Flash Marriage To The Secret Chairman
To escape my toxic ex-fiancé and the father who froze my assets, I entered a contract marriage with Barrett, a cold but protective corporate consultant.
I thought he was my safe harbor. I even confided my secret, ruthless strategy to take back control of my company from my ex.
But at the most critical board meeting, a mysterious new chairman dialed in.
The synthesized voice coming through the speakerphone systematically dismantled the board and took over the company, using the exact, word-for-word strategy I had only ever whispered to my husband in the dead of night.
My ex-fiancé turned pale with panic. The board members were stunned into silence.
And I sat there, my blood running completely cold.
The man who had held my hand in the hospital, who had slept in my bed, and who had promised to protect me, had just committed the ultimate corporate espionage.
Every tender touch, every late-night confession—was it all just a calculated move to steal my life's work? How could the only person who made me feel safe use my deepest vulnerabilities to orchestrate my ruin?
I packed up my files, walked straight out of that boardroom, and prepared to disappear from his life forever.
But when I fled to my best friend's apartment to hide, I looked out the window.
The ruthless mastermind who had just stolen my empire was standing completely still in the freezing downpour, waiting for me to come down.
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Chapter 4
The bronze doors of the municipal building swung outward, and Evangelina flinched at the afternoon sun. She raised her hand to shield her eyes, and Barrett moved with her, positioning himself between her and the light.
She looked down at her left hand. The diamond caught the sun, throwing fire against her skin. The weight of it was alien, a constant reminder of what she'd just done.
"We need ground rules," she said, her voice finding its professional edge. "This marriage doesn't exist publicly. Not yet. My family-my stepmother specifically-is hunting for my next contractual obligation. If she learns I've married without her approval, without her profit, she'll make my life a litigation nightmare."
Barrett's expression didn't change, but something flickered in his eyes. Approval, perhaps. Or calculation.
"Agreed," he said. "Discretion serves my interests as well. My... family has expectations regarding appropriate matches. They don't need to know I've exercised independent judgment."
"Independent judgment." Evangelina almost laughed. "Is that what we're calling this?"
"Public distance," Barrett continued, as if she hadn't spoken. "No social media connections. No joint appearances at professional functions unless specifically requested. Separate residences, separate financial accounts, separate social circles."
He held out his hand. "Your phone."
Evangelina hesitated, then surrendered it. Barrett's thumbs moved across the screen with practiced efficiency. He entered a number, dialed it, and his own pocket buzzed.
"Emergency contact," he said, handing the device back. "Only my private line. No assistants, no secretaries. If you need me, you reach me."
The screen showed a new entry. Mr. Watson. The formality of it felt like a barrier rather than a bridge.
"I don't need-"
"You have my number," Barrett said. "That's non-negotiable."
A black Mercedes S-Class glided to the curb below the steps. The windows were tinted, the grille discreet, but the body lines spoke of money that didn't need to announce itself. Evangelina felt her assessment shift, recalibrating.
"A client's car," Barrett said, following her gaze. "Easier than finding a car service on short notice. I borrowed it for the occasion."
The driver's door didn't open. No one emerged to open Barrett's door. The car simply waited, patient as a predator.
"I'll take an Uber," Evangelina said. "To my office. I have work."
Barrett studied her for a moment. Then he nodded, once, a gesture of acknowledgment rather than agreement.
"Dinner," he said. "Tonight. We should align our cover stories. In case your stepmother investigates."
"I'll check my calendar."
"Eight o'clock." Barrett reached into his jacket and withdrew a slim card case. He pressed a business card into her palm-different from the first, this one bearing the logo of a consulting firm she'd heard of in passing. Respectable. Mid-tier. Unthreatening. "I'll text you the location."
He descended the steps. The Mercedes's rear door opened from the inside, and Barrett folded himself into the shadowed interior. The car merged into traffic without sound, without hurry.
