Pregnant With The Ruthless CEO's Heir
My ex-boyfriend of three years, Axel, married a perfect wealthy heiress.
I attended his wedding, not to mourn our relationship, but because he had spent the last three years bleeding me dry.
He left me with absolutely nothing but a final notice from the hospital for my dying brother's life support.
Instead of feeling guilty, Axel cornered me in the church hallway, crushing my wrist.
"I'll set you up with an apartment. You won't have to work another day in your life."
He thought he could buy my silence with spare change, while leaving my seventeen-year-old brother, Julian, to die when his treatments were cut off the very next day.
When I refused to be his dirty little secret, Axel used his power to utterly destroy my acting career.
He had my talent agency terminate my contract under a fake morals clause, publicly humiliated me on set, and blacklisted me across the entire industry.
I was shoved out into the freezing rain, left with a torn dress and absolutely no way to pay the five hundred thousand dollar medical bill.
He actually believed he could step on my brother's dying body to build his own fake empire.
He thought I was just a weak, pathetic victim who would eventually crawl back to him on my knees.
But he forgot about the one monster he was absolutely terrified of: his legitimate, ruthless billionaire half-brother, Jace Bauer.
Looking at the three positive pregnancy tests hidden in my drawer, I stepped right in front of Jace's armored Maybach.
"Marry me, and I'll give you the heir you need to secure your empire."
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Chapter 3
The woman was one step away from the second-floor landing. Cora accelerated. Her stilettos sank into the plush carpet, silencing her approach. Just as the woman lifted her foot for the final step, Cora twisted her ankle inward and threw her weight forward.
She slammed into the woman's back.
A sharp gasp echoed in the stairwell. The woman stumbled forward, her arms flailing. The silver tray tipped dangerously, the two glasses of whiskey sliding toward the edge.
Cora's hands shot out. She grabbed the edges of the tray, stabilizing it a split second before the glasses shattered on the floor.
The woman caught the railing and spun around, her face twisted in fury. "Watch where you're going, you stupid-"
The insult died in her throat. Cora stepped into her personal space, her eyes cold and dead.
"I saw the powder," Cora whispered, her voice barely a breath against the woman's ear. "White. Fast-dissolving. You dropped it in the glass on the right."
The woman's face turned the color of chalk. Her eyes darted frantically around the stairwell. She opened her mouth to deny it, but Cora's index finger was already resting on the rim of the spiked glass.
"You have two choices," Cora said, her tone conversational. "You let go of this tray and walk out the front door right now. Or I scream for security, and I let the Bauer legal team bury you in a federal prison for the next twenty years."
The woman swallowed hard. Terror radiated from her in waves. Her hands shook violently as she released the tray. She didn't say a word. She turned and practically ran down the stairs, disappearing into the crowded club.
Cora stood alone in the shadows of the stairwell. She took a deep breath, letting the stale air fill her lungs. She adjusted the straps of her red dress, pasted a flawless, seductive smile onto her lips, and stepped out onto the second-floor landing.
She walked straight toward the semi-private booth.
Gus Bullock was the first to notice her. He was playing with a silver lighter, flipping the lid open and shut. When he saw the red silk and the long dark hair, he stopped. A slow, appreciative smirk spread across his face. He let out a low whistle.
Jace didn't move. He slowly lifted his gaze. His eyes were the color of a stormy ocean, dark and freezing. They locked onto Cora, stripping her down, analyzing her as if she were a hostile asset. The sheer weight of his stare made Cora's lungs seize.
She forced her legs to keep moving. She reached the table and gracefully set the tray down. She picked up the untainted glass of whiskey and slid it across the mahogany table toward Gus.
Gus leaned forward, his eyes dropping to her cleavage. "Well, hello. Did they upgrade the bottle service, or are you a special delivery?"
Cora ignored him completely. She didn't even blink in his direction.
She turned her head and met Jace's eyes.
He was watching her. Waiting. He knew she wanted something.
Cora didn't speak. She picked up the second glass-the one with the powder. She held Jace's gaze, her eyes burning with a silent, reckless challenge.
Then, she tipped her head back and drank it.
She downed the spiked whiskey in three long gulps. The liquid burned a fiery trail down her throat. A single drop escaped the corner of her mouth, tracing a line down her neck and disappearing into the deep V of her red dress.
Jace's jaw tightened. The hand resting on the table twitched, his fingers curling slightly inward. His eyes darkened, the cold indifference fracturing for a fraction of a second.
Cora slammed the empty glass back onto the tray. The sharp clack echoed over the jazz music. She gave Jace a slow, heavy-lidded smile-a promise and a threat all rolled into one.
