Taming My Silent Billionaire Contract Husband
I transmigrated into a novel as the cannon-fodder wife of Garrison Harvey, an ice-cold Wall Street billionaire.
According to the original plot, my fake best friend Adelaide was sitting across from me right now, secretly recording me complaining about my suffocating marriage.
That single audio clip breached my strict prenuptial agreement. Because of it, I was thrown out of the penthouse with absolutely nothing. I can still feel the freezing rain hitting my face and the rough concrete scraping my knees. I remember Garrison handing me the divorce papers without a single word or a second glance. And I remember Adelaide standing in the warm luxury lobby, smiling her perfectly contoured smile as she watched me freeze on the streets.
Until my last breath, my lungs burned with bitter injustice. Why did I let a fake friend manipulate me into giving up my wealth? Why did I expect romance from a mute, robotic CEO instead of just taking the money?
Blinking hard, the blurry cafe sharpened into focus. I was back.
Adelaide was leaning forward, her phone face-down with the red recording timer running, coaxing me to vent about my husband.
Instead of falling into her trap, I stretched my lips into a flawless, sickeningly sweet smile.
"Torture?" I said loudly, making sure the microphone caught every word. "I have absolutely nothing to complain about. Garrison is the most perfect husband in all of New York."
This time, I'm treating my icy contract husband like my ultimate VIP client, and that massive trust fund will be mine.
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Chapter 10
Ten yards away from Cassie's table, tucked into a dark, recessed booth in the corner of the restaurant, sat Arturo Harvey.
Arturo was Garrison's younger brother.
He was wearing a faded black hoodie pulled up over his head, hiding his face in the shadows. He had the same sharp jawline and dark hair as Garrison, but where Garrison was cold and controlled, Arturo radiated a volatile, aggressive energy.
Arturo was sitting with three of his old fraternity brothers, a pitcher of cheap beer sweating on the table between them.
From the moment the woman in the pink fur coat had started yelling, Arturo's eyes had been locked onto Cassie's table.
His jaw was clenched tight.
Because of the loud K-pop music and the sizzling grills, Arturo couldn't hear the actual words being spoken.
He could only see the body language.
From Arturo's perspective, he saw the obnoxious woman leaning over the table, pointing her finger aggressively in Cassie's face, screaming at her.
And what did Cassie do?
He watched her sit there, completely unfazed, like a porcelain doll that couldn't feel the insults. It disgusted him. To him, it wasn't strength; it was the empty, soulless composure of someone who had traded all their dignity for a price tag.
A wave of absolute disgust rolled through Arturo's stomach.
"Hey, Artie," one of his frat brothers said, nudging Arturo's shoulder and pointing a beer bottle toward Cassie's table. "Isn't that your sister-in-law? Looks like she's getting chewed out by some crazy chick."
Arturo grabbed his glass of beer and took a massive, angry swallow.
He slammed the glass back down on the table.
"Yeah," Arturo sneered, his lip curling in contempt. "That's her. The gold-digging parasite."
His friend raised an eyebrow. "You gonna go help her out?"
"Help her?" Arturo let out a harsh, bitter laugh. "Why? She's just a pathetic gold-digger who will swallow any amount of disrespect as long as she gets to keep the Harvey name on her credit cards."
In Arturo's mind, Cassie was the villain. He believed she had manipulated her way into the marriage.
Seeing her sit quietly while someone screamed at her only confirmed his harsh judgment.
Arturo watched Brenda suddenly storm off.
Arturo had already turned his head away in absolute disgust to down the rest of his beer. Because he looked away at that exact second, Arturo missed Brenda slipping on the grease and the restaurant's wave of laughter. He just saw the woman march away, assuming she was victorious in her anger.
Arturo grips the edge of the table. His knuckles turned white.
She's a disgrace to the family name, Arturo thought, his blood boiling. Garrison is a machine, and she's a coward. They deserve each other.
His friend noticed Arturo's dark mood and quickly changed the subject.
"So, man, you going to that massive Harvey Family Gala next week?" the friend asked, trying to lighten the mood.
At the mention of the Gala, Arturo's eyes narrowed into dangerous slits.
He looked back at Cassie. She was calmly paying her bill at the table, completely unaware of his presence.
Arturo knew Cassie would be at the Gala. She would be forced to play the role of the perfect, elegant society wife in front of hundreds of cameras and billionaires.
An idea sparked in Arturo's mind. A cruel, vindictive idea.
If she was so willing to swallow her pride for money, he was going to test her limits. He was going to expose her fake, cowardly nature in front of the entire family.
"Yeah," Arturo said to his friend, his voice dropping to a low, menacing growl. "I'll be there. It's going to be very entertaining."
Across the room, Cassie stood up. She grabbed her Birkin bag and put on her blazer.
She turned and started walking toward the exit.
Her path to the door took her directly past Arturo's dark booth.
As Cassie approached, Arturo instinctively slouched lower in his seat, pulling the hood further down over his eyes. He stared at her from the shadows like a predator tracking prey.
Cassie walked past the booth.
She was looking down at her bag, her fingers digging around inside to find her MetroCard. She was completely focused on her own world.
She walked right past Arturo, less than two feet away.
A breeze followed her, carrying the scent of roasted meat mixed with the faint, clean smell of her expensive shampoo.
Arturo watched her push open the glass door and step out into the neon-lit Manhattan night.
A dark, mocking smile spread across Arturo's face.
He pulled out his phone and opened his calendar app. He stared at the date circled in red for next Friday: Harvey Family Charity Gala.
He tapped his thumb hard against the screen.
He was going to rip her mask off. He was going to make her break.
Out on the street, Cassie swiped her MetroCard and walked down the stairs to the subway platform.
She stood under the flickering fluorescent lights, feeling proud of how she had handled the day. She had secured her job, she had managed Garrison, and she had crushed her enemies.
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9.3
They say you can't have it all. I'm about to prove them wrong-or destroy myself trying.
When my struggling mother married billionaire Richard Stone, I thought I was gaining a family. Instead, I found three stepbrothers who became my obsession, my downfall, and my salvation.
Dominic, the eldest, cold and commanding, who kisses me like