Rejecting The Billionaire's Contract Marriage
I was the devoted PR manager and secret girlfriend of A-list actor Vance Sterling for three years.
Just minutes after he promised me a romantic dinner, I caught him sleeping with a wealthy Los Angeles socialite.
When I confronted him, he didn't apologize. Instead, he mocked my status, froze my bank accounts, and left me completely homeless on the rainy streets of the city.
Blacklisted in Hollywood and utterly destitute, I ended up having a reckless, revenge-fueled one-night stand with the socialite's ruthless billionaire fiancé, Jory Elliott.
But my nightmare had just begun. My younger brother accrued a half-million-dollar gambling debt with a brutal cartel, and they threatened to chop off his fingers.
Jory stepped in and paid the ransom, only for my brother to beg the billionaire for more gambling money, calling me a selfish bitch for not milking him dry.
Then, Jory threw a marriage agreement at my face.
"Act as my devoted wife for two years, and I will wipe the debt and give you ten million dollars."
I gave my youth to an actor who discarded me like trash, and my own flesh and blood only saw me as a walking ATM.
Did these powerful men really think my dignity was just another corporate asset to be bought and traded?
I looked into the cold, calculating eyes of the billionaire who thought he owned me.
I threw the contract right at his chest and stepped out of his Maybach into the freezing rain.
I would rather rot in the gutter than be a pet bought with a checkbook.
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Chapter 3
"Who's out there?" Vance's voice barked from inside the suite.
Carra heard the frantic rustling of clothes. Panic seized her throat. She tried to step back, wanting to run, wanting to hide.
Jory's hand flattened against the middle of her back. He didn't let her retreat. Instead, he reached out and shoved the heavy double doors wide open.
The doors slammed against the walls.
Carra was thrust into the bright light of the suite.
Vance was standing by the sofa, frantically buttoning his silk shirt. Eloisa was huddled in the corner, clutching a throw blanket to her chest, her eyes wide with terror.
Vance's panic vanished the second he recognized Carra. His face twisted into an ugly mask of rage.
"Are you insane?" Vance yelled, marching toward her. "Are you tracking me now? You psycho!"
Carra didn't flinch. She raised her phone, the screen still displaying the video she had just taken. Her voice came out eerily calm, stripped of all emotion.
"I don't need to track you, Vance. You left a trail of garbage all over the city."
Vance glanced at the screen. He swallowed hard, but his ego refused to let him back down.
"You don't understand anything," Vance sneered, pointing a finger at her. "This is a PR rehearsal. We are doing a chemistry read for the new Gucci campaign. You're my publicist, you should know this!"
Carra felt a sick laugh bubble up in her throat.
"A chemistry read?" she repeated. "With your pants unzipped?"
"You're suffocating me!" Vance shouted, trying to flip the blame. "You control my schedule, my diet, my life! You're just a glorified assistant, Carra. Know your place!"
Carra's whole body shook. Tears burned the back of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
Then, the sound of slow, deliberate footsteps echoed from the doorway.
Jory Elliott walked out of the shadows and stepped into the room. The air pressure in the suite instantly plummeted.
Vance stopped yelling. His jaw dropped. He stared at the man who owned the very studio that paid his salary. The blood rushed out of Vance's face, leaving him looking like a corpse.
Eloisa let out a pathetic squeak. She dropped to her knees on the carpet.
"Jory..." Eloisa whimpered, her voice trembling.
Jory didn't even look at her. He reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket. He pulled out a folded piece of paper and tossed it onto the glass coffee table.
It landed with a soft slap.
"Read it," Jory commanded.
Vance slowly picked up the paper. His eyes scanned the text. It was a medical document from a private clinic in Beverly Hills.
Eloisa Lindsey. Eight weeks pregnant.
Carra felt like she had been punched in the stomach. Three years. She and Vance had been together for three years, meticulously careful because he said a baby would ruin his career. And now, this.
"Mr. Elliott, please," Vance stammered, dropping the paper as if it burned him. He fell to his knees right there on the rug. "I didn't know she was your fiancée. I swear to God. It was a mistake."
