Hate To Love You My Billionaire Lover

Arianna’s family was falling apart and facing a tragic demise; however, her heart sank when she clearly saw Travis Cooper’s name on the acquisition papers. She had no choice but to negotiate with him. Arianna lowered her head and relaxed her shoulders to ease the tension. She should show him gratefulness to make him happier, she thought, but she just couldn’t do it. “How would you be willing to leave my grandfather alone?” He casually poured her a cup of tea and placed it in front of her before replying, “I think the correct person to ask is the judge, no? The offenders are usually punished. This is a matter of justice, isn’t it?” Arianna was beginning to grow tired of his mood swings. “He is old, and his body is failing him. He would not last long in prison.” Arianna tried to contain her anger. “What can I do? I always admire devoted children.” His voice carried some ridicule, “But I’m not a charity. I only do transactions with interests. What would you do in exchange for the freedom of your grandfather?” Travis intertwined the fingers of his one hand with the other and rested his hands on his stomach as he leaned back in his chair once more. His expression was a bit lazy, “Since you entered this door, I’ve been waiting for the drama of you selling your body and soul to me in order to save your family member.” When Arianna didn’t reply, Travis explicitly said, “Maybe I’m just bored. I’d like to try something fun.” Arianna’s stomach felt like it had flipped. She looked at the handsome face that was now showing evil.

Chapters

Chapter 2

After the meal and closing speeches, the banquet was finally over. However, Melissa and Arianna had to stay until all the guests had left. They were required to assist with any goodbyes and ensure all guests had a ride home.

The women were so relieved once the final guests were waving goodbye. Melissa’s ride had been waiting for her for over half an hour, so she left immediately.

Arianna sighed and smoothly took off her high-heeled shoes and casually looped them through her fingers to carry them. She grabbed her bag and headed for the door, but a waiter informed her, “Miss Jenkins, someone left a note for you.”

He reached into his vest pocket, pulled out the folded piece of paper, and placed it in her hand.

She thanked him and shoved the note into her purse. Once Arianna was out of the building, she opened her bag and drew the note back out.

Written in black pen, the note simply stated, “Hillside.” She could tell that this was a man’s writing.

Hillside was a leisure club that was open all night. It was only ten minutes away from here, she thought.

Arianna decided to go back into the building to check her appearance. She took her hair out of the tight bun she wore for the banquet and shook it loose with her fingers.

Arianna sprayed herself with some perfume once again before slipping back into her heels. She then left the banquet hall for good.

Once in her car, she checked the time; it was already 12:30 a.m., and she took a sip of water. The night was still young.

After parking and entering the club, she was directed through several corridors before reaching the back. It was a secluded parking lot with no lights. Few members could enter here.

A black car was parked in the middle of the lot, blending in with the night.

The driver got out and opened the door for Arianna. She got in without saying a word and slid across the black leather seats.

The driver firmly closed the door, and she could feel the engine vibrate through the car, though it didn’t make much sound.

The person next to her suddenly asked, “Do you mind if I smoke?”

It was not a request but rather a polite announcement that he was about to smoke. Travis Cooper took out his cigarette case and drew one out.

Arianna effortlessly found the car lighter and lit the cigarette for him.

In the flickering light, they briefly looked at each other. His eyes showed no emotion.

She quickly put out the flame and put the lighter back in its place.

As the car grew dark again, the only light was the reddish glow from the cigarette and a faint cloud of smoke.

The smell of tobacco was making her throat a little itchy. She couldn’t help but lean forward and cough a bit, breaking the silence.

When she leaned back into her seat, she felt his arm behind her shoulders.

His muscles were very strong, though far less comfortable than the car cushions. Her shoulder blades began to ache.

To get more comfortable, Arianna turned towards him and leaned back into his body. Travis slowly lifted his arm and embraced her shoulder. He briefly ran his fingers through her hair before resting his hand on the side of her neck.

Arianna held her breath. He continued to slide his fingers down her body and gently stroked the skin on the front of her chest.

Though it was midsummer, his fingers were cool. They spread the cold through Arianna’s body, giving her chills.

