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 8
The midday sun beat down on the red clay, baking the air until it was thick and hard to breathe.
Jaelynn stood at the baseline. She gritted her teeth against the tearing pain in her wrist. She tossed the neon yellow ball awkwardly into the air with her left hand.
She forced her swollen right hand to grip the racket and swing.
The moment the strings hit the ball, a violent, agonizing jolt of pain shot up her arm, straight into her skull.
The ball barely cleared the net, landing weakly out of bounds.
A few people in the stands let out cruel, mocking laughs.
Jaelynn's face was chalk white. Huge drops of cold sweat rolled down her temples, stinging her eyes. But she didn't stop. She bent down to pick up a second ball.
Dolph stood on the opposite side of the court. He didn't move to return the bad serve.
His dark eyes were locked onto her wrist, which was now swollen to the size of a baseball.
He watched her raise the racket again. A sudden, violent surge of anger and frustration exploded in his chest.
Dolph raised his arm and smashed his own racket violently into the red clay.
The loud, aggressive crack silenced the laughter in the stands instantly.
Dolph swept his cold, murderous gaze over the crowd, daring anyone to speak. "Game over," he announced.
Ortega panicked. He thought Dolph was furious at Jaelynn for ruining the match. Ortega jumped up, pointing a fat finger at her. "You useless piece of trash! Look what you did!"
Dolph ignored Ortega completely. He walked straight to the net, his eyes fixed on Jaelynn.
"Come with me," Dolph ordered. It wasn't a request.
Jaelynn blinked, stunned. She dropped the racket.
Under the shocked stares of the entire country club, she dragged her exhausted, aching body and followed Dolph off the court.
They walked in silence through the long, air-conditioned corridors of the club, heading down to the VIP underground parking garage. The silence between them was heavy and suffocating.
Dolph stopped in front of a sleek, black Aston Martin. He pressed a button on his keys, and the headlights flashed in the dim garage.
He pulled open the passenger door. "Get in. I'm taking you to the private clinic down the road to get an X-ray."
Jaelynn stood by the open door. She didn't move.
She knew how this worked. If he took her to the hospital, he would pay the bill, drop her off, and their transaction would be over. She would lose her leverage.
She looked up at his sharp, cold jawline.
Suddenly, she took a large step forward, invading his space. She backed him up until his legs hit the side of the car, trapping him between the open door and her body.
Dolph frowned, his muscles tensing. He opened his mouth to tell her to back off.
Before he could speak, Jaelynn pushed up on her tiptoes. She grabbed the collar of his expensive polo shirt with her good left hand, pulled his head down, and crashed her lips against his.
It was a desperate, messy kiss. She had no technique. Her lips were trembling, tasting of salty sweat and fear.
Dolph's entire body went rigid. His hands instantly came up, gripping her shoulders to push her away.
But as his fingers dug into her skin, he felt how violently she was shaking. He felt her swollen, broken right hand resting weakly against his chest, trying to hold onto him.
His hands stopped pushing.
Jaelynn felt his hesitation. She thought she had failed. A wave of crushing despair washed over her, and she started to pull her lips away.
The second she retreated, Dolph's control snapped.
His large hand slid to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair. He yanked her back, crushing his mouth down onto hers with terrifying force.
He kissed her like he wanted to devour her. His tongue forced her lips apart, sweeping through her mouth, taking everything.
He pushed her backward until her spine hit the cold metal of the Aston Martin. The freezing car body and his burning hot mouth sent a violent shock through her nervous system.
Dolph's hands slid down her back, gripping her waist. He lifted her slightly off the ground, pressing her body flush against his.
Jaelynn let out a muffled gasp. Her injured right wrist accidentally bumped hard against his solid chest.
Tears of pure physical agony sprang to her eyes.
Feeling her flinch, Dolph ripped his mouth away. He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving.
He looked down at her swollen lips and the tears in her eyes.
"Damn it," he cursed, his voice a raw, gravelly growl in the quiet garage.
He didn't mention the hospital again. A look of self-disgust flashed across his face. Angry at his own loss of control, he grabbed her by the waist, practically throwing her into the passenger seat, and leaned over to buckle her seatbelt.
Dolph walked around the car and slid into the driver's seat. He slammed his hand against the push-to-start button.
The Aston Martin's V12 engine roared to life like an angry beast. The tires screeched against the concrete as the car shot out of the parking garage.
Jaelynn leaned her head back against the leather seat. She looked at Dolph's tight jaw profile. She knew, in that moment, she had successfully torn off his mask of indifference.
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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.