Substitute Marriage: Marrying The Disabled Billionaire
To save my toxic family's bankrupt company, I was sold for fifty million dollars to marry Arch Rush III, a notoriously ruthless and paralyzed billionaire.
Because of my severe face blindness, I couldn't even recognize my new husband. I was just a cheap, replaceable pawn. Yet, while my own parents physically abused me and treated me like livestock, my terrifying new husband actually protected me.
But entering the Rush family estate was like stepping into a snake pit. His aristocratic relatives mocked my cheap clothes and even tried to disfigure me with boiling tea.
To further humiliate me in front of a world-renowned neurologist, his grandmother pointed a bony finger at me.
"Go massage his muscles, this is your daily duty now."
Arch glared at me with a lethal warning, but I had no choice. Trembling, I pressed my hands into his thigh.
My heart instantly dropped. Beneath his expensive suit, there was no soft, withered flesh. The muscle contours were tight, dense, and incredibly firm.
How could a man completely paralyzed from the waist down have the legs of an athlete?
Before I could process the terrifying truth, my strong fingers dug into a nerve cluster. Under my touch, his "dead" muscle violently twitched.
The doctor dropped his pen in absolute shock, and I realized I had just accidentally exposed the ruthless billionaire's deadliest secret.
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Chapter 7
Hank and Sherry burst through the attic door.
They froze, staring at the scene in horror. Arleen was sitting in a puddle of dirty water, her expensive gown ruined, sobbing hysterically. Chrissy stood over her, holding a duffel bag and a dog leash.
"My baby!" Sherry screamed.
She threw herself onto the wet floor, wrapping her arms around Arleen. She snapped her head up, her face twisted into a mask of pure hatred.
"Are you insane?" Sherry shrieked at Chrissy. "You attacked your sister!"
Hank didn't waste time with words. His face turned purple with rage. He lunged forward, raising his heavy, calloused hand, aiming a brutal strike right at Chrissy's temple.
Chrissy instinctively squeezed her eyes shut. She tightened her grip on her bag and braced her body for the impact.
The Maybach had pulled away minutes ago, but the piercing sound of Arleen's shriek had cut through the quiet night. Arch, who had ordered Ray to circle the block while he reviewed a forgotten legal document, heard the scream through the cracked window. He tilted his head a fraction of an inch. Mitch didn't need a word; he was already moving.
It never came.
A deafening crash echoed through the house.
The flimsy wooden front door flew open under the force of four shoulders. The peeling frame splintered instantly, the cheap lock snapping as the door slammed against the interior wall.
Hank's hand stopped in mid-air.
Everyone in the attic froze, their eyes wide with terror, staring toward the open doorway.
The sound of heavy, synchronized combat boots thundered up the narrow, creaking wooden staircase. The footsteps carried a terrifying, suffocating weight.
Four massive men dressed in identical black suits flooded into the tiny attic. They moved with military precision, instantly shoving Hank and Sherry into the corner of the room, trapping them against the wall.
Then, Mitch Nowak appeared in the doorway, slightly out of breath from carrying the chair up step by step.
He pulled the custom carbon-fiber wheelchair into the room.
Arch Rush III sat perfectly still in the chair. His tailored suit didn't have a single wrinkle. His dark eyes swept the room, radiating a cold, lethal energy that dropped the temperature in the attic by ten degrees.
Hank's knees visibly shook. He lowered his hand immediately.
Arch's gaze bypassed the terrified parents and locked onto Chrissy. He took in her pale face, her defensive posture, and the way she was clutching her bag like a shield.
"Mr. Vega," Arch said.
His voice wasn't loud, but it commanded the absolute obedience of a king addressing a peasant.
"It seems your family's idea of hospitality involves assaulting my wife."
Hank swallowed hard. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
"Mr. Rush!" Hank stammered, his voice cracking. "You misunderstand! It was just a silly argument between sisters! They were just playing around!"
"Playing around," Arch repeated softly.
He slowly turned his head. His dark eyes locked onto Arleen, who was trying to hide behind her mother's legs.
Arleen whimpered. The look in Arch's eyes made her feel like she was about to be executed.
Arch lifted his right hand. He tapped his index finger against the armrest twice.
Tap. Tap.
Mitch moved instantly.
The bodyguard stepped forward, reached down, and grabbed a fistful of Arleen's perfectly styled hair.
Arleen screamed like a slaughtered pig as Mitch violently dragged her across the floorboards and forced her to her knees directly in front of Chrissy's shoes.