Lights from other vehicles flashed through the window, illuminating the driver’s eyes in the rearview mirror. Nonetheless, the young driver was focused on the road.

Arianna whispered in his ear, “When did you come back?”

“Last week.” He turned his head to look out the window.

His voice had a metallic texture, pleasant but cold, just like his fingertips.

His fingers continued to linger around her neck and chest. Finally, he asked, “Why didn’t you find something to cover here? What about your necklace?”

Arianna answered lightly, “It’s a little too flashy for me.”

Travis smiled quietly in the dark.

****

Arianna finally woke up in complete darkness.

She had night blindness and could not see in the dark. This made her afraid of the dark. She usually left a light on when she slept alone.

Though squinting her eyes never helped before, she couldn’t help but try. She felt powerless, as if trapped in a nightmare.

Between her spastic heartbeats, she heard someone breathing deeply next to her.

Relief washed over her. She fumbled for the switch on the table lamp.

When the soft light brightened the room, her body was rejuvenated.

Travis was on the other side of the bed, lying on his stomach. He seemed to be in a deep sleep.

He looked very innocent, Arianna thought.

Melissa was right; with his thick eyebrows, long eyelashes, crisp jawline, and strong figure, he looked like he was from a heroic myth.

But he was too intense for her to appreciate his looks while he was awake.

Arianna gently made a beheading gesture across his neck with her fingers.

She had always wanted to know if someone ever tried to harm him while sleeping and if he would wake up instantly.

This game would be no fun if he took it seriously, so she did not dare to try with a real knife.

Then, she put her hand into the shape of a gun and pointed it at his temple. He did not move.

With a small sigh, she slowly got out of bed to take a shower.

The water was hot and began to make her skin red. She didn’t care and continued to shower for a long time.

Arianna looked at herself in the foggy mirror. Her chest and collarbone were bruised. Her shoulders had some hickeys and bite marks. Since her skin was so pale and delicate, these markings looked even more defined.

Travis’s ancestors must be beasts, not apes, Arianna thought to herself. When lying under him, she always felt like he was out of control. In her dreams, he often transformed into a wolf and swallowed her whole.

Though his foreplay was soft and made her melt slowly like an iceberg, afterward, he did not stop until she was pushed to her limit.

Before, when she had more courage, she clenched her teeth and refused to do as he pleased. She would bite if he pushed her too hard. But in the end, she was always the one who suffered more.

Continue to next part

The candles flickered across our dining table, casting dancing shadows on the walls of our Manhattan penthouse. I smoothed the front of my navy dress—the one Kieran once said brought out the blue in my eyes, back when he still noticed such things. Three years. Three years since I'd become Mrs. Anderson, since my father's desperate plea had bound me to this life. I checked my watch. Eight-thirty. He was already an hour late. The roast beef was getting cold, the Yorkshire puddings deflating like my hopes. I'd spent the entire day preparing this meal, remembering how Kieran had loved my grandmother's recipe when we were teenagers spending summers at my grandfather's Hamptons estate.

Billionaire Modern Romance

7.9

Betrayal Turns to Desperate Love

7.9

The elevator's golden numbers climbed steadily—thirty-seven, thirty-eight, thirty-nine—each floor bringing me closer to what I thought would be the perfect surprise. Chase's penthouse key felt warm in my palm, a symbol of the trust we'd built over two years together. Today marked our anniversary, and I'd planned everything down to the last detail: his favorite wine chilling in my bag, reservations at the restaurant where we'd shared our first kiss, and a small velvet box containing cufflinks engraved with our initials. The hallway stretched before me, silent except for the soft hum of expensive air conditioning. Chase's door stood at the end, mahogany gleaming under crystal chandeliers. I'd surprised him like this before—showing up unannounced with takeout or just because I missed him. He always said it was one of the things he loved about me, how spontaneous I could be. I slipped the key into the lock, turning it slowly to avoid the metallic click that might spoil the surprise. The door swung open on well-oiled hinges, revealing the familiar luxury of Chase's living space. Afternoon sunlight streamed through floor-to-ceiling windows, casting everything in golden hues.

