My Psycho Billionaire
Valerie Ashford, a girl who had just turned twenty-one, was introduced by her father to his business associates at a grand party, where she met a frightening, cold-blooded man.
That man was none other than her father's business partner, the CEO of a major corporation. He was taken with Valerie and had wanted her from the moment he first laid eyes on her.
For Rovano Morvane, whatever he desired was absolute and he had to have it, even by the worst means possible.
That night Valerie vanished without a trace and Rovano became the prime suspect, yet the Ashford family could not prove their allegations.
"P-please, I don't want to die, sir..." Valerie whispered so softly that Rovano had to bend down even lower.
"Didn't you just say you didn't care whether you were kidnapped or not? So shut your mouth." Rovano ordered.
Cold, Valerie felt the other side of the folding knife pressed against her cheek.
Rovano was going to mark Valerie.
It felt like something was missing if Rovano didn't take out his psychopathic urges on someone.
And this time, for the first time, he wanted a girl: Valerie Ashford.
Would Valerie's life end here?
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Chapter 6
"It... it hurts... It stings..." Valerie's faint voice could be heard again.
Rovano was still cleaning the remaining blood from every part of the girl's body. Then, once he was done, he leaned in close to Valerie's face, kissed her thin lips, and wiped the tears from her cheeks.
"Be quiet," he said once more before stepping back, "you must learn to endure it, for this will become a regular occurrence for you in the future."
Valerie shuddered in horror; how could that man remain so impassive and calm? Valerie felt her wounds were excruciatingly painful and stinging, especially if anything touched them.
Rovano brought a towel, warm water and a first-aid kit. He cleaned Valerie's wounds quickly and immediately bandaged them so they would dry fast, allowing him to see the carving without blood.
Usually he would call a doctor, but this time the victim wasn't a man, nor was she a girl he could simply discard after bringing her here. Rovano felt a flicker of emotion taking hold of him; he wanted Valerie to be his, yet with an unfamiliar feeling.
Once finished, Rovano helped Valerie sit up and slowly stand. Valerie's sense of shame had vanished the moment Rovano stripped her; all she felt now was pain.
"Drink this, painkiller," he ordered Valerie.
Rovano gave her a painkiller at double the dose; at least that would keep Valerie quiet for a while, though the girl herself wasn't sure if the medicine would actually ease her pain.
The bed was in disarray and covered in blood; Rovano then dragged Valerie into the bathroom after she had taken the medicine he'd given her. The girl limped along as Rovano dragged her.
"Wash your face, tidy your hair. Change out of everything you're wearing into what I've prepared," Rovano ordered firmly.
Valerie remained silent, staring at the large mirror before her. She was a mess; her whole body was a shambles.
"Why?" Valerie whispered, breaking down into tears once more.
Rovano merely raised an eyebrow. Valerie now turned to him with a wounded look in her eyes.
"Why are you doing this to me?" Valerie asked again.
"You are my prey. My target. You are mine forever. That wound is a mark of my ownership," replied Rovano, "hurry, we're leaving here soon."
"Why me..." Valerie whispered again, as if unsatisfied with Rovano's answer.
The man sighed again; he approached Valerie once more until she stepped back and her shoulder touched the bathroom wall. Rovano gently cupped Valerie's cheek; their eyes locked.
"Because you are meant for me. You should be grateful I didn't kill you," hissed Rovano.
His gaze dropped to the two mounds of Valerie's breasts, which were not as small as they appeared beneath her clothes. They seemed quite proportionate and just right for him to hold?
"I think I need to mark you again."
Rovano's head dropped; he bit and sucked the top of Valerie's right breast rather hard, and the girl groaned as she felt the sting and pain again. Before Valerie could resist, the man quickly pulled away once he felt it was enough.
"Ahh!!" Valerie groaned, clutching her breast which felt as if it had been stung.
"I can give you anything, even the world itself. You just need to obey," said Rovano with an even more satisfied expression; the man licked the top of his lip and then grinned at Valerie again.
"I'm not your slave!" Valerie's voice finally came out more firmly.
At the very least, she managed to muster the strength to retort to Rovano, even if only with words; her legs were throbbing, her chest ached, and her spirit had been utterly shattered by that man.
'BUGH!
Valerie was utterly shocked; Rovano had just punched the wall, injuring his hand, fresh blood flowing from the man's right hand.
He glared at Valerie fiercely, his emotions rising to his head and boiling over the moment he heard Valerie say the word 'slave'.
That word was too sensitive and carried a terrible connotation. He hated it; Valerie was not his slave.
"Who said you're a slave? You're mine! Valerie, YOU'RE M-I-N-E, YOU'RE NOT A SLAVE!"
Rovano shouted loudly right in front of Valerie's face, so the girl could only turn her face away and close her eyes, her body trembling with fear once more.
