I Tore Up His Check, Then He Bought My Life
After seven years of scrubbing floors to escape my past, my doctor fiancé convinced me to attend the Met Gala. It was supposed to be a one-night trip back to a world I hated. But then the doors crashed open, and the monster I.d left for dead rolled in on a wheelchair.
Within twenty-four hours, Fielding Hancock.s shadow had poisoned everything. My fiancé, Nathan, saw a photo of Fielding touching my arm and completely shattered. He got me fired, drained our joint bank account of my life savings, and left me homeless on a sidewalk in Queens.
I thought I had hit rock bottom, but then the hospital called. My mother had suffered a stroke, triggered by an envelope Fielding sent her. The insurance Nathan had just reported as fraudulent wouldn.t cover the ICU, and I was broke.
With my mother.s life on the line and two hours to find five thousand dollars, I was out of options. He had systematically destroyed every piece of my new life, cornering me until there was nowhere left to run.
I made the only call I could. Fielding picked up on the first ring.
"You win," I said, my voice dead. "I'm yours."
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Chapter 2
He looked dead.
That was Essence's first thought. His skin was the color of parchment, pale and translucent under the harsh chandeliers. His cheekbones were sharp enough to cut glass, casting hollow shadows on his face. He sat with a stillness that was unnatural, his hands resting on the armrests of the chair, fingers long and motionless.
But his eyes were alive.
They were dark, bottomless pits that scanned the room with a predatory boredom. He didn't look like a man confined to a chair; he looked like a king on a throne, surveying a kingdom he intended to burn down.
"Oh my god," Zoe whispered. She gripped Essence's arm, her nails digging into the flesh. "I thought he was in Zurich. I thought he was... incapacitated."
"He is," Essence whispered back, though her voice trembled. "Look at him."
Mr. Yates, the head of the foundation and their old high school principal, walked behind the chair. He wasn't pushing it-Fielding's hand hovered over a joystick control-but he walked with the deferential air of a servant.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Mr. Yates announced, his voice booming with forced cheer. "A surprise guest tonight. Please welcome back to New York, Mr. Fielding Hancock."
The applause was hesitant. It was the sound of people who were afraid, not appreciative. Fielding didn't smile. He didn't wave. He just tapped his index finger once on the armrest.
Essence tried to shrink behind the Egyptian column. Her heart was beating so hard she could feel it in her throat. He can't see me, she thought. There are three hundred people here. I'm invisible.
Fielding drove the chair forward. The crowd melted away from him, giving him five feet of clearance on all sides. He moved through the room like a shark through water.
He stopped near the center of the room. He turned his head slowly, scanning the perimeter.
His gaze swept over the bar. Over the band. Over the tables.
Then, it stopped.
He looked straight at the pillar. Straight into the shadows. Straight at her.
The air left Essence's lungs. It was a physical blow. Across fifty feet of the Great Hall, his eyes locked onto hers and held. There was no surprise in his expression. No anger. Just a cold, terrifying recognition.
He knew she was there. He had always known. He had put her on the list.
Essence broke the contact. She turned blindly, bumping into a waiter. "I need air," she gasped.
"Essence, wait!" Zoe hissed.
Essence didn't wait. She pushed through the glass doors toward the Temple of Dendur exhibit, seeking the shadows of the ancient sandstone. The cold air from the climate control hit her wet skin, making her shiver violently. She walked to the stone railing and gripped it, staring down at the dark water of the reflecting pool.
She pulled her phone out of her clutch. No messages from Nathan. Just the time: 8:15 PM.
She opened her gallery. She scrolled past the screenshots of her work schedule until she found it. A photo of Nathan. He was wearing his scrubs, smiling that goofy, lopsided smile, holding a bagel. He looked safe. He looked normal.
"He's just a man," she whispered to herself. "He's just a cripple in a tuxedo. He can't hurt you anymore."
The door behind her opened. Essence jumped, spinning around.
It was Zoe.
"You can't hide out here forever," Zoe said, shivering in her strapless dress. "Dinner is being served. If you don't sit down, it makes a scene."
"I can't go back in there, Zoe. He saw me."
"So what? He saw you. He's paralyzed, Essence. What's he going to do, run you over?" Zoe grabbed her hand. "Come on. We'll eat the salad, drink the wine, and leave before dessert. I promise."
