Flash Marriage To The Secret Zillionaire Boss
Minutes before announcing her grand engagement, Darla caught her fiancé sleeping with her stepsister.
She publicly exposed them and canceled the wedding on the spot.
Furious, her adoptive mother demanded Darla marry a fifty-five-year-old predator to save their broken business deal.
"If you don't do exactly what I say, I'll let your father rot in prison for the rest of his life."
Desperate to escape her family's control, Darla grabbed a massive, intimidating hotel security guard she bumped into in the hallway.
She shoved all the cash in her purse at him—eight hundred dollars—and begged him to fake-marry her.
They signed the papers at City Hall that same day.
But the nightmare didn't end.
That evening, Darla received a cold phone call from the state penitentiary.
Her father had been found dead in his cell, and her company, owned by her ex-fiancé's family, fired her immediately.
They had taken everything from her, leaving her completely broken and sobbing on the floor of her tiny apartment.
She thought she had nothing left but a broke, fake husband to keep her company.
She had no idea that the "poor security guard" holding her in his arms was actually Anson Prince, a ruthless billionaire CEO.
And he was already making the calls to tear her abusers' empires to the ground.
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Chapter 5
The cool Manhattan wind whipped Darla's hair across her face as she stood on the sidewalk. The streetlights cast long, harsh shadows on the pavement.
Darla gently pulled her hand out of Anson's grip. She took a step back, putting a polite distance between them.
She unclasped her silver clutch and pulled out the rest of the cash she had on her. It was about three hundred dollars.
She held the money out to him. "Thank you. For everything. Your acting was incredible, and... thank you for stopping Rudy."
Anson looked down at the crumpled bills in her hand. He stayed quiet for two agonizing seconds before he reached out and took the money.
"I'm sorry it's not much," Darla said, wrapping her arms around herself to ward off the chill. "When I get my next paycheck, I can send you the rest of what I owe you."
A low, rich chuckle vibrated in Anson's chest. "This covers my rate."
Darla smiled faintly. He was broke, but he had pride. She liked that about him.
"What's your full name?" Darla asked. "If any of my friends ever need security, I'll recommend you."
Anson reached into the inner pocket of his jacket. He pulled out a matte black card and handed it to her.
Darla took it. The card was heavy, expensive cardstock. There was no company logo. No address. Just a single word stamped in silver foil: ANSON. Beneath it was a phone number.
"No last name?" Darla asked, her brow furrowing.
"I take private contracts," Anson lied smoothly, his face a mask of calm. "I keep a low profile."
Darla nodded, slipping the heavy card into her clutch. It made sense. A guy with his skills probably worked off the books.
A yellow cab pulled up to the curb. Darla opened the door and slid onto the cracked vinyl seat.
Anson stood on the sidewalk, his hands in his pockets. His dark eyes locked onto hers through the open window.
"Get home safe," he murmured.
Darla nodded and rolled up the window. The cab merged into the busy traffic. She leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes, letting the exhaustion pull her under.
Anson watched the taillights of the cab until they disappeared around the corner.
The moment she was out of sight, the mild, accommodating expression vanished from his face. His jaw clenched. His eyes turned back to black ice.
He turned and walked down a narrow, unlit alleyway beside the hotel, putting several dark, quiet blocks between himself and the venue before stopping on a deserted corner. A custom, pitch-black Maybach glided silently out of the shadows and stopped right in front of him.
Isaac Kerr, his executive assistant, jumped out of the driver's seat and pulled open the rear door.
Anson slid into the luxurious leather interior. He tossed the crumpled hundreds onto the polished walnut bar without a second glance.
Isaac looked at the cash through the rearview mirror. He swallowed hard. "Boss... did you really let her pay you? Eight hundred dollars?"
Anson reached up and yanked his tie loose. He shot Isaac a glare so lethal it made the assistant shrink in his seat.
Isaac quickly cleared his throat and handed a thick manila folder over the center console. "The background check on the Hammond and Mosley families, sir."
Anson opened the folder. His eyes scanned the pages, stopping on the police report regarding Darla's adoptive father, David Hammond.
"Put a team on the Mosleys," Anson ordered, his voice cold and sharp. "If they get within ten feet of Darla, break their legs."
Isaac's eyes widened. Anson Prince, the ruthless CEO of MUA Group, never got personally involved with anyone.
Anson looked out the tinted window at the passing city lights. He could still feel the phantom warmth of Darla's small hand in his.
"Drive," Anson commanded.
The Maybach accelerated smoothly, heading toward the most expensive penthouse overlooking Central Park.
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9.7
I died with blood pooling and betrayal.
My fiancé never loved me-he only wanted. My stepsister never saw me as family. And when I discovered I was carrying his child and tried to expose their affair, they shoved me into a shattered glass table and left me to bleed out alone.
But I woke up a year earlier, with my voice miraculously returned and a second chance burning in my chest.