Rovano grabbed her chin, forcing her face to look at him. Then he gripped her cheek.
"Open your eyes!" Rovano snapped again, and Valerie flinched once more.
"Open your eyes and look at me, Valerie!"
Her lips trembled as she held back her tears; slowly she opened her eyes and Rovano was staring at her intently, tears beginning to well up again, filling her green eyes.
"You are mine, forever."
Valerie's mouth opened; she wanted to speak but her voice suddenly failed her and she could only sob.
Rovano remained like that, staring intently at her whilst Valerie continued to sob, her tears flowing ever more freely.
She could smell blood, though she wasn't sure whether it was from the cut on her leg or from the wound on Rovano's hand.
The grip on Valerie's cheek began to loosen; she could feel a dull ache in her cheek once the grip had fully released, and she could only look down afterwards, staring at the tiles-watching her tears fall to the floor.
Her body jolted again as Rovano stroked the top of her head; this man seemed to have a split personality. Now he was stroking the top of Valerie's head with tenderness.
He touched her chin again, making the girl look up at him.
"Stop crying and get ready, Valerie."
The man then left; the bathroom door slammed shut so hard that Valerie was startled.
Finally, she could cry her heart out in there, pouring out all her sorrow until she was satisfied. Valerie walked towards the mirror; she stared at her pitiful reflection before her.
It had all happened so quickly, and Valerie had no choice but to obey Rovano's orders because she didn't want to die in vain at the hands of that man.
Besides, the girl had no one now; she was alone here, without a mobile phone, without anyone she knew, as she had always been confined to the mansion.
In a situation like this, who could she possibly ask for help? Valerie wasn't even very good at speaking foreign languages.
Valerie wondered what the situation was like at her family's mansion now that she was gone.
Was Nolan looking for her? Was her grandmother-Silvanna-crying for her? What about her stepmother, Natasha? She missed her terribly; Natasha had looked after her since she was a baby, even though the girl wasn't her biological daughter.
And what was the state of her grandfather-Jaden? Her head was throbbing again; Valerie couldn't stop thinking about her family.
The wound on her leg began to throb once more, but she had to clean herself-she was sticky with sweat, tears and traces of blood that smelled of iron.
Click
The bathroom door swung open again; Rovano came in carrying a towel and hung it up. Valerie, who was turning on the hot water in the shower, was startled, whilst Rovano stared at her impassively.
He looked Valerie up and down; the girl, who was not wearing any clothes and was only in her underwear, looked pitiful.
The bloodstains on the back of her body bore silent witness to the wounds she had sustained.
Rovano sighed; he thought hard, his heart suddenly softening at the sight of Valerie's condition, even though it was his own doing.
The man stepped closer, but Valerie trembled instantly; she began to back away, retreating until finally Rovano stopped in his tracks, then wondered again why the girl was moving away from him.
"I'll help you clean yourself up," said Rovano innocently.
The girl's green eyes widened in surprise; Rovano was driving her nearly mad with every move that was completely beyond her comprehension.
"No!" Valerie cried out softly, "S-sir, you don't need to do that, I can-I can manage on my own."
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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.
8.2
Karmen lived suffocating under a tight chest binder and a grotesque silicone scar, forced to disguise herself as her degenerate twin brother, Kem. Her only job was to maintain a fake corporate engagement with the ruthless billionaire Earl Calderon.
But her abusive father suddenly escalated his demands. He ordered her to steal Earl's revolutionary AI patents, threatening to cut off her mother's life-saving medical trust and abandon the real Kem in a locked Swiss psych ward if she failed.
The task was a death sentence. Earl absolutely despised "Kem." He treated her like a repulsive parasite, constantly threatening to break her neck. When he accidentally caught her without her wig, he mistook her for a deranged cross-dresser, forcing her to glue the dirty fake scar back onto her raw, inflamed face in sheer disgust. At home, her father hurled glass ashtrays at her, violently yanking her collar.
"Do whatever you have to do in that bedroom, Kem. I don't care how disgusting it is. Just get the signature."
Trapped between a fiancé who loathed her very existence and a father ready to sacrifice their family for greed, Karmen endured the agonizing physical pain of her disguise. She was exhausted, terrified, and running out of time as her brother's life hung by a thread.
But they all underestimated her. When the Calderon matriarch forced Earl to link his ultra-secure private phone with "Kem" to fake their romance, she unwittingly handed over the master key. Karmen wasn't just a helpless victim; she was the elite hacker Nyx, and she was going to tear their empire apart from the inside.
9.5
As a highborn succubus, I somehow managed to starve myself to death-thanks to my obsessive cleanliness and ridiculously picky appetite.