Essence took a deep breath. The cool air had numbed her panic slightly. Zoe was right. Running away would look guilty.
"Okay," Essence said. "Okay."
They walked back inside. The lights had been dimmed for dinner. The atmosphere was heavy, the tension in the room palpable. Everyone was whispering about Fielding.
Essence kept her head down as they navigated the tables. She looked for Table 14, the "supplemental" table near the kitchen where the outcasts usually sat.
"Where are we going?" Zoe asked, looking at her own card. "I'm at Table 6."
"I'm at 14," Essence said. "Or I should be."
She walked toward the back of the room. But when she reached Table 14, her name wasn't there. She circled the table twice. Nothing.
"Excuse me," she asked a passing waiter. "I can't find my seat. Essence Fitzgerald."
The waiter paused, balancing a tray of appetizers. "Fitzgerald? Oh, there was a change. The seating chart was updated ten minutes ago."
"Updated?"
"Yes, ma'am. You're at the head table. Table 1."
Essence felt the blood drain from her face. "That's a mistake."
"No mistake," Mr. Yates appeared out of the gloom. His smile was tight and apologetic. "Essence, my dear. Fielding... requested the pleasure of your company. He insisted."
"I'm not sitting there," Essence said, her voice rising.
"Please," Mr. Yates lowered his voice. "Don't make this difficult. The board is very sensitive right now. Just sit for the meal."
He gestured toward the front of the room.
Table 1 was on a raised platform. It was the center of attention. Fielding was already there, his wheelchair positioned at the head of the table where a chair had been removed.
And right next to him-so close their elbows would touch-was an empty chair with a place card.
Essence Fitzgerald.
The trap wasn't shutting. It had already snapped closed.
Essence walked toward the table. Her legs felt like lead. Every step was a battle against the instinct to turn and sprint for the exit. She could feel the eyes of the room on her back. Chloie was watching from Table 3, her mouth hanging open in shock.
Essence climbed the two small steps to the platform.
Fielding didn't look up. He was unfolding his napkin, his movements precise and slow.
Essence pulled out her chair. The scrape of wood against the floor sounded like a scream. She sat down.
She was close enough to smell him now. He smelled of sandalwood, expensive scotch, and something metallic.
Fielding picked up his water glass. He took a sip, then set it down. He turned his head slowly, looking at her profile.
"Hello, Essence," he said. His voice was a low rumble, rougher than she remembered. It vibrated in her chest. "You're late."
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8.5
I was cheated on by my scumbag boyfriend.
On the night I got blackout drunk, I married a stranger, and when I woke up, I only found a marriage certificate and a black card.
He took care of my scumbag ex for me, gave me a canary diamond ring, but refused to show his face-he only called me baby on video calls.
I ran to my best friend's house to hide, only to find that the billionaire next door, who made my heart skip a beat, had the exact same scent as him.
My best friend cried and begged me: "He's Augustus, a tyrant who eats people alive!"
But only I knew that the man who pressed me against the terrace railing, leaned down to kiss me, and whispered "I'll protect you" softly.
Fifty thousand dollars to sneak photos of his private office? I'll go.
Not for the money, but to ask him to his face-
Gus, how many secrets are you hiding? And how long have you been craving me?
7.5
For six years, Isabella Rossi used her family's immense wealth to save her husband's Mafia empire from bankruptcy while he fought on the front lines.
Her reward? Don Damien Moretti returns with a mistress, a secret son, and a demand: Accept them, and keep paying the bills.
He expects her to swallow her pride. Instead, Isabella closes her checkbook. She demands a divorce, cuts off their funding, and leaves his "glorious" empire to starve.
But a Queen stepping down draws wolves. Enter Giovanni Falcone-the ruthless, untouchable King of the New York Underworld. He doesn't want her money; he wants her.
Now, her ex-husband is begging for her back. But Isabella? She's too busy building her own empire-and watching his burn.
8.8
On the eve of my glamorous Waldorf Astoria wedding, I went to the penthouse to surprise my fiancé, Hugh, wearing my late mother's heirloom pearls.
Instead, I heard my stepsister's familiar laugh and caught them tangled together on the sofa.
Through the cracked door, I heard Hugh slur that he was only marrying me for my family's financial backing.
"As soon as I secure my inheritance, she's the first thing I'm getting rid of," he promised her.
