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Married To The Ruthless Disgraced Billionaire Novel Cover

Married To The Ruthless Disgraced Billionaire

I was once the untouchable heiress to the Schroeder empire, until a corporate fraud conviction stripped away my life and threw me into federal prison for five brutal years. On the day of my release, I stepped out into the freezing rain only to realize I had been utterly abandoned by everyone I loved. My family sent no one. My former best friends blocked my number, and high-society women took photos of my shivering, pathetic state for laughs. To survive, I made a desperate deal to act as the fake fiancée of Kayden Washington, a ruthless, disgraced billionaire fighting his own blood. But the moment we joined forces, the nightmare escalated. Our safehouse was ransacked, we were hunted by tactical hitmen in the dark, and my adoptive brother stole my dead mother's diary just to bribe me into leaving New York forever. Worse, the digital trail of my framing traced back to a top-tier operative manipulating both our families from the shadows. I didn't understand why my own family had sacrificed me like a worthless pawn to ignite a massive, invisible war. What dark secret was I actually taking the fall for? Just as Kayden and I prepared to burn both empires to the ground, a mysterious courier dropped a package at my door. Inside rested the Schroeder Patriarch's solid gold ring—the ultimate symbol of absolute power—sent directly to me, the disgraced exile. "They took your past, but I will give you the power to forge a new future." The game hadn't just changed. The board had been flipped, and I was going back to take the throne.
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Chapter 2

The white keycard Kayden had given me was slick with rain. I turned it over in my fingers. On the back, someone had scrawled an address in permanent marker. Brooklyn.

I took a bus and walked five blocks, my wet shoes squeaking with every step. The Brooklyn apartment building looked like it was held together by graffiti and black mold.

I stood in front of the battered metal security door. I swiped the keycard through the reader. A green light blinked, and the lock clicked open.

I climbed three flights of stairs. The hallway smelled of mold and stale cigarettes. I found the apartment number and pressed the faulty doorbell with my numb, bleeding fingers.

The door was yanked open. A man stood there with wild hair sticking up in every direction. He looked me up and down, his eyes wide and unblinking, before letting out a high-pitched, mocking snort.

"Josef," a low voice called from inside the apartment. Kayden. "Let her in."

So that was his name. Josef.

I ignored him. I pushed my shoulder past his chest and forced my way inside.

The heavy stench of cheap cigars and stale coffee hit the back of my throat. I coughed, my lungs protesting the thick air.

Through the dim lighting of the cramped living room, I saw Kayden. He was standing in front of a massive whiteboard covered in complex financial algorithms. His broad back was to me, his posture radiating a lethal, coiled focus.

He turned around. His dark eyes swept over my shivering, dripping frame. He grabbed a clean towel from the back of a chair and threw it directly at my face. The heavy cotton hit me with a soft thud. It was a rough gesture, but the fabric was dry.

I pulled the towel off my face, scrubbed my wet hair, and dropped onto the sagging, torn sofa.

"What are the terms?" I demanded, looking straight into his eyes.

Kayden walked over. He towered over me, the sheer physical mass of him making the small room feel suffocating.

"You play my gold-digging fiancée," he said, his voice flat. "You keep the media off my back and block the arranged marriages my family is trying to force on me."

I let out a harsh, bitter laugh. "And what exactly do I get? Because I don't work for IOUs."

Kayden leaned down. He planted both hands on the back of the sofa, trapping me between his arms. His face was inches from mine. He smelled like expensive scotch and raw danger.

"I will find out exactly who framed you for the corporate fraud," he whispered, his breath hot against my cold cheek.

My heart physically skipped a beat. A jolt of adrenaline shot straight to my fingertips. I forced my face to remain entirely blank.

"I want a hundred thousand dollars. Cash. Upfront," I said, my voice steady despite the hammering in my chest.

Kayden raised a single, dark eyebrow. He looked mildly surprised by my audacity, but he didn't argue. He pulled a sleek black phone from his pocket, tapped the screen a few times, and routed the money through a hidden offshore account.

My cheap phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out. A bank notification flashed across the cracked screen. The phone was ancient, but the prepaid balance hadn't run out yet. The money was there. The tension in my neck muscles finally released.

"We need ground rules," I said, sitting up straighter.

In the cramped kitchen, Josef started violently slamming pots and pans into the sink. The deafening crash of metal on metal made my skull throb.

I snapped. I grabbed a green apple from the coffee table and hurled it with terrifying precision. It smashed directly into the wooden doorframe, inches from Josef's head, exploding into chunks.

"Shut up!" I screamed, my vocal cords tearing.

Josef blinked, looked at the smashed apple, and went completely silent.

Kayden's eyes darkened with a flash of genuine approval. He picked up a printed Non-Disclosure Agreement from the table and handed it to me along with a heavy metal pen.

The pen scratched loudly against the thick paper as I signed my name.

Before I could hand it back, a deafening crash shook the entire apartment. Someone was kicking the front door with enough force to make the plaster rain down from the ceiling in a fine white dust.

Kayden's eyes turned to ice. He grabbed my upper arm and shoved me hard behind his back.

Josef let out a gleeful chirp and slid a solid aluminum baseball bat from under the sofa.

The deadbolt splintered. The door flew open, slamming into the wall.

Three massive men stepped into the room. They wore cheap suits, but the Washington family security pins on their lapels gleamed in the dim light.

The lead thug sneered, revealing a gold tooth. "Look at the stray dog in his little pound. Benji sent us to clear out this property."

Kayden stared at them. There was no fear in his eyes. Only the cold, empty look of a man staring at corpses.

The thug took a step forward, reaching out to shove Kayden's chest.

I didn't think. The prison instincts took over. I darted out from behind Kayden, grabbed the heavy glass ashtray off the table, and smashed it down onto the edge of the coffee table.

The glass shattered with a violent crack. I gripped the jagged base, the sharp edges biting into my palm, and pointed the bloody, broken glass directly at the thug's throat.

"Get the hell out of my house," I snarled, my eyes wide and feral.

The thugs froze. They looked at the crazy woman bleeding onto the floor, genuinely unnerved.

That second of hesitation was all Josef needed. He lunged like a rabid dog, swinging the bat in a brutal arc. The sickening crack of breaking ribs echoed through the room as the lead thug collapsed, screaming.

Kayden moved with terrifying speed. He snatched a telescopic baton from the second thug's belt, flipped it open with a flick of his wrist, and drove the steel tip directly into the side of the man's neck. The thug's eyes rolled back, and he dropped like a stone.

The third man looked at his bleeding partners, turned, and sprinted down the hallway.

Kayden tossed the baton onto the floor. He turned slowly, his chest heaving slightly, and looked at me.

I was still holding the broken glass. My hands were shaking so violently I could barely keep my grip. I dropped the glass. It shattered into smaller pieces on the rug. I took a deep, shuddering breath, forcing oxygen back into my brain.

I looked up at Kayden. "I want hazard pay added to the contract."

The corner of Kayden's mouth twitched upward in a dark, almost imperceptible smirk. He took the signed NDA from my trembling hand.

"Pleasure doing business with you," he murmured.

He pointed a long finger toward the only bedroom down the narrow hall. "That one has a lock. It's yours."

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