My Fiancé Slapped Me and Lost Me To His Billionaire Nemesis
Being second best had always been my place. My sister had the love, the attention,
the praise. Even now, she had the past. Rhys Granger was my fiancé after she
vanished. A billionaire. My parents pushed me into the engagement, and I accepted
it. I had wanted him for years.
I thought this was my turn to be chosen. I was wrong. One night, he slapped me. All
because of my sister's mug. Got angry and went to the club to cool my head down.
Tall, dangerous, unfairly hot. The kind of man who makes you want to sin just by
existing. It was reckless, It was stupid, It was completely ill-advised. But it was also
the Best. Sex. Of. My. Life. And, as it turned out, the best decision I'd ever made.
Because my one-night stand isn't just some random guy. He's richer than Rhys, more
powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be
playing with.
And now, he's not letting me go
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Chapter 5
Aria's POV
I woke up with my heart pounding so hard it felt like it would break out of my chest. My hands were tied behind me, and the room was white and bright like a hospital. My head felt heavy, like I had been hit by a truck.
I tried to sit up, but my body was too weak.
A door opened.
A man in a dark uniform walked in. He looked serious, like he had never laughed in his life. His eyes scanned the room, then landed on me.
"Aria Belmont," he said, his voice low. "You are awake."
I stared at him, trying to remember where I was. The last thing I remembered was the camera flash, then Rhys shouting, then the police officer saying my name.
I swallowed hard. "Where am I?"
The man's lips tightened. "A holding room." I felt my throat close.
"Why am I here?" I asked.
He looked at me like I was a problem. "You are under investigation for assault."
I blinked. "I did not assault anyone."
He raised an eyebrow. "You were seen fighting with Rhys Granger."
I closed my eyes. That night replayed in my head, like a bad movie. Rhys's face, the knife, Dante tackling him, the police sirens, the camera flash.
I opened my eyes again. "I was defending myself."
The man sighed. "We will ask questions later."
He left the room, the door clicking shut.
I sat there, heart racing, trying to breathe. The walls felt like they were closing in. I could not stop thinking about Dante. He had been with me, He had been strong, He had been my shield. But now I was alone.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, but I could not reach it. The handcuffs were tight and the chain pulled my arms behind me.
Then the door opened again. This time, it was not a police officer.
It was Dante. My heart jumped so hard I thought it might fly out of my body.
He walked in like he owned the room. His hair was messy, his suit rumpled. His eyes were dark and burning. He looked angry.
He stopped in front of me. I stared at him, my mouth open.
He leaned down and whispered, "They cannot keep you here."
I swallowed. "How did you get in?"
He smiled, but it was not a kind smile. It was a dangerous one. "I have my ways."
My eyes filled with tears. "They think I attacked Rhys."
Dante's jaw tightened. "They will say anything to protect him."
I looked at him, my heart aching. "Why are you helping me?"
His gaze softened for a moment. "Because you are not a toy."
I stared at him. "You do not even know me."
He shook his head. "I know more than you think."
He turned to the door and looked back at me. "Do not talk to anyone until I say so."
Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small tool.
My eyes widened. "What is that?" He smiled. "A key."
He placed the tool near the handcuffs and began working on the lock. The sound of metal clicking made my stomach twist.
I watched him, unable to move. The lock clicked open, My hands fell free.
I rubbed my wrists, feeling the red marks.
Dante stood up and walked toward me."Come," he said. I hesitated. "Where?"
He looked at me with a hard expression. "Anywhere but here."
We walked down the hall. The building felt like a maze. Lights flickered, and the air smelled like cleaning products. My heart kept beating fast.
We reached a stairwell.
Dante opened the door and we went down. The stairs were cold under my feet, The sound of our shoes echoed.
Then we heard voices. A man's voice.
My father's voice, I stopped. Dante looked at me. "Stay quiet."
We moved closer to the door.
My father was talking to someone. "I told you she would cause trouble," he said. "We need to control this."
I held my breath.
I heard my mother's voice, weak and scared. "Robert, please. She is our daughter."
My father's voice turned cold. "She is a mistake." My chest hurt.
Dante grabbed my hand and pulled me away from the door.
"Do not listen," he whispered. But I could not stop myself.
I heard my father say, "We will make her pay. We will make her disappear." My blood ran cold.
I pulled away from Dante, my eyes wide. "Did you hear that?"
He nodded, his face hard. "Yes."
I stared at him. "They want to disappear me." Dante's jaw tightened. "We are not going to let that happen."
I wanted to believe him. But fear rose inside me like a wave.
We continued down the hall. We reached another door. Dante opened it and we stepped inside.
The room was dark. A single lamp lit the corner. There was a chair, a table, and a file folder on the table.
Dante walked over and opened the folder. My eyes widened as I saw my name on the cover.
"Those are my files," I whispered.
He looked at me. "They have been collecting information on you for years."
My heart beat faster. "Why?"
Dante's voice was low. "Because you are useful."
I stared at him. "Useful for what?" He closed the folder and turned to me. "For control."