Floy giggled and asked for my mother's pearl necklace, my only legacy. Hugh agreed without hesitation, mocking my dead mother's naivety and my desperate dreams of building a family.
Every sweet word he had ever said was a lie, a knife he had been patiently sliding between my ribs for years. They planned to strip me of everything the moment I signed the prenup.
I didn't cry or scream. The crushing weight of their betrayal hollowed me out, leaving behind a terrifying, absolute calm.
Why should I be the one to lose everything while they stole my future and insulted my mother's memory?
I calmly walked down the hall, set the prenuptial agreement on fire, and vanished into the rainy night.
If Hugh wanted to play dirty for the Maxwell empire, I would play for keeps.
Using a forgotten, century-old family covenant, I was going to marry Hugh's uncle-the comatose, paralyzed war hero, Fleet Maxwell.
I would return not as a naive bride, but as their worst nightmare: his aunt, and the new lady of the house.
8.8
After eleven years in a maximum-security black site, ex-Delta Force operator Alton Combs was paroled and exiled to a toxic Appalachian wasteland.
The corrupt town mayor thought he was bullying a broken man, tricking Alton into trading his family's prime estate for a poisoned, worthless shale field.
The locals treated Alton like a rabid beast, spitting on his shoes and waiting for him to rot in a collapsed cabin. But they had no idea the "worthless" land hid a billion-dollar rare-earth mineral vein. While surviving the town's hostility, Alton found a freezing baby girl dumped in a biohazard bin with needle marks on her tiny arm.
He took her in, named her Eden, and built an electrified fortress guarded by a tamed mountain lion and a rattlesnake. He spent the next seven years quietly extracting the minerals to build a massive mining empire, raising the girl not as a victim, but as a ruthless apex predator.
Hundreds of miles away in Washington D.C., a high-ranking Pentagon official wept over an empty grave, completely unaware that his evil second wife had ordered his infant daughter thrown to the wolves. He also didn't know the baby had been rescued by the most dangerous killing machine alive.
Now, his parole was officially over.
Alton handed his seven-year-old daughter an elite academy acceptance letter.
"If the dogs try to bite you, you tear their throats out. I will handle the bodies."
Stepping into a bulletproof Hummer, the undisputed king of the valley prepared to unleash his little wolf into the human world.
8.2
After two years of love and unwavering commitment to her mate Adrian, Amelia's world shatters when she finds Adrian, cheating on her with his ex-fated mate, Mara. The pain deepens when she is framed for a crime she didn't commit, and forced to leave the pack she once called home. Yet, as time passes and Adrian's regrets grow, he embarks on a desperate quest to find Amelia and win her back.
Years later, Amelia has rebuilt her life as a successful medical doctor, only to find herself drawn to Alex Darlington, a charming and caring doctor who turns out to be none other than Adrian's stepbrother. But when their bond grows undeniable, Amelia must face the shocking truth-Adrian, the man who once betrayed her, is now the one asking for her forgiveness. Torn between her past love and her new feelings for Alex, Amelia's heart is pulled in two directions.
As Adrian fights to reclaim the woman he lost, he must confront his own mistakes and battle the darkness inside. But when Alex's true motives come to light, Amelia must decide who is truly worthy of her love, and whether she can find a future with the man who shattered her heart-or the one who might just heal it.
In a world where loyalty is tested, love is fragile, and betrayal runs deep, will Amelia find peace, or will she be forced to choose between two men who will stop at nothing to claim her heart?
Settings : Moonstone Pack, Present Day, Human World, New York City, Present Day, 21st Century.
7.6
Synopsis:
Diana, a twenty-nine year old brilliant young lady and a successful fashion designer. She was grateful she had been able to achieve everything she had without any support.
But there was a void inside of her. She wanted to get married.
She couldn't bear the fact of entering into the big chapter thirty without a life partner. She met David at a business conference meeting. He asked for her number.
She hesitated thinking he wasn't going to stay like the others. She decided to give him a chance and went on a first date with him only to realise that he was serious and wanted to marry her.
What Diana didn't know was that David was pretending all along. He was never interested in her as a person.
During a public awards ceremony, David brings Eleanor, a celebrity who is his new business partner, onto the stage. He dedicates his award to her, claiming she was the "sole inspiration" for his success.
Later that night, he tells Diana that he has already signed the divorce papers. His cold dismissal shatters her, but in the aftermath, a clear-headed determination sets in.