"The EK Group does not tolerate scandals that humiliate its CEO," Jory said, his voice flat and deadly. "You are a dead man in this town, Sterling."
"No! Please!" Vance crawled forward. "I'll do anything. I'll pay you. I'll do whatever you want!"
Jory looked down at him with absolute disgust.
"I will not tolerate my name being dragged through the mud by a failed engagement. I dictate the narrative, not the tabloids," Jory said coldly. "We pivot."
Vance blinked, confused.
"You will announce to the press tomorrow that you and Eloisa are deeply in love and expecting a child," Jory dictated. "And I will take Carra. I need a wife to pacify my family and the board, and you need a miracle to survive this. We spin it as a mutual parting of ways. A tragic romance."
Vance didn't even hesitate for a second.
"Yes. Yes, of course," Vance nodded frantically. He turned to Carra, his eyes hard. "Carra, you hear that? You're out. You're too plain for me anyway. You were just a stepping stone. Get out of my way."
The last shred of Carra's heart turned to ash.
She walked up to Vance. She didn't yell. She didn't cry.
She raised her right arm, pulling it back as far as she could, and slapped him across the face with every ounce of strength in her body.
The crack sounded like a gunshot.
Vance's head snapped to the side. A drop of blood instantly welled up at the corner of his mouth.
"I quit," Carra said, her voice dripping with venom. "And we are done."
She turned on her heel. She kept her spine perfectly straight and walked out of the suite without looking back.
Jory watched her go. He adjusted his cufflink, shot Vance a look that promised death, and followed her out.
Carra made it to the elevator. She punched the button. The doors slid open, and she stepped inside.
The second the metal doors closed, cutting them off from the world, her knees gave out.
She slid down the wall of the elevator, gasping for air as the adrenaline crashed.
Jory stood over her. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a dark blue silk handkerchief that smelled of cedarwood, and silently held it out to her.
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8.3
Betrayed at the altar. Replaced by her own sister.
On what should have been the happiest day of her life, Amara loses everything-her fiancé, her dignity, and her future.
But that same night, a dangerous man steps out of the shadows with an offer she can't refuse.
Marriage. Power. Revenge.
Now bound to a ruthless CEO, Amara is ready to destroy everyone who betrayed her.
There's just one problem...
Her new husband knows more about her past than he should.
And the closer she gets to revenge-
the more she realizes she may have married the man who ruined her in the first place.
7.8
Alexis signed the divorce papers, leaving her with no assets, no alimony, and just the clothes on her back.
To forget her abusive husband Carlos, she got drunk and bought a high-end gigolo for the night with her last 800 dollars.
But the man she slept with wasn't an escort. He was Jarrett Hughes, a ruthless billionaire CEO.
And while she was gone, her ex-husband was busy destroying her entire life.
Carlos framed her with fake photos of her cheating to justify the penniless divorce.
Then came the real nightmare.
Carlos and her own aunt secretly drained her family's corporate accounts, driving her father to jump off a building.
At the hospital, her grieving mother blamed her for the tragedy, violently attacking her in the ER.
To top it off, her cousin Josie—who was secretly sleeping with Carlos—held her father's ashes hostage.
"Crawl on your knees and pick it up, or the ashes go in the river," Josie sneered, throwing cash into the freezing slush.
Stripped of her marriage, her father, and her dignity, Alexis sat bleeding in the snow.
She couldn't understand why the people she loved most had coordinated such a brutal slaughter against her.
But Carlos and Josie made one fatal mistake.
They didn't know the "gigolo" Alexis had accidentally bought was the most powerful man in New York.
Alexis looked at the towering billionaire standing behind her, a vengeful fire burning in her eyes.
"I need you to get my father's ashes back," she said, pulling him into a kiss right in front of her ex-husband. "I don't care what it takes."
7.7
Aida's life is already complicated.
A controlling boyfriend.
A job that drains her.
A heart tired of giving more than it gets.
