
Her Price, His Obsession (Erotic Billionaire/Dark Romance)
🔞Explicit Content🔞
"Suck my c^ck, Rosabella. That's all you're good at. A hopeless orphan can only dream of luxury. Keep your filthy mouth out of my affair...use it only to make me cum."
******
Bella Hale has known suffering her entire life. Orphaned at sixteen, she survives on scraps and desperation. She does whatever it takes not to starve with only little dignity intact.
She envies the rich-people who seem immune to hardship and pain. Yet she promised herself that if she ever got her hands on one of them, she would never let go. She was done suffering.
Lucian Rodriguez is everything she should despise.
A cold, selfish, ruthless billionaire with little conscience and no mercy...
a man who knows how to smile for the world while keeping his darkness well hidden.
Their worlds collide when Lucian's four-month-old daughter goes missing... and Bella finds her.
Lucian offers no gratitude...and Bella refuses to let the opportunity slip. She demands compensation. Not just money, but security. A lifetime guarantee that she will never be poor again. In return, she will do whatever he wants. Her body. Her life. He can have it all.
Bella is taken into his world-strictly as a deal.
What she doesn't realize is that when you make a deal with the devil, you should never expect it to be fair.
And she will learn too late that being poor was far better than belonging to Lucian Rodriguez.
A deal turns into obsession.
Survival into desire.
Desire into Hate.
Hate into Love.
That love and commitment becomes the biggest and worst mistake.
Will Bella's desperate deal destroy her?
Or Will she become Lucian's destruction?
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Chapter 2
It was nighttime when Bella arrived at her dump.
Her heart dropped the moment she pushed the door open.
The place was turned upside down.
“What is this… who did this?” she asked rhetorically.
She had been fired, and now even the miserable place she called home had been raided by thieves.
Her mind flew to the little money she had kept.
She rushed to the spot where she had hidden it, her hands already trembling even before she got there.
She found nothing, not even a penny.
Her chest tightened.
She checked again, fingers digging into the corner, moving things aside, hoping she was wrong. But there was still nothing. The money she had saved for rent was gone.
Then she looked toward the pot.
It was empty.
Even the little food she had kept for herself was gone too.
Bella’s knees gave out. She dropped to the floor, her body shaking violently as the tears she had been holding back finally broke free.
A scream tore out of her chest, as she cried like something inside her had snapped.
“I hate this place… I hate this life,” she sobbed. “I am exhausted, Father. I am exhausted, Mother. Why did you have to leave me? Your daughter is in pain. I am a woman with no livelihood.”
Her laughter came out broken, soaked in tears.
“The rich have it easy.”
For a moment, her mind drifted back to the man she had turned down earlier.
“Maybe I should have gone with him,” she whispered bitterly. “A night for money doesn’t sound so bad anymore. Maybe it’s time I go extreme—because if I keep living like this, I might starve to death.
She scoffed weakly.
Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, the way she always did, Bella forced herself to stand and walked into the bathroom.
She turned on the water and stepped under it, letting it run over her skin as if it could wash away everything she was feeling.
The water was a little itchy against her skin, but she had no choice.
She endured it in silence, then shut it off and returned to her room. Bella lay down on her makeshift bed, staring up at the ceiling, her mind circling the few options she had left.
Nothing good came to her.
Then, slowly, an idea formed.
“I’ll go back to Manhattan. I won’t give up,” she murmured.
She pulled out the money she had left and counted it carefully.
“This should be enough… enough for the train that’ll take me there tomorrow,” she told herself. “I can sleep on the streets if I have to. Beg for jobs. If I’m asked how much for a night, I’ll take whatever I can. I don’t care anymore.”
She nodded in finality, but her heart refused to settle.
Her eyes drifted toward the door, fear creeping in—the fear that someone might break in while she slept.
Suddenly restless, Bella got up and rushed to the door, dragging her heavy water gallons across the floor and placing them against it. She checked the lock twice, then a third time, just to be sure.
Only then did she return to her bed.
Despite the fear still coiled tight in her chest, exhaustion claimed her, and she drifted into sleep.
********
(HOTEL)
In the blue light of the hotel room, Lucian’s naked body loomed, his face hidden behind a black mask as he fucked a stripper's pussy mercilessly.
He had the woman pinned against the wall, thrusting into her with relentless force. Her weak attempts to move with him faltered; she wasn't bouncing as he demanded.
