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 7
Deep down, Valerie felt nothing but fear; if she let Rovano touch her again, she was afraid the wound on her leg would be made even worse.
"Please, let me clean myself."
Rovano looked at her intently; the man seemed as though he wanted to speak again, yet for some reason he remained silent. The bathroom floor felt colder than before; with every step, it sounded like a threat to Valerie, and the man simply left without saying another word.
Rovano gave Valerie a light blue knee-length dress with black flats.
She hadn't bathed properly because the wound on her thigh was still very fresh; the splashes of water hitting it made her cry uncontrollably.
The warm water flowing over every part of her body soothed her troubled soul; the faint, metallic scent of blood was still detectable, though faintly. The girl stared fixedly at the pool of water in the bath, which was beginning to recede and was still red but no longer dark.
The girl stepped out of the bath, dried herself off and immediately put on the clothes Rovano had given her.
Once she was done, she looked in the mirror; her reflection looked far better than before. Valerie took a deep breath, trying to calm herself and give her heart a little encouragement; she could get through this, she could find a way out.
Valerie stepped out of the bathroom; she peeked in cautiously and saw that Rovano wasn't in the room. Once she was fully inside, Valerie's gaze fell upon the blood on the mattress-still fresh and not yet completely dry. It was her blood.
The red colour meant the wound was quite deep.
The girl limped towards it, every step she took feeling incredibly heavy, as if a knife were still piercing her thigh, which was wrapped in a makeshift bandage.
Valerie stood beside the bed; the wind blew fiercely through the open balcony door, lashing against her frail body.
Valerie lifted her skirt slightly, feeling the bandage wrapped around her thigh; the blood had seeped through it, just a little, and Valerie could not bear the pain. She did not realise that Rovano was peering at her from behind the bedroom door, watching her every movement.
With every breath, the man observed the expression of pain on Valerie's face, as if finding a small comfort in it.
The man was smartly dressed in a shirt matching the colour of Valerie's dress; he had rolled up the sleeves to his elbows. Black jeans and dark brown Doc Martens made Rovano look even taller.
Valerie sighed again; she then closed her eyes for a moment, her face contorted as if on the verge of tears, as she cast off all her pain.
A pain she had never felt in her entire life.
The girl then exhaled quite loudly and audibly, as if she had just cast off her misfortune.
Rovano cursed in frustration; this girl was acting up too much and wasting a lot of time. She was far too dramatic.
"Are you going to wail about it until you die?" Rovano dragged Valerie out of there, "Wasting time."
They left the villa and Valerie paused for a moment as Rovano guided her towards the gate; she was struggling to walk, her steps growing increasingly unsteady.
It had been a long time since Valerie had seen the street; there were a few people passing by up ahead, and the girl hesitated slightly to step out of the gate, especially as her leg was still throbbing.
Rovano turned and gave her a sharp look. Valerie gazed at him sadly.
"Please, don't drag me along. Can't we just walk more slowly?"
Hearing Valerie's words, Rovano almost burst out laughing. "You once ran so enthusiastically that you bumped into me; now you're complaining just from walking like this?"
Valerie's hand was still clasped by Rovano; the girl then gripped Rovano's arm with her other hand.
"M-my leg..." Valerie pulled her skirt up slightly to show Rovano the bandage on her thigh.
The bandage had been clean when Valerie finished getting dressed, but she could feel that the blood hadn't stopped flowing. The bandage was now completely red, and blood was seeping through it.
"T-the blood's coming out again..." Valerie pulled her skirt back down to its original position.
Rovano said nothing; he simply pulled Valerie along again. They crossed the street, walking at a moderate pace towards a small clinic at the end of the road.
Valerie couldn't stop admiring every step she took and the breathtaking views of Stockholm.
She had seen cities and countries across Europe online, read reviews and hoped that one day she might come here.
Now her dream had truly come true, even though her foot was injured and she was being held captive by a handsome, cold, psychopathic man-Evil, Sensual, constantly belittling her, touching her body without permission and claiming ownership over her.
What sort of man was he? Valerie felt that Rovano was the worst man in the world. Valerie struggled to find the right words to describe Rovano.
So this is what it feels like to enter a clinic? Valerie had watched dramas a few times, with scenes set in hospital wards or simply entering a clinic. But here, it turned out not to be as bustling as in the dramas.
The distinctive scent of medicine wafted from every room, but here it felt warm to Valerie-warm in the sense of the atmosphere. It wasn't as oppressive as when she was alone in the room with Rovano.
"Hello, Mr Morvane, it's been a while. Have you made an appointment with Dr John?" A nurse standing at the reception desk greeted Rovano; she then turned to Valerie, looking the girl up and down before turning back to Rovano.
Valerie turned and smiled at the woman, whilst Rovano merely stared at her blankly.
"It's an emergency; I need someone to tend to a wound," Rovano grabbed the girl's arm and gave her a slight shove towards the nurse, as if handing Valerie over for free.
Valerie looked at him with a mixture of sadness and annoyance; did he really have to be so rough that she could feel her thigh throbbing again?
Valerie was lying on the ward bed; Rovano sat in a chair not far from her, playing with his mobile phone.
The nurse with her seemed to speak the same language. She didn't use a foreign language when speaking; Valerie could understand her easily.
The nurse lifted Valerie's skirt slightly and was startled to see that the blood seeping through the bandage was already substantial; she looked at Valerie in confusion, the equipment to treat Valerie had been prepared.
Rovano watched them, but the nurse immediately closed the curtain completely, causing Rovano to snort in annoyance.
Why wasn't Rovano allowed to see Valerie in pain? The man cursed in frustration; he was still eager to see the girl suffer.
"What is this wound? It's very serious. Did you treat this yourself?" the nurse asked as she unwrapped Valerie's bandage.
The girl was very stoic; she didn't cry, perhaps because she felt she'd already shed enough tears since earlier.
"Mr Rovano treated my wound because..." Valerie's words trailed off as the nurse finished unwrapping the bandage, cleaned the blood, and then gasped in shock once more.
He found it really hard to close his jaw after seeing Rovano's name carved into Valerie's smooth thigh.
"...He did it," Valerie continued, then turned her face away from the nurse's gaze.
The nurse nodded in understanding and quickly finished her work. After that, she prescribed some medication for Valerie to take; the nurse had already informed the doctor of the examination results.
The doctor appeared to be talking to Rovano, and then he handed the medication for Valerie to Rovano as well.
"I don't know why Mr Morvane did that to you, but I hope you'll be all right. I never imagined he was the sort of man... Like that." The nurse cast a sympathetic glance at Valerie.
"Please help me, not with this wound but help me escape from that man. He's kidnapping me! I'm the daughter of the-."
"Valerie!" Rovano's voice rang out clearly from behind the curtain; the call cut short Valerie's plea for help.
The curtain swung open immediately and Valerie tried to act as if she hadn't said anything at all.
The nurse left, leaving the two of them alone.
Rovano approached Valerie and whispered, "Don't mess with me, Valerie. If you try to run away, I won't hesitate to torture you right then and there."
Valerie swallowed hard; she was so terrified of Rovano's cruel side that she could only obey and abandon her plan once more.
Rovano immediately pulled her out of the clinic.
"S-sir, please be gentle, I'm afraid the bleeding will start again," Valerie whimpered.
"Shut up," snapped Rovano without looking at her.
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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?