The drug hit her bloodstream faster than she anticipated. A sudden, violent wave of heat bloomed in her stomach. The edges of her vision blurred. Her knees went weak.
She turned away before she collapsed. She forced herself to walk away from the table, her hips swaying, heading toward the private VIP suites at the back of the floor. Every step was a battle. Her blood felt like it was boiling.
Gus let out a bark of laughter. "Bold strategy. She's practically throwing herself at you, man. Easiest lay of the century."
Jace tossed his unlit cigar onto the table. "Stupidity," he muttered. But he noticed the slight tremor in her hand as she slammed the glass down. It wasn't the confidence of a seductress. It was a gamble. He decided to see the flop. Slowly, deliberately, he stood up.
Gus's jaw dropped as he watched his notoriously ruthless, untouchable friend button his suit jacket and follow the woman in the red dress down the hall.
Cora reached the heavy wooden door of the last suite. She pushed it open and stumbled inside. The room was pitch black and silent. She leaned against the back of the door, her chest heaving as she gasped for air. Her skin was on fire. The drug was tearing through her nervous system.
Footsteps echoed in the hall. Heavy. Deliberate.
The door was shoved open, pushing Cora forward. Jace stepped into the room. His massive frame blocked the light from the hallway. He reached behind him and locked the door with a loud, definitive click.
He looked down at her, his expression a mask of pure disgust. "You're pathetic," he said, his voice a low rumble. "Drugging yourself just to get into my bed? Is your life worth that little?"
Cora couldn't defend herself. She didn't want to. She sank to her knees, her legs finally giving out. She reached up with trembling hands and grabbed the perfectly creased fabric of his suit pants.
Jace flinched. He moved to kick her away, a reflex born of paranoia and disgust. But as his leg brushed against her bare arm, he froze.
She was burning up. Her skin was radiating an unnatural, terrifying heat.
Cora tilted her head back. Her eyes were glazed over, filled with a desperate, feverish haze. She looked up at the man who could destroy her, the man she was trying to destroy.
"Even pathetic women can carry kings," she choked out, her voice a broken rasp, her eyes burning with a defiant challenge that pierced straight through his armor.
Jace stared down at her. The disgust in his eyes warred with something darker, something violent and possessive that flared at her audacity. He didn't just see a broken woman; he saw a wild thing daring to claim a piece of his throne. He cursed under his breath. He bent down, wrapped his arms around her waist, and hoisted her off the floor, carrying her toward the massive bed in the center of the room.
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9.5
Gina was locked in Blackwood Asylum for five years, framed as a violent lunatic by her own wealthy family.
Her brother suddenly dragged her out, but not to save her. He forced her into an arranged marriage with Kerr Brooks, the billionaire emperor of New York, just to save the Rollins family's failing company.
Back at the estate, her parents treated her like a biohazard. They showered her adopted sister, Hailie, with love and luxury, while forcing Gina into a freezing servant's room. They threw a brutal prenuptial agreement at her face and threatened to leak a deepfake scandal video to the press if she didn't play the perfect bride. To ensure Gina's absolute ruin, Hailie even ordered a maid to spike her dinner with a massive dose of LSD. They were ruthlessly sacrificing her to a man who was secretly in a deep, unresponsive coma.
"She is just a tool, Hailie. Do not waste your pity on a broken thing."
Her mother's cold words echoed in the foyer. They looked at Gina's faded jumpsuit and vacant eyes, fully believing she was a heavily sedated pawn they could easily manipulate and discard.
But they didn't know Gina was a master hacker, a lethal underground surgeon, and the secret owner of the world's top luxury brand. She neutralized the poison in seconds and slipped into her comatose fiancé's heavily guarded ICU. Disabling the secret neuro-suppressants keeping him asleep, Gina smiled in the dark. If they wanted her to marry a corpse, she would use his empire to bury them all alive.
8.6
As the eldest daughter of the Sharp family, I was treated worse than a stray dog, while my younger sister Seraphina was their precious princess.
When the family needed someone to marry a dying billionaire heir, they naturally chose me to take her place.
To force my consent, my brothers held a peanut butter sandwich to my face—knowing it was a lethal allergy—while dangling my EpiPen just out of reach.
On speakerphone, my own mother sighed in annoyance.
"Let her die. It might be for the best."
I choked out an agreement just as my throat closed up. But the forced engagement broke my sacred mystical vow, causing me to violently cough up my own lifeblood.
Seeing the blood, Seraphina dramatically fainted. My brothers instantly carried her to the hospital, stepping over my dying body and leaving me to bleed out on the cold marble floor.
I had to use a forbidden blood rune, draining my last ounce of strength, just to survive the night.
Even the mystical Order I served offered no comfort, calling only to demand I secure ten billion dollars for them or forfeit my soul for eternity.
