
Pregnant And Fleeing The Ruthless Billionaire
For five years, Jodi was the perfect, compliant secret lover to billionaire CEO Armand Taylor.
Then, she woke up to a cold email and a seven-figure wire transfer. Armand was marrying European royalty. The money was a severance package to quietly warehouse her out of sight.
Refusing to be his dirty secret, Jodi invoked her contract's termination clause to leave for good. But Armand wouldn't let her go easily. He forced her to personally train her vicious new replacement, Selah.
Selah immediately tampered with a crucial financial file, framing Jodi for sabotaging Taylor Corp's multi-billion-dollar tech acquisition.
Without a second thought, Armand took the new girl's side. He cornered Jodi in the boardroom, his eyes dead and cold.
"You have three days to fix this. If you fail, I will personally see to it that you go to prison for corporate fraud."
He froze her bank accounts and stripped away her dignity, ready to destroy her life over a blatant lie.
He thought she was just a weak, discarded toy who would break under his threats.
What Armand didn't know was the terrifying secret Jodi had just discovered hidden at the bottom of her bathroom trash can.
Three positive pregnancy tests.
If the ruthless billionaire found out she was carrying his heir, he would never let her escape.
Wiping her tears, Jodi slipped into a severe black silk gown and crashed an exclusive Hamptons gala to intercept the tech CEO herself.
This time, she wasn't playing the obedient lover. She was going to clear her name and burn Armand's empire to the ground.
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Chapter 7
Jodi walked into her office, and the first thing she saw was Selah Pruitt sitting in her chair.
Selah had her feet propped up on the corner of the desk, casually scrolling through her phone as if she owned the place. It was a calculated act of dominance, and they both knew it.
Hearing Jodi enter, Selah slowly lowered her feet and stood, a wide, saccharine smile spreading across her face.
"Jodi! You made it," she chirped, her voice dripping with false concern. "You look a little pale. Was it a bad flu? Armand was so worried."
The casual, proprietary way she said his name was a deliberate jab. A territorial marking.
Jodi ignored it. She placed her handbag on the corner of the desk that Selah had just vacated. "Let's get started," she said, her voice flat. "We don't have all day."
She pulled the visitor's chair around and sat, opening her laptop. She was all business, her tone crisp and efficient as she began walking Selah through the daily schedules, the contact lists, the vendor accounts.
Selah pretended to listen, but her focus was elsewhere. She interrupted constantly, not with questions about the work, but with little verbal bombs designed to showcase her own status.
"Oh, is that a Nespresso machine? Armand prefers his Blue Mountain coffee hand-ground. He's so particular in the mornings."
A moment later, while pointing to the white orchid on the windowsill. "That's lovely. Did Armand get it for you? The tulips he sent me yesterday were flown in from Amsterdam."
Jodi continued on, her face impassive, her voice a steady monotone. She refused to engage, to acknowledge the pathetic attempts at psychological warfare. Her indifference was a more powerful weapon than any retort.
The breaking point came when they reached Armand's personal schedule.
Selah waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, I know most of this already. Armand and I were on the phone for hours last night going over it." She leaned in, her smile turning venomous. "He said he's looking forward to having someone around who's a bit more... considerate. Someone who knows how not to upset him."
The insult, so casually delivered, landed with precision. It wasn't just about coffee or flowers. It was a direct attack on Jodi's character, on the five years she had spent carefully navigating his moods.
Jodi stopped talking.
She slowly closed the lid of her laptop. The soft click echoed in the suddenly silent room.
She turned her body to face Selah directly. The polite, professional mask dropped. The look in her eyes was no longer weary or indifferent. It was ancient and cold and dangerous.
Selah's smile froze on her face. She instinctively shrank back in her chair.
"Ms. Pruitt," Jodi began, her voice quiet, but carrying the weight of a guillotine. "I am here to facilitate a professional handover. I am not here to listen to the highlight reel of your courtship."
She held up a single, elegant finger. "Let me give you some advice, since you're so new to this. First, Armand Taylor's tastes are fickle. The man who loves tulips today could develop a sudden, violent allergy to them tomorrow. Hinging your value on his passing preferences is the most amateur mistake you can make."
She raised a second finger. "Second, my value in this office was never about my ability to make coffee. It was about my ability to solve problems he didn't want to be bothered with. If all you bring to the table is knowing his breakfast order, you'll be replaced within three months. I guarantee it."
Jodi leaned forward slightly, her eyes locking onto Selah's. "Third, and most importantly, do not mistake my compliance for weakness. And do not ever try to play your petty, transparent games with me again. I survived in this building for five years not because I was sweet, but because every single person who tried to undermine me ended up cleaning out their desk."
Selah was chalk-white. The smug confidence had evaporated, replaced by raw, undisguised fear.
Jodi leaned back, her expression returning to one of cool detachment. She opened her laptop again. "Now, as I was saying. The Wexler Technology acquisition."
Selah could only nod, her throat working. She didn't say another word for the rest of the handover.
When they were finished, Jodi took a small, silver USB drive from her bag. "This is the final due diligence data set for Wexler. I've triple-checked the valuations. It's ready to be sent directly to the M&A department."
She held it out.
Selah took the drive, her fingers trembling slightly. As her hand closed around it, the fear in her eyes curdled into something else. A dark, resentful hatred.
A plan began to form in the ruins of her pride. A way to ensure the woman who had just humiliated her would not get to walk away so easily.
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9.7
Clarissa rushed into a crowded nightclub for one simple reason: to save her wildly drunk best friend.
But her ruthless billionaire husband, Giovanny, was watching from the VIP room. After effortlessly ruining a man just for grabbing her wrist, Giovanny punished Clarissa for breaching their public image contract with an impossible curfew.
When she inevitably arrived back at his penthouse late, he didn't just yell. He forced her to her knees by his bathtub to wash his back, making her watch an explicit, humiliating video as punishment.
A sudden family medical emergency dragged them to his parents' estate. Still in her soaked, transparent dress and his misbuttoned shirt, Giovanny's mother caught them. She joyfully assumed they had been passionately intimate.
Instead of clearing her name, Giovanny pulled Clarissa close and lied to his mother's face.
"We are working very hard on the family's future, Mother."
He locked her in the guest suite, tossed a sheer silk nightgown on the bed, and literally shattered the tablet holding their "no-contact" prenuptial agreement. He then slapped a file against the window—he had secretly bought all her father's toxic debt.
Clarissa was terrified. They were supposed to be business allies bound by a strict contract. Why was he suddenly acting like a predator determined to own her body and soul?
"Give me an heir, or your father goes to federal prison," he whispered.
Stripped of all choices, Clarissa picked up the white silk. She would surrender tonight to save her family, but as his shadow swallowed her, she made a silent vow to survive this monster, and one day, tear his empire to the ground.

