
My Empire, My Love, And No Regrets
My father raised seven brilliant orphans to be my potential husbands. For years, I only had eyes for one of them, the cold and distant Damien Paul, believing his distance was a wall I just had to break through.
That belief shattered last night when I found him in the garden, kissing his foster sister, Eve—the fragile girl my family took in at his request, the one I had treated like my own sister.
But the true horror came when I overheard the other six Fellows talking in the library.
They weren't competing for me. They were working together, orchestrating "accidents" and mocking my "stupid, blind" devotion to keep me away from Damien.
Their loyalty wasn't to me, the heiress who held their futures in her hands. It was to Eve.
I wasn't a woman to be won. I was a foolish burden to be managed. The seven men I grew up with, the men who owed my family everything, were a cult, and she was their queen.
This morning, I walked into my father's study to make a decision that would burn their world to the ground. He smiled, asking if I'd finally won Damien over.
"No, Dad," I said, my voice firm. "I'm marrying Hunter Beach."
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Chapter 3
My father's words were meant to teach Damien a lesson about his place, about his duty to me. He was telling him that I was to be his world, the woman he must honor above all others.
I remember the feeling of my small boot on his broad shoulder. My heart had hammered in my chest. It was the first time I realized I was in love with him.
I was too young, too infatuated, to see the shame burning in his eyes.
After that day, I never asked him to do it again. I respected his pride too much.
Now, I watched as he knelt willingly, gladly, for another woman. For Eve. He looked up at her with a tenderness that made my own eyes sting.
The sight was a physical pain, sharp and unbearable. I forced myself to look away.
I kicked my horse, a powerful black gelding named Midnight, into a gallop. I urged him faster and faster, the wind whipping past my face, temporarily chasing away the storm in my heart. I needed to feel free, to outrun the suffocating reality of my life.
The stable had a challenging obstacle course, with high jumps and tight turns. I guided Midnight towards it, pushing him to his limits.
We approached a tall oxer. Midnight gathered himself, launching into the air.
In that split second, I heard a sharp crack.
The saddle cinch had snapped.
I was thrown from the horse, landing hard on the unforgiving ground. A searing pain shot through my leg. Midnight, spooked and riderless, thrashed wildly, his powerful hooves dangerously close to my head.
Through a haze of pain, I looked for Damien. He was still with Eve, his back to me, completely oblivious to my plight. He was supposed to be my designated guardian during these lessons, his one official duty.
He had failed. He was too busy doting on her.
"Damien!" I screamed, my voice raw with desperation and agony.
He finally turned, his eyes widening in shock. With a speed that was almost inhuman, he was at my side. He grabbed Midnight's reins, his voice a low command that instantly calmed the frantic animal. He was a master of beasts, a skill he'd learned on the streets.
His job was to keep me safe. He had been so focused on Eve he had almost gotten me killed.
The next thing I knew, I was in a hospital bed with a broken leg.
Damien, seemingly wracked with guilt, volunteered to be my caretaker. He was a perfect nurse, attentive and gentle. He brought me my meals, read to me, and made sure I was never in any pain.
For a few days, a foolish part of me allowed a sliver of hope to grow. Maybe he did care. Maybe this accident had made him realize something.
But then I would see the way his eyes lit up whenever Eve visited, the secret smiles they shared when they thought I wasn't looking. The hope would wither and die.
My leg was healing. One night, I woke up needing to use the restroom. The cast made it awkward, and I hobbled slowly down the quiet, sterile hallway of the private hospital wing.
That's when I heard voices from a small alcove near the nurses' station. It was Javier and Damien.
"You went too far this time, Damien," Javier's voice was a low hiss. "Cutting her saddle strap? She could have broken her neck."
My blood ran cold. I pressed myself against the wall, my heart pounding in my ears.
Damien's reply was chillingly calm. "I didn't expect the horse to spook like that. My calculations showed she'd just have a minor fall, maybe a sprain. Enough to scare her, to make her more dependent. This broken leg... it was an anomaly."
He had calculated my fall. It wasn't an accident. It was a plan.
"So this is your penance?" Javier asked. "Playing the devoted caretaker?"
"I'll see it through," Damien said. "Then this will all be over. She'll be fine, and we can move on."
A wave of nausea washed over me. I felt a coldness spread from my chest through my entire body, a chill that had nothing to do with the hospital air conditioning.
He had done this to me. On purpose. To "scare" me. To "manage" me.
I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood, but I didn't feel the pain. The agony in my heart was so much greater, it eclipsed everything else. This wasn't just betrayal. This was monstrous.
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7.4
I single-handedly saved my family's corporate empire from a hostile takeover, securing our market share for the next decade.
But my grandfather didn't see me as a hero. He saw me as a flawed piece of inventory.
To calm the board and fix the reputation I supposedly ruined, he forced me into an arranged marriage, auctioning me off to the highest bidder.
Desperate, I turned to my childhood friend, Egnacio, the only person who ever promised to protect me.
But instead of saving me, he publicly humiliated me. He used my desperation as a networking opportunity, pitching my arranged marriage as a business deal to a ruthless private equity king named Dexter Mathews.
Later that night, I caught Egnacio holding my cruel cousin in his arms.
"What man wants to be with a woman who looks at you like she's planning a hostile takeover?"
Hearing him mock my pain shattered the last bit of hope I had.
I realized I was never family to them. I was just a sharp knife, used to cut down their enemies and then traded for cash before I got dull.
The heartbreak vanished, replaced by a cold, violent rage.
I didn't break, and I didn't run.
Instead, I got into the back of Dexter Mathews's car. He had watched my family tear me apart, but he didn't see a broken pawn. He saw a queen.
And together, we were going to burn their entire empire to the ground.