Abandoned by my blood family and my spiritual master, I was completely alone, left with nothing but a broken body and a ticking clock.
But they made one fatal mistake: they let me live.
I turned to the dying heir they forced me to marry, a man plagued by a dark curse only I could cure.
"I will be your wife, and I will save your life," I told him.
In exchange, I would use his unimaginable wealth and power to make everyone who threw me away pay the ultimate price.
7.9
Valerie Ashford, a girl who had just turned twenty-one, was introduced by her father to his business associates at a grand party, where she met a frightening, cold-blooded man.
That man was none other than her father's business partner, the CEO of a major corporation. He was taken with Valerie and had wanted her from the moment he first laid eyes on her.
For Rovano Morvane, whatever he desired was absolute and he had to have it, even by the worst means possible.
That night Valerie vanished without a trace and Rovano became the prime suspect, yet the Ashford family could not prove their allegations.
"P-please, I don't want to die, sir..." Valerie whispered so softly that Rovano had to bend down even lower.
"Didn't you just say you didn't care whether you were kidnapped or not? So shut your mouth." Rovano ordered.
Cold, Valerie felt the other side of the folding knife pressed against her cheek.
Rovano was going to mark Valerie.
It felt like something was missing if Rovano didn't take out his psychopathic urges on someone.
And this time, for the first time, he wanted a girl: Valerie Ashford.
Would Valerie's life end here?
9.1
I was supposed to be celebrating my twenty-first birthday and my engagement to the man I loved.
Instead, I was bleeding out in a crushed car, listening to my fiancé Greggory and my stepsister Alta laughing over the car's Bluetooth.
They had cut my brakes.
As the steering wheel crushed my shattered ribs, they cheerfully clinked their champagne glasses, celebrating their hostile takeover of my family's media empire.
I tried to scream for help, but my lungs wouldn't work.
Then, Alta's sweet voice delivered the final, fatal blow over the speaker.
"Your mother? I took care of her too."
I died in the freezing rain, my heart frozen with absolute hatred as I realized every touch and whispered promise was just a calculated step toward my murder.
I gave them everything, treating them like my closest family.
Why did they have to kill my innocent mother? Why did I blindly trust two vipers who only wanted to drain my blood?
Opening my eyes again, the smell of gasoline was gone.
I was back in my bedroom, safe and unharmed, on the exact day of my twenty-first birthday party.
The day the tragedy began.
Downstairs, my murderers were waiting to spring their trap, expecting me to blindly accept Greggory's proposal.
But this time, I put on a blood-red dress, grabbed the photo of their secret affair, and walked down the stairs to choose a new fiancé—the most ruthless billionaire in the room.
9.5
After her step sister ran away from her marriage to the billion dollar heir, they took Emerald Jane Campbell as a stand-in to fill in the position of her step sister. Forced by her evil mother, Emerald can't do anything but to follow. She was tied to the disabled billion dollar heir for three years and all she got was cold treatment from him. Years later, a kidnapper appears in their lives. The kidnapper threatens the life of Emerald until Jude Rafael Sanders- the billion-dollar decides to do what it takes to protect his wife, Emerald.
Secrets began to unravel one by one. But what if Jude finds out his beloved wife has something up beneath her sleeves? Find out how tension intensifies in their roller coaster marriage.
8.6
Eleanor Sinclair always knew her stepmother and stepsister were leeches, but she never expected their betrayal to reach into her private study.
In the dead of night, she caught the family's trusted nanny of twelve years photographing confidential trust documents. The mastermind paying her off was Lillian, Eleanor's stepmother, who had been secretly embezzling estate funds and bribing tutors to deliberately ruin the academic future of Eleanor's younger brother, the only legitimate heir.
Emboldened by their deceit, the parasites grew arrogant. Her stepsister, Isabelle, deliberately flaunted her secret affair with Eleanor’s billionaire fiancé, sobbing fake tears while waiting for Eleanor to suffer a humiliating nervous breakdown.
When the tension finally peaked, Lillian played the victim so perfectly that Eleanor's own father, a powerful U.S. Senator, stormed into the room with a raised hand, ready to strike his own daughter.
"You will apologize to your stepsister immediately! I will not have this family harmony destroyed by your petty jealousy!"
They actually expected her to be a weeping, heartbroken girl. They thought cheap hotel affairs and stolen pennies could outsmart the true Sinclair bloodline. Did they really believe a few fake tears and a weak-willed father could strip her of her empire?
Eleanor didn't feel anger; she felt the cold, detached fascination of a biologist observing doomed insects. She calmly pulled out the forensic audits, locked down the estate's exits, and prepared her stepmother's psychiatric commitment papers. The merciless purge of her family had officially begun.