Ninety Days To Break Your Heart
I thought I was living the dream as the wife of a billionaire, until my husband came home at 2 A.M. reeking of expensive Scotch and "Midnight Rose"—the signature perfume of his ex-lover, Lucinda. While I spent my nights alone in the nursery with our sick twins, William was out in the city, making it clear to everyone that our marriage was nothing more than a cold, calculated business merger.
When I finally confronted him with the evidence of his infidelity, he didn’t offer an apology. He simply looked at me with disgust and told me I was a "liability" who should stay home and play the part of the perfect mother while he lived his real life with someone else.
The humiliation reached its peak at the hospital when his grandfather suffered a massive heart attack. William showed up with Lucinda on his arm, comforting her in front of the entire Sterling clan while his mother publicly mocked me for being a useless gold-digger. Even after William tried to force himself on me in a drunken rage the night before, he had the audacity to treat his mistress like the grieving wife while I was pushed into the shadows.
I felt something inside me finally snap. The man I loved had turned into a monster who saw me as an acquisition rather than a human being. I was ready to sign the divorce papers and disappear with nothing but my pride, just to escape the suffocating weight of his indifference.
But then, the dying patriarch called me to his bedside and handed me a sword: five percent of the company’s voting shares and a three-month ultimatum. I’m not running away anymore. I’ve decided to stay for ninety days, but not to save a dead marriage. I’m staying to become the one thing William Sterling never saw coming—his most dangerous nightmare.
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Chapter 3
He brought the smell of rain and stale whiskey with him. He kicked off his shoes, his movements loose, uncoordinated. He saw Mia sitting in the armchair, the blue folder on the coffee table between them.
"Waiting up for me?" He slurred slightly, walking to the bar cart. "How devoted."
"Sign this," Mia said.
William paused, decanter in hand. He looked at the folder, then at her. He smirked. "What now? A request for a vacation home? A pony for the twins?"
He walked over, picked up the folder, and flipped it open.
His eyes scanned the first page. The smirk vanished. His face went slack, then hardened into a mask of fury.
"Divorce?" He looked at her, his eyes dark and dangerous. "Is this a joke?"
"I'm serious, William." Mia stood her ground, though her knees were shaking. "No alimony. No fight for the shares. Just the children and my freedom."
"No money?" He threw the folder onto the table. It slid across the surface and fell to the floor. "You think you can play hard to get? You think threatening to leave will make me up the offer?"
He stepped closer. He towered over her, sucking the air out of the room.
"I don't want your money," Mia said quietly. "I want out."
"You don't get to walk away!" William roared. He grabbed her upper arm, his fingers digging into her flesh. "You trapped me! You used those kids to get into this family, and now you think you can just take them and leave?"
"I am taking them because you are unfit to be a father!"
The air in the room seemed to snap.
William's eyes went black. "Unfit?"
He yanked her toward him. The smell of alcohol was overpowering. "I'll show you who's in control here."
He crushed his mouth against hers. It wasn't a kiss. It was an assault. A punishment. His teeth scraped against her lip, harsh and demanding.
Mia struggled, pushing against his chest. "William, stop!"
He didn't stop. He backed her into the sofa, his weight pinning her down. The lamp on the side table crashed to the floor, plunging them into semi-darkness.
"You're my wife," he growled against her neck, his hand tearing at the collar of her blouse. Buttons popped, scattering onto the floor like hail. "Fulfill your duty."
Mia froze.
The sheer degradation of it washed over her like ice water. He wasn't making love to her. He was marking his territory. He was hating her with his body.
But as his hand gripped her shoulder, he looked down. He saw the utter lack of resistance. He saw her eyes-wide, vacant, staring past him at the ceiling as if she were already gone.
His movement faltered. The drunken rage that had been driving him suddenly hit a wall of cold reality.