This time, I refuse to be the silent, obedient sacrifice they used and discarded. This time, I'll make them pay. And when a ruthless billionaire offers me an impossible deal-a fake marriage to save his crumbling empire, I accept without hesitation.
They still see me as that broken, voiceless girl who couldn't fight back.
They have no idea I've already won.
8.9
For fifteen years, I thought my mother had died in a tragic fire.
Then the wealthy Ross family's butler knocked on my door, revealing she was alive—locked away in the psychiatric annex of their massive estate.
I rushed into the lion's den to save her, only to run straight into Graydon Ross, the ruthless billionaire CEO.
He looked at my cheap clothes with pure disgust, convinced I was a bottom-feeding scammer trying to extort his family.
"Throw this bitch out into the snow."
He ordered his armed guards to drag me away, completely cutting off my only chance to see my mentally broken mother.
But as he violently grabbed my collar to throw me out, I saw a custom eagle-head cufflink hanging from his coat pocket.
My blood turned to ice, and a wave of paralyzing terror crashed over me.
Eight months ago, I accidentally slept with a masked stranger in a pitch-black hotel room and fled before dawn.
That cufflink belonged to him.
The man who took my virginity—the Wall Street tyrant I had been hiding from—was Graydon Ross.
If he ever found out I was that woman, he would literally destroy my life.
But to save my mother, I couldn't be thrown out.
When his grandmother suddenly appeared, I dropped to the floor, exposed the dark bruises Graydon had just left on my wrists, and sobbed.
I framed the billionaire for assault to secure my place in the mansion, forcing myself to live right next door to the monster whose bed I had fled.
9.5
How far are you willing to go for your family's company?
Eloise Jane Lopez is the one true child of the Lopezes, and due to her sick father's wish, she needs to marry a man she doesn't know to keep the company her parents manage in order. And the man she will marry is none other than Cosmo Dominguez, a multi-billionaire, whose supposed fiancée was Eloise's step-sister but got pregnant, leaving Eloise with no choice but to be the substitute bride.
After the wedding, Cosmo laid out another agreement with Eloise, that the marriage would only be temporary, and that they would have to separate after two years.
Can they uphold the signed agreement until the end, or can they stop the feelings forming between them?
7.4
Frieda married Dewitt believing he was just a struggling middle-manager, living in a cramped apartment with only seventy-two dollars left to her name.
She had no idea her cold husband was actually a ruthless billionaire running a cruel psychological test on her. Convinced she might be a gold digger, Dewitt gave her a meager allowance, keeping the divorce papers ready the moment she showed any greed.
While Dewitt secretly judged her every move, Frieda suffered endlessly. At her toxic workplace, she was relentlessly bullied by her arrogant in-laws and mocked for her scuffed shoes. Even after she risked her life to protect his grandmother from an armed mugger and exposed her own hidden tech genius, her coworkers still treated her like trailer-park trash. They cornered her on the street, pointing fingers in her face.
"You are a shameless, gold-digging whore! A billionaire would never want you!"
She endured the humiliation, having just rejected a priceless no-limit black card from his family out of pure principle. She truly believed she and her husband were fighting through poverty together. She had no idea her "poor" husband was watching her every struggle from the tinted windows of a hidden Maybach across the street.
But when her bullies finally pushed too far and raised a hand to strike her, the icy wall around the billionaire's heart completely shattered. Dewitt tore up the divorce papers, his eyes turning pitch black with murderous rage.
"If anyone ever raises a hand to her again, break it."
9.3
Penelope's wedding day should have been perfect-until she found her best friend in her fiancé's bed.
Running from the ruins of her future, she fell into one night with a stranger whose touch felt like safety. No names. No future. Just escape.
Until two pink lines changed everything.
Years later, Penelope returns with twins, a stronger heart, and no plans to fall in love again. But fate traps her in close quarters with a ruthless billionaire... who happens to be the man from that unforgettable night. He doesn't know she's the bride who disappeared. He doesn't know the children are his.
Old enemies want revenge. Old secrets refuse to stay buried.
And the man who swore he would never love... kneels.
7.5
When Alessia Romano's ex-husband destroys her family's company to drag her back to him, she refuses to beg. But refusing comes at a cost she never expected.
Billionaire Adrian Virelli pays off every debt and saves Romano Industries from ruin. The price is simple. Three years of her life, living under his roof as his daughter's nanny.
Adrian is cold, controlled, and completely off limits. Alessia tells herself she feels nothing.
But when she discovers a hidden room filled with portraits of a woman wearing her face, the truth hits harder than any betrayal she has ever known
She was never the woman he wanted. She was only a replacement.
She walks away. Then his ex-wife returns, and the danger that follows is nothing like Alessia expected. Someone wants her dead, Adrian nearly dies saving her life, and when he finally opens his eyes again, he remembers nothing.
His ex-wife is standing at his bedside, ready to rewrite every memory he has left.
And Alessia is running out of time to make the man she loves remember that he loved her too.