Seducing My Ex's Ruthless Billionaire Uncle
My family's company went bankrupt, and my biological father was lying in the ICU, kept alive by machines that cost tens of thousands a day.
I thought it was just a tragic business failure, until I caught my mother in bed with my stepfather.
They had secretly transferred all our assets months ago, deliberately bankrupting the company and leaving my father to die.
To pay the hospital bills, my stepfather forced me to a private club, trying to sell me to a sleazy investor.
When I refused, he slapped me across the face, and my mother just looked at me with cold, dead eyes.
"Be realistic, Jaelynn. A woman's body is a tool. Use it to get what you need."
Later, right before my father's emergency surgery, my stepfather signed a Do Not Resuscitate order and froze the medical accounts.
"If you don't get on your knees and spread your legs for him, I will tell the hospital to pull your father's plug."
Standing in the freezing rain, covered in mud and blood, I stared at the astronomical hospital bill in my hand.
My own family had plotted to murder my father and sell me to the highest bidder. The betrayal shattered every ounce of sanity I had left.
I didn't cry or beg them anymore.
Instead, I pulled out a water-stained, gold-embossed business card.
It belonged to Dolph Valentine, the most ruthless billionaire in New York and my ex-fiancé's uncle.
If they wanted to destroy my life, I was going to sell my soul to the biggest monster of them all and drag them straight to hell.
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Chapter 7
The first set ended.
Dolph tossed his racket to a waiting ball boy without looking. He walked off the red clay court toward the shaded seating area, grabbing an ice-cold towel to wipe the sweat from the back of his neck.
His best friend, Boone Morgan, walked over and handed him a bottle of water. Boone's eyes swept over the crowd of wealthy spectators with a knowing smirk.
"Where's your date today, Dolph?" Boone teased, leaning against the fence. "Did the 'wildcat' from last night drain all your energy?"
Dolph took a long drink of water. His cold eyes drifted over to where Jaelynn was standing, currently having her waist gripped by Ortega.
"I came alone," Dolph said, his voice flat and loud enough to carry.
Ortega heard him. The fat investor's eyes lit up. He saw the ultimate opportunity to suck up to the billionaire.
Ortega stood up. He grabbed Jaelynn by the wrist and dragged her like a piece of luggage over to where Dolph was standing.
"Mr. Valentine!" Ortega smiled, his face greasy with sweat. "If you need a doubles partner to pass the time, please, borrow my girl. She plays well."
Ortega was offering Jaelynn up like a rented toy.
The surrounding trust-fund kids and businessmen heard the offer. A wave of low, dirty laughter rippled through the crowd. Everyone looked at Jaelynn like she was a cheap escort.
All the blood drained from Jaelynn's face. A wave of humiliation so thick she could barely breathe crashed over her.
She bit down hard on her lower lip, tasting blood again. But she didn't pull her arm away.
She knew this was her only chance to get back onto Dolph's radar in public. She had to prove she was useful.
Dolph didn't answer immediately. His dark, heavy gaze locked onto Jaelynn's pale, trembling face. He stared at her for three agonizing seconds.
Then, he casually raised an eyebrow. A silent permission.
Ortega beamed with joy. He shoved a spare tennis racket into Jaelynn's chest and pushed her hard between the shoulder blades. "Get on the court!"
Jaelynn stumbled forward. She gripped the handle of the racket, took a deep breath, and forced her stiff legs to walk out onto the baking hot red clay.
Just as her foot crossed the baseline, a violent figure burst out from the spectator stands.
It was Gordon.
His eyes were bloodshot. He was holding the white tennis jacket with the embroidered "J" in his fist, looking like a rabid dog.
Gordon marched right up to Jaelynn and threw the jacket violently into her face.
"You filthy whore!" Gordon hissed, his voice trembling with rage. "You're sleeping with everyone now?"
The entire tennis court went dead silent. The crowd watched in shock. Boone let out a low whistle, clearly enjoying the drama.
The metal zipper of the jacket scratched Jaelynn's cheek. She pulled the fabric away from her face and stared at her ex-fiancé. Her eyes were completely dead, devoid of any warmth.
