felt entirely out of place, clutching the strap of her canvas bag so tightly her knuckles turned white.
They walked into the private cafe. It was completely empty. Jarrod had clearly bought out the entire establishment for this conversation.
Jarrod walked over to a booth by the window. He sat down on the dark leather sofa, crossing his long legs at the knee. He looked entirely in his element.
Kassie slid into the seat across from him. Her stomach was tied in tight, painful knots.
A waiter appeared instantly, placed two cups of steaming black coffee on the table, and vanished, pulling the heavy oak doors shut behind him.
Jarrod picked up his cup. He took a slow sip, his dark eyes locked onto Kassie, dissecting her every movement.
The silence stretched, thick and suffocating. Kassie couldn't take the pressure anymore. "What do you want?" she blurted out, her voice shaking slightly.
Jarrod set the cup down. "I want you to marry me."
Kassie's movements froze completely, the water glass halting midway to her lips. She slowly lowered the glass, setting it down onto the table with a sharp, definitive clink. Her eyes narrowed into a razor-sharp glare, assessing the billionaire sitting across from her as if he were a completely unhinged psychiatric patient. "Are you insane?" Kassie demanded, her voice flat and laced with disbelief. "We met less than an hour ago. I just drugged your brother!"
Jarrod pulled a sleek silver pen from his pocket and laid it on the table. "This is a business transaction, Dr. Moody. Nothing more."
He leaned forward slightly. "I must be married before my thirtieth birthday to assume majority control of the family trust. I need a wife."
"There are a thousand socialites in New York who would kill for that ring," Kassie shot back, her heart pounding. "Why pick a broke clinic doctor from Brooklyn?"
Jarrod's eyes darkened. His gaze dropped to her face, tracing the curve of her jaw and the shape of her nose. For two full seconds, he stared at her, completely lost in thought, a strange, heavy emotion flashing in his eyes.
Then, he blinked, the cold mask slamming back into place. He looked away. "Because you saved my grandfather's life."
Kassie froze. Her blood ran cold.
She remembered the old man collapsing on the street three months ago. She remembered dropping to her knees, abandoning the standard protocols when they failed, and relying on instinct to execute a forbidden, highly classified technique she had only ever seen in the most hidden, underground medical archives to restart his heart.
"That emergency procedure you used," Jarrod said, his voice low and calculating. "That wasn't something a public clinic doctor learns. It was highly advanced. Reckless. But effective."
Panic gripped Kassie's throat. He knows. If he dug deeper, he would find out she was 'E', the underground surgeon the entire medical world was hunting for. Her hands grew clammy.
"It was a lucky guess," Kassie lied, forcing her voice to stay flat. "A desperate attempt. Nothing more."
Jarrod didn't push it. He reached into his briefcase and slid a thick stack of legal documents across the table.
"Sign this prenuptial agreement," Jarrod said. "We maintain the marriage for two years. In exchange, I will pay off every cent of your medical school debt."
Kassie stared at the paper.
"Furthermore," Jarrod continued, his tone turning lethal. "I will use the Holt family resources to ensure your parasite of an uncle never bothers you again."
Kassie's breath hitched. The mention of her uncle Mitch made her stomach churn with disgust and fear. The financial numbers on the page were astronomical. It was a lifeline. A terrifying, dangerous lifeline.
She bit down on her lower lip, tasting copper. The idea of tying herself to this ruthless billionaire terrified her. She was trading one cage for another.
She pushed the contract back toward him. "I need time to think about this."
Jarrod glanced at his platinum Rolex. "You have twenty-four hours."
Suddenly, a loud commotion erupted outside the thick glass windows of the cafe.
Kassie turned her head to look. The blood instantly drained from her face, leaving her as pale as a ghost. Her breath caught in her throat.
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9.0
My fiancé, Connor, and I had a one-year pact. I'd work undercover as a junior developer in the company we co-founded, while he, the CEO, built our empire.
The pact ended the day he ordered me to apologize to the woman who was systematically destroying my life.
It happened during his most important investor pitch. He was on video call when he demanded I publicly humiliate myself for his "special guest," Jaden. This was after she'd already scalded my hand with hot coffee and faced zero consequences.
He chose her. In front of everyone, he chose a manipulative bully over our company's integrity, our employees' dignity, and me, his fiancée.
His eyes on the screen demanded my submission.
"Apologize to Jaden. Now."
I took a step forward, held up my burned hand for the camera, and made a call of my own.
"Dad," I said, my voice dangerously quiet. "It's time to dissolve the partnership."
7.2
Elmore Thomas rushed into the emergency room, clutching his feverish seven-year-old son, Buddy, tightly to his chest.
When the privacy curtain was pulled back, the air in Elmore's lungs vanished. The attending physician standing under the harsh lights was his wife, Kendal—the woman everyone believed had burned to death eight years ago.
But there was no tearful reunion. Kendal looked at him, and her eyes froze into impenetrable ice. She treated him like a biohazard, strictly referring to him as the family member.
