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 7
The Maybach rolled smoothly through the streets of Beverly Hills.
The air inside the car was thick with tension. Carra sat as far away from Jory as possible, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.
"You had no right to do that," Carra seethed, glaring at the tinted window. "You treated me like a piece of property in front of my entire office."
Jory leaned back against the leather seat. He adjusted his Patek Philippe watch, completely unbothered.
"I slept with you," Jory stated, his voice flat. "That makes you mine to protect. I don't let my things get broken by trash."
Carra's mouth fell open. "Your things?"
Before she could scream at him, her phone erupted. It started vibrating violently against her thigh, pinging with dozens of notifications a second.
Carra pulled it out. Her screen was flooded with alerts from Twitter, TMZ, and Page Six.
She tapped the top notification.
A massive, high-definition photo filled her screen. It was her, wearing the soaking wet silk dress, being carried into the Century City parking garage by Jory Elliott.
The headline screamed in bold red letters: EK GROUP CEO'S MYSTERY LOVER! VANCE STERLING'S PR GIRLFRIEND TAKEN AWAY BY BILLIONAIRE BOSS!
Carra's blood ran cold. The PR nightmare was real. She was going to be branded as a gold-digger who cheated on Vance with his boss.
She frantically opened the Twitter app. She started typing a statement on her verified account, trying to explain that the photo was taken out of context.
A large hand reached across the seat and snatched the phone right out of her grip.
"Hey!" Carra yelled, lunging for it.
Jory held the phone out of her reach. His thumb quickly swiped across the screen, deleting her draft entirely. He locked the phone and tossed it onto the empty seat next to him.
"What are you doing?" Carra demanded, grabbing his forearm.
Jory easily pinned her wrists together with one hand, pushing her back against the seat.
"I am letting the fire burn," Jory said coldly. "This scandal perfectly covers up Vance's affair. The media is looking at us, not him. The stock price will stabilize."
Carra stared at him in horror.
"You leaked the photos," she whispered, the realization making her physically sick. "You planned this. You used me as a human shield for your company."
Jory didn't confirm or deny it. He just stared at her with those dead, calculating eyes.
"You're a monster," Carra choked out, tears of absolute frustration finally spilling over her lashes.
Suddenly, the phone on the seat started ringing.
It wasn't a notification ping. It was a phone call from an unknown, blocked number.
Jory released her wrists. Carra snatched the phone up and hit accept, needing a distraction from the man sitting next to her.
"Hello?" she snapped.
There was no greeting. Instead, a blood-curdling scream tore through the speaker.
"Carra! Help me! Oh God, please!"
It was Shane. Her younger half-brother.
Carra's heart stopped beating. "Shane? Shane, where are you?"
A rough, gravelly voice with a heavy Mexican accent took over the line.
"Is this the sister?" the man asked.
"Yes! Who is this? What have you done to him?" Carra screamed, her fingers digging into the phone case.
"Your brother has a gambling problem, chica," the man chuckled darkly. "He played at our tables. He lost. He owes us five hundred thousand dollars."
"Half a million?" Carra gasped, the air leaving her lungs.
"You have two hours to bring the cash," the man said, his voice dropping into a lethal threat. "Or I start cutting off his fingers. One by one. And then I mail them to your office."
Shane screamed again in the background, a wet, agonizing sound.
"Please! Don't hurt him! I don't have that kind of money!" Carra begged, hyperventilating.
The man rattled off an address for an abandoned warehouse in East Los Angeles.
"Two hours," the man repeated, and the line went dead.
The dial tone hammered against Carra's eardrum. She dropped the phone. Her chest heaved rapidly as she struggled to pull oxygen into her lungs.
She opened her banking app with trembling thumbs. Her checking account had exactly ten thousand dollars in it.
She was going to listen to her brother get tortured to death.
Carra lunged forward and slammed her fists against the glass partition.
"Frank! Stop the car! Stop the car right now!" she screamed hysterically.
Jory frowned. He reached out and grabbed her flailing arms, pulling her back into the seat.
"What happened?" Jory demanded, his voice sharp.
Carra fought him like a wild animal. She kicked and thrashed, tears streaming down her face.
"Let me go!" she sobbed. "I have to save him! Let me go!"
She refused to ask the man who had just used her for a PR stunt for half a million dollars. She would rather die.
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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.