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Rejecting My Ruthless Billionaire Fiancé Novel Cover

Rejecting My Ruthless Billionaire Fiancé

For ten years, Aurora was abandoned by her wealthy family to rot in the countryside. When she finally returned, there was no warm welcome. The Lott family only brought her back to replace her adopted sister in an arranged marriage with Damian Yates, a notoriously violent, crippled billionaire, just to save their bankrupt company. Her grandmother mocked her as uneducated trash. Her fake sister feigned disgust at her very presence. When her biological father desperately tried to stop them from sending his daughter to her death, the family turned on him. Her grandmother struck her father across the face, kicked the three of them out of the manor into the freezing rain, and arrogantly declared they would starve on the streets by nightfall. They thought Aurora was just a helpless, pathetic hillbilly who would quietly accept being sold as livestock. They had no idea that over the past decade, she had survived the darkest corners of the world, becoming a lethal operative with unimaginable power. Standing in the cold rain, Aurora didn't shed a single tear. She calmly pulled out her encrypted phone, personally canceled the billionaire's marriage contract, and ordered her hacker to completely freeze the Lott family's accounts. "Total financial annihilation. Burn them to the ground." But as she watched her abusers' legacy crumble, a classified file arrived on her phone, revealing that the very billionaire she just rejected was tied to her mother's unsolved murder. The real hunt was just beginning.
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Chapter 2

Aurora drove with one hand, the Jeep's tires rolling off muddy mountain roads onto the smooth asphalt of Redwood City's wealthiest district. She braked at the towering wrought-iron gates of the Lott Estate and pressed the intercom.

"Aurora Lott."

The security guard in the booth looked up. Disgust flickered across his face as he took in her cheap, damp clothes and the beat-up Jeep. The gates swung open.

She parked the dirty vehicle between a pristine Bentley and a custom Porsche. It sat there like a piece of scrap metal washed up on a white-sand beach. She stepped out, heavy combat boots hitting the marble steps, and scanned the excessive luxury of the mansion with cold, unimpressed eyes.

The heavy oak doors swung open. The blinding glare of a massive crystal chandelier made her squint. The head butler immediately stepped into her path, looking down his nose.

"Miss, you need to remove those boots. You are tracking mud onto the Persian rugs."

Aurora walked right past him. Her muddy boots sank into the expensive fabric, leaving a trail of dark, wet footprints across the foyer.

She strode into the main living room.

Eleanor Lott, a stiff old woman with silver hair swept into a severe chignon, sat on a velvet sofa, sipping black tea from a porcelain cup. She heard the heavy footsteps and looked up. Her eyes raked over Aurora like a barcode scanner, cataloging the cheap trench coat and the unapologetic posture.

Eleanor slammed her teacup onto the saucer. The clatter echoed through the room.

Stella Lott, the adopted daughter, sat beside her. She was blonde, wearing a pale pink designer dress that fit her like a second skin. She didn't reach for a handkerchief. Instead, a perfectly sweet smile bloomed on her face, and she leaned closer to the matriarch.

"Grandma, the air is a bit damp today, isn't it?" Stella's voice was soft but pitched to carry. "It reminds me of that wet earth smell from the deep countryside. It must bring back such vivid memories for Aurora."

She turned wide, innocent eyes toward the doorway. "Aurora, was life in the trailer park really that hard? You look... exhausted."

Aurora shoved her hands into her coat pockets. She stood tall, looking down at the two of them, a cold, mocking smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.

Eleanor's face tightened. "You have no manners. No breeding. You are an absolute embarrassment to the Lott name."

Aurora raised an eyebrow, her voice flat. "A family that threw me out ten years ago wants to lecture me about breeding?"

The words hit like a slap. Eleanor shot up from the sofa, her finger jabbing at Aurora's face. "You ungrateful bastard!"

Stella quickly stood, wrapping her arms around Eleanor to support her. She looked at Aurora with wide, innocent eyes, throwing fuel on the fire. "Grandma, please calm down. Sister probably just picked up these vulgar habits from the bottom of society. She doesn't know any better."

Aurora's eyes went lethal. She took one slow step forward.

The sheer pressure radiating off her made Stella's breath catch. Stella stumbled backward before her brain could catch up, her lower back slamming hard against the sharp edge of the glass coffee table. She gasped in pain. Tears instantly welled up in her eyes, playing the perfect victim.

Eleanor gasped and pulled Stella behind her. "You savage! This is not your filthy slum! You will not act like a wild animal in my house!"

Aurora was already bored. She cut straight to the point. "Where is my father, Kevin?"

Eleanor let out a harsh laugh. "That useless failure? He's living in the rundown guest house at the edge of the property. Where he belongs."

Aurora's jaw clenched. Cold anger twisted in her stomach.

Stella peeked out from behind Eleanor, rubbing her back. "Since you are back, Aurora, there is a very important family obligation you need to fulfill."

Eleanor sat back down, smoothing her skirt. "You will fulfill the family's marriage pact."

Aurora nearly laughed. Breaking that exact pact was one of the reasons she'd returned. But her face stayed blank. She waited for them to show their hand.

"The Lott family does not feed useless mouths," Eleanor stated. "This marriage is the only value you have to pay us back for our protection."

Aurora's gaze swept the room, taking in the suffocating smell of old money and rotting morals. Her eyes held pure disgust.

She didn't reject the demand. She simply turned her back. "I'm going to see my father."

She walked out, her heavy boots echoing down the hallway. Stella watched the muddy footprints on the rug, a vicious, calculating gleam flashing in her teary eyes.

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