Hank and Sherry watched in horror, but they didn't dare make a sound. They were terrified.
"Apologize," Arch ordered. One word. No emotion.
Arleen was sobbing so hard she could barely breathe. She stared at Chrissy's worn-out sneakers, completely stripped of her dignity.
"I'm sorry," Arleen choked out, tears mixing with her makeup. "I'm sorry, Chrissy. I was wrong."
Arch didn't look at Arleen. He kept his eyes fixed on Chrissy.
"Are you satisfied, Mrs. Rush?" he asked.
Chrissy was too stunned to speak. Her brain couldn't process the violent, sudden shift in power. She just stared at Arch and gave a slow, numb nod.
"Good," Arch said, his tone turning brisk and impatient. "Grab your trash and let's go."
Chrissy didn't need to be told twice. She gripped her duffel bag and pulled Greyson's leash. The dog growled at Hank as they walked past.
Mitch turned the wheelchair around and began pushing Arch out the door.
As they passed Hank, Arch paused. He didn't look at the older man.
"This is the last time," Arch said, his voice dropping to a terrifying whisper. "If I ever hear that you touched a single hair on her head, I will have the Vega Group erased from California by tomorrow morning."
Arch signaled Mitch. They moved down the stairs, leaving the Vega family trembling in the dark attic.
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7.4
I single-handedly saved my family's corporate empire from a hostile takeover, securing our market share for the next decade.
But my grandfather didn't see me as a hero. He saw me as a flawed piece of inventory.
To calm the board and fix the reputation I supposedly ruined, he forced me into an arranged marriage, auctioning me off to the highest bidder.
Desperate, I turned to my childhood friend, Egnacio, the only person who ever promised to protect me.
But instead of saving me, he publicly humiliated me. He used my desperation as a networking opportunity, pitching my arranged marriage as a business deal to a ruthless private equity king named Dexter Mathews.
Later that night, I caught Egnacio holding my cruel cousin in his arms.
"What man wants to be with a woman who looks at you like she's planning a hostile takeover?"
Hearing him mock my pain shattered the last bit of hope I had.
I realized I was never family to them. I was just a sharp knife, used to cut down their enemies and then traded for cash before I got dull.
The heartbreak vanished, replaced by a cold, violent rage.
I didn't break, and I didn't run.
Instead, I got into the back of Dexter Mathews's car. He had watched my family tear me apart, but he didn't see a broken pawn. He saw a queen.
And together, we were going to burn their entire empire to the ground.
9.0
Adaline Poole thought she had escaped her family's toxic corporate grip by moving to London and adopting a stray cat named Monty.
But when she returns to her empty apartment, her father delivers a chilling ultimatum: he has kidnapped the cat and will euthanize it by morning unless she accepts an arranged marriage with Barron Cooke, a notoriously elusive billionaire.
Her entire family becomes complicit in her sale. Her mother demands she secure their elite status, and her brother secretly spies on her social media to feed Barron her every move. Horrified to discover Barron is a thirty-three-year-old "fossil" twelve years her senior, Adaline resorts to sabotage. She goes to a Soho club, takes a scandalous photo with a frat boy, and sends it to the old billionaire to disgust him into canceling their upcoming dinner.
But her rebellion backfires horribly when the frat boy spikes her drink with a powerful narcotic. As her body burns with a terrifying, feverish heat, she collapses in a dark corridor. Stripped of her phone and betrayed by her bloodline, she is left utterly defenseless as a predator approaches to drag her away.
Suddenly, the heavy fire door is kicked open by a towering, terrifyingly handsome stranger who effortlessly neutralizes her attacker.
"Please... help me," Adaline begs, deliriously throwing her burning body into his arms.
She has absolutely no idea that the handsome savior she is clinging to is Barron Cooke himself.
9.3
Marissa was the perfect wife. She traded her high powered corporate ladder for home cooked meals and a designer sanctuary, all to support her husband, Ethan.
But when Ethan confesses to a four month affair not out of guilt, but because his mistress is extorting him for $300 million...Marissa's world turns to ash.Ethan's solution is as twisted as his heart.
"Cheat back. Get even. Stay married."Driven by a cocktail of rage and Revenge, Marissa decides to take him up on his offer. She heads into the night looking for a single moment of rebellion to wash away the scent of Ethan's lies.
She finds it in the arms of a cold, devastatingly masked handsome stranger who makes her forget everything.Broken and fueled by the betrayal, Marissa decides to take the ultimate risk. She slips into an exclusive, members only masquerade club...a place where names don't exist and only desires matter.