She stopped fighting. Her arms fell to her sides. She turned her head to the side, staring at the rain lashing against the glass. She went somewhere else. Somewhere far away where she couldn't feel his hands, couldn't smell the whiskey, couldn't feel her heart breaking into a million irreparable pieces.
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7.0
Erika was a disgraced ex-wife, struggling to survive in a freezing Brooklyn slum to raise her five-year-old son.
But her billionaire ex-husband, Doyle Morgan, wasn't done destroying her. He orchestrated a cruel trap, forcing her to deliver a custom sapphire brooch to his new mistress, just to watch her get humiliated and severely burned by scalding coffee.
When Erika fought back and refused to beg, Doyle's punishment was swift. He demoted her to scrubbing executive toilets with raw, bleeding hands. Starved, exhausted, and pushed to the absolute brink of organ failure, she finally collapsed lifelessly in front of him in Central Park.
For five years, she had endured his relentless torment and the world's mockery just to keep her child safe. Doyle despised her, convinced her son was the filthy proof of her cheating with another man.
He didn't know the boy was actually the child of his deceased older brother, conceived in a dark, drugged hotel room. Why couldn't he just leave them alone to suffer in peace?
But when Erika woke up in the VIP hospital ward, the nightmare took a terrifying turn. Doyle pinned her weak wrists to the mattress, his eyes burning with a dark, possessive obsession. He had figured out the truth about the boy's bloodline.
"He's a Morgan. He has my family's blood in his veins, and I will not allow my nephew to be raised in a slum. If you can't care for him, I will. From this moment on, you and that boy belong to me. And you are never leaving my sight again."
7.5
To survive a lethal genetic breakdown, Holden, a legendary mercenary known as "Ghost," was forced into an arranged marriage with the wealthy heiress Julia Ramsey.
But the moment he stepped into the lavish estate wearing an oil-stained jacket, he was treated like absolute garbage.
Julia accused him of being a perverted stalker, pulling a gun on him and demanding he be thrown out. Even after Holden used a forbidden kinetic strike to save her grandfather from a fatal heart attack, the family still looked at him with pure disgust. Julia confined him to a cramped guest room, warning him to stay out of her life. To make matters worse, his other estranged fiancée, an elite military commander, barged into the penthouse just to throw an annulment in his face.
"You are a pathetic, bottom-feeding parasite! You have no ambition. You hide in this woman's apartment like a stray dog. You are entirely beneath me."
She mocked him in front of Julia, completely blind to the fact that Holden had just effortlessly incapacitated her Tier-1 operative with a single strike. They all thought he was just a greedy, low-class thug clinging to their wealth. They had no idea they were mocking an apex predator who commanded the city's underground and hunted mutant monsters for sport.
When Julia forced him to attend a high-society yacht party as part of a trap to publicly humiliate him, Holden just smirked and took a sip of his cheap beer.
He was more than happy to play along, already calculating exactly how he was going to tear their arrogant little world apart.
7.5
Daisy spent her birthday cooking a perfect dinner, waiting in their massive penthouse for her billionaire husband, Emmett.
Instead of coming home, a breaking news alert flashed on her screen: Emmett was at the hospital, protectively shielding his old flame, Eryn. When Daisy rushed to the VIP ward, Emmett physically blocked her to comfort a crying Eryn, completely forgetting it was his wife's birthday.
Heartbroken, Daisy demanded a divorce and fled. In response, Emmett ruthlessly froze all her bank accounts and trust funds, leaving her penniless in the freezing Manhattan rain. When she cornered him with divorce papers at a public funeral, a heavy metal cart slammed into her, tearing her calf wide open. Bleeding onto the marble floor, she begged him to sign. Instead, Emmett violently ripped the bloody papers to shreds.
"Unless I am dead, you are my wife," he snarled, locking her inside a room.
