Loving My Billionaire Stepson
SYNOPSIS:
Before meeting Elliot Winter, Michelle's life was a routine of beatings from her drunk dad and juggling part-time jobs. He was handsome, loaded, and had a smile that could melt ice.
There was also a twenty-year age gap between them, Michelle didn't care because their relationship was the only ray of sunshine in her rather bleak world. And when he popped the question she was more than happy to say yes. Michelle thought she had found her happily ever after, but she couldn't have been more wrong. With each year that passed Elliot became more of a stranger and less of the man she had fallen for, neglecting her and looking the other way when his mother treated her poorly, that was until the day their 5th anniversary rolled around, she caught him in bed with her sister.
Her love is replaced by hate, a swooning affection now burning rage. Well, two could play that game. That night, she dials her stepson's number with a single text that will change their lives forever.
'I need you tonight'
Chapters
Share
Chapter 3
Michelle's pov
"I hope you don't get offended by this, but I thought he was your father... Not your husband... At least he looks old enough to be..."
I chuckled, "He's actually older than my father,"
This was a conversation I've had more times than I've cared to count, the experience was always more or less the same. There would always be a noticeable shift in the air, their faces contorted with more questions that were looking for the most appropriate ways to leave their lips, and a thickening awkwardness that usually folded up the interaction.
But when I talked with Natasha, she didn't judge me. Instead, she approached it with the understanding that I had salt from my friends before cutting them off.
Now as I'm crying out my heart, all the pieces are falling into place.
She had come to understand me.
But not in the way I hoped.
She went after Elliot.
And he actually took her as his lover.
My mind was scrambled with different questions. How long have they been having an affair? Why would he do this to me? After 5 years of love and dedication was this water deserved?
I recalled the look on his face, the absence of any semblance of guilt or remorse.
This was the catalyst to my rage.
I decided that I wasn't going to cry myself to sleep tonight.
At least not in the way Elliot would be expecting.
With my phone in hand, I dial the number that I hadn't contacted directly in years.
"Michelle.." his deep voice caressed my name in such a way that it left me breathless for a moment or two. I gathered myself, 30 in my voice to give a response; '"I need you tonight"
"I'll be there," that was it, no questions no begging, all he needed was to hear the urgency in my voice and he was coming. I blinked and recognized his red sports car in Golden Cove's parking lot. I had only been waiting for about 5 minutes or so, when he stepped out of the car I saw him, standing taller than his father. His hair an aesthetic mess, his suit ruffled, instead of his measured strides he walked so quickly his feet hardly had time to touch the ground before leaving it once again.
He reached me, and a flush of subconsciousness ran across my entire being. Here he was standing before me as effortlessly perfect as always without even trying while I looked like I had been run over. My hair was in its easy-to-go-messy bun, worn-out clothes sticky with sweat and tears and I'd lost weight recently too.
I thought he'd be disgusted, couldn't even blame him if he was.
Instead, he pulled aside a fallen strand of hair from the side of my face, his eyes burning with pure fury.
"Did that b*stard do this to you?"
I chuckled derisively even though there was nothing funny to be chuckling about, or maybe I was wrong about that just like how I was wrong about many other things.
There was a big joke that deserved to be laughed at.
ME
I pushed everyone away to be with a man who was twice my age, thinking he was mature and would love me in a way a new guy around my own age could, I assumed that he was loving and mature.
But once he knew that he had captured me, that my whole world now revolved around him and nobody else he probably got bored.
That's why he's been creating this gap between us, a line that couldn't be crossed.
That was why he didn't mind his mother humiliating me.
Why would he? I was mainly a remnant of a past he was probably dying to forget all about.
And now with nobody to call, the only person I could lean on was my Stepson.
Hayden Winter.
I kept laughing until it turned into heated he has again, he embraced me, his huge arms enveloping me into his warmth and musky cologne. He let me cry until I was tired and red-eyed. Then it took me to his car and drove to his Villa on the outskirts of the city.
He pressured me into taking a bath, saying I'd feel better afterwards. I resisted for a bit, then stepped under the shower of his spare bedroom, letting the rushing water take care of the grime, sweat, and tears.
I stepped out, admittingly feeling physically lighter with a towel wrapped up to my chest. My relief quickly came to an abrupt pause when I remembered that I had no clothes to wear, I was thinking about that when a knock came on the door, followed by Hayden's voice.
"Hey, Michelle, are you out of the shower yet, I have something for you,"
My heart was beating so fast I was sure it was ready to explode inside my chest, it was one thing to call him in the heat of the moment and now that I had cooled down I was beginning to have second thoughts. Maybe this was a bad idea?
Hayden and Elliot never saw eye to eye, he was also one of the biggest opponents against our marriage.
I don't even know what possessed me to call him, perhaps it was the desperation rather than despair that made me dial his number but now that I had come to down I was beginning to rethink my decision.
"Come in..."
No matter what he helped me out when there was no one else to turn to so I should at least give him the benefit of the doubt for now.
He came in, his eyes finding me in an instant and a smile warming up his face. He had a large black shirt draped across his arm.
"Here, this is one of my smaller shirts,"
You may also like
9.3
My husband, Deegan, plunged a needle into my heavily pregnant belly. He said it was a mild sedative to "slow things down." The truth was a brutal betrayal.
His brother's widow, Karmen, was also due, and her son had to be born first to secure the family inheritance. He was sacrificing our child for money.
He locked me in a panic room, leaving me to suffer through agonizing contractions alone.
His sister found me, not to help, but to kick me and let her venomous snake sink its fangs into my arm.