Behind a lace mask, she meets him....a man who smells of expensive bourbon and cold command.He is the first person in years to see the fire in her, not just the wife she became.They share a night of scorched....earth passion that leaves Marissa breathless and "even." She leaves before the sun rises, intending for the stranger to remain a ghost of her revenge.
But some ghosts have a name.When the masks come off and the corporate world demands her return, Marissa comes face to face with the man from the club. He isn't just anyone. He is Xavier Sterling....the ruthless billionaire CEO she once worked for, and the man Ethan calls his "best friend."Xavier knows her scent. He knows her touch. And most dangerously, he knows exactly what Ethan did to her.
Now, Marissa has to navigate a world where her husband wants her to stay, the mistress wants her dead, and the CEO wants to own the one woman he was never supposed to touch.
Now, Marissa is caught in a lethal triangle. Xavier wants to own her, Ethan wants to keep her to save his reputation, and the $300 million debt is threatening to drown them all. In a world of billionaire power plays, Marissa is about to learn that revenge is a dish best served... in the CEO's bed.
8.9
I sold three years of my life to a billionaire to save my mother. I was his pretend fiancée, a stand-in for his ex, counting down the days until the contract ended and we could finally be free.
But just as we were about to escape, his real girlfriend returned and publicly accused me of faking a pregnancy to trap him.
My fiancé, Drake, didn't hesitate. He called me a disgusting gold-digger and threatened to pull my mother's medical funding to force me into an abortion.
The shock of his cruelty sent my mother into cardiac arrest. She died right there in the hospital.
They demanded I abort a child that could never exist, a lie built to destroy me.
But they didn't know my secret. After my mother' s death, I finally told him the truth that shattered his world: I was born without a uterus. And with her last letter in my hand, I walked away from him forever.
7.4
Alaya woke up in the sterile hospital room to a devastating reality: her six-month-old baby was gone, lost in a horrific car crash.
But as the memories crashed into her, she realized she had been reborn. She was back three years before her ultimate death, back to the moment she remembered lying bleeding on the asphalt while her husband, Hardy, shielded his mistress from the freezing rain.
When Hardy finally showed up at the ward, he coldly dismissed the crash as a mere accident and immediately left to comfort his young lover. To make matters worse, Alaya secretly checked her medical files and found a terrifying detail: someone had intentionally slipped beta-blockers into her system, a lethal drug for her transplanted heart. And Hardy didn't care about her dead baby or her irreversible infertility. He only coldly confirmed with the doctor that her heart was still viable.
A horrifying suspicion made Alaya's blood run cold. Why was her husband so obsessed with protecting her transplanted heart while treating her like garbage? And why was his perfectly healthy mistress secretly racking up massive bills at an advanced cardiac hospital?
Realizing she was nothing but a vessel in a twisted, deadly game, Alaya didn't shed another tear.
She packed her belongings, left her flawless diamond wedding ring on the cold marble table, and vanished from their penthouse.
When Hardy finally tracked her down, she threw a thick stack of documents onto the table.
"Sign the divorce papers," she said, her eyes completely dead.
8.9
For fifteen years, I thought my mother had died in a tragic fire.
Then the wealthy Ross family's butler knocked on my door, revealing she was alive—locked away in the psychiatric annex of their massive estate.
I rushed into the lion's den to save her, only to run straight into Graydon Ross, the ruthless billionaire CEO.
He looked at my cheap clothes with pure disgust, convinced I was a bottom-feeding scammer trying to extort his family.
"Throw this bitch out into the snow."
He ordered his armed guards to drag me away, completely cutting off my only chance to see my mentally broken mother.
But as he violently grabbed my collar to throw me out, I saw a custom eagle-head cufflink hanging from his coat pocket.
My blood turned to ice, and a wave of paralyzing terror crashed over me.
Eight months ago, I accidentally slept with a masked stranger in a pitch-black hotel room and fled before dawn.
That cufflink belonged to him.
The man who took my virginity—the Wall Street tyrant I had been hiding from—was Graydon Ross.
If he ever found out I was that woman, he would literally destroy my life.
But to save my mother, I couldn't be thrown out.
When his grandmother suddenly appeared, I dropped to the floor, exposed the dark bruises Graydon had just left on my wrists, and sobbed.
I framed the billionaire for assault to secure my place in the mansion, forcing myself to live right next door to the monster whose bed I had fled.