8.0
My abusive step-family isolated me completely, holding my mother's medical funds hostage to control my every move.
Yesterday, they finalized my sale.
"You will marry Rudy Petrov next month. He is fifty, wealthy, and willing to overlook your lack of pedigree."
Pushed to the absolute edge, I did the insane. I posted an ad online offering my life savings of $50,000 for a contract husband. A stranger named Brennan agreed.
But my family wouldn't let me go. They forced me back for a dinner by threatening my mother's life-saving prescriptions.
At the table, they relentlessly mocked my new "poor IT guy" husband and intentionally burned my hand with boiling tea.
Worse, the housekeeper locked me in a guest room and forced drugs down my throat so Rudy could come in and assault me.
I lay there paralyzed on the floor, bleeding from Rudy's slap, utterly terrified. I couldn't understand why my own family would throw me to the wolves, and I felt a crushing guilt for dragging an innocent, ordinary guy into my nightmare.
Until a pitch-black Maybach smashed through the estate's wrought-iron gates at eighty miles an hour.
My "poor" husband kicked the solid oak doors off their hinges, beat Rudy half to death, and carried me out into the rain.
I didn't know it yet, but the ordinary man I hired to save me was a ruthless billionaire, and he was about to erase my family's entire empire by morning.

9.3
"Adrian, why would you lie to me? Why would you let her push my mum like that?"
Yvonne's voice trembled, holding back tears.
Adrian smirked. "Wake up, Yvonne. You really thought I wanted you when Tricia was right here?"
That was how Adrian-her first crush, the boy she thought cared-chose to humiliate her in front of everyone as she was the cleaner's adopted daughter.
But fate had other plans.
Because the Diamond Belfort brothers-the heirs everyone adored were coming to their school in search of their missing heiress- baby sister. But the queen bee steals the chance that should have been hers. Then again, secrets don't stay buried forever. With her true identity waiting to explode, Yvonne must decide to rise from the ashes, claim her place, and bring down everyone who tried to destroy her.
Because the real heiress doesn't beg.
She takes rather.
Now, Yvonne is done playing small. It's her time to rise, reclaim her crown, and make everyone regret ever doubting her.

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."

9.3
To escape my abusive adoptive mother selling me to a loan shark for $50,000, I rushed to City Hall to marry a blind date.
In a blind panic, I grabbed the wrong man.
He was Julian Cardenas IV, a billionaire CEO who desperately needed a fake wife to dodge a corporate arranged marriage. We signed the papers on the spot.
He became my legal shield. He moved me into his pristine penthouse and secretly protected me from my family's violent threats. When I broke down crying in the freezing cold, he quietly left me hot cocoa. For the first time in my life, I felt safe.
But then, Julian overheard me complaining to my sister about my constantly breaking-down car, groaning that I had to "get rid of this baby four times."
He thought I meant abortions.
The man who was slowly melting my frozen heart instantly turned to ice. He threw away the dinner he had specially bought for me, his eyes filled with absolute disgust and blinding rage.
I was left entirely confused and terrified. Why did my savior suddenly look at me like I was the most repulsive thing in the world? What had I done to deserve this sudden cruelty?
I thought this fake marriage was my ticket out of hell. I didn't realize I had just locked myself in a cage with a furious, ruthless CEO who now wanted to destroy me.

7.2
Stepping out of the women's correctional center, Karli took her first breath of freedom in three years.
But the luxury SUV waiting for her didn't bring her home. Instead, her adoptive parents tossed a prenuptial agreement onto her lap.
They demanded she marry a violently unhinged, disfigured man so their company could secure a massive commercial deal.
When she refused, her adoptive mother slapped her hard across the face.
The blow brought back the suffocating nightmare from three years ago—how they had drugged her, framed her for a crime she didn't commit, and sent her to prison just so her stepsister could steal her fiancé.
Now, to break her again, her adoptive father ordered his bodyguards to drag her into the estate's freezing, pitch-black basement.
"You can rot in the dark without food or water until you sign that paper!"
Sitting on the damp cement, bleeding and shivering, a white-hot fury burned away Karli's panic.
They had stolen her youth, her reputation, and her grandfather's inheritance. She would rather die than be their sacrificial lamb again.
She smashed the basement window with a hammer, dragged her bleeding body through the shattered glass, and sprinted blindly into the stormy night.
Under the flickering neon sign of a convenience store, she grabbed the sleeve of a terrifyingly cold stranger.
"Are you single? Marry me right now."
She just needed a legal marriage to escape her family, entirely unaware she had just proposed to the most ruthless billionaire in Chicago.