"We broke off the engagement, Gordon," Jaelynn said, her voice eerily calm. "Who I play tennis with, or who I sleep with, is none of your business."
Her cold indifference shattered Gordon's fragile ego.
He lunged forward. His large hand clamped down on Jaelynn's right wrist-the hand holding the racket.
"I'm going to make you crawl back to me on your knees," Gordon snarled, squeezing her wrist with all his strength.
Jaelynn gasped in pain. She tried to yank her arm back.
She felt more than heard a sickening pop in her wrist. A white-hot, agonizing, blinding pain shot up her arm and straight into her brain. Her face turned the color of ash. Cold sweat instantly broke out across her forehead.
Gordon raised his other hand, ready to hit her.
"Let her go."
The voice came from the other side of the net. It was freezing cold, dripping with lethal authority.
Dolph stood there, holding his racket in one hand. His eyes were fixed on Gordon, radiating a terrifying, oppressive aura that silenced the entire court.
Gordon froze. He looked at his uncle's eyes and felt a primal fear. He slowly uncurled his fingers, dropping Jaelynn's wrist. He glared at her one last time before turning and storming off the court.
Jaelynn's right arm fell limply to her side. The racket dropped onto the clay. Her wrist was already swelling, turning a dark, ugly purple.
Ortega didn't ask if she was okay. He threw his hands up in the air. "You're ruining the mood! You're ruining Mr. Valentine's game!" he yelled at her.
Jaelynn ignored him. She reached over with her left hand and grabbed her injured right wrist, squeezing it to stop the shaking.
She bent down, using her awkward left hand to pick up the heavy racket.
She stood up straight. She looked across the net, locking eyes with Dolph.
"I can still play," she said. Her voice shook, but the words were crystal clear.
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9.2
She loved him until she lost herself.
Now, behind locked doors and shattered glass, she must learn to breathe again.
When she first met Lloyd, he was magnetic and intoxicating. The kind of man who turned every head when he entered a room, who spoke in promises sweet enough to taste. With him, she felt chosen, cherished, and safe.
But safety was an illusion, and love became a weapon.
And slowly, piece by piece, he dismantled her until nothing of the woman she once was remained.
Now institutionalized after a breakdown, she begins to piece together the brutal truth of what really happened in the shadows of their love story. Memories sting like open wounds: the manipulation disguised as tenderness, the apologies that blurred into threats, the desperate hope that tomorrow he'd be the man she fell for again.
Yet beneath the grief and the shame, a quiet rebellion stirs, a vow to reclaim her voice, her freedom, and her life. Because this is not just a story of how she fell apart. It is a story of how she rises.
Haunting, raw, and achingly intimate, Boys like him peels back the glittering mask of a toxic love affair to reveal the kind of darkness that hides in plain sight, and the unbreakable strength it takes to escape it.
9.2
Clara was drowning in student debt and barely making rent when she downloaded a fantasy mobile game to escape reality.
Inside the game, an exiled prince named Alex was freezing to death. Pitying him, she spent her last few dollars on microtransactions to fix his shelter and cure his poison.
But the game was far too real.
Every time she paid, the prince reacted. When she complained aloud about going broke, the in-game army suddenly halted, as if the prince had heard her voice.
Then, the terrifying real-world consequences hit.
Clara woke up to find her water glass and a box of Kleenex had vanished from her locked bedroom overnight.
She frantically searched the tiny apartment, her heart pounding in her chest.
She thought she was losing her mind. Had she thrown them out in her sleep? Was there a stalker hiding in her home?
How could physical objects just disappear into thin air behind a deadbolted door?
Until she looked at her nightstand.
Sitting exactly where her missing items used to be was a glowing, weightless crystal cup that defied all logic.
And on her laptop screen, the exiled prince was carefully holding her Kleenex box, offering a mountain of real gold on an altar.
She hadn't just downloaded a mobile game; she had opened a cross-dimensional trade route with a desperate future king.
7.5
I was Nyx, a top-tier covert operative. But when I opened my eyes, I was trapped in the unfamiliar, overweight body of a bullied girl named Eliza.