9.3
They say you can't have it all. I'm about to prove them wrong-or destroy myself trying.
When my struggling mother married billionaire Richard Stone, I thought I was gaining a family. Instead, I found three stepbrothers who became my obsession, my downfall, and my salvation.
Dominic, the eldest, cold and commanding, who kisses me like he's claiming his kingdom and looks at me like I'm the only thing he can't control.
Julian, the charming playboy who hides a vulnerable soul beneath his perfect smile, making me feel like I'm the only woman he's ever truly seen.
Asher, the brooding artist who paints me like I'm his muse and touches me like I'm his masterpiece, seeing parts of my soul I didn't know existed.
They're forbidden. They're dangerous. They're everything I shouldn't want.
But when I discover my father didn't die by suicide that he was murdered by the very man who now calls himself my stepfather, these three powerful men becomes my unlikely allies.
First it was a forbidden attraction, now it's an arrangement that defies every rule.
The rules are simple:
I'll give each of them a chance.
I'll take everything they offer.
And in the end, I'll have to make the hardest decision of my life:
Choose one of them. Choose all of them. Or choose myself.

9.6
To escape my sister-in-law selling me off to a local thug, I married a complete stranger I met at City Hall.
My new husband, Drake, claimed to be a broke Uber driver who could barely make rent.
He even made me sign a brutal ten-page prenup just to ensure I wouldn't take his rusted, beat-up Ford sedan if we ever divorced.
I thought I was just sharing a decaying Brooklyn apartment with a struggling man at the bottom of the ladder.
But things quickly stopped making sense.
When that local thug cornered me at a restaurant, my "weak" husband didn't cower.
Instead, he dismantled three massive mobsters in ten seconds with the terrifying, fluid speed of an apex predator.
"I used to be a human punching bag in an underground boxing gym to pay off debts."
I believed his excuse, until his supposedly homeless grandfather showed up at our door in a moth-eaten sweater, begging to sleep on our lumpy sofa.
Before going to sleep, the old man casually pressed a heavy, intricately engraved pocket watch into my hand as a wedding gift.
He claimed it was a cheap flea market find that didn't even keep time.
But the sheer weight of the solid rose gold and the flawless mechanical gears inside screamed otherwise.
Why did a destitute driver have the aura of a man who controlled empires?
And what kind of homeless old man casually hands over a priceless, museum-grade antique?
I had no idea the "broke driver" sleeping on my floor was actually a ruthless billionaire CEO, and I had just walked straight into his trap.