My hands shook. "Control of what?" I asked.
Dante looked at me, his eyes dark and intense. "Control of your family's power."
I stared at him, confused. "My family?"
He nodded. "Your father and Rhys are not the only ones involved."
My stomach dropped. "You are saying this is bigger than just Rhys?"
Dante nodded again. "Much bigger." My mouth went dry.
The sound of footsteps echoed in the hall. I held my breath.
Someone was coming. The footsteps grew louder. Dante grabbed my hand and pulled me behind the table.
The door opened. A woman stepped inside.
She was tall, dressed in a sharp suit, and her eyes were cold. Her hair was pulled back tight. She looked like someone who did not smile often.
Her eyes landed on me.
"Aria Belmont," she said, her voice calm. "You are a lot braver than I expected."
I swallowed hard. "Who are you?"
She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes. "I am someone who knows your family very well."
Dante stepped in front of me. "Who are you?"
The woman looked at him. "That is not your concern." Dante's eyes narrowed. "She is my concern."
The woman turned back to me. "You are in trouble, Miss Belmont."
My heart pounded. "Why?"
She walked closer. "Because you have been seen with Mr. Blackwood."
I felt Dante tense.
The woman's smile widened. "And because he is not the kind of man you want to be seen with."
Dante's voice was cold. "Do not talk about her like that."
The woman raised her eyebrows. "You think you can protect her? You think you can stop what is coming?"
I looked at Dante, scared and angry. "What is coming?"
The woman leaned closer, her voice barely above a whisper. "A trial."
My stomach dropped. "A trial?" I whispered.
She nodded. "For assault. For breaking into the Granger property, For lying to the police."
My eyes widened. "I did not do any of that."
The woman's eyes flicked to Dante. "That is what you think."
Dante's face hardened. "You are lying." The woman laughed softly. "I am not the one lying, Mr. Blackwood."
She reached into her bag and pulled out a folder.
She opened it and slid a photo onto the table. My eyes widened.
It was a photo of me.
In the photo, I was standing near the Granger garden. The camera flash had caught me with my hand near Rhys's face. But I was not alone.
In the background, there was a shadowy figure.
A figure that looked like me. A figure wearing the same dress, A figure smiling.
I stared at the photo, confused and scared.
"That is not me," I whispered. The woman smiled. "It is."
My throat tightened. "How is that possible?"
The woman leaned closer. "Because someone is using you."
My heart hammered. Dante's voice was sharp. "Who is using her?"
The woman looked at him, her eyes cold. "That is not for you to know."
I felt tears burn my eyes. The woman slid the photo back into the folder.
She stood up and walked toward the door.
"Enjoy your night, Miss Belmont," she said. "You will need your strength." Then she left.
The door clicked shut. Dante turned to me, his face hard.
"What was that?" I asked. He looked at me, his eyes serious. "That was your first warning."
My heart felt like it would burst. I stared at him. "Warning for what?"
Dante's voice dropped. "For the moment you realize you are not safe anywhere." My hands shook.
I looked at the door, the empty room, the dark hall.
And then I heard a sound. A voice coming from the hallway, A voice that made my blood turn cold.
"Miss Belmont," the voice said. "We are here to take you to the station."
I turned slowly, A group of officers stood in the doorway.
But one of them was not an officer. It was Rhys.
His face was bruised, his lip split, but his eyes were wild. He looked at me and smiled.
And then he said words that made my world fall apart.
"You are coming with me."
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8.2
In her previous life, Eliana took the fall for her adopted sister Iris and lost everything, even being forced into a marriage where her work was stolen to build another man's empire.
Meanwhile, her sister's "perfect" marriage ended in tragedy-her husband turned out disabled and died young.
Reborn, the sisters swapped their fates, Iris claiming the handsome man for herself while Eliana marrying the allegedly sick billionaire.
Eliana only smiled-she knew the truth behind her marriage in the previous life. This time, she chose a different path, bringing her brilliance into the light while using marriage as a mere tool.
Yet the man she married stood firmly by her side, saying, "With me behind you, no one will dare touch you."
7.1
I woke up gasping for air, expecting the cold concrete of a prison cell, but my fingers sank into the plush leather of a luxury Lincoln. I was twenty-four again, wearing the silver silk dress from the night my life was systematically destroyed.
Beside me sat my cousin Catrina, the woman whose carefully crafted lies had orchestrated my ruin and sent me to a penitentiary for five years.
In my first life, this was the night the dominoes fell. Catrina stole my jewelry to paint me as mentally unstable, and by morning, I was stripped of my medical license and labeled a criminal. My mother’s family, the Montgomerys, stood by and watched as my father’s company was devoured by wolves, treating my existence like a "liability" that needed to be managed. I still felt the phantom tremors in my hands from prison fights and the stinging betrayal of being discarded by the people I called family.
I had lived through five years of absolute hell, a former surgeon rotting in a cell while the people who framed me toasted to their success at galas I was no longer invited to.
