Flash Marriage To The Vengeful CEO
Debora went to prison to protect the man she loved, only to end up a paroled convict living under the roof of her abusive foster parents.
When they found her positive pregnancy test from a one-night stand, they threatened to kick her out and send her straight back to a cell.
Just as they were about to report her, the stranger from that dark hotel room suddenly appeared.
He paid her foster parents one million dollars to marry her and take her away.
Debora thought she was finally safe.
But the moment they were alone, he looked at her with pure, venomous hatred.
He didn't want a wife; he wanted a prisoner.
He believed Debora was the ruthless murderer who had destroyed his life in a car crash, and he planned to make her suffocate in her own despair.
He didn't know she was just a scapegoat.
To survive and protect her baby, Debora found a job at a bridal shop, only to run into the real culprit—the man who actually drove the car and framed her.
He was now happily engaged to a wealthy heiress.
They deliberately ruined a priceless wedding gown and blamed it on her.
"Kneel on this floor and apologize, or I'm calling the police to revoke your parole!"
Why did she have to rot in hell for his sins, while the man she married wanted to destroy her?
Just as her trembling knees were about to touch the cold marble floor, the heavy glass doors were violently shoved open.
Her billionaire husband strode in like a force of nature, his eyes locked onto the wealthy couple with a terrifying, destructive rage.
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Chapter 1
Debora's hands shook so violently that the plastic stick tapped against the edge of the porcelain sink.
Two solid pink lines.
The air vanished from her lungs. She sucked in a harsh breath, the smell of cheap bleach and mildew burning her throat. Her left hand flew to her flat stomach, pressing hard against the thin cotton of her t-shirt. Her heart slammed against her ribs, a frantic, erratic rhythm that made her dizzy.
"Debora! Get out of there!" Marlene's shrill voice pierced through the thin wooden door, accompanied by the heavy thud of a fist. "You've been in there for twenty minutes!"
Panic, cold and sharp, spiked in Debora's chest. She fumbled with the pregnancy test, her slick fingers struggling to grip it. She unrolled a long strip of scratchy toilet paper, wrapping the plastic stick over and over until it looked like a thick, white bandage.
She shoved the wrapped bundle deep into the small trash can, burying it under crumpled tissues and empty toothpaste tubes.
She turned on the cold tap, splashed water onto her pale cheeks, and took a shuddering breath. Her fingers were still trembling as she reached for the doorknob and turned it.
Before she could pull the door open, it was violently shoved inward.
Marlene barreled into the cramped bathroom, her heavy frame nearly knocking Debora into the bathtub. Marlene's eyes, lined with smeared black pencil, raked over Debora with pure disgust.
"Worthless," Marlene spat. "A paroled convict living under my roof. You bring nothing but shame to this family."
Debora kept her head down, her jaw clamped shut. She turned her body sideways, trying to squeeze past her foster mother and escape into the hallway.
But Marlene stopped. Her eyes narrowed with malicious suspicion as she noticed Debora's defensive posture. Without warning, Marlene kicked the small trash can with her heavy boot. The plastic bin tipped over, spilling its contents across the scuffed tiles. Amidst the crumpled tissues and empty toothpaste tubes, the thick, white toilet paper bundle rolled out, looking entirely out of place.
Debora's stomach plummeted. She lunged forward, but she was a second too late.
Marlene bent down and snatched the bundle. She ripped the toilet paper away. The two pink lines glared under the flickering bathroom bulb.
The silence in the bathroom was suffocating. Marlene's face morphed from confusion to shock, and then to a deep, ugly shade of red.
A piercing shriek ripped from Marlene's throat. Her hand shot out, her fingers twisting into Debora's hair.
"Ah!" Debora gasped, the sharp pain radiating across her scalp.
Marlene yanked hard, dragging Debora out of the bathroom. Debora stumbled, her knees hitting the scuffed hardwood floor of the hallway. Marlene didn't stop, pulling her all the way into the dimly lit living room and shoving her hard.
Debora crashed to the floor beside the frayed sofa, her shoulder taking the brunt of the impact.
Burt, her foster father, paused the television. He pushed himself out of his recliner, his bushy eyebrows pulling together. "What the hell is going on?"
Marlene slammed the pregnancy test down on the stained coffee table. "Your precious charity case is pregnant! A convicted felon and now a whore!"
Burt's face hardened into a mask of fury. He crossed the room in three heavy strides and stood over Debora, pointing a thick, calloused finger at her face.
"Who is it?" Burt roared, the smell of stale beer washing over her. "Who is the bastard? You listen to me. You get rid of it, or you pack your trash and get out of my house today."
Debora bit down on her lower lip until she tasted copper. She curled her body inward, her arms wrapping tightly around her stomach. If they kicked her out, she would have no registered address. Her parole officer would be notified. She would go straight back to prison.
"I'm not getting rid of it," Debora whispered, her voice shaking but her grip on her stomach iron-clad.
"You ungrateful bitch!" Marlene raised her hand, her palm aimed right at Debora's cheek.
Debora squeezed her eyes shut, her muscles locking as she braced for the sting.
A sharp, loud buzz from the doorbell shattered the tension.
