Nowhere To Run From The Cold-Hearted CEO's Obsession
Aurora didn't cry when Grayson dumped her; she vanished after his line, "Wherever I am, you can't show up."
Three years on, she returned as the city's star anchor; he watched nightly, haunted.
Five years on, free of his family's leash, he staged a dinner to win her back. She met him like a stranger and refused.
Learning she was engaged to his nephew, he dropped restraint. By any means, he would reclaim her.
As she walked away, his voice shook. "Until I die, I won't let go."
In college she'd chased him, not knowing he was a Rockefeller-until his father's snub proved the gulf she'd never cross.
Whether it was five years ago or now, they were never meant to be, she thought.
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Chapter 7
"I just..." Aurora hesitated, fishing for a believable excuse.
Grayson interjected smoothly, "The faucet was acting up, so I gave Miss Flynn a hand fixing it."
With that, Grayson breezed past Aurora, heading straight for the dining room.
Ryan narrowed his eyes, watching Grayson's retreating figure, a nagging feeling tugging at his gut. Since when did his usually standoffish uncle turn into Mr. Fix-It? His gaze flicked to Aurora, who flashed him a soft smile.
Ryan leaned in, voice low. "Rora, my mom's probably gonna urge us to get married at dinner. Could you do me a solid and play along? Just agree to it verbally. We will go our separate ways after, no strings attached."
Worried she might balk, he grabbed her hand and pleaded, "Please, I'm begging you."
Aurora had no reason to say no. They'd made a pact to cover for each other from the start. "Alright," she said.
Side by side, they strolled into the dining room.
Veronica beamed at Aurora, handing her a sleek gift box. "Aurora, this is for you."
Inside sparkled a diamond necklace.
"It's too much, I can't—" Aurora started to protest.
"Rora, it's a gift. Just accept it," Ryan interjected, deftly fastening the necklace around her neck.
The cold metal against Aurora's skin matched the frosty stare Grayson shot at it from across the table. His jaw tightened, fingers strangling his wine glass.
"Aurora, you and Ryan have been together for nearly a year. It's time to pick a date," Veronica said, her voice brimming with excitement. "When will your parents be available? Let's meet up and talk about wedding plans."
"They..." Aurora began, but her words were swallowed by a sharp crash.
Grayson's wine glass had shattered in his grip, dark red wine mixing with blood trickling down his hand.
Veronica rushed to Grayson's side, tending to his wound. "My fault entirely! I should've tossed that cracked glass ages ago."
Grayson brushed it off. "It's nothing, just a small cut."
Once his hand was patched up, dinner wound down, so the marriage talk fizzled out.
Veronica made a point of telling Ryan to see Aurora home safely.
Ryan, his breath heavy with wine, nodded.
"I'll send her home," Grayson said, cool as ever. "You've all had a few. It's not safe to drive."
"Aurora's place is nowhere near the Rockefellers'. Isn't that a hassle?" Veronica asked.
"I live in Skyline Lofts. It's on the way," Grayson replied.
Skyline Lofts, Odonrith's priciest river-view residence, was just a street away from Aurora's modest apartment—though the price tags were worlds apart.
Veronica blinked, caught off guard. She hadn't revealed Aurora's address, so how did Grayson know?
Ryan, buzzing with enthusiasm, tugged Aurora into the backseat of Grayson's car and then settled in beside her.
Grayson paused, his eyes cold as he slid into the passenger seat. In the rearview mirror, his gaze locked onto the diamond necklace glinting at Aurora's throat.
The car, spacious as it was, felt suffocating with unspoken tension.
When the sleek luxury car pulled up under Aurora's building, Ryan ran his hand over the leather seat, grinning like a kid in a candy store. "Grayson, when I hold the wedding, can I borrow this car for the day?"
Grayson's face was stone, no answer forthcoming.
Ryan laughed. "I swear I won't ding it." Turning to Aurora with a playful wink, he added, "Rora, what do you think? Rolling off in this car post-wedding would be epic, right?"
