Life and Love with a Billionaire Vampire
Eleanor Heather enjoys her ordinary life, working as an accountant, repaying student loans, and living in an apartment with her best friend, Lana. However, one night, a strange man attacked and bit her, leaving her traumatized and afraid to go out alone. Little did she know, this incident was just the beginning of a life-altering journey. When she crossed paths with Nicholas Shaw, a lawyer and owner of the firm she audited, her life took a drastic turn. Despite dark secrets surrounding Nicholas, Eleanor couldn't help but be drawn to him, and Nicholas Shaw was determined not to let her go.
Chapters
Share
Chapter 1
Chapter 1
This is a bad idea.
For the umpteenth time, that sentence echoed in my head. A hint of regret slipped into my heart for refusing Oliver's offer to drive me home.
Well, actually, it was mostly my pride that prevented me from accepting. We had just ended our relationship two weeks ago. After two years together, a woman finally showed up at my apartment a few weeks back and slapped me across the face before screaming at me to stay away from Oliver.
She claimed to be Oliver's girlfriend and said they had been dating for over a year.
Damn Oliver. He wasn't even that handsome. But the bastard had been cheating on me for over a year.
I turned back for the third time while my feet kept moving. My instinct told me something was following me—or someone.
This was all because Mr. Newman had forced several staff members to work overtime for the past three days. And today was the worst of it; we were only able to leave at eleven-thirty at night. Me, Oliver, and a few other staff members.
Unfortunately, no buses were operating this late, and waiting for a taxi would take even longer. So, stupidly, I decided to walk.
"This is a really bad idea, Ella," I muttered to myself. I should have been patient and just waited for a taxi.
I had passed this way a few times before because it was the fastest walking route to my apartment. The street was lined with shops selling food and goods from Mexico, which I remembered always being crowded during the day. Sadly, the daytime atmosphere was a stark contrast to tonight.
Every shop had ceased operations and was closed tight. I could only see light from a few storefront windows and street lamps. The rest was pitch black.
The sound of my heels—which weren't very high—sounded faint as they tapped against the pavement. For some reason, the fine hairs on the back of my neck stood up as I entered this cursed street.
I forced my eyes to look straight ahead; only a hundred meters left until I emerged from this terrifying road. I promised myself I would never pass through here again at night.
Suddenly, a piercing scream shattered the silence around me, causing my steps to halt in place. The sound was agonizing, as if the owner of the voice was in true pain.
It was a sharp contrast to the silence I had heard before.
Every hair on my body stood on end as the instinct in my head screamed for me to run. But a part of my conscience told me to turn back and help.
This is one of humanity's weaknesses: trusting conscience over the brain. If this were a horror movie, I'd definitely be the first to die a gruesome death.
My heart pounded hard in my chest as I turned back. No matter how loud the instinct screamed in my head, I stepped toward the source of the sound.
The place where the voice came from was an alley. It fell silent again.
I narrowed my eyes toward the dark alley, hoping to see more clearly. This alley wasn't very big—exactly like the alleys in horror movies where Jack the Ripper emerges from the shadows with a bloody knife after butchering his victim.
With my hands still trembling slightly, my fingers pressed 911, and then from the corner of my eye, I saw a shadow moving in the darkness.
"Hello?" suddenly a man's voice echoed in the alley, nearly making me drop my phone in shock.
I looked up to see the silhouette of a man walking toward me. This time I followed my instinct; my feet stepped back a few meters.
The man wore a white shirt with a black leather jacket and jeans. He clearly didn't look like Jack the Ripper.
"Are you okay?" the man asked with a small smile. The smile on his face looked a bit strange, so I stepped back again.
"What was that sound?" I asked with a slightly panicked voice. My heart was racing so fast I could almost hear it in my ears.
The man stopped a few meters in front of me, right under a street lamp. The light illuminated his face clearly.
His slightly long black hair touched the collar of his shirt. His strange black eyes stared at me. He fell into the category of handsome.
Or very handsome, if we had met in a normal situation.
But there was something strange—something wrong about him. The man smiled again when he saw my expression.