As I lay bleeding out, my baby dying inside me, he had all the life-saving medical equipment moved to Karmen's private clinic, leaving me with nothing.
He called me a manipulative actress, a gold-digger trying to steal the inheritance. The man who swore to protect me left me to die on a cold floor, choosing a birthright over his own child.
But I didn't die. My billionaire father saved me, and I was reborn from the ashes of my grief. Years later, when Deegan stormed into my boardroom, convinced he could drag his "dead" wife home, I looked at the pathetic man he'd become. I slowly pulled the wedding ring from my finger and let it fall to the floor.
"The woman who loved you died that night."
7.9
Jace Maddox is a billionaire tech CEO known for his cold heart and strict routines. Behind closed doors, he's a man haunted by betrayal, grief, and secrets too heavy to share.
River Hale is an ex-military bodyguard with nothing left to lose. Disgraced and angry, he's hired to protect the one man he can't stand, Jace Maddox.
When a dangerous scandal threatens to destroy Jace's empire, the only way to survive is a fake relationship. A staged romance to control the media.
But fake feelings start to feel real.
As secrets unravel and enemies close in, both men must face their pasts, and the truth about what they've come to mean to each other.
8.8
After years trapped under the cruelty of her stepfather's control, Isabella knew the rules of surviving in a world ruled by men like Marco Deluca - never be noticed, never be wanted. But when she becomes a witness to something she was never meant to see, Vincenzo spares her life for reasons he doesn't understand.
Drawn to her quiet strength and fearless gaze, he finds himself willing to burn his empire to keep her safe. But loving him means stepping into a world that destroys everything it touches... and she might be the only thing he can't afford to lose.
9.0
I married the CEO of the powerful Powers Corporation, and everyone saw me as the perfect trophy wife. They assumed my days were filled with nothing but shopping on Fifth Avenue.
But this prestigious family was a house of cards. My husband's siblings were spoiled, useless children threatening to bring the entire empire down with their stupidity.
His brother, Braden, was a parasite who mistook his trust fund for "freedom." His sister, Chelsea, was a brainless socialite being used as a pawn in a public scandal by a con artist.
Even the family's ruthless Chief of Staff, a man meant to be their shield, looked at me with utter contempt, viewing me as just another problem to be managed.
They all saw a fragile doll. They had no idea that their weakness was an insult to the family name, and I was not going to stand for it.
It was time to discipline the children. The first lesson began at 3,000 feet, when I kicked my brother-in-law out of a plane mid-flight. His rehabilitation—and my takeover of this family—had just begun.
9.0
Once a pampered princess, Alaina now clutched a deactivated American Express card, staring out at Central Park. Her family’s fortune was gone, her life, over.
Her family's Hamptons estate, a four-generation legacy, was seized by Dyer Capital. The name hit her: Hardin Dyer, the poor boy she’d once scorned, had returned.
Hardin marched in, serving a divorce agreement. He'd orchestrated her family's downfall for revenge, giving her 24 hours to vacate his property. Penniless, her father faced prison, needing $50 million. Her mother forced her to beg Hardin, who sneered, offering the money for her body. Alaina ripped up the contract.
Hours later, her father had a heart attack. Desperate, she became "Lexi," a club girl enduring humiliation. In the Viper Room, Hardin's lackeys demanded she lick whiskey off his shoe for $10,000. Hardin watched. Outside, her brother Ashton's hand was threatened for a $3 million debt. Spirit shattered, Alaina returned, knelt on broken glass, offering to sign. But Hardin declared her family "dead," offering $10 million for her body, commanding her to use her mouth.
In a furious act of defiance, Alaina threw whiskey in his face, snatched the check, and fled. Yet, when he finally took her, a searing, foreign pain and blood on the sheets revealed a shocking truth: he had never touched her three years ago. Why had he let her believe such a monstrous lie?
7.6
I was the ultimate trophy wife, a polished ornament in Francisco Zimmerman’s billionaire empire. For three years, I perfected the "Zimmerman Wife Smile," playing the role of the devoted partner while smoothing the Egyptian cotton of his shirts.
The illusion shattered when I stood outside his study and heard him laughing with his mistress, Annalise.
"She’s just a vase that only knows how to smile," Francisco’s voice was cold, devoid of any warmth. "As long as I pay the maintenance fees on time, she stays obedient."
I walked out that night with nothing but a canvas bag and the clothes on my back. But Francisco wasn't finished with his "asset." He froze my bank accounts and used his massive influence to blacklist me from every interior design firm in New York. He tracked my phone, watching me struggle from the shadows, waiting for me to starve so I would crawl back to his mansion.
He even showed up at the dive bar where I was playing piano for rent money, mocking my desperation.
"You have technique, but no heart," he sneered, tossing a silver coin into my tip jar as if I were a beggar. "You're hollow, Iris. Just like your pride."
I couldn't believe this was the same man whose life I had saved during a bloody night in Macau. To him, I wasn't a wife; I was a stock price that needed stabilizing. The more I fought for my independence, the tighter he pulled the net, determined to break my spirit until I had no choice but to return to his gilded cage.
Then, the morning sickness hit. I realized I wasn't just carrying my own life anymore—I was carrying his heir. If Francisco found out, he would never let us go; he would turn my child into another "performance bonus" for his brand.
Looking at the sonogram, I knew a divorce would never be enough to escape a man who thought he owned the world.
"I'm not going back," I whispered, staring at his yacht moored in the harbor. "To save this baby, Iris Potter has to die."