Matched To The Untouchable Billionaire King
Eileen Goff was a nobody, scrubbing diner tables to survive while her greedy family bled her dry.
On the eve of her twentieth birthday, the government's mandatory marriage algorithm matched her with a spouse.
It wasn't a plumber or a teacher. It was Harrison Butler, the ruthless, untouchable billionaire king of Butler Industries.
At the registry, Harrison's glamorous intended fiancée threw a half-million-dollar check at her.
"Take the money, get out of here, and never show your face again."
The registry supervisor even offered her a million dollars to sign a cancellation agreement, trying to erase her from the system.
At their first high-society gala, Harrison's stepmother and the fiancée locked Eileen in an empty room, plotting to humiliate her and prove she was just cheap trash.
Eileen was terrified and confused. Men like Harrison Butler didn't just accept federal matches with girls who smelled like fried onions.
But instead of abandoning her, Harrison smashed the door open, publicly banished his own family, and kissed her in front of the entire city's elite.
Why was this billionaire going to such extreme lengths to protect a complete stranger?
Then she overheard his assistant talking about a marriage clause in his grandfather's trust fund.
He didn't love her; he just needed a powerless, state-mandated wife to lock his parasitic family out of his empire.
Realizing she was a highly valuable pawn, Eileen stopped trembling, looked the billionaire in the eye, and spoke.
"I believe we can have more than just a legal relationship. We can have a business arrangement."
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Chapter 4
The temperature in the small office seemed to drop twenty degrees. Harrison Butler's presence sucked all the air out of the room, replacing it with a palpable, freezing authority.
Mr. Davison shot to his feet, his face draining of all color. "M-Mr. Butler..." he stammered, looking like he'd just seen a ghost.
Elianna, who had been peering through the door's window, rushed forward, her face alight with a triumphant smile. She thought he was here for her.
"Harrison!" she chirped, her voice cloyingly sweet.
He ignored them both. His gaze, intense and piercing, was locked on Eileen. On her face, and on the pen still suspended in her hand, hovering over the agreement.
Eileen's hand was frozen in place. Her heart, which had been pounding, now seemed to have stopped altogether. He was taller than he looked in pictures, more imposing. The raw power coming off him was a physical force.
His eyes moved from her face down to the desk, taking in the cancellation agreement and the platinum bank card. A soft, almost inaudible sound of contempt escaped his lips.
He turned his head slowly, pinning the terrified Mr. Davison with a look that could freeze fire.
"Who," he said, his voice dangerously quiet, "gave you the authority to interfere with the execution of federal law?"
Davison's knees buckled. "I... I was just... the system, it..."
"The system?" Harrison cut him off, taking a step into the room. "My tech team performed a full diagnostic sweep of the federal registry's backend an hour ago. There was no anomaly. Would you like me to forward you their report, or should I send it directly to the Department of Justice?"
The supervisor looked like he was going to be sick. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead, soaking the collar of his cheap shirt. He was finished.
Elianna, sensing the tide turning violently against her, rushed to Harrison's side, attempting to link her arm with his. "Harrison, it's just a misunderstanding! This woman is not right for you, anyone can see that!"
He pulled his arm away, a sharp, dismissive gesture that left no room for argument. He didn't even look at her as he spoke, his words like chips of ice.
"Whether she is right for me is not for you to decide. It is decided by the law of this country."
He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. Then, he delivered the final blow.
"I, Harrison Butler, as a citizen of this nation, will fully comply with the law. I accept the partner the state has mandated for me."
The declaration was a slap in the face, echoing in the stunned silence of the room. Elianna and Davison stared, mouths agape.
Eileen looked up, her mind reeling. He was... defending her? He was choosing her?
Harrison no longer paid any attention to the others. He walked to the desk and stood over Eileen, his shadow falling across her.
He didn't ask her what she wanted. He stated a fact. "We have paperwork to complete."
His hand shot out and snatched the cancellation agreement from the desk. He ripped it cleanly in half, then in half again, and dropped the pieces into the small trash can by the desk.
Then, he placed a new document in front of her. A clean, official, and terrifyingly real Marriage Consent Form.
Eileen stared into his deep, unreadable eyes, searching for a clue, a hint of his motive. There was nothing. Just cold, hard resolve. She didn't know why he was doing this, but she knew, with a sudden, gut-wrenching certainty, that this was her only way forward.
The fight went out of her. The temptation of the million dollars evaporated. There was only this man, and the path he was carving for her.
She picked up the pen. This time, it did not tremble. With a steady hand, she signed her name on the line. Eileen Goff.
A flicker of something-satisfaction, perhaps-crossed Harrison's lips. He took the pen from her, his fingers brushing hers for a brief, electric moment, and signed his own name with a bold, decisive stroke.
Davison, looking like a man on his way to the gallows, shakily processed the documents, his hands fumbling with the official stamp.
When the two red marriage certificates were slid across the desk, Eileen still felt like she was in a dream.
From this moment on, she was Eileen Butler. Protected-and owned-by federal law and the man standing beside her.
Harrison took his copy and slid it into his jacket pocket. He then looked at Eileen.
"Let's go, my wife."
He reached down and took her hand. His touch was firm, possessive. Eileen's entire body went rigid, but she didn't pull away.
Together, under the venomous glare of Elianna Nelson, they walked out of the Federal Marriage Registry.
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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.
9.1
With only fifteen days of cash flow left to save her tech startup, Aida had no choice but to seek a five-million-dollar bridge loan from Brendan Walls, a ruthless billionaire predator.