Evangelina watched it disappear. Then she opened her Uber app and requested a ride to the Avery Lifestyle building.
The car that arrived was a Toyota Camry, driven by a graduate student who wanted to discuss his screenplay. Evangelina made appropriate noises and stared out the window at the passing city, her thumb tracing the unfamiliar weight on her finger.
In the back of the S-Class, Barrett Watson removed his jacket and loosened his tie. The temperature in the cabin dropped ten degrees.
"K.C.," he said.
The driver's eyes met his in the rearview mirror. "Sir."
"Gus Petrovic. Everything. Business holdings, political connections, outstanding litigation. And find out why Darrien Avery missed his appointment this morning."
"Already done, sir." K.C. Stone's fingers moved across a tablet mounted to the dashboard. "Avery was at Mount Sinai Hospital. The stepdaughter, Jenelle Hobbs, posted from the emergency room at 10:47 AM. Panic attack, allegedly."
Barrett took the tablet. The photograph showed a young woman in hospital linens, her makeup intact, her smile directed at the camera rather than any medical professional. Behind her, partially visible, a man's shoulder in a familiar suit.
"Suppress it," Barrett said. "All platforms. I don't want that name trending."
"Sir?"
"She wanted attention." Barrett's voice was ice. "She wanted to humiliate my wife. Deny her the satisfaction."
K.C.'s eyebrows rose, but his fingers were already moving. "And the dinner reservation, sir? You mentioned Per Se."
"Chef's Table. The window facing the park." Barrett stared out at the passing city, seeing nothing. "And K.C.?"
"Sir?"
"Find out what she likes. Flowers, wine, music. Everything."
"Mrs. Watson, sir?"
Barrett's reflection in the darkened glass showed a smile that would have terrified anyone who knew him.
"Mrs. Watson," he confirmed.
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7.8
Alexis signed the divorce papers, leaving her with no assets, no alimony, and just the clothes on her back.
To forget her abusive husband Carlos, she got drunk and bought a high-end gigolo for the night with her last 800 dollars.
But the man she slept with wasn't an escort. He was Jarrett Hughes, a ruthless billionaire CEO.
And while she was gone, her ex-husband was busy destroying her entire life.
Carlos framed her with fake photos of her cheating to justify the penniless divorce.
Then came the real nightmare.
Carlos and her own aunt secretly drained her family's corporate accounts, driving her father to jump off a building.
At the hospital, her grieving mother blamed her for the tragedy, violently attacking her in the ER.
To top it off, her cousin Josie—who was secretly sleeping with Carlos—held her father's ashes hostage.
"Crawl on your knees and pick it up, or the ashes go in the river," Josie sneered, throwing cash into the freezing slush.
Stripped of her marriage, her father, and her dignity, Alexis sat bleeding in the snow.
She couldn't understand why the people she loved most had coordinated such a brutal slaughter against her.
But Carlos and Josie made one fatal mistake.
They didn't know the "gigolo" Alexis had accidentally bought was the most powerful man in New York.
Alexis looked at the towering billionaire standing behind her, a vengeful fire burning in her eyes.
"I need you to get my father's ashes back," she said, pulling him into a kiss right in front of her ex-husband. "I don't care what it takes."
8.2
I spent three years playing the role of a submissive, small-town wife for Evertt Baker, trading my true identity for a quiet life in a Manhattan penthouse. I thought my devotion would be enough to build a real home, but I was just a placeholder in his grand design.
The illusion shattered at 2 AM when Evertt walked in smelling of Chanel No. 5-the signature scent of his mistress, Adda. Without a word of apology, he dropped divorce papers on the table, demanding I sign them immediately so he could finally be with the woman he truly loved.
He looked at me with pure disgust, flicking a five-million-dollar check toward me as if he were paying off an incompetent employee. He told me it was more money than anyone from my "trailer park" background would ever see and ordered me to hurry because Adda was waiting in the car downstairs. He didn't care that I had spent years nursing him through illness and tolerating his family's insults; he only cared about his own convenience.