"Take that cock like the bitch you are. Bounce on that dick," Lucian growled, slapping her ass hard. The sharp impact drew a scream of pain from her lips.
"ohh...shit, fuck ahhh"
He took a slow drag from the cigarette dangling between his fingers, then exhaled a cloud of smoke directly into her face. She choked, coughing violently as the harsh fumes burned her lungs.
"T-that's enough, sir," she stammered, her voice trembling. Fear overshadowed any trace of enjoyment…she was genuinely terrified.
But Lucian didn't care. To him, she was nothing more than an object for his pleasure, a rag to be used at his whim. She had no right to dictate when he was done.
He dropped the cigarette to the floor, crushing it under his heel, then effortlessly lifted her and carried her to the bed.
Throwing her down, he resumed his brutal pace, pounding into her raw. His hands clamped around her throat, squeezing just enough to make her eyes roll back in a mix of fear and reluctant pleasure.
"Pathetic slut," he sneered, his voice laced with disdain. "I was told you were the best at this. Why are you so fucking dull?"
He didn't slow down, driving into her mercilessly until tears streamed down her cheeks.
As his release built, he pulled out abruptly—he wasn't repeating past mistakes. With a low groan, he spilled his thick, milky load across her stomach and onto her pink nipples, rubbing the tip of his cock to ride out the final spasms.
Satisfied, he climbed off the bed, lit another cigarette, and took a long, satisfied drag before exhaling slowly. Opening his cupboard, he pulled out thick bundles of cash and tossed them onto her battered body.
She weakly pushed herself up, heading toward the bathroom.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?" His voice cut through the air, cold and dangerous, laced with the haze of smoke.
"I... I need to clean up," she whispered.
"In my room, sluts don't get to bathe." He said it casually, as if it were the most ordinary rule. "Get dressed and leave. Let my cum dry on your skin. Let everyone know you were fucked by a billionaire."
Disgust flashed across her face, but his menacing aura left no room for defiance. She obeyed, pulling on her clothes with trembling hands and limping out of the room.
Lucian picked up the phone and called room service to clean up the mess, then headed to the shower.
*******
It was morning, and Bella was already dressed, ready to leave, when she heard a knock on the door.
The knock turned into loud, aggressive bangs.
“Bella, open this door right now!”
Her heart skipped. It was the stupid landlord.
“Fuck. The money… How do I explain?”
“I said open the door, Bella. You are leaving. I’ve had enough of your rubbish.” he banged the door harder.
Before she could react, the lock gave way, and the landlord stepped inside. He scowled in anger, his big belly peeking out, his face as shrewd as he was.
“Good morning, Mr. Andrew,” she greeted, swallowing hard.
“Save your greetings, bitch,” he snapped. “Pay up. I’ve given you enough grace.”
“The price is too high for this place,” Bella shot back angrily, which only worsened things. “It’s unfair to collect that much for this… this dump.”
“What should it be then? A five-star resort?” he mocked. “Oh, I see, you don’t have the money. Then pay with your body. I’ve heard stories of how slutty you are, roaming the streets sucking cocks for cash. Give me more than that, and you’ll never worry about rent again.”
Disgust churned in Bella’s stomach. It was true, she did what she had to survive… but this time, losing the dump felt better than giving him that.
“I will never give you that pleasure,” she said coldly. “You hear me? I will leave this place. You can have it. I may be hopeless , a common slut , but I won’t do what I don’t want to do. You won’t get that satisfaction from me. Just give me until tomorrow, and I’ll be gone.”
The man laughed. “Then give me some money if you want to stay today and leave tomorrow or lose the fucking ego.”
Bella stared at him, then fished out the little money left in her bag and handed it to him. “I promise. Tomorrow morning, I’ll leave.”
The landlord smirked as he took the money, his hand grazing hers. She jerked away immediately.
“You better not be here by ten a.m. tomorrow,” he warned, dragging his eyes over her body. “Or I’ll do worse.”
He slammed the door behind him.
Bella left immediately after, determined to get her hands on anything or anyone that could help her survive.
******
It was afternoon. Bella was exhausted. Every place she tried had turned her away…even as a waiter, they said they had enough staff. She glanced at a nearby park and noticed children laughing and playing, obviously with wealthy parents.