"What sound did you hear?" He tilted his head slightly to the right; his deep voice sounded almost pleasant.
My mouth opened to answer, then I closed it again. If he was a killer, then telling him wasn't a good idea. I gripped my phone tightly.
"Ummm, I think I misheard," I murmured, preparing to turn around.
"Wait a moment, Miss." The voice sounded commanding as it called out to me, making me freeze in place again.
"Is someone following you?" he asked in a worried tone while glancing behind me.
Reflexively, I turned my head back to look, but there was nothing there.
"Ah, I guess I miscalculated." Suddenly the voice sounded very close, making my heart leap in my chest. When I turned back, he was already right in front of me.
"Tsk. Sweet lady, I'm a bit sorry I have to hurt you." He said it with a lazy voice before smirking slightly; a pair of fangs appeared from behind his lips.
His hand moved just as my mouth opened to scream. And in just one second, his warm, wet lips touched my neck.
A pair of sharp fangs tore into the skin of my neck painfully. My mouth was open to scream, but no sound came out.
The last thing I remember was the bright light from the street lamp and the sound of a terrifyingly loud gulp.
(6 months later)
"I've already asked Oliver to book a plane ticket for you, Eleanor." Mr. Newman's voice sounded final. I could only look at my manager with a look of despair.
He returned his gaze to his desk, a silent signal to dismiss me from his office politely.
I stood up from my chair quietly. Regardless, I wasn't going to be childish and beg Mr. Newman again. Once was enough.
Without looking at him again, I walked out of his room and headed toward Oliver's desk.
Oliver Sheldon Wright was my ex-boyfriend and the assistant manager at the accounting firm where I worked. I remembered the first time I met him, when I was still an intern and Oliver was a junior accountant.
I once thought I truly loved this man, before his mistress came to my apartment and slapped me.
That bastard. What a jerk!
I clenched both my fists tightly and stopped in front of the assistant manager's desk. Oliver was focused on his computer screen; a few strands of his light brown hair fell onto his furrowed brow. Then, slowly, he looked up at me and gave a small smile.
"Is there something I can help you with, Els?"
Els. He always called me by that annoying name when we were dating.
"Mr. Newman said you're the one handling my plane tickets." I tried to force my voice to sound as neutral as possible.
We had ended our relationship more than 6 months ago. Although I still wanted to punch his face every time I saw him, I had to remain professional at the office.
He took an envelope from his desk drawer and handed it to me, still smiling. "Sorry, Els. Actually, Mr. Newman asked me to go, but I can't, so you're forced to replace me. Well, have fun—I heard there's a big festival in Manhattan."
I grabbed the envelope from his hand and didn't even bother to look at his face before turning back toward my desk with a muttered "thanks."
I wasn't going to be childish anymore. Oliver's words, after I told him about the woman who came to my apartment and slapped me, echoed back in my head:
'You're being too dramatic, Els. Don't be childish.'
I opened the envelope in my hand angrily. Inside were two tickets and a hotel reservation. My eyes stared at the departure date and the destination: Manhattan.
I hate Manhattan.
I put the tickets back into the envelope and took a deep breath. As an auditor, I actually didn't mind business trips like this.
It was just that usually Mr. Newman sent a team. If he only sent one auditor like this, the job was guaranteed to be annoying. Work like this usually took at least 2 weeks, depending on the size of the company being audited.
I exhaled again. I hate going alone. To be precise, since 6 months ago, I’ve hated being alone. My thoughts went back to that night—the quiet street and the scream of pain that suddenly shattered the silence.
The fine hairs on my neck stood up again. Although I didn't clearly remember the man's face, I still remembered his voice. And I remembered those strange black eyes.
My stomach felt nauseous thinking about it again. I couldn't remember what happened after the man approached me, but strangely I woke up the next morning in my apartment as usual.
The only sign that convinced me it wasn't a dream were two red dots and a bruise on my neck; even now, that mark hasn't completely disappeared.
"Eleanor? Want to grab lunch?"
I looked up at Christine, who was standing in front of my desk with her wallet tucked under her arm, her hand busy typing something on her phone. One corner of her mouth was chewing on the tip of her blonde hair.