When I opened my eyes again, I had transmigrated into Vivian Hartwell-the long-lost "real" daughter with a tragically cursed fate.
I had barely been taken back into the Hartwell family before they forced me to attend a so-called "death matchmaking" event in Kingsford-on behalf of Natalie Hartwell, the fake heiress-to meet Damian Blackwood, the infamous "living reaper."
Rumor had it Damian was brutal and bloodthirsty-every woman who'd ever been involved with him either ended up dead or driven insane.
At the event, over a hundred socialites were trembling on their knees, silently praying they wouldn't be the one chosen.
Just as Damian let out a cold smirk and reached to pick his unlucky victim, I took a deep breath from the back of the crowd.
The scent emanating from him was a rare, potent masculine essence-something encountered perhaps once in ten millennia.
For a painfully picky succubus like me, this was nothing short of salvation.
I kicked aside the girl blocking my way, my eyes practically glowing as I threw both hands up. "Pick me! Hurry, pick me!"
8.2
One night was supposed to be her escape. After catching her ex-boyfriend in the arms of her treacherous stepsister on her twenty-first birthday, Valerie sought the only mercy she could find: the numbing sting of alcohol. But the morning brought no peace-only a shattered spirit, a body marked by a stranger, and a memory wiped clean against her will.
Months later, Valerie is a woman reborn from the wreckage, landing a high-paying role at the prestigious Noir Group. But the dream quickly shifts into a polished nightmare. Her new boss is Ellan Noir-a ruthless CEO whose name commands the city and whose eyes hold an unmistakable, familiar darkness.
When a mistake in the executive lift threatens her career, Ellan offers a devil's bargain: a contract of total submission. To save her best friend Nora's failing heart, Valerie must become his private property, bound to his beck and call 24/7. As office politics bleed into a dangerous game of obsession, Valerie realizes the man who rules her career is the same shadow who owns her past.
Dragged into his world of chaos, Valerie discovers a truth that changes everything She decides to collide with Ellan's business rival y get revenge until she realises she is carrying his child. As she struggles to survive the predators in the Noir family, Ellan fights for his life in a hospital bed. With a baby's life hanging in the balance after a lethal post-birth injection, Valerie must decide if she can save the man who broke her-or if their twisted fate will end in tragedy.
8.6
Eleanor Sinclair always knew her stepmother and stepsister were leeches, but she never expected their betrayal to reach into her private study.
In the dead of night, she caught the family's trusted nanny of twelve years photographing confidential trust documents. The mastermind paying her off was Lillian, Eleanor's stepmother, who had been secretly embezzling estate funds and bribing tutors to deliberately ruin the academic future of Eleanor's younger brother, the only legitimate heir.
Emboldened by their deceit, the parasites grew arrogant. Her stepsister, Isabelle, deliberately flaunted her secret affair with Eleanor’s billionaire fiancé, sobbing fake tears while waiting for Eleanor to suffer a humiliating nervous breakdown.
When the tension finally peaked, Lillian played the victim so perfectly that Eleanor's own father, a powerful U.S. Senator, stormed into the room with a raised hand, ready to strike his own daughter.
"You will apologize to your stepsister immediately! I will not have this family harmony destroyed by your petty jealousy!"
They actually expected her to be a weeping, heartbroken girl. They thought cheap hotel affairs and stolen pennies could outsmart the true Sinclair bloodline. Did they really believe a few fake tears and a weak-willed father could strip her of her empire?
Eleanor didn't feel anger; she felt the cold, detached fascination of a biologist observing doomed insects. She calmly pulled out the forensic audits, locked down the estate's exits, and prepared her stepmother's psychiatric commitment papers. The merciless purge of her family had officially begun.
8.8
Sold for scraps.Saved by a monster. Destined to rule them all.
Faith is a "Dud", a wolfless orphan living in the shadows of the trenches. Treated as a servant by her own family, she hides a mind more brilliant than any Alpha's instinct. But in the process of winning a life-changing scholarship, she is betrayed. Drugged and sold to traffickers by her own aunt, Faith thought her life was over -until she falls from a third-story window and lands on the hood of a car that belongs to the most dangerous man in the country.
Killian Nightshade. Billionaire. Alpha of the Blackwood Pack. A man who rules with ice in his veins and power in his hands.
Killian doesn't do favors. He makes investments. He claims Faith as his "Personal Shadow" to work off the debt of his ruined car. But as he forces her into the shark-infested waters of the North Elite Academy, he finds himself breaking his own rule: Never get attached to the help.
While Faith battles ruthless bullies and the predatory interest of Killian's rival, Silas, a twenty-year-old secret begins to stir in her blood. She isn't just a Dud. She is a legend. And when the girl who was sold for scraps finally shifts, the entire werewolf world will have to decide: Will they bow to their new Queen, or be burned by her fire?