She entered the park and sat on a bench, dropping her “Help me, I need a job” poster beside her. She watched the kids, letting their laughter, their innocence, their complete cluelessness about the world, bring her a small measure of peace. She closed her eyes, trying to breathe, trying to forget her own troubles, but sleep pulled her under before she could fight it.
In a far corner, Lucian’s nanny pushed a stroller. She thought maybe if the baby saw other children, she would calm down. It worked, the baby quieted as other kids played peek-a-boo with her.
Suddenly, the nanny’s phone rang.
“Are you serious?… Okay, I’m coming!” she exclaimed.
Without looking back, she rushed off, hailed a taxi, and left the child behind.
When Bella opened her eyes again, it was getting dark. A loud wail had woke her, and despite everything, she felt thankful…otherwise, she might have slept straight into the night. She realized she had accomplished nothing, yet she had slept like a fool.
“But wait… if every other child is gone, whose baby is crying?” she whispered, fear creeping in.
She stood, a little uneasy.
Could it be a ghost? she wondered. Impossible, she told herself, trying to reason. Looking at the sky, she guessed it was around six, what ghost would come out by this time?.
The cries grew louder, insistent. Bella’s heart thudded as she spotted a stroller, and a man approaching it. He didn’t look like the child’s father… something felt wrong.
She grabbed a wooden baseball bat from the corner and stepped closer, ready to defend the child.
“Is that your child?” she asked, making the man turn, startled.
“Yes… she is my child,” he said, scooping the girl up. But the baby continued to cry.
“You’re lying,” Bella said. “If she were yours, she wouldn’t be crying like that.”
The man’s eyes flashed with anger. Before she could do anything, he pushed her to the ground and ran off with the child.
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8.9
I was tossed into a dark alley like rotting garbage, bleeding and grieving the child I had just lost.
When I was finally brought back to my fiancé Angelo's penthouse, instead of comfort, I was met with absolute disgust.
His family declared me "unclean" after the kidnapping. Angelo coldly announced he was burying the scandal by marrying my sweet, innocent cousin, Carissa.
When we were alone, Carissa stood over my bed, her voice dripping with venomous delight.
"My father arranged the kidnapping. And now, Angelo and I can finally be together."
Before I could react, she forced a silver letter opener into my hand, deliberately stabbed her own shoulder, and let out a bloodcurdling scream.
Angelo stormed in, struck me across the face, and gathered a sobbing Carissa into his arms, looking at me with absolute revulsion.
The family matriarch appeared at the door, her cold eyes sweeping over the scene before she gave a chilling order to the maids.
"Clean this up."
They pinned me down and brutally drove the blade directly into my chest.
I choked on my own blood, staring at the man who had promised me the world as he turned his back, calling my murder a "mercy."
As my heart beat its final agonizing rhythm, I made a silent vow to the shadows that if there was a next life, I would have my vendetta.
When I opened my eyes again, there was no blood, only the soft silk of my nightgown.
I had returned to the day before my eighteenth birthday.
This time, I wouldn't play the desperate victim. I was going to ally with the Devil of Chicago and burn them all to the ground.

7.2
"Still playing dirty, Huntress?" he taunted, pinning me with those piercing grey-blue eyes.
"Still hiding behind your daddy's money, Reaper?" I shot back, my blood boiling.
Lanaya Roux and Maverick Hayden are college hockey royalty-and bitter rivals. As the captains of competing university teams, their hatred on the ice is matched only by the legendary feud between their billionaire families' empires.
But when their ruthless fathers force them into a fake engagement to secure an $18 billion corporate merger, Lanaya and Maverick are thrown into the ultimate game of survival.
The rules are simple: Live together in the same penthouse. Smile for the cameras. Pretend to be madly in love for six months.
It was supposed to be strictly business. But behind closed doors, the venom they spit at each other quickly morphs into a scorching, undeniable addiction. Maverick is an arrogant, aggressively protective alpha who refuses to let her go, and Lanaya is the fiercely independent captain who refuses to submit.
Beneath their explosive chemistry lies a devastating secret: a shared tragedy from eight years ago that claimed the life of Lanaya's brother and shattered their innocent childhood bond.
With the national hockey championship on the line, scandalous secrets surfacing, and unseen enemies sabotaging their every move, the line between love and hate has never been so dangerous.