Before I could even process the body swap, the bedroom door splintered open. I was in bed with Julian Malone, a wealthy military heir, both of us heavily drugged. Cameras flashed wildly. It was a vicious setup to ruin his career, and I was the bait.
To save his family's reputation, Julian was forced to marry me. But the moment the wedding was over, he abandoned me. His elite family treated me like a disease. His mother froze my only bank account, trying to starve me into submission.
I even intercepted a private conversation between his parents.
"Once she's in a private facility, she loses all legal standing. We can sign anything we want on her behalf."
They planned to lock me up in a mental asylum and erase my existence entirely to get rid of the "trailer park trash."
To them, I was just a weak, pathetic pawn they could crush without a second thought. They thought they had backed a helpless girl into a corner.
They had no idea they had just declared war on a lethal weapon.
I didn't cry or beg. Instead, I bypassed their state-of-the-art security, cracked their safe, and stole the financial secrets that could destroy their entire empire.
"I want five hundred thousand dollars, or these files go to the IRS."
This time, I was playing by my own rules.
9.1
The best way to get back at a cheating bastard? Make him sick to his stomach for the rest of his life!
Days before her wedding, Corinne caught her fiancé cheating with his coworker in what she thought was their future home.
Furious, she tore everything apart, ended the engagement, and decided on a bold revenge plan.
To make him regret it for life, she set her sights on marrying his powerful uncle. Confident in her scheme, she tried to win over the cold, untouchable man, only to realize too late that she had mistaken his identity.
The man she married was far more dangerous than she imagined!
Corinne decided to make a quick escape. "Let's get a divorce. We're clearly not right for each other... "
He cornered her with a knowing smile, "Not right for each other? Funny, that's not what you said last night in bed. Want me to remind you how wrong you are?"
8.7
I was dying in a cold hospital bed, listening to the monitor count down my final seconds.
As a ghost, I watched my own funeral. My popular friends and wealthy family soon moved on, but one person stayed.
Cas Riley. The invisible outcast from the back of my history class.
He brought a white rose to my grave every single day, withering away until he collapsed on the frozen ground, dying of a broken heart for a girl who barely knew his name.
Opening my eyes again, the hospital smell was gone. I was reborn back in my high school classroom.
I immediately tracked him down, only to witness the brutal hell he was trapped in.
He was humiliated by a cruel foreman for pennies, violently slapped by his uncle over his sick mother's medical money, and forced into bloody street fights.
He was starving, covered in bruises, and completely alone.
When I tried to buy him medicine and step into his life to protect him, he violently pushed me away in the pouring rain.
"Stay out of my life! To protect you, I have to fight, and when I fight, I lose everything!"
He wasn't rejecting me out of hate. He was terrified that his dark, violent reality would drag me down with him.
Standing soaked in the rain, my resolve hardened like steel.
Gentle kindness wasn't going to save him from this hell.
To protect the boy who died for me, I had to become ruthless enough to tear down his entire rotten world and build him a new one.
7.5
After spending five grueling years securing the Madden Pack's empire, I thought my Alpha mate and I were finally building a perfect family.
But on my birthday, I returned home to find a thick, impenetrable wall of ice in our Mate bond.
Caden had completely shut me out to throw a lavish party for my half-sister, Adalynn.
He let Adalynn pollute our penthouse with her cheap perfume and brainwash my five-year-old daughter, Elara.
"Auntie Adalynn is a million times better than Mommy!"
Elara chirped happily to a camera, while Caden watched with a doting smile.
He publicly humiliated me, commanded the servants to ignore me, and deliberately fed Elara severe allergens just to spite my maternal rules.
When my pup ended up in the pack hospital gasping for air, Caden confiscated her tablet and roared at her to stop crying for the mother who "abandoned" her.
My heart shattered into a million irreparable pieces.
I couldn't understand how the man destined to protect my soul could twist my love into cruelty and use our helpless cub as a punching bag for his ego.
But the weeping, pathetic Luna died right there.
I calmly signed the divorce papers, surrendered all my assets, and walked out into the cold night.
Opening my encrypted laptop, I reclaimed my hidden identity as the global elite hacker "Ghost" and initiated a lethal protocol.
It was time to burn his entire world to the ground.