He agreed to sign the check, but on one sickening condition. He demanded Aida act as bait to get close to his corporate rival, Grayson Lott, treating her like a high-end call girl for a business transaction.
Forced to comply to save her employees, Aida let Grayson take her to a windowless underground club, where he secretly spiked her whiskey.
As the drugs paralyzed her body, triggering horrific flashbacks of a brutal assault from six years ago, Aida locked herself in the bathroom. She had to shatter a mirror and slice her own thigh open with a jagged shard of glass just to stay conscious enough to call Brendan for help.
Brendan's armored SUV immediately smashed through the club's wall to save her, and Grayson was arrested. But lying in the hospital, the horrifying truth finally clicked in Aida's mind.
The rescue was too fast. Brendan’s men hadn't rushed from Midtown; they had been parked outside the entire time. He had watched Grayson drug her and waited for the felony to happen just so he could legally seize Grayson's company. He had gambled her life and trauma for a hostile takeover.
When Brendan casually tossed a signed contract and luxury car keys onto her hospital bed as hush money, the last thread of Aida's sanity snapped.
"The deal is dead. NovaTech is mine. If you ever come near me again, I will kill you."
Bleeding and shaking with icy rage, Aida threw the keys at his chest, formally declaring war on the monster who thought he could buy her soul.
8.9
My father was marrying a gold-digger, the mother of my cheating ex-boyfriend.
To end the charade, I crashed their luxury wedding with a ten-foot funeral wreath.
In front of hundreds of elites, my father slapped me across the face, calling me a vicious bitch while his new wife smiled in victory.
I triggered the estate's fire system to ruin them, but a terrifying stranger in the VIP section bypassed my military-grade hack in seconds.
He was Kavon Velasquez, a dangerous billionaire heir who had been missing for twelve years.
Instead of exposing me, he shielded me from my father's second blow.
When my pathetic ex tried to drag me away, I grabbed Kavon and kissed him to humiliate my ex.
I shoved a $500,000 check into Kavon's pocket as hush money and left.
I thought that was the end of it.
But why did this apex predator move into the penthouse right next to mine at 2 AM?
Why did he violently crush my ex's face the next morning just for grabbing my arm?
"She is my woman. If you ever come within ten feet of her again, I will bury you."
I didn't understand why a man with lethal skills was suddenly hunting me.
Then I found out he had just blackmailed my father with undeniable proof of corporate money laundering.
His demand wasn't money. It was me.
He ordered my father to announce our engagement by tomorrow sunset, and this dangerous game officially began.
8.1
Terminally ill.
Betrayed by her husband.
Abandoned by the only family she had.
Ariel died with nothing... and no one.
But fate gives her a second chance.
Reborn three years before her death, she walks away from the man who ruined her life-and takes back everything they stole.
Her love.
Her identity.
Her power.
Now, the cold billionaire who once ignored her can't take his eyes off her.
The brother who abandoned her starts to regret.
Too late.
Because this time, Ariel isn't the woman who begs.
She's the one who makes them kneel.
9.7
For three years, I endured being treated like a walking ATM and a maid by my husband's family, biting my tongue to keep the peace.
Then, my husband's buddy suddenly dropped off a nine-year-old boy at my front door.
The crumpled note from my husband casually explained it was his illegitimate son, blaming me for being barren and demanding I raise the kid as our own.
My mother-in-law was absolutely thrilled, parading the boy around as the true heir at the dinner table.
"Some trees just don't bear fruit, no matter how much water you give them," she sneered.
My brother-in-law cheered, and my drunk father-in-law demanded I cook a feast to celebrate.
They actually expected me to continue paying the mortgage, buying the groceries, and cleaning up their endless messes, all while raising the living proof of my husband's betrayal.
I looked at the parasites who had drained me dry for years, acting like they were doing me a favor by letting me stay in a house that my money paid for.
I didn't scream, and I didn't cry.
I simply called my lawyer to file for an immediate divorce, froze every single bank account and credit card they relied on, and drove off to my grandmother's secluded cabin in the woods.
Let them see how long they survive without my money.
8.8
I discovered I was pregnant with twins from my marriage to Ell Steele, the ruthless CEO of the Steele Group. But he saw me as a gold-digging nobody, unworthy of his heir.
He stormed into our penthouse with his lawyer, slamming down abortion consent forms and a divorce NDA, offering five million to terminate and vanish. "You're not fit to carry my child," he spat, gripping my jaw.
I refused the abortion, signed the zero-payout divorce to keep my company insurance for my dying mom's ICU bills, but stayed on as an admin assistant. Brittany, his mistress, spilled coffee on my reports, got me demoted to the dusty sub-basement sorting old files.
She framed me for attacking her, security dragged me out, slamming me into doorframes that cramped my belly. Trapped in a sabotaged freight elevator, I nearly miscarried in the dark, gasping for air while Ell rescued me—only to find my prenatal pills and rage.
At the gala, I warned Brittany the Angel's Tears necklace—Georgina's flawed design—was cracking. She accused me of theft; Ell ordered me stripped and searched publicly. It snapped anyway, shattering the diamond, but he blamed me, firing and blacklisting me on the spot.
Beaten down, humiliated, body aching from their cruelty—how could my husband, who I once loved, destroy me without a shred of doubt? What made him so blind to my pain?
Dragged from our home in the rain, a black Rolls-Royce Phantom pulled up. The butler bowed: "Madame Aura, your suite awaits." As Ell watched from his Maybach, I initiated the hostile takeover—time to bankrupt them all.