What happens when the fake engagement to your worst enemy becomes the only real thing in your life?

7.2
I was securing the diamond clasp of my necklace when the security monitor blinked to life, revealing my husband burying his face between his assistant's thighs.
Just an hour later, Dante Moretti stood by my side at the Gala, playing the part of the devoted Capo, while his mistress smirked at me from across the room in a dress that screamed for attention.
I wanted to leave. I had packed my bags, ready to disappear.
But then the doctor told me the news: I was six weeks pregnant with the Vitiello-Moretti heir.
I thought the baby might save us. I thought it would stop the madness.
I was wrong.
When his mistress accused me of betrayal to cover her own tracks, Dante didn't listen to his wife. He listened to the woman warming his bed.
In a blind rage, the man who swore to protect me struck me down.
I felt the sharp, tearing pain in my abdomen before I even hit the stone floor.
As blood stained my pristine white dress, I realized he hadn't just broken his vows.
He had killed our unborn son.
So, when the opportunity came to detonate the gas line and fake my own death, I didn't hesitate.
I let the world believe Seraphina Moretti died in that explosion.
Ten years later, I returned to a city that thought I was a ghost.
I dismantled his supply lines, froze his assets, and watched his empire crumble piece by piece.
And when he was finally on his knees in the rain, broken and destitute, I stepped out of the shadows.
I didn't come back for his money.
I came back to hand him the ultrasound photo of the child he murdered.
"Hello, Dante."

9.8
I sat in the VIP waiting room of the fertility clinic, clutching the report that confirmed my implantation was a success. After years of struggling, I finally had a reason to make my marriage with Garnett work.
But when I went to find him in the lounge, I heard a woman’s laughter coming from behind the door. It was his mistress, Alison. I froze as I heard Garnett’s cold, dismissive voice.
"She’s just an incubator."
"Once the heir is born, we kick her out. The trust fund only requires a legitimate heir born to my wife. It doesn't require the wife to stick around afterwards."
The betrayal went deeper than I could have imagined. I soon discovered the clinic had botched the procedure—the baby I was carrying wasn't even Garnett’s. It was donor sperm from Sterling Sharp, the most powerful tech mogul in the world.
When my in-laws forced me to move into their estate for "monitoring," I realized I was entering a cage. Garnett and his mistress were paying the family doctor to inject me with hallucinogens to mimic a mental breakdown. They planned to declare me legally incompetent and commit me to an asylum the second I gave birth.
I stood in the shadows of the East Wing, realizing my husband wasn't just stealing my child—he was trying to delete my mind. The people I called family were poisoning me daily, waiting for me to break so they could claim a legacy that wasn't even theirs.
They wanted a madwoman, so I decided to give them one. I turned the doctor into my double agent, faked every symptom of a breakdown, and began building a secret empire from the shadows. Garnett thinks he’s trapped an incubator, but he’s actually locked himself in with a nuclear weapon.

9.3
Elliana sat on the cold marble floor, staring at the two pink lines on the pregnancy test. Overjoyed, she went to her husband Garrett’s study to surprise him.
But the room was empty. On his iPad, she accidentally opened a muted security video from the night before. As a graphic novelist trained in facial anatomy, she easily read Garrett’s lips as he spoke to their housekeeper.
"Increase the hallucinogens and the birth control. Let her become a complete lunatic."
The truth shattered her reality. Her three years of inexplicable exhaustion and mental collapses were orchestrated to keep her away from her ex-fiancé, who was now married to Garrett’s sister, Cristina. The nightmare worsened during a horrific highway crash. As their SUV flipped and caught fire, Garrett ruthlessly abandoned a pregnant Elliana in the crushed backseat. He dragged Cristina to safety, leaving Elliana to burn. She survived, but her right hand—her drawing hand—was permanently destroyed.
Lying in the hospital with her career ruined and her intellectual property stolen by the husband who forged her signature while she was drugged, a freezing void of hatred consumed her. She was nothing but a sedated decoy to hide Garrett's twisted, incestuous obsession with his own sister.
When Garrett knelt by her hospital bed with fake tears, Elliana didn't scream or expose him. Instead, she forced a pathetic, dependent smile, playing the perfect broken wife. She was going back to his penthouse to steal his encrypted files, ready to feed him to Manhattan's most cutthroat divorce lawyer and watch his empire burn.

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.