Billionaire Modern Romance

9.0

Blackmailed Into The Ruthless Tycoon's Bed

9.0

Adaline Poole thought she had escaped her family's toxic corporate grip by moving to London and adopting a stray cat named Monty. But when she returns to her empty apartment, her father delivers a chilling ultimatum: he has kidnapped the cat and will euthanize it by morning unless she accepts an arranged marriage with Barron Cooke, a notoriously elusive billionaire. Her entire family becomes complicit in her sale. Her mother demands she secure their elite status, and her brother secretly spies on her social media to feed Barron her every move. Horrified to discover Barron is a thirty-three-year-old "fossil" twelve years her senior, Adaline resorts to sabotage. She goes to a Soho club, takes a scandalous photo with a frat boy, and sends it to the old billionaire to disgust him into canceling their upcoming dinner. But her rebellion backfires horribly when the frat boy spikes her drink with a powerful narcotic. As her body burns with a terrifying, feverish heat, she collapses in a dark corridor. Stripped of her phone and betrayed by her bloodline, she is left utterly defenseless as a predator approaches to drag her away. Suddenly, the heavy fire door is kicked open by a towering, terrifyingly handsome stranger who effortlessly neutralizes her attacker. "Please... help me," Adaline begs, deliriously throwing her burning body into his arms. She has absolutely no idea that the handsome savior she is clinging to is Barron Cooke himself.

Billionaire Modern Romance

8.9

Ex - Husband's Desperate Search

8.9

The mahogany conference table gleamed under the harsh fluorescent lights as I reviewed the quarterly projections one final time. King Corporation's board members sat in their leather chairs like vultures, waiting for any sign of weakness. Being Grey's wife had taught me to read these rooms—the subtle power plays, the calculated silences, the way men like these measured everything in dollars and dominance. "Mrs. King, the European expansion numbers look promising," Harrison Mitchell, our CFO, was saying when my phone buzzed against the polished surface. I glanced down at the screen. Maria Santos—Eleanor's housekeeper. Strange. Maria never called during business hours unless... "Excuse me," I murmured, sliding my finger across the screen.

Billionaire Modern Romance

8.0

Flash Marriage To My Secret Billionaire

8.0

Finley's stepfather gave her a sickening ultimatum: marry her predatory stepbrother Shane tonight, or he would throw her fragile mother out on the street. To escape this hell, she used a matchmaking agency and hastily married a complete stranger. Garrison Strickland claimed to be an ordinary data analyst making $95,000 a year, driving a beat-up Honda Civic, and needing a wife in name only. They got their marriage license at City Hall that very afternoon. But when Finley returned home to pack her bags and threw the certificate on the table, her family just laughed. Dozier ordered Shane to drag her into the bedroom to "teach her a lesson" and trap her forever. "Come on, little sister," Shane crooned, lunging at her. "Don't fight it." Finley's own mother just stared at the floor, blaming Finley for ruining the family, watching blindly as Shane cornered her. Terrified and desperate, Finley smashed an ashtray over Shane's head and frantically dialed her new husband's number. Shane snatched the phone, mocking the "imaginary husband" before the line went dead. Finley felt a bottomless despair. Garrison was just a normal guy; he would never risk his life against her violent family. She was completely on her own, waiting for the end. Suddenly, deafening bangs echoed through the house, and Garrison stepped into the living room radiating a cold, terrifying fury. This supposedly "frugal data analyst" effortlessly snapped Shane's wrist, leveled a ruthless death threat that made Dozier tremble, and whisked Finley away in a waiting Bentley. Looking at the powerful man beside her, Finley's heart raced: just who exactly had she married today?