Aurora, guessing Ryan meant a wedding with someone else, gave a small nod.
Grayson's expression clouded over, her easy agreement twisting something inside him. He spoke with a detached tone. "If you like it, I'll get you a new one as a wedding gift."
Ryan's eyes lit up, practically bouncing in his seat. "Grayson, you're the best! Not nearly as icy as Mom makes you out to be."
"Is that so?" Grayson asked.
"Absolutely, you're awesome," Ryan said, flashing a grin at Aurora, his excitement spilling over.
Aurora stayed quiet.
Grayson, trying to play it cool, gazed at Aurora through the rearview mirror. "Miss Flynn, what's your take?"
Catching his gaze, Aurora replied politely, "Mr. Rockefeller, you're a good man."
It was a courteous compliment, nothing more.
Grayson's eyes lingered on her reflection in the mirror, vexed by her response.
Ryan hopped out, chivalrously opening Aurora's door, his arm shielding her head from the frame. "My lady, your chariot awaits."
Aurora chuckled at his theatrics. "Thanks."
Their easy banter flowed naturally, unforced. They didn't notice Grayson in the passenger seat, his face like a storm cloud.
From the car, Grayson watched Aurora's warm smile, memories of her tenderness toward him years ago flooding back, stirring a restless ache. Five years ago, she'd smiled at him with that same softness. Now, she treated him like a stranger.
Ryan, clueless to the undercurrent, waved at Grayson. "Thanks for the ride, Grayson. Good night. I'll walk Rora up."
Aurora said politely, "Thank you, Mr. Rockefeller."
"You're welcome," Grayson replied, his face hard as he told the driver to go.
Ryan watched the sleek Maybach pull away, grinning. "My uncle's the best guy on the planet."
Aurora's face stayed neutral, offering no reply. Once, she too had thought Grayson was the best person alive. But not anymore.
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7.7
A Whitmere Family Romance
Ten years ago, Sloane Hart ran from the only man she ever loved.
Not because she stopped loving him-
but because loving Rhett Whitmere meant risking everything.
Now she's back in Whitmere County, standing inside the luxury hotel he built from heartbreak, legacy, and a love he never let go of. Rhett is no longer the boy she left behind. He's a powerful CEO bound by family expectation, haunted by the past, and still hopelessly in love with the woman who shattered him.
Sloane only planned to stay long enough to complete a high-profile spa expansion.
She never planned to fall for him again.
But in a town that remembers everything, whispers turn into scandals, and old wounds reopen fast. When a dangerous betrayal threatens Rhett's empire and puts Sloane at the center of a storm, they're forced to face the truth they've both been avoiding:
Some loves don't fade.
They wait.
And this time, Rhett Whitmere isn't willing to lose her again.
Forever Yours, Almost is a slow-burn, second-chance romance filled with family legacy, small-town secrets, emotional tension, and a love worth fighting for
8.5
Kaelyn spent three years believing Andrew loved her completely, until one overheard conversation shattered everything.
He had never returned for her. He had come back to save another woman, even if it meant taking Kaelyn's heart.
Humiliated and done with loving alone, she agreed to marry Theodore, the blind yet powerful heir chosen by his grandfather.
After the wedding, no matter how many times she tried, she just couldn't get past his walls.
Then at a banquet, her desperate ex came begging. Before Kaelyn could react, Theodore drew her into his arms and murmured, "Giving up already? Try again. I'm ready to surrender."
8.7
I was trapped in a greasy diner by my own mother.
She was forcing me to marry my abusive cousin because he had paid her twenty thousand dollars.
To escape, I used a contract marriage app and begged a complete stranger to marry me at City Hall that very day.
Ethan drove a cheap Ford and wore a plain suit. I thought he was just an ordinary guy needing a fake wife.
When my mother found out, she brought thugs to destroy my flower shop—my only home and livelihood.
To protect Ethan from her endless extortion, I shielded him and screamed that he was bankrupt and drowning in credit card debt.