So the last thing she expects is Mike-the quiet, handsome "new trainee" who walks into the office with a mysterious calm and an unexpected kindness.
He's humble. Soft-spoken. Nothing like the men she's used to.
But something about him feels... different.
Dangerous.
Safe.
All at once.
As their friendship blooms, jealous eyes begin to watch.
Whispers spread.
Fake friends interfere.
And even Mike's family stands against them.
Two hearts drawn to each other.
One relationship already falling apart.
Secrets that can destroy everything.
In a company filled with gossip, power, and hidden agendas,
Aida and Mike must decide-
is this friendship worth the risk?
Or will the growing tension ruin them before they even begin?
9.0
Emily's life was already planned-obedient daughter, perfect fiancée, quiet future.
Then she crossed the wrong line.
Adrian Carter is everything she shouldn't want-her fiancé's uncle, a ruthless billionaire, and a man who sees straight through her carefully built facade.
One night changes everything.
And Adrian has no intention of letting her go.
9.1
Eight years ago, Lena Hale was a second-year university student who trusted the wrong moment with her entire life.
Adrian Vale was in his final year-brilliant, disciplined, already learning how to rule rather than feel. To Lena, he was safety. To Adrian, she was the one weakness he allowed himself.
Until one night destroyed everything.
Adrian saw her in a position he could not forgive.
Something that looked deliberate.
Something that felt like betrayal carved into his bones.
He didn't ask for the truth.
She never got the chance to give it.
They separated broken, bleeding, and unfinished-and the damage followed them for eight years.
When they meet again, there is no tenderness left.
Lena is older now. Quieter. Cornered by debt that doesn't negotiate and men who collect pain instead of money. Survival forces her into one final humiliation-standing in for her best friend on a single escort assignment. One night. One paycheck. One way to keep breathing.
She never expects Adrian to be the man watching.
Adrian Vale is no longer capable of doubt. He is a billionaire built on precision, control, and a resentment he never questioned. Power has stripped him of mercy. When he sees Lena again-dressed for another man, standing exactly where he believes she chose to stand-his judgment finalizes.
She betrayed him once.
Now she's proving it.
He doesn't ask questions. He doesn't want explanations. He wants confirmation-and control.
Money becomes a weapon.
Silence becomes obedience.
And Lena learns just how expensive survival can be.
But Adrian's empire is cracking. His mother is dying, and her deal is brutal in its simplicity: marriage in echange for another round of chemo.
What begins as punishment becomes proximity. What begins as resentment mutates into obsession. And beneath Adrian's certainty lurks a truth so corrosive it could dismantle everything he built.
This is not a love story.
It is not forgiveness.
It is power colliding with memory.
Control strangling truth.
And two people bound together by a lie that refuses to stay buried.
Because some love stories don't burn slowly.
They detonate.
And when the truth comes out...
nothing survives intact.
8.8
Alaia Dudley spent her life playing the devoted partner, completely unaware that her fiancé Austen was sleeping with another woman.
She thought the worst he could do was break her heart, until she found herself pinned to a cold operating table.
Austen held her down with a cruel smirk while a scalpel sliced through her sternum.
They cracked her chest open while she was still fully conscious.
The agonizing pain of her heart being cut out burned into her nerve endings.
She realized then that to him, she was never a lover—just a spare organ, a boring piece of wood to be discarded the second his true love needed it.
She died in excruciating agony, choking on her own blood while the man she loved walked away with her heart.
Until her last breath, she didn't understand why she had to suffer so brutally.
Why did she waste her life begging for a monster's attention? Why did they get a happy ending while she was carved up like an animal?
But then, ice-cold water flooded her lungs, and Alaia violently broke the surface of her bathwater.
Her trembling fingers touched her smooth, flawless chest. No scars. Her heart was still beating.
The date on her phone glared back at her: it was exactly five years ago.
Tonight was the exact night Austen first took his mistress to a hotel room.
This time, she wouldn't just expose them. She would use Wall Street's most terrifying tyrant as her personal weapon to strip them of everything they had.