Daisy risked her life to escape through a window, dragging her bleeding leg to a dingy motel. But the real nightmare began when Eryn called. The tragic car crash that killed Daisy's adoptive parents ten years ago wasn't an accident—the brake lines were cut. And Emmett, the man she loved, had been using his vast corporate empire to protect the murderers all along.
Why did Emmett bury the police report? What was the deadly secret behind her true identity and the antique "Venus" necklace? Staring at her blood-stained hands in the cracked mirror, the terrified wife died. Daisy grabbed her coat and limped out into the dark, heading straight for the Navy Yard to burn his empire to the ground.
8.0
She's working tirelessly to support her family, unaware that the man she's serving as an assistant is the CEO she once saved from a minor accident. Professional boundaries blur, tension ignites, and forbidden attraction threatens everything. Can love survive when secrets are revealed, or will ambition and pride destroy them both?
8.1
The Billionaire crazy wife
( He is rude,she is extremely crazy)
When two hearts melt.......
Blurb
"Do you, Miss Daisy white, take Mr. Cassian Blackwood as your lawfully wedded husband till death do you part?" the priest asked, his voice shaking slightly as he glanced between the couple.
Daisy -fiery, barefoot, and absolutely done-glared at the man beside her like he was a cockroach in a Gucci suit. If eyes could kill, Cassian would be a lifeless corpse in Armani.
The priest hesitated to repeat the question, but dasiy beat him to it.
"No, I don't."
Gasps echoed around the grand cathedral. Her father choked on his wine.
"As a matter of fact," she continued, flipping her curls like it was a runway, "I don't even know this overgrown control freak. But clearly, I don't have the right to decide my own life."
She turned to the priest, eyes wide with faux innocence.
"And let's be honest, you're gonna pronounce us married anyway. So skip the drama. My heels hurt, and I need a drink."
With that, she kicked off her designer stilettos and let out a deep, satisfied breath, smiling like a queen at the crowd-completely ignoring the icy daggers Cassian was shooting her way.
"Mr. Cassian Blackwood, do y-"
"Yes."
Cassian's cold voice sliced through the air like a knife. The priest flinched.
"I now... pr-pronounce you husband... and w-wife," he stuttered.
Because honestly? The bride was unhinged. The groom looked like he'd kill someone with a pen.
Meet Daisy White-she's a living goddess, and a sexy one at that. From her height and sexy figure to her long legs and glowing skin, she's perfection in all the right places. Her breasts are stunning, and her round, irresistible butt turns heads wherever she goes. Men simply can't resist her beauty. Her mother passed away when she was young. She lived with her aunt in Australia before moving back to New York.
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Cassian Blackwood is the hottest,most popular and most searched for CEO/Billionaire world wide currently,He's been holding that title for years and still his assets keeps getting higher. Cassian Blackwood-ruthless billionaire, CEO of Blackwood Corp., and the nightmare of every boardroom-was used to getting what he wanted.
But marrying dasiy wasn't just about family pressure-it was business..
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That his new wife would be the living definition of chaos.
Loud. Unfiltered. Wild. Definitely not the obedient little bride he thought he was getting.
Now?
The battlefield isn't in the office.
It's in the penthouse.
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Wanna see how this fire-and-ice marriage explodes?
What happens when feelings sneak into the war zone?
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7.7
The Billionaire's $500,000 Baby
"Sign the contract. Give me an heir. Then, disappear."
Liora Hayes has sixty minutes.
$500,000 or her mother dies.
No money. No hope. No way out.
Then Darian Volkov walks in.
The ruthless "Ice King" of Luminaire Corp doesn't want her heart. He wants an heir.
The deal is simple:
1. Carry his child.
2. Get the money.
3. Never return.
But the Volkov mansion is a gilded cage. Inside, Liora finds a lethal secret: Darian didn't choose her by chance. He is the son of the man who destroyed her father.
Now, she is carrying the baby of her greatest enemy.
The debt was paid in blood. The contract was signed in lies.
What happens when the Ice King refuses to let his "asset" go?