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 6
"Buy this building," Jarrod commanded into the phone, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. "You have five minutes."
He hung up the phone and slipped it back into his pocket. He kept his arm wrapped securely around Kassie's waist, watching the two people across from him with the detached interest of a predator watching its prey.
Liam stared at him for a second before bursting into a fit of hysterical laughter.
"You're insane!" Liam yelled, pointing at Jarrod. "You watch too many Hollywood movies, buddy. You can't just buy a Manhattan high-rise in five minutes!"
Janiyah Alford giggled, leaning against Liam. "It's so pathetic. He's trying so hard."
Kassie's heart was hammering against her ribs. She reached up and nervously tugged at the sleeve of Jarrod's suit jacket. She was terrified this was going to escalate into a physical fight.
Jarrod felt her trembling fingers. He reached down, covering her small hand with his large, warm palm, giving it a firm squeeze. Watch, his silence commanded.
The minutes ticked by. The cafe remained dead silent. Liam smirked, pulling out his phone to call the building security.
Right as the fifth minute ended, a deafening roar of heavy engines shattered the quiet street outside.
Four massive, armored black Maybachs aggressively swerved onto the curb, completely blocking the street in front of the cafe.
Liam and Janiyah Alford's smiles vanished instantly. They stared out the window in absolute horror.
Over a dozen massive men in black suits, wearing earpieces, poured out of the vehicles. They moved with military precision, securing the perimeter.
Two bodyguards marched up to the cafe and shoved the heavy glass doors open, holding them wide.
A man in a sharp navy suit-Alex Kent, Jarrod's chief of staff-walked briskly into the room. He carried a leather folder tucked under his arm.
Alex completely ignored Liam and Janiyah Alford. He walked straight up to Jarrod and bowed deeply.
"Mr. Holt," Alex said, his voice echoing in the dead silent room. He held out the folder with both hands. "The deed has been transferred. The building is now legally yours."
Liam's knees literally buckled. He grabbed the edge of the table to stop himself from collapsing onto the floor.
He worked on Wall Street. He knew exactly what the name 'Holt' meant. It was the apex predator of the financial world. The Holt family could bankrupt his entire investment firm with a single phone call.
Janiyah Alford's face turned the color of ash. Her hands shook so violently that her limited-edition Birkin bag slipped from her fingers and crashed onto the floor.
Jarrod didn't even look at the folder. He raised his hand and pointed casually toward the VIP lounge area where Liam and Janiyah Alford had been sitting.
"The decor offends me," Jarrod said to Alex, his tone bored. "Smash it."
Alex didn't hesitate for a fraction of a second. He turned and gave a sharp hand signal to the bodyguards waiting by the door.
The men flooded into the cafe. They pulled heavy steel batons from their belts.
CRASH.
A bodyguard swung his baton, shattering a massive crystal chandelier into a thousand pieces. Another man drove his boot into the Italian leather sofa, ripping the material to shreds. Glass shattered. Wood splintered.
Janiyah Alford screamed in pure terror, covering her ears.
Liam fell to his knees, his mouth opening and closing like a dying fish as he watched the space he had just bragged about buying get violently, systematically destroyed.
Jarrod pulled Kassie firmly against his chest. He raised his large hands and covered her ears, shielding her from the deafening noise and the flying shards of glass.
When the destruction was complete, the cafe looked like a war zone.
Jarrod slowly walked over to where Liam was cowering on the floor. He looked down at the pathetic man.
"Tomorrow morning," Jarrod stated, his voice slicing through the dust-filled air, "your firm will fire you to prevent Holt Enterprises from pulling our accounts. You are finished."
Jarrod turned away. He wrapped his arm around Kassie's completely paralyzed body and guided her through the wreckage, walking out the door and into the waiting Maybach.
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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.