Billionaire Modern Romance

9.6

If you and I cannot escape the sea of sin

9.6

Chapter 1 I’ve always loved dogs, so when I was a child, Grandfather placed a leash in my hand. He told me the boy technically my uncle, Anthony, would be my pet. From that day on, I learned to swing the whip. Laughing, I lashed him until he bled, all the while respectfully calling him Uncle. Later, the dog broke its chains and turned on its master. In public, I remained the unassailable heiress of the Jessica empire. In private, late at night, he would grip my throat, force me to my knees, and demand to know when I’d give him a child. I took it all in silence. Until the day I learned I was pregnant—and overheard him soothing his long-lost first love. “Marry me,” he said. “I’ll deal with Jessica so she won’t be in your way.” My fingers found the scar on my arm. No heartbreak, just the quiet tally of a countdown. When the seventh mark appeared, I would be free of him for good. --- My drifting consciousness snapped back as Anthony’s ragged breathing slowly eased. We clung to each other like any ordinary couple, limbs tangled. A flicker of warmth stirred in my chest. I opened my mouth to speak, but a sharp ringtone cut me off. Anthony snatched up his phone. Seeing the caller ID, he pulled out of me at once and answered, his voice softening. “Grace, what’s wrong?” Grace—Anthony’s long-lost first love, the girl who’d saved his life years ago. The woman he’d spent tens of millions wooing with flowers, yachts, and starlit villas. The one he’d proposed to ten times. Ice water poured over me, washing away every lingering trace of pleasure. I stayed silent. I swallowed the words that had almost spilled out in the heat of the moment— *I’m almost a month along.* “Anthony,” Grace’s wounded voice came through the speaker, “you went to see Jessica again, didn’t you?” His body still carried the heat of desire, but his eyes turned cold as they flicked toward me. Gently, he soothed her: “She’s just a bitch. If you don’t like it, I won’t touch her again.” Whatever Grace said next, Anthony didn’t bother lowering his voice as he headed for the bathroom. “Be good. Just say you’ll marry me, and I’ll deal with Jessica immediately. I won’t let her be an eyesore for you.” My heart plummeted. Ignoring the ache in my back and legs, I slid out of bed, wiped the sticky wetness from my skin, and curled up on the rug at the foot of the bed. I dragged the blanket over my naked body, trying to steal back a little warmth. A memory surfaced: eight years ago, after Anthony had tried to run from the Jessica family and been dragged back by Grandfather. Night after night, he’d slept curled on the floor of my room like a dog, utterly still. Back then, everyone thought my betrayal and torment had broken his spirit for good. No one knew that, under my deliberate cover, Anthony had been quietly trading stocks, investing, building a company—becoming Kingsport’s mysterious rising star. Years later, when Grandfather suffered a stroke and lay dying, with the Anthony's Group thrown into turmoil, Anthony finally struck. He nearly tore the family empire apart. In the end, it was me who saved the crumbling dynasty—kneeling on the floor, handing over every share of the Anthony's Group left to me in Grandfather’s will, then crawling into his bed. That day was my twentieth birthday. “Go shower. You can sleep in the bed tonight.” Anthony’s voice pulled me from the edge of sleep. His handsome features still held a trace of the tenderness he’d just shown the woman he loved. “Grace agreed to marry me. You’ll have to start calling her Mrs Jessica, Jessica.” A faint smile touched his lips—the first lively expression he’d shown me in a long time. It reminded me of eight years ago, when we’d fled the Jessica house hand in hand, betraying the world for our love. He’d grinned and shouted, “From today on, Jessica belongs to Anthony!” But now, even in our most intimate moments, he looked at me with nothing but hatred and impatience. That tenderness, that love—none of it was mine anymore. My throat tightened. I swallowed hard before answering evenly, “Congratulations.” Dazed, I walked into the bathroom and pulled up Gregory’s number. **Me:** Begin the plan. Gather the materials for submission. His reply came instantly. **Gregory:** Understood, Boss. I put my phone away and let scalding water pour over my skin. A cold, heavy ache settled in my chest, but beneath it bloomed a fierce, swelling hope. Six years and eleven months. I was finally close. This monstrous house, built on sin and cruelty—I would watch it crumble to dust with my own eyes. My fingers traced the six scars on my right arm, each one raised and distinct. I closed my stinging eyes. Just one more month. Once the seventh year was complete, once the seventh mark appeared, I could end this. I could leave for good.

Billionaire Modern Romance

Hate To Love You My Billionaire Lover

Chapter 2

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