Marlene's hand froze mid-air. Burt cursed under his breath, turning away from Debora and stomping toward the front door.
"I swear to God, if it's another salesman," Burt muttered, yanking the front door open.
Debora opened her eyes, her breath catching in her throat.
A man stood on the porch. He was tall, his broad shoulders easily filling the doorframe. He wore a dark, tailored suit that looked expensive but lacked any flashy logos. His face was carved from stone-sharp jaw, straight nose, and eyes the color of a frozen ocean.
Those icy blue eyes bypassed Burt completely, cutting through the dim living room to lock directly onto Debora, who was still huddled on the floor.
The man didn't introduce himself to Burt. He didn't even look at him. His deep, gravelly voice resonated through the small house, carrying zero warmth but absolute authority.
"I am the father of that child. And I am here to marry her."
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8.0
When gifted cellist Vivienne Aurel inherits her late father's catastrophic $4.2 million debt, she expects to lose everything. She doesn't expect the debt to be bought by Caspian Vane, the most feared private equity magnate in New York. Caspian doesn't want to ruin her; he wants her to work exclusively for him as the artistic director of his new cultural foundation for eighteen months. Forced into his world under a binding agreement, Vivienne prepares to fight against a cold, transactional cage. But as the intense, quiet proximity between them begins to blur the lines of their contract, she discovers a terrifying truth: the man who now owns her future has been watching her from the shadows long before she ever knew his name.
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.
8.9
For three years, Alana acted as the sole tactical brain for the Dawnbreaker squad, keeping them alive despite being labeled a useless "Dud" Conduit.
But right before the crucial Ascension Trials, squad leader Cash handed her a corporate sponsorship contract. The condition? She had to become the "private companion" to a greasy corporate heir just so the squad could get high-tier gear.
When she refused, the teammates she had bled for unanimously voted to kick her out.
"You're just window dressing, a liability."
They revoked her safehouse access, burned her belongings, and the academy advisor even tried to force her into a state-sanctioned breeding program. They left her to freeze in the slums, betting she would desperately crawl into the rich man's bed.
What they didn't know was that her inability to summon an Eidolon wasn't a lack of talent. Her teammate Dallin had been secretly sabotaging her rituals for years, crippling her potential just to keep her chained as their free tactician.
Stripped of everything and pushed to the absolute brink, Alana's despair morphed into a deadly resolve.
Using a million-credit black market loan and a forbidden blood matrix, she forcibly anchored an Apex-Tier cosmic wolf disguised as a harmless silver pup.
When her ex-squad tried to publicly humiliate her and burn her new "pet" alive in the cafeteria, a flash of silver light severed Dallin's hand instantly.
Looking at her screaming former teammates, Alana finally smiled.
7.1
I waited a year for my mate, Alpha Justin, to return from the border war. While he was gone, I used my ten-million-dollar dowry to keep his crumbling pack afloat and buy life-saving elixirs for his mother.
But when he finally walked through the door, he reeked of another female's scent.
He brought back Gamma Brenna and a Royal Decree, coldly announcing she would be his "Co-Luna."
His family, who survived entirely on my wealth, immediately turned on me. They mocked me for being a wolfless orphan since my father and brothers were slaughtered defending the kingdom.
"You're just a fragile woman who belongs hidden away," Justin told me.
They demanded I accept this humiliation, step aside for his new warrior mate, and continue funding their luxurious lifestyle. Justin even arrogantly offered to sleep with me just once to give me a pup as a "consolation prize," declaring his heart and body belonged entirely to Brenna.
They thought my ruined pack meant I had no backing. They thought I was a pathetic victim who would cling to their scraps and accept a polluted mate-bond just to avoid being cast out into the woods as a Rogue.
They had no idea I had already visited the Alpha King.
I wasn't going to cry, and I certainly wasn't going to share my mate. I packed up every last cent of my ten million dollars, secured a Royal Severance Decree, and prepared to watch their arrogant pack starve to death.
9.0
Eileen woke up in a trashed hotel room, her head pounding with the pathetic memories of a despised Hollywood actress.
Outside the window, paparazzi were already screaming about her manufactured cheating scandal, but the real nightmare was waiting at her door.
Her paralyzed, billionaire husband, Carlisle Vinson, looked at her with pure disgust while his butler shoved a divorce settlement at her chest.
"Mr. Vinson is offering a severance package of fifty million dollars, provided you sign immediately and vacate the premises."
The original owner had left her an absolute mess.
Her trusted assistant had sold her room number to the press to frame her, and a playboy had scammed her out of her entire two million dollar life savings.
If she signed those papers and lost the Vinson family's protection, the breach of contract fees and her enemies in the industry would swallow her alive in days.
Eileen felt a cold fury override the original owner's lingering panic.
Why should she take the fall and be thrown out on the streets while the parasites who set her up lived out their wealthy fantasies?
She had died once, and she wasn't about to waste her second chance playing the victim.
Eileen slammed the heavy divorce folder shut right against the butler's chest.
"I'm not signing," she said with a terrifying, absolute calm.
She stepped behind her husband's wheelchair, ready to shield him from the cameras, secretly cure his dead legs, and make everyone who betrayed her bleed.
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.