My mother fled in disgust, and Ethan took me into his apartment for the night.
But out of trauma and habit, I locked my bedroom door, muttering that he must be old and desperate.
He stormed out into the freezing night, leaving me terrified that I had ruined my only lifeline.
I didn't understand why he was so furiously offended, completely unaware that my "broke" husband was actually the most ruthless billionaire in New York, and I had just trampled his massive ego.
The next morning, his face was a mask of ice as he dragged me back to City Hall to annul the marriage and get rid of me.
"Annulment. Now," he demanded.
But the clerk just popped her gum and slid a pink paper across the counter.
"State law changed. Mandatory thirty-day cooling-off period."
8.6
Aubree pushed Ezra down the grand staircase, crippling the only man who silently protected her.
She thought she was finally escaping his control to be with her true love, Foster Newton.
But she had no idea it was a vicious trap meticulously set by Newton and her sweet, innocent cousin, Brandi.
Once Ezra was driven out of New York in despair, Aubree's life became a living hell. Her father completely disowned her. Brandi smoothly took over her home and her millions in inheritance.
"You were just a stepping stone for us, Aubree."
That was the last thing Newton sneered before leaving her to die.
Lying on the freezing floor, her warm blood pooling in her palms, Aubree finally saw the horrifying truth. She had destroyed her own family and ruined the one man who genuinely cared for her, all for a pair of greedy parasites.
Endless regret and suffocating hatred consumed her fading consciousness. Why was she so blind? Why did she let them manipulate her into destroying her own life?
Then, her eyes snapped open.
A violent wave of dizziness hit her. She looked down at her pale, flawless hands. There were no deep cuts. There was no sticky blood.
She was back. She had miraculously returned to the exact night she pushed Ezra, just two hours before his private jet was scheduled to leave forever.
Hearing her father's furious roar outside her bedroom door, Aubree didn't cower.
She wiped the smeared makeup from her face, her eyes turning dead cold. This time, she was going to make Ezra stay, and she was going to send those leeches straight to hell.
9.7
Charity woke up in a hellish, acid-rain-soaked slum, trapped inside a bloated body covered in festering, toxic sores. She was the exiled Grand Princess of the Empire.
But the real nightmare wasn't her ruined body. It was the fact that the original owner had used her royal authority to force genetic marriage contracts onto four top-tier, powerful men.
Now, she was bound to them, and they absolutely loathed her.
Hjalmar, chained to a bed in her filthy room, smiled like a feral beast and promised to rip her head off the second his chains snapped.
Braden, a ruthless military officer, saved her from a mutated rat only to look at her with pure disgust.
"If you want to die, go die somewhere else. Don't dirty my patrol sector."
Even the locals mocked her fallen status, and a wealthy heiress publicly framed her for stealing a hundred-thousand-coin energy core just to see her rot in a dark cell.
She was universally despised, physically repulsive, and a lethal biological toxin gave her exactly 59 days left to live. How was she supposed to survive this absolute hell when her starting affection with her partners was at negative 100?
Then, a mechanical voice echoed in her skull, activating a survival system. To purge the poison, she had to harvest emotional energy by making these four men fall for her. Charity accepted the mandate, unlocked a top-tier culinary skill, and grabbed a rusted meat cleaver to start her counterattack.
8.3
My husband, Derek, once called me his princess. But when my parents died and I miscarried our child, he told me to be "radically independent" and handle my grief alone.
After I tried to end my own life, I woke up in the hospital to see him holding his crying assistant, Krystal.
He whispered to her, "You never have to be strong with me."
He told the doctors I was just seeking attention and hung up. Krystal later visited, blaming me for the miscarriage before destroying my mother's heirlooms. Derek believed her lies, throwing me out of our home and leaving me with nothing.
He thought I was a weak, dependent woman he could easily discard. He thought his tech empire was his own creation.
He never knew his "self-made" success was a gift, secretly funded by my billionaire family. Now, he's about to learn what happens when a princess decides to become a queen.