Worse, she didn't recognize Buddy. She comforted their crying son with the same gentle warmth she used to reserve for Elmore, completely unaware she was soothing the baby she thought had died.
Days later, Elmore watched from the shadows as she picked up another boy outside a prep school, her left hand flashing a massive diamond engagement ring.
When his butler accidentally recognized her, Kendal shielded her new stepson with pure disgust in her eyes.
"Tell that psychopath to sign the divorce papers immediately. I have a new family now."
The words 'new family' echoed in Elmore's skull, tearing him apart. For eight years, he had lived in a hell of guilt and madness, raising their son in the shadow of her ghost. How could she just erase their past? How could she give her tender smiles to a stranger and look at him with absolute revulsion?
Standing in a luxury ballroom, Elmore squeezed his hand until his crystal champagne flute shattered, thick blood dripping onto the rug. The murderous obsession in his dark eyes returned as he called his lawyer.
"Freeze her divorce application. Use every dirty trick in the book. She isn't leaving."
8.9
Five years ago, Arabella Sterling vanished without a trace, disgraced, heartbroken, and branded her billionaire benefactor's dirty secret.
What the world never knew was that she'd also been his wife.
Or that the man she loved-and the son she gave everything for-chose another woman over her.
Now, she's back as The Reformer, a world-renowned business strategist celebrated for resurrecting dying empires.
Her newest client? The Sterling Group.
Her ex-husband's empire.
Adrian Sterling has spent years trying to atone for the lies that destroyed them both.
But when Arabella walks into his boardroom, colder, sharper, untouchable...he realizes redemption may come at a cost he can't pay.
Because this time, she's not here to save him.
She's here to ruin him.
9.3
For years, Gabriela believed the man beside her would be the one she grew old with. They had loved each other since they were young, but in the end, all those years meant nothing beside a younger woman's smile.
Returning from a business trip, she uncovered his betrayal with brutal clarity. Still, she did not cry or beg. She took out her phone, recorded every damning second, and filed for divorce the moment she could.
Afterward, she rebuilt her life into something brighter, richer, and stronger, even marrying a powerful tycoon. As for her ex and his shameless mistress, they could rot together.
7.5
I was tied to a concrete pillar in an abandoned warehouse, the heavy stench of gasoline suffocating me.
Ten steps away, a masked kidnapper slammed a loaded Glock onto a metal barrel and forced my husband, Alvie, to make a sick choice.
"The wife or the mistress. You only get to walk out of here with one."
Alvie didn't even blink.
He walked straight toward the dark corner where his mistress, Gail, was crying. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, shielding her, and guided her toward the exit.
He never looked back. He didn't cast a single glance over his shoulder. To him, I was already a corpse, just trash left on the pavement.
The kidnapper laughed and tossed a lighter onto the soaked concrete floor.
A wall of ghostly blue fire erupted instantly, swallowing me whole. The absolute agony of my skin blistering and melting shattered my sanity.
In my last moments, consumed by the inferno, I couldn't understand how the man I had loved and served so submissively could leave me to burn alive. My heartbreak quickly morphed into a hatred far deeper than the flames.
Then, I violently jerked awake.
I shot up from the bed, gasping for cold air, my hands frantically checking my perfectly smooth, unburned skin.
I looked at the desk clock. I had returned to exactly four years ago, the morning of the annual Gallagher family gathering.
The fragile, naive wife died in that warehouse. This time, I am going to destroy them both.
7.6
Overnight, Ella lost her family, her home, and her entire life. Discarded by the foster system, she was left shivering in the freezing mud outside her ruined estate.
That was when Javier Shepherd appeared. The terrifyingly cold, powerful billionaire pulled her from the dirt, threw her into a massive glass penthouse, handed her an unlimited black card, and vanished overseas, leaving her in the hands of a cruel caretaker.
The caretaker treated Ella like garbage, feeding her cheap, processed meals while using the black card to buy designer bags. The toxic food triggered a severe allergic reaction. Ella collapsed in the dark hallway, her throat swelling shut, gasping for air while the caretaker locked the door and turned up the TV. She almost died on that cold hardwood floor.
When Javier found out, he ruthlessly destroyed the caretaker and sent her to prison. He guarded Ella's hospital bed with terrifying intensity and even moved into her apartment to stop her panic attacks. Yet, when Ella finally broke down crying over her dead parents, his eyes turned to ice.
"Losing emotional control over a juvenile past is an inefficient waste of energy."
He sneered, treating her grief like a bad financial investment. Ella was completely bewildered. Why did this dangerous man protect her so fiercely, yet hate her past so deeply?
It wasn't until his cousin visited the hospital that the cruel truth was revealed. Javier wasn't saving her out of kindness. He had been obsessed with Ella's mother—his family's adopted daughter who ran away years ago. To him, Ella wasn't a person to be loved. She was just a replacement asset, a ghost of the woman he never got over.