"Oh, okay," I replied before taking my wallet and walking beside her. Christine put her phone back in her pocket.
"Mr. Newman assigned you alone?" Christine asked suddenly. I groaned at the question.
"Ouch. I thought he would give that task to Oliver," she continued. We stopped in front of the elevator.
"He was supposed to, but Oliver dumped it on me," I replied, folding my arms across my chest. "I don't even know who the client is yet."
"You don't know? Shaw & Partner. I heard Mr. Newman and Paul talking about it. They specifically refused a team and requested just one auditor. I think Shaw & Partner wants to do a confidential audit," Christine replied, shrugging her shoulders.
I groaned again. "Is the company big?" I asked as I stepped into the empty elevator.
Christine turned to me with a furrowed brow. "You don't know Shaw & Partner?" Well, I was only familiar with the names of banks and financial firms, so I shook my head at her.
She rolled her eyes. "You need to watch the news more often. Are you sure you've never heard the name Nicholas Shaw? Gregory Shaw?"
I shook my head again.
"Of course, I forgot your taste is on Oliver's level," Christine grumbled. "He and his brother are lawyers. They founded Shaw & Partner. In recent years their company has skyrocketed; now Nicholas and Gregory Shaw are lawyers for several giant companies in America. They are billionaires, Els."
"Maybe. But the two of them are very..." Christine paused for a moment, as if searching for the right word, "Very yummy."
My brow furrowed slightly at her description. "Yummy" sounded disgusting to me.
"But you should stay away from Nicholas Shaw. Some tabloids say he's gay; he's never been seen with a woman. Very different from his brother, Gregory," she continued.
I rolled my eyes as I heard it. I never cared about someone's sexual orientation; besides, most likely I wouldn't even meet them.
An auditor only deals with the finance manager and their ilk. Not the boss. And I really didn't care if this client was incredibly handsome; work is work.
One thing I knew for sure: the job waiting for me in Manhattan was going to be very annoying.
NEXT CHAPTER
You may also like
7.2
Kayla Robinson is at her breaking point. After catching her boyfriend and her best friend, in the backseat of her own car, her world shatters. To make matters worse, she's broke and in debt.
Just when she thinks she has hit rock bottom, her powerful, and intimidating boss, Damien Blackwood, CEO of Blackwood Industries makes her an offer she can't refuse.
Damien needs a wife to secure his corporate empire, and he's chosen Kayla for the role.
She must play the part of the powerful Mrs. Blackwood while fighting her growing attraction to a man who is as dangerous as he is handsome.
Now she's part of a high stakes game. When secrets unfold and traitors are revealed, would she be able to see it through? How long will it take for her to fall for Damien and breach her contract? Or will Damien fall for her first?
7.2
Chloe Bishop never imagined her blind date would end in marriage-to a complete stranger. Expecting nothing more than a calm, respectful life, she instead gained an oddly clingy husband who never left her side.
Stranger still, every problem she faced vanished the moment he intervened. His excuse? "Just good luck."
But Chloe's world shattered when she saw a televised interview with the city's richest billionaire-a man identical to her husband, openly devoted to his wife.
And that wife... was Chloe herself.
7.2
I lay in the hospital bed, every breath feeling like I was inhaling wet concrete. My husband, Trent, stood by the window, more interested in his reflection in the glass than his dying wife.
My sister, Cristi, sat nearby, complaining about how the rain would ruin her expensive shoes on the way to the car.
Trent walked to my bedside and brushed a finger against my oxygen tube.
"The liver failure is aggressive," he whispered. "But we expected that, didn't we? After all those 'vitamins' you've been taking."
I tried to scream, but my vocal cords were paralyzed. Cristi just giggled, telling me not to struggle because they needed my trust fund voting power by midnight. They held up a Do Not Resuscitate order and told me my hand had "signed" it with a little help.
"You were a depreciating asset, Cleora," Trent said, his lips cold against my forehead. "Now, you're finally liquidated."
As the darkness swallowed me, I saw flashes of my life—my mother’s suspicious car crash, my stolen sketchbooks, and the bitter almond taste in my morning juice. I died in a state of pure, helpless rage, realizing I had been murdered by the only people I ever loved.