9.0
Eileen woke up in a trashed hotel room, her head pounding with the pathetic memories of a despised Hollywood actress.
Outside the window, paparazzi were already screaming about her manufactured cheating scandal, but the real nightmare was waiting at her door.
Her paralyzed, billionaire husband, Carlisle Vinson, looked at her with pure disgust while his butler shoved a divorce settlement at her chest.
"Mr. Vinson is offering a severance package of fifty million dollars, provided you sign immediately and vacate the premises."
The original owner had left her an absolute mess.
Her trusted assistant had sold her room number to the press to frame her, and a playboy had scammed her out of her entire two million dollar life savings.
If she signed those papers and lost the Vinson family's protection, the breach of contract fees and her enemies in the industry would swallow her alive in days.
Eileen felt a cold fury override the original owner's lingering panic.
Why should she take the fall and be thrown out on the streets while the parasites who set her up lived out their wealthy fantasies?
She had died once, and she wasn't about to waste her second chance playing the victim.
Eileen slammed the heavy divorce folder shut right against the butler's chest.
"I'm not signing," she said with a terrifying, absolute calm.
She stepped behind her husband's wheelchair, ready to shield him from the cameras, secretly cure his dead legs, and make everyone who betrayed her bleed.

8.2
She was the sacrifice-married off to the city's most ruthless billionaire to save a family that never loved her. But when she discovered his betrayal with her own sister, everything shattered.
Pregnant, penniless, and abandoned, Bella Hart disappeared into the night, vowing never to be powerless again.
Few years later, she returns as the CEO of an international empire, more powerful than anyone imagined possible. Her secret weapon? The little boy with piercing grey eyes who calls her "Mommy, he is the son of the man who destroyed her.
Caleb Black spent years drowning in regret, searching for the wife he threw away. Now she's back, untouchable and unforgiving. He'll do anything to reclaim what he lost his wife, his son, his chance at redemption.
But Bella didn't return to forgive, she returned to conquer.
With enemies circling, old wounds bleeding, and a passion that refuses to die, Bella must decide: Will she let the man who broke her back into her heart? Or will she destroy him the way he once destroyed her? In a world of billion-dollar deals and deadly secrets, love is the most dangerous gamble of all.

9.7
Eleonora held the positive pregnancy test, trembling with fragile hope as she told her husband they were having a baby.
Instead of embracing her, Butler slapped the plastic stick away, his eyes cold and dead.
"You cheating whore," he spat, throwing a stack of papers at her face.
He didn't listen to her desperate pleas. He ordered his bodyguards to drag her out of their penthouse and lock her in a private hospital room.
Trapped and terrified, Eleonora watched in horror as Butler's mistress walked in with a wicked smile.
The mistress shoved a medical consent form, signed with Butler's unmistakable handwriting, right in front of Eleonora's face.
"This isn't just an abortion," the mistress sneered. "It's a full hysterectomy. You'll never have a child again."
Eleonora's heart shattered into pieces. She couldn't understand how the man she loved could be so cruel, willing to kill their unborn baby and mutilate her body over a fabricated lie.
Driven by pure maternal terror, she smeared her blood on the forged papers, set the hospital room on fire, and let the world believe she had burned to ashes.
Five years later, Eleonora returned to New York with her young son.
She was no longer the weak, broken girl who begged for mercy.
Walking into the Holloway Group boardroom in a flawless Dior suit, she slammed a legal document onto Butler's desk.
She was still his legal wife, and she was here to dismantle his empire piece by piece.