The sheer arrogance of his payout and the blatant disrespect of bringing his mistress to our home was the final blow. I realized that the man I loved never actually saw me, only the submissive shadow I had forced myself to become.
I signed the papers with a fluid scrawl he didn't bother to check, then I fed his millions into the office shredder. I pulled a hidden, encrypted device from a kitchen drawer and dialed a number I hadn't called in three years.
"Brother," I said, my voice finally steady. "Come get me. The game is over."
Evertt thought he was discarding a penniless nobody, but he was about to find out that he had just declared war on the Stafford empire.
9.2
Averie spent hours preparing a perfect third-anniversary dinner for her billionaire husband, Jarett Sharp.
Instead of celebrating, she received an anonymous photo of him intimately holding another woman.
When Jarett finally arrived, he didn't even look guilty.
"Candida. It's okay. Don't be scared. I'm on my way."
He simply took a call from his mistress, shoved Averie aside, and walked right back out the door.
That same night, Averie's father suffered a massive heart attack.
The hospital demanded a half-million-dollar deposit before they would operate.
But when Averie frantically tried to use the emergency medical trust card Jarett had given her, it was declined.
Jarett had deliberately frozen her access to the funds just hours earlier.
While she begged his assistant on the phone, Jarett refused to be disturbed, busy wrapping his expensive coat around his mistress in the hospital garden.
Averie collapsed in the hallway, realizing the man she loved was deliberately letting her father die.
In the end, a childhood friend stepped in to pay the bill and save her father's life, while her billionaire husband later pinned her to their bed, throwing a check at her and reminding her he had bought her for three million dollars.
Averie didn't shed a single tear.
She slowly ripped his check into pieces, left her massive diamond ring on the dresser, and walked out into the cold New York night with nothing but her old suitcase.
She pulled out her phone and dialed her old ballet professor.
She wasn't just going to leave Jarett Sharp. She was going to destroy him.
9.2
After his father passes away, Darnell becomes the new heir to King Hotels. But his grandfather-who owns shares of the hotels-wants Darnell to marry to earn his (Grandfather's) shares before his death.
After her father's death, Sasha and her family are left to deal with the burden he leaves behind-a huge debt owed to loan sharks.
Darnell approaches Sasha with a two-month marriage contract for five million dollars-enough to pay off her father's debt and be free from her traditional mother. She accepts.
Things are complicated when grandfather doesn't die after two months, and Sasha is being extorted by loan sharks. She and Darnell must stay married for their benefit, despite their lack of affection for each other. Eventually, they fall in love.
But drama unfolds when family secrets are exposed, old lovers resurface, and unknown families appear. Darnell and Sasha must decide if their love is worth it all.
7.0
"Sign the divorce papers, Olivia... or I'll make sure you never wake up again."
I thought marriage meant love, loyalty, and forever. But the night I overheard my husband plotting my downfall with my sister-in-law, my world shattered. The man I had sacrificed everything for was only after my family's wealth and worse, he wanted me dead.
Drugged. Betrayed. Left bleeding while he ran to the arms of his ex. That was Marcus Thompson, the man everyone believed was the perfect billionaire husband.
But I won't go down quietly. With enemies in my own family and assassins at my doorstep, I must fight back. And when David, the man who risked his life to save mine, steps in, I begin to see what true love really feels like.
Now, I'm trapped between a husband who would rather bury me than let me go, and a man willing to risk everything to protect me.
In a world built on lies, betrayal, and deadly secrets... who can I trust when even love could be a weapon?
8.6
Desperation is one of the world's worst vices. It can control the lives of people, including the poor, the middle class, and surprisingly, the wealthy.
Elena Parker is the only child of Mr and Mrs Desmond Parker,the well known billionaires in the city ranked among the top three richest men in the world.
Her relentless search for a partner to produce an heir to the riches seemed to no avail until one faithful day which forever changed her life.