"Don't be selfish, Dawn," Catrina whispered, reaching for the necklace that would later be used as evidence against me. "Let the jewelry shine on someone who actually matters."
She thought I was still the fragile victim she could manipulate, but she didn't realize I had returned from the grave with the cold, clinical calculation of a fixer.
Instead of walking into her trap at the gala, I forced the car onto a dark service road and dragged a dying billionaire, Jennings Stafford, from the wreckage of a burning SUV.
He was the only man powerful enough to destroy my enemies, and as I stitched his wounds with stolen supplies, I didn't ask for a thank you.
I looked him dead in the eye and proposed a contract that would set the world on fire.
"I want a strategic marriage. You get a harmless wife with a legacy name to calm your board, and I get immunity from everyone who ever touched me."
The bill for my five years in prison had finally come due, and I was here to collect.
9.5
In the glittering shadows of New York City's elite, impoverished artist Elena Vasquez clashes with the enigmatic billionaire tycoon Alexander Hale. What begins as a chance encounter in a rain-soaked alley spirals into a whirlwind of passion, betrayal, and redemption. As Elena fights to reclaim her stolen dreams, Alexander's guarded heart unravels, forcing them to confront family secrets, corporate intrigue, and the ruthless divide between their worlds. Will their forbidden love survive the storms of jealousy, scandal, and loss, or will it shatter like the fragile art that brought them together? Shattered Canvases is a steamy billionaire romance that explores the raw edges of desire and the healing power of vulnerability.
8.9
Debora went to prison to protect the man she loved, only to end up a paroled convict living under the roof of her abusive foster parents.
When they found her positive pregnancy test from a one-night stand, they threatened to kick her out and send her straight back to a cell.
Just as they were about to report her, the stranger from that dark hotel room suddenly appeared.
He paid her foster parents one million dollars to marry her and take her away.
Debora thought she was finally safe.
But the moment they were alone, he looked at her with pure, venomous hatred.
He didn't want a wife; he wanted a prisoner.
He believed Debora was the ruthless murderer who had destroyed his life in a car crash, and he planned to make her suffocate in her own despair.
He didn't know she was just a scapegoat.
To survive and protect her baby, Debora found a job at a bridal shop, only to run into the real culprit—the man who actually drove the car and framed her.
He was now happily engaged to a wealthy heiress.
They deliberately ruined a priceless wedding gown and blamed it on her.
"Kneel on this floor and apologize, or I'm calling the police to revoke your parole!"
Why did she have to rot in hell for his sins, while the man she married wanted to destroy her?
Just as her trembling knees were about to touch the cold marble floor, the heavy glass doors were violently shoved open.
Her billionaire husband strode in like a force of nature, his eyes locked onto the wealthy couple with a terrifying, destructive rage.
8.7
For three years, I played the perfect, submissive housewife to billionaire Julian Harrison.
But right after an intimate night together, he coldly threw a divorce agreement onto the bed.
"Scarlett landed an hour ago. I need my single status restored to welcome her back."
That same night, I ended up in the emergency room and discovered I was pregnant with twins.
When Julian found out, he didn't show a shred of joy. Instead, he stormed into my hospital room, threw a blank check directly at my face, and ordered me to get rid of them.
He accused me of using the babies as a sick game to trap his assets.
Then, his ruthless lawyer kicked me out of our penthouse, confiscating the jewelry he gifted me and tossing my worn-out notebook onto the floor like garbage.
Standing in the freezing rain, my heart completely died.
I had swallowed my pride, managed his life, and cooked his meals to his exact standards for three years, only to be thrown away the second his first love returned.
But he didn't know that the notebook his lawyer discarded contained the secret formulas of Aura Beauty, a billion-dollar empire I built in the shadows.
I tore his check into pieces, blocked his number, and left in a Maybach sent by my associate.
Logging into my global CEO database, I looked at his company's fragile stock chart with a predatory smile.
The docile Mrs. Harrison died in the rain. It was time to crush his empire.
9.5
I was in a Zurich boardroom signing a contract worth fifty million dollars when I saw the photo that ended my marriage.
It was an Instagram notification from the woman I paid to scrub my toilets.
The caption read: "My little prince deserves the world."
The photo showed her son holding a custom-made porcelain doll with diamond-dust eyes. It was the only one in the world, commissioned specifically for my daughter, Lily.
I cancelled the deal and flew home immediately.
When I arrived at my daughter's school, I found the housekeeper wearing my vintage Chanel coat and driving my car.
My husband, Austyn, didn't run to greet me. He ran past our crying daughter to comfort the housekeeper's son.
"Don't you dare touch my son!" he screamed at me, protecting the boy while our daughter scraped her knees on the pavement.
He looked at me with pure hate, confident that he could take half my assets in a divorce.
He forgot that I wasn't just a wife. I was the Duchess of the Miller Syndicate, the most powerful crime family in New York.
I pulled out my phone and froze every account he had.
"You want a divorce?" I asked, signaling my security team to step forward.
"Take off the suit, Austyn. I paid for it."
"You are leaving this marriage exactly how you entered it. With nothing."