How could they be so heartless? How could I have been so blind to the monsters living in my own home?
Then came the sensation of falling.
I sat up with a gasp, my lungs burning with fresh, salty air. The hospital was gone. I was in a luxury stateroom on our family’s charity cruise, three years before my death. I was alive, healthy, and back at the beginning.
When a blood-stained billionaire named Clemente Pennington walked out of the suite's bathroom, I didn't run. I looked him in the eye and realized that this time, I wouldn't be the one liquidated. I was going to make them pay for every drop of poison they ever fed me.
8.6
"Be my wife."
Lucia looked at him, questioning his sanity.
"You're out of your mind.I don't even know you ".
Lucas Mariano's voice was icy, his gaze unreadable.
"You need help.Your sister requires care.I can help you both.You have quite the image so I'm sure you'll need it.
It's transactional-nothing more."He finished.
Once the rising star in the ballet world, Lucia Moretti's life is shaken after a brutal divorce and a terrible fire that leaves her and her sister homeless.
Now, with her dreams buried,her heart is guarded and her main focus is keeping both herself and her sister alive.
Enter Lucas-Merciless, cold and sinfully compelling.He offers a contract marriage which comes with everything Lucia needs but at a cost she doesn't understand...yet.
What started as a formality quickly grows into something far more twisted when her ex-husband,Matt-lucas's best friend-returns, determined to have her again.
"You got married to Lucas?" Matt snarled,fury dripping from his voice.
"Is this your revenge?" He continued icily.
No, Lucia said without emotion.
"This is survival."
As sparks fly and secrets come to light, Lucia Finds herself torn between a past that nearly broke her and a man who might shatter her in a brand new way.
In a world of socialites, betrayal and fake love, Lucia must ask herself: Is she the puppet or the one holding the strings?
9.4
Content Warning : This story contains mature themes and explicit content intended for adult audiences (18+) Reader's discretion is advised.
-
An accidental act of heroism reshaped Sera's life entirely. She lost her sight saving the grandmother of a stranger. In return for her goodness, she was forced into marriage with the old woman's grandson, Lucian Vitale. He was a mysterious businessman with no interest in love, and as people whispered, colder than ice. Given her circumstances, Sera had no choice but to accept. She became his pretend wife, bound by contract. It was a kind of relationship she'd never imagined living.
Sera had never planned to fall for a man she'd never seen. But with every touch, every murmur from Lucian, she was slowly pulled under by longing and feelings that should never have taken root. In darkness, she learned to love-and to bleed.
Then came the day her vision returned. She heard a truth that shattered her world and tore at her heart. Frightened beyond reason, Sera ran and vanished. She carried a secret in her womb: the child of their passionate nights together.
Four years slipped by. A man stepped back into her life. Same voice, same scent, same way his hands found hers... but he did not know her. He had amnesia. Can Sera escape the man who once meant everything to her? Or is this fate's way of calling them back to settle what they began-in their beds, their hearts, and the secrets that still wait to be told?
Between lies, desire, and memories... will they choose each other still?
9.1
The Billionaire's Blood Debt
Two empires. One scorched-earth debt. No mercy.
Elara Vance was never supposed to be more than a pawn-the brilliant architect daughter of a man who traded souls for power. But when the world's financial foundations crumble, she finds herself signed over to the one man capable of burning her father's legacy to the ground: Dante Moretti.
Dante is no savior. He is the "Lion of the Underground," a billionaire predator fueled by a decades-old vendetta. He didn't just buy Elara's freedom; he bought her life, her loyalty, and her every breath. In his obsidian tower, the lines between prisoner and queen blur in a fever dream of high-stakes espionage and raw, primal obsession.
As they hunt a shadowy global cabal from the neon streets of London to the ancient ruins of Greece, Elara discovers that the only thing more dangerous than Dante's enemies is the "disgusting" heat of his touch. In a world where every secret is a weapon and every kiss is a betrayal, she must decide: will she dismantle the system that caged her, or become the ultimate weapon for the man who owns her soul?
The debt is blood. The price is total surrender.