Pampered By The Ruthless Tycoon Guardian

Kenzie, the former leader of the Aegis Alliance, opened her eyes to find herself reincarnated as a freezing, abandoned infant in a wet cardboard box. She was rescued from the rain by Devin Ayers, a ruthless billionaire, and rushed to a private hospital, but a deadly threat was already waiting for her. The ER doctor, Desiree Dillon, approached her with a syringe. Through a sudden burst of telepathy, Kenzie read the doctor's dark thoughts. Desiree wasn't trying to cure her fever. She deliberately ignored the safe dosage, drawing a lethal amount of Diazepam to permanently silence the crying baby and disguise it as sudden infant death. "This will make it all go away," Desiree smiled gently, the needle glinting as it moved inches from Kenzie's arm. Trapped in a weak, paralyzed three-month-old body, Kenzie couldn't run, fight, or even speak. She could only watch the poison inch closer. How could she survive death only to be assassinated in a hospital bed by a corrupt doctor? She used to command armies. The sheer injustice and terror of dying completely helpless in this tiny body ignited a blinding rage inside her. Refusing to be a victim again, Kenzie pushed her newborn brain to its absolute limit and unleashed a desperate telepathic scream directly into the billionaire's mind. "Poison! She's trying to kill me!" Devin, who had been looking away, suddenly froze, his icy gray eyes locking onto the doctor's wrist.

Chapters

Chapter 1

Rain hammered the cardboard, each drop sounding like a fist against the thin, damp walls. Kenzie opened her eyes. The world was a blur of gray and neon, streaked with water. Cold. It was so cold her bones ached, a deep, hollow throb that echoed through her entire body. She tried to sit up, to push herself out of the freezing puddle soaking through the cardboard bottom.

Her arms flailed. Short, chubby, and weak. Her fingers were tiny, the nails barely there, tinged a frightening shade of blue.

Panic, sharp and acidic, surged up her throat. She looked down at legs that wouldn't respond, at a torso no bigger than a loaf of bread. This wasn't her body. This wasn't the body of the leader of the Aegis Alliance. She tried to command her muscles to coil, to spring, to fight. The most she managed was a pathetic wiggle that sent her sliding deeper into the wet cardboard.

Hypothermia. The clinical part of her brain screamed the diagnosis. Her core temperature was dropping fast. The shivering had stopped, which meant she was in the danger zone. She needed heat. She needed shelter. She needed to get out of this box before the cold stopped her heart for a second time.

Then she heard it. Footsteps. Heavy, measured, striking the pavement with a rhythm that spoke of absolute authority. The sound of expensive leather meeting wet asphalt.

Kenzie forced her head to turn. Through a gap in the flattened flaps of the box, she saw them. A pair of shoes. Black, polished to a mirror shine even in the rain, stepping deliberately through the puddles. John Lobb. Custom-made. The shoes of a man who owned the ground he walked on.

A survival instinct older than her current body kicked in. This was her only chance. She couldn't fight, she couldn't run. All she had was this one weapon. She drew in a breath, filling lungs that felt ridiculously small, and let out a wail.

It wasn't the weak cry of a sick infant. It was a piercing, desperate scream that tore through the noise of the rain, designed to hit the eardrums like a shockwave.

The footsteps stopped.

"Sir." A deeper voice, rough and impatient. "I'll move it. Probably just a stray cat."

A shadow fell over the box. A heavy boot reared back, ready to kick the cardboard aside.

No. Kenzie gasped, cutting off the wail instantly. In the sudden silence, she let out a tiny, choked sob. A sound of pure, helpless suffocation. It was a calculated move, hitting the exact frequency that triggered the deepest, most primal instinct in a human brain.

The boot hovered in the air.

"Wait." The second voice was different. Low, cold, and commanding. The voice of the man in the John Lobb shoes.

The boot lowered. The shadow retreated.

Kenzie held her breath. The rain drummed on. Then, the box moved. Fingers-long, encased in black leather-gripped the wet cardboard and tore it open like paper.

The neon light from the streetlamp flooded in. Kenzie blinked against the glare, looking up at the man towering over her. Rain streamed down his face, plastering dark hair to his forehead. His eyes were a pale, icy gray, staring down at her with a look that could freeze hell over twice. He wore a dark wool coat that looked like it cost more than a house.

She stared back. She didn't cry. She didn't cower. She met that lethal gaze with the fierce, unyielding intensity of a woman who had commanded armies. For a second, the air between them crackled. The man's jaw tightened. His eyes narrowed, a flicker of genuine shock breaking through the icy mask.

"Sir, we need to go," the bigger man-Arthur-grunted from behind him. "The car is waiting."

The gray-eyed man ignored him. Slowly, deliberately, he pulled off his right leather glove. He stuffed it into his coat pocket and knelt down. The knees of his tailored pants sank into the dirty puddle. He reached out, his bare fingers hovering over her forehead.

The moment his skin touched hers, a jolt of static electricity snapped between them. It stung. The man's hand jerked back an inch, his breath catching in his throat.

Kenzie glared at him, her mind racing despite the cold fogging her brain. "This guy's suit is decent, but he stares at a dying baby like he's deciding whether to put it out of its misery. Psycho."

The man went completely rigid. His head snapped up, his eyes darting around the empty alleyway. The brick walls were slick with rain, the fire escapes deserted. There was no one else there.

His gaze slowly traveled back down to the baby in the box. The baby who was currently blowing a spit bubble and looking at him with an expression far too aware for an infant.

"Arthur," the man said, his voice dangerously soft. "Draw your weapon."

The bodyguard's hand flew to his holster, pulling out a Glock 19 in a fluid motion. "Where? What is it?"

Kenzie felt the sudden tension in the air. She sighed internally, her infant face scrunching up. "Oh, great. Now they're pulling guns. Are you going to shoot a baby? You absolute morons. Just pick me up already."

The man's eyes widened. The sound-her voice-hadn't come from the air. It had echoed directly inside his skull, clear as a bell, loud and sarcastic. He stared at her, his chest rising and falling a little faster.

He reached down again. This time, his fingers didn't hesitate. He grabbed the front of her soaked, filthy onesie. With two fingers, he lifted her up, letting her dangle in the freezing air like a wet rag. The fabric cut into her neck.

"You're choking me, you overgrown ape!" Kenzie's mind screamed, her tiny limbs flailing in protest. "Support the neck! Support the neck! Do you want to snap my cervical spine?"

The man's hand stopped. He heard it again. That sharp, commanding voice ringing in his head, issuing a precise medical directive. He looked at the struggling, purple-faced infant, and a muscle jumped in his cheek.

Without a word, he shifted his grip. His large, warm palm slid under her head, cradling the back of her neck with surprising gentleness. He tucked her against his chest, inside the heavy wool coat. The heat from his body hit her like a furnace.

Kenzie stopped struggling. The warmth was intoxicating. She slumped against the expensive fabric, her eyes fluttering shut. "About time," she thought, a wave of exhaustion washing over her. "You'll do. You're my meal ticket now."

The man-Devin Ayers-stood perfectly still in the rain. He could feel the tiny heartbeat against his chest, rapid but steady. He listened to the voice in his head, a voice that belonged to the creature he was holding, and a slow, dangerous smile touched the corners of his mouth.

"Cancel the flight to Zurich," Devin said, his eyes fixed on the dark end of the alley. "Take me home. Now."

Continue to next part

It took seven years for Ethan to convince me I was the center of his universe, and exactly seven weeks for his "business partner," Chloe, to prove I was just a placeholder. I was the woman who ironed his shirts and managed his schedule, yet she was the one he comforted at 2 AM. But the real end didn't come with a fight. It came with an explosion. At a family gathering, a gas heater malfunctioned. Glass shattered, and fire erupted. In that split second of life or death, Ethan didn't look for me. He threw his body over Chloe. He shielded her from the flames, cocooning her in his arms, whispering frantically to her while I stood twenty feet away, watching my boyfriend of seven years act like I didn't exist. When I confronted him later, he didn't apologize. Instead, he let Chloe carve her initials over ours on our anniversary tree. When I tried to stop them, he shoved me into the dirt to comfort her over a broken nail. "You are dead to me, Ava," he screamed. "Jealousy makes you ugly." He thought I would beg. He thought I was an appliance he could unplug and plug back in whenever he wanted. He was arrogant enough to believe I would always be there, waiting for his scraps. He was wrong. While he was playing hero to his mistress, I didn't cry. I booked a one-way ticket to Portland, snapped my SIM card in half, and vanished. By the time he realized the silence in his apartment wasn't peace, but abandonment, I was already gone.

Action Modern Mystery

7.1

Reborn Heiress: The Wolf's Vengeance Deal

7.1

I lay paralyzed on stiff white sheets, a prisoner in my own skin, listening to the rain lash against the window like nails on a coffin. My father, Elmore Franco, didn't even look at my face as he checked his clipboard. He just listened to the steady, monotonous beep of the heart monitor-the only thing proving I was still alive. Without a hint of remorse, he pulled a pen from his pocket and signed the Do Not Resuscitate order. My stepmother, Ophelia, stepped out from behind him, wearing my favorite pearl necklace and smelling of cloying perfume. She leaned close to my ear to whisper the truth that turned my blood to ice. "It was the tea, darling. Just like your mother. A slow, tasteless poison." She chuckled as she revealed that my fiancé, Bryce, had a two-year-old son with my sister, Daniela. My inheritance had been funding their secret life for years, and now that the money was secure, I was an inconvenience they were finally scrubbing away. As my father yanked the power cord from the wall, the beeping died, and the darkness swallowed me whole. I was being murdered by my own flesh and blood, used as a bank account until I was no longer needed. I died in that sterile room, drowning in the realization that every person I ever loved was a monster who had been waiting for me to take my last breath. Then, I gasped. I woke up in a luxury hotel suite surrounded by silk sheets, five years in the past-the very morning of my wedding. Next to me lay Basile Delgado, the "Wolf of Wall Street" and my family's most dangerous enemy. In my first life, I ran from this room in a panic and lost everything. This time, I looked at the man who would eventually destroy my father's empire and decided to join him. "I'm not leaving, Basile. Marry me. Right now. Today."

Action Billionaire Fantasy

8.3

Revenge Is A Daughter's Sweetest Dish

8.3

The first time I died, it was from a cancer my mother couldn' t afford. My father, who had left us for his wealthy mistress, refused to pay for my treatment. In a desperate attempt to save me, my mother tried to sell her kidney on the black market. She was scammed and left to die in an alley. She died of an infection a week before I finally succumbed to the cancer, alone in a hospital bed. I' ll never forget him telling my begging mother that his new family had expenses, handing her a few hundred dollars as if she were trash. Then, I opened my eyes. I was fourteen again, healthy, watching the divorce happen all over again. My father looked at me, expecting me to choose my mother. "Blake," he said, "you' ll have to choose who you want to live with." I remembered the hunger, the cold, and my mother' s broken body. I met her tear-filled eyes, my own heart shattering. "I choose Dad."

Action Modern Mystery

7.4

Sold to be a Billionaire's Slave

7.4

"You like being touched like a dirty whore. Don't you, Zoe?" "Yes, Mr. Gatsby." Zoe never imagined her life could fall apart so quickly. Sold at a secret auction, betrayed by her stepfather after her mother's death., she is bought by Brayden Gatsby, a ruthless billionaire whose wealth hides darker appetites. In his world, her body is no longer her own. Every command tests her limits. Every punishment strips away who she used to be and she gets introduced to sinful fantasies. But submission isn't the end. It's the beginning.Because beneath the chains and the brutal lessons lies a dangerous connection, one Zoe isn't supposed to want. Brayden is merciless, possessive, and utterly in control... yet the more he breaks her, the more he awakens something raw inside her.Caught between pain and pleasure, fear and desire, Zoe must decide: fight for the freedom stolen from her... or surrender completely to the man who bought her as his slave.

Action Billionaire Modern

9.3

The Lycans Twins Hidden Mate

9.3

Alina was raised as an omega maid, and she was kept out of sight and considered a nothing. However, when her pack is deprived of all their belongings at the end of the war, her stepbrother sells her as a sacrifice to the most dreaded rulers in the world, the twin Lycan kings, Kael and Kaden. A single night out with them transforms all that. They brand her as their mate, but the mark fades away by morning. The council calls her cursed. A fake Luna is brought in. And in a short time, Alina has been put in the position of a thief, a liar and a betrayer. Being hunted by the kings she loves, pushed back to the pack which abused her, Alina becomes the Alpha when she discovers the truth about the deaths of her parents. But the kings come back, imploring to be given another opportunity. Her wolf is dying. Her enemies are closing in. And the one, who can rescue her, must sacrifice all of it, even his wolf. At this point, Alina has to decide between revenge, power and the two men she can never forget.

Action Romance Werewolf

Pampered By The Ruthless Tycoon Guardian

Chapter 1

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