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.
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Chapter 5
Alastair Sinclair, the hospital's chief administrator, wiped his sweaty forehead with a silk handkerchief for the third time in two minutes. He pushed open the frosted glass door of the VIP lounge, his knees feeling like jelly.
Devin Ayers was sitting on a single sofa, an island of cold fury in the center of the room. He was scrolling through his iPad, not bothering to look up as Alastair approached.
"Mr. Ayers," Alastair began, his voice trembling slightly. "Regarding last night's incident... the Medical Board has reviewed the case. They believe it was a tragic error caused by fatigue. Dr. Dillon has been under a lot of stress..."
Devin didn't look up. He just turned a page on his screen. "A tragic error that nearly stopped my ward's heart?"
Alastair swallowed hard. He had to play his trump card. He straightened his tie and forced a confident smile. "Mr. Ayers, Dr. Dillon is engaged to Sterling Coleman. She is practically family. I'm sure we can resolve this quietly, for the sake of the Coleman family name."
Devin finally looked up. His eyes were devoid of any warmth. A sneer curled his lip.
In the bedroom, Kenzie was lying in her crib, listening through the slightly ajar door. She couldn't help but snicker internally. "This old fool has no idea he's talking to the actual head of the Coleman family. He's trying to name-drop you to your face."
Devin heard the thought. The sneer turned into a genuine, chilling smile. He leaned back, crossing his arms. "The Coleman family name? Is that supposed to impress me?"
Alastair blinked, confused by the reaction. "Well, I just thought-"
The door opened. Miles walked in, holding a black, encrypted folder. He ignored the administrator entirely, walking straight to Devin. "Sir. The security footage has been recovered, and the background check is complete."
Devin took the folder. He pulled out a stack of glossy photographs and, with a flick of his wrist, threw them into Alastair's face. The sharp edges scraped against the older man's cheek.
Alastair scrambled to catch them. He looked down at the photos. His blood ran cold. They were surveillance shots of Desiree in a dimly lit underground casino, handing over cash to a man with a scarred face. Other photos showed her buying small amber vials from a street dealer.
"Medical error?" Devin asked softly. He placed his iPad on the coffee table and hit play.
The screen filled with the high-definition footage from the ER. It was zoomed in, slow-motion. It clearly showed Desiree slipping the correct vial of medication into her right pocket and pulling the amber vial from her left. It showed the deliberate, calculated movement of her thumb on the syringe, pushing the plunger far past the safe limit.
There was no fatigue. There was no mistake. It was cold-blooded, premeditated attempted murder.
Alastair dropped to his knees. The carpet absorbed the impact, but the thud of his pride hitting the floor was audible. "Mr. Ayers... I didn't know..."
"The Diazepam in that syringe was concentrated enough to kill a grown man," Devin said, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper. "She was going to make it look like Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. And you were going to help her cover it up."
"No! Never!" Alastair cried, tears streaming down his face. "I swear! I was just trying to protect the hospital's reputation!"
"You were protecting a murderer," Devin stood up, towering over the cowering man. "Fire her. I want her face on every disciplinary board in the country. I want her license revoked by noon. Or I will buy this hospital tomorrow and turn it into a parking garage, and you will be the first one I evict."
"I'll do it!" Alastair scrambled to his feet, nodding frantically. "I'll draft the termination and the public report right now!" He ran out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
Miles stepped forward, handing Devin another document. "Sir, we confirmed it. Her degree is forged. She paid off the admissions dean."
Devin took the paper. "Send it to the Coleman family lawyers," Devin ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Instruct them to forward it to Sterling as an urgent due diligence report. And attach a message from me: Devin Ayers requested this report. Review it before you do anything foolish."
Kenzie, listening from the other room, felt a surge of satisfaction. "Smart move," she thought. "Let the brother do the dirty work. It'll hurt more coming from him."
Devin walked into the bedroom. He looked down at Kenzie, who was staring up at him with wide, innocent eyes. He reached out and poked her soft cheek with one finger.
"Bad guys gone," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. "Happy now?"
Kenzie wrinkled her nose and turned her head away from his finger. "Stop poking me," she thought irritably. "I'm not a toy. Personal space!"
Devin let out a low chuckle. The sound was rusty, as if he hadn't made it in a long time.
Just then, his phone buzzed. He pulled it out and glanced at the screen. The name flashing on it was "Sterling."
Devin's smile vanished. He answered the call, his face hardening. "Hello, Sterling."
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7.6
Jocelyn Yang lived in the grand Turner Mansion, not as a guest, but as a prisoner. Ever since her father's death, the ruthless billionaire Elam Turner forced her to atone for sins her father never committed.
On her nineteenth birthday, a male classmate secretly sent her a diamond necklace. Elam, who had flown back from London overnight, flew into a psychotic, jealous rage at the sight of another man's gift.
He mercilessly crushed the delicate necklace into the marble floor with his custom leather shoe.
"Did you forget what you are?" Elam hissed, dragging her into a pitch-black storage room. "You take gifts from other men behind my back?"
He pinned her to the dusty floorboards and violently assaulted her. The next morning, a wire transfer of $500,000 hit her bank account. He had humiliated her, broken her spirit, and was now casually trying to buy her silence. Later, when a broken bike left her walking miles through a freezing rainstorm, he just shoved scalding tea into her bleeding hands.
"Look at you," he sneered. "You look like a stray dog ruining my floors."
Jocelyn curled up in the cold, her lips bleeding and her heart shattered. She couldn't understand his terrifying obsession. If he hated her so much, why did he refuse to let her go? Why did he look at her with such manic hunger while systematically destroying her life?
Staring at the massive sum of hush money on her phone, a desperate spark of vengeance flared in her chest. Jocelyn wired every single cent back to Elam's account. She picked up her charcoal pencil, vowing to win the upcoming art competition and buy her escape from this monster forever.
7.9
Hannah came home under a false identity, ready to keep her head down and avoid trouble. Then a near-drowning opened her eyes, and the family she had wanted gave her nothing but disappointment.
She severed every tie, shed the disguise, and rose in revenge as a miracle doctor, brilliant hacker, and feared underworld ruler. Shock followed her family at every turn.
Her parents regretted everything. Her eldest brother clung desperately to the bond of their shared blood, while her second brother gave up his entire fortune just to earn her forgiveness. Her third brother offered up his own body for a surgery-all to save her.
But Hannah stayed cold and built her empire alone. Only one deadly rival refused to be ignored.
"I was hired to kill you, mister."
"Then take my heart, too."
7.2
Allie Patterson poured fifteen years into her husband Grayson’s tech startup, living in a cramped San Jose apartment. Every penny, every late night coding session, was for their shared future, built on his constant claims the company struggled, always on the verge of its big break.
Then, a grant deed arrived: a stunning $4.2 million Atherton villa, paid in full, listing Grayson and an unknown Kacey Schmidt as joint tenants.
Her coffee mug shattered as Allie’s world imploded. Driving to the mansion, she found Kacey in silk pajamas, flaunting a massive pink diamond and, beneath it, Grayson’s grandmother’s heirloom ring – the one he’d tearfully claimed to have lost years ago.
Kacey purred, "He's in the shower. We were so tired last night."
The words were a serrated knife, twisting, confirming years of lies.
Humiliation and rage burned out, leaving a terrifying, absolute silence. All her sacrifice and trust were a cruel, elaborate joke, orchestrated by the man she loved.
Allie calmly took photos, then gave herself one minute in her beat-up car to mourn. When it passed, her tears stopped, replaced by cold, calculated murder in her eyes. She typed a text to Grayson:
"Come home early tonight. I have a surprise for you."
8.1
I died on an apocalyptic battlefield, only to wake up pinned down by a lead-lined blanket of my own fat.
A violent download of memories hit me. I had transmigrated into the body of an exiled, sadistic noblewoman who was three million coins in debt.
The original owner was an absolute monster. She had purchased beastman guards just to torture them for fun. In the corner of the filthy room, a golden retriever boy cowered, his back shredded by her barbed whip. In the basement, a snake guard was frozen and scarred from constant electro-shocks. When the white tiger guard returned from hard labor, he looked at me with pure, murderous hatred, ready to tear me apart to protect the others. Even the local elites kicked down my door to mock my pathetic life and try to steal my men.
I was a decorated commander who bled for humanity. Why was I trapped in this ruined vessel, bearing the sins of a degenerate abuser?
It was all a setup by her sweet-faced cousin, Debera, who stole her royal life and sent her to this outer-rim hellhole to rot.
I gritted my teeth and plunged a military-grade gene repair serum into my arm, letting the agony burn away the black filth and weakness.
"The crazy woman you knew before is dead."
I tossed a medical kit to the trembling guards, loaded my old electromagnetic pistol, and headed for the deadly Demon Hunting Zone to start my revenge.
8.2
For three years, I scrubbed tables as a "wolfless runt," hiding my identity as the Lycan King's daughter.
It was a test for my fiancé, Alpha Connor. I wanted to see if he loved the girl, or just the crown.
He failed spectacularly tonight.
His mistress, Jaden, deliberately knocked a tray of drinks onto me during the dinner rush.
The liquid wasn't alcohol. It was concentrated silver.
My flesh hissed and bubbled as the poison ate through my skin, blocking any ability to heal.
I fell to the floor, clutching my melting hand, while Jaden faked tears and claimed I attacked her.
When Connor finally answered the video call, he saw my mangled hand. He smelled the burning flesh. He knew it was silver.
But he didn't help me.
He looked at his watch, annoyed that I was interrupting his business meeting with investors.
"Apologize to Jaden," he ordered, using his Alpha Command to crush me into submission.
"On your knees. Now."
The pain was blinding, but the betrayal cut deeper. He was forcing his Fated Mate to bow to the woman who tried to maim her.
My knees bent under the pressure, but my Royal blood refused to break.
I looked straight into the camera lens.
"No," I whispered.
I reached into my apron, bypassing the notepad, and pulled out a black satellite phone I hadn't touched in years.
"Code Black," I said to the King on the other end. "Send the Guard."
Connor thought he was disciplining a waitress.
He didn't know he just declared war on the Royal Family.
9.0
Carli followed an anonymous text to a dark garage, only to find her fiancé of seven years tangled with another woman in his Porsche.
She smashed his window, threw her engagement ring at his face, and walked away.
But the betrayal didn't stop there. Her own family sided with the cheater. Her father slapped her across the face so hard she bled, demanding she hand over her late aunt's trust fund.
"If you don't do exactly as you're told tonight, I will freeze every credit card in your name," her father roared.
Forced to attend the exclusive Gutierrez family gala, Carli watched her ex-fiancé parade his cheap mistress to humiliate her, while her stepsister tried to publicly ruin her.
Suddenly, a violent screech echoed as the massive crystal chandelier above them snapped from the ceiling.
In a split second of pure instinct, Vaughn shoved his mistress to safety and threw himself to the ground, completely abandoning Carli to be crushed.
Staring up at the plummeting glass, Carli felt the crushing reality that her entire life had been surrounded by monsters.
But the fatal impact never came.
A massive force yanked her into a hard chest, shielding her body entirely from the explosive shrapnel.
Carli opened her eyes to find Fletcher Gutierrez—the ruthless billionaire king of Wall Street and the masked stranger from her reckless one-night stand—bleeding heavily over her.
Feeling his warm blood on her hands, Carli knew the game had just changed.