Sold To The Devil I Ruined
Fitzgerald Woodard was the "stray" I used to torment in prep school, a boy I once paid to kneel in the mud for my amusement. Now, the tables have turned, and he’s the billionaire who bought my father’s debt, dragging me into his mansion as a "personal asset" listed in a contract I never read.
He didn't just want the money back; he wanted to see me break. He stood over me in the rain and told me he owned the very machines keeping my father alive, and with one flick of his thumb, he could stop his breathing forever.
The nightmare escalated until I didn't recognize myself. He forced me to eat cold soup off the floor like an animal and gripped my hand over a heavy hammer, forcing me to crush a young guard's bones just to prove I was as much of a monster as he was. His childhood sweetheart, a nurse I once humiliated, stood in the shadows, whispering that I was nothing more than a used-up toy he was already bored of.
I lay on the cold marble, shivering from a fever he refused to treat, realizing that the curse he placed on me years ago had finally come true. Every act of cruelty I had ever committed was being repaid with interest, and the man I once looked down on was now the only god I had left to pray to.
Suddenly, he threw me out into the freezing night with nothing but rags on my back and a shattered phone. The hospital called with an ultimatum: fifty thousand dollars by noon, or they pull the plug on my father’s life support.
Standing barefoot on the biting asphalt, I watched his black SUV disappear into the dark. I have nine hours to save the only person I love, and only one way to get the money. I have to go back and kneel before the devil I created.
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Chapter 6
The dress was black. It was cut so low in the front it barely covered her, and the back was non-existent. It was a second skin of silk and shame.
Elenora stood in front of the mirror. The makeup artist Fitzgerald had hired had covered the bruise on her cheek and the cut on her forehead. She looked beautiful. She looked like a doll.
She stepped into the hallway.
The usual guard wasn't there. It was a new kid. Silas. He couldn't be more than twenty. He had acne scars on his chin and nervous eyes.
When he saw Elenora, he blushed. He looked at the floor.
"Follow me, Miss," he mumbled.
Elenora walked slowly. The drugs the doctor had given her made the world feel sharp and jittery.
"Please," she whispered.
Silas stiffened.
"This dress... it's too tight. I feel faint."
She leaned against the wall, putting a hand to her forehead. It wasn't entirely an act.
Silas reached out to steady her. "Miss? Are you okay?"
His touch was gentle. It was the first gentle thing she had felt in days.
"Please," she said, grabbing his wrist. "I just need a phone. One minute. My father... he's dying."
Silas looked at the camera in the corner of the ceiling. He looked at her tear-filled eyes.
"I can't," he whispered. "The Boss..."
"He's going to kill my father," Elenora sobbed. "Please."
Silas wavered. He was young. He saw a damsel in distress, not a prisoner.
He pulled her behind a large marble pillar, a blind spot.
"Thirty seconds," he hissed, pressing a burner phone into her hand.
Elenora's fingers flew across the keypad. She dialed Jered, the family lawyer.
Pick up, pick up, pick up...
"Hello? Jered's voice. "Elenora? My God, the police have a file open-"
"Jered, I'm... he has me. You have to find-"
The phone was ripped from her hand.
Elenora spun around.
Fitzgerald was there. He wasn't looking at the phone. He was looking at Silas.
Silas dropped to his knees. His face went gray. "Boss, I-"
Fitzgerald crushed the phone in his hand. Plastic cracked. Glass shattered. He dropped the debris on the floor.
He grabbed Elenora by the back of her neck. His fingers tangled in her hair, yanking her head back. He pushed her face against the cold stone of the pillar.
"I told you," he whispered into her ear. "No secrets."
He looked at Silas.
"Take him downstairs."
Two massive guards appeared from the shadows. They grabbed Silas. The boy started screaming.
"No!" Elenora yelled, struggling against Fitzgerald's grip. "It was me! I forced him!"
Fitzgerald laughed. It was a dark, ugly sound.
"Defending your new boyfriend already?"
Jealousy, hot and irrational, poured off him. She had begged him. A nobody guard.
Fitzgerald watched Silas get dragged away. He turned Elenora's face so she had to watch too.
"The dinner is cancelled," he said. "We have a lesson to learn."
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7.9
Elena Crane wakes up in a hospital bed after barely surviving a resort fire, only to discover the devastating truth. The kidney she donated to her husband Leo three days ago wasn't for him. It was for his mistress, Lydia. Worse, she overhears Leo instructing a doctor to kill her within five days and make it look like surgical complications so he can collect two hundred million dollars in life insurance. Their entire five year marriage was an elaborate scheme to steal her organs and murder her for money.
What Leo and Lydia don't know is that Elena is actually Roberta Alfred, the legendary jewelry designer and billionaire heiress who abandoned her empire for love. After enduring multiple murder attempts, including being locked in a morgue and losing her uterus to forced hysterectomy, Elena escapes. She divorces Leo, claims the insurance money herself, and returns home to reclaim her identity and her family's billion dollar empire.
9.0
Ashlyn was supposed to be just a fragile college student, selling her rare blood to a vicious crime syndicate enforcer to keep his dying sister alive.
But the dynamic shattered when Alex returned from a two-month disappearance. He stepped into the penthouse covered in dirt and blood, sporting a horrific, jagged knife wound slashed completely across his face.
Knowing exactly how to exploit his insecurities, Ashlyn played the role of the terrified victim to perfection. She screamed, pushed against his chest, and called him a terrifying monster. Humiliated and enraged by her blatant disgust, Alex violently smashed a marble table and kicked her out. He forced her out into a freezing, torrential rainstorm without a coat, vowing to kill her if she ever showed her face again.
What the ruthless enforcer didn't know was that her pathetic, trembling tears were a flawless, calculated lie. She wasn't a helpless, greedy girl. She was a cold-blooded corporate mastermind hiding from a family of elite assassins. She desperately needed his impenetrable penthouse fortress to stay alive, and she knew the only way to secure her place wasn't to ask for it, but to make him beg for her return.
Three days later, his sister's organs began to fail, and the hospital's blood bank ran dry.
"I'll pay you whatever you want. Just get here."
Listening to the desperate, broken voice of the monster over her burner phone, Ashlyn smiled coldly in the dark. The trap had snapped shut, and he had just handed her all the power.
7.4
Faith Neal had vanished, burying her powerful past under layers of anonymity as an ER doctor. She was secretly dismantling the empire of the man she'd left behind, brick by costly brick, from the shadows. Until he walked into her trauma room, bleeding from a bullet wound, shattering her carefully built world with a single, dangerous glance.
Her heart hammered: Earl Hampton, the ruthless CEO she abandoned, was on the gurney, demanding only "Faith."
His presence shattered her new life. He accused her of running, his touch a possessive reminder. Soon after, old rivals Chad Miller and Tiffany Vance ambushed her, humiliating her, sparking a fight.
Panic and anger flared as Chad mocked her, calling her a "bitch." Shame burned, but a deeper fear gripped her – the architect of her revenge was bleeding in her ER, and he knew.
Before Chad could inflict more harm, Earl reappeared, violently intervening.
"I'm the man who's going to reclaim his assets," he rumbled. "I found you. I'm not losing you again."
7.5
On her eighteenth birthday, Aria Hale finally feels her wolf stir... just in time to attend the mating ceremony where the Moon Goddess will reveal her destined mate. She has spent her whole life as the pack's weakest link – her wolf sealed, her power mocked, her future uncertain. But one touch will change everything. When her eyes meet those of Liam Blackwood, the cruel, golden future Alpha of Nightfall Pack, the bond snaps into place. He is her fated mate. Her miracle. Her salvation. And he rejects her on the spot. Humiliated, heartbroken, and banished, Aria thinks her story ends there... until a black car stops on the edge of the territory and the man inside offers her a choice. Damien Blackwood. Liam's older brother. Cold. Untouchable. A billionaire who left the pack years ago-and the only wolf Liam has ever feared. "Come with me," Damien says. "I'll give you a home, protection... and a chance to become strong enough that they will all kneel. "Under his roof, Aria's "weak" wolf begins to awaken. Dark secrets unravel. And the truth emerges: she is not just any wolf. She is a hidden Omega Queen. When danger threatens the pack that rejected her, Liam comes crawling back, begging for a second chance. But Aria is no longer the powerless girl he threw away. She must choose: the mate who broke her, or the brother who rebuilt her-and the throne the Moon Goddess always meant for her to claim.
8.2
My son Leo had just died, and the silence in our cramped apartment felt like a physical weight crushing my chest.
Before I could even process the grief, my husband, Preston, kicked the door open and threw divorce papers onto the table.
Behind him stood Gloria, wearing a pristine cashmere coat and the diamond pendant Preston swore he had pawned to pay for Leo's hospital bills.
"Sign it," Preston said coldly. "You get nothing."
Gloria smirked, mocking me for failing to keep my sick child alive. When I tore up the papers in a blinding rage, Preston slapped me to the floor.
Then, my biological mother, Jerilyn, walked in. Instead of helping me, she pulled a serrated kitchen knife from her bag and plunged it deep into my stomach.
As I lay dying in a pool of my own blood, Jerilyn leaned in and whispered the devastating truth.
"I swapped you in the nursery. Gloria is my blood, and you belong in a Manhattan mansion. I can't let you ruin her life."
Until my lungs stopped working, I was consumed by a roaring, violent hatred. My own mother had traded my life of privilege for poverty, let my son die, and then murdered me to protect the fake.
Opening my eyes again, the dingy ceiling and the agonizing pain were gone.
I was sitting at a wooden desk, surrounded by the chatter of teenagers.
I was back in high school. And this time, I was going to make them pay.
8.3
My five-year-old daughter was turning blue in my arms, her body rigid with a 104-degree fever. I called my billionaire husband, Clifton, dozens of times as I rushed to the hospital, but he declined every single call.
While I was screaming at doctors and fighting to save our child’s life, a news alert flashed on my phone. Clifton was at the Met Gala, looking devastatingly handsome as he intimately draped his tuxedo jacket over the shoulders of his mistress, Eleanora.
The nightmare didn't end at the hospital. Clifton used a secret clause in our prenup to snatch Lily from her bed and move her to a private facility without my consent. When I finally found her, my own daughter shrank away from me in terror. "Go away, bad Mommy!" she sobbed, while the mistress fed her oatmeal and whispered that I was the one who made the doctors hurt her.
Clifton stood by and watched, telling me I was too "hysterical" to be a mother. But then I discovered the real reason they were hiding her. My husband was illegally using my late mother’s rare bone marrow samples to treat Eleanora’s secret blood disorder. Now that those samples are failing, he is taking Lily to a secluded castle in Germany to harvest our daughter’s marrow for his mistress.
I sat in the dark, watching them play happy family with the child they plan to sacrifice. I realized then that my marriage wasn't just a lie—it was a biological harvest. They think I’m just a broken trophy wife who doesn't understand the science they are using to destroy me.
They have no idea that I am "Ghost," the anonymous medical genius behind the very research they are trying to steal. As we board the private jet to Germany, I’ve stopped crying and started calculating. If they want to play with life and death, I’ll show them exactly what happens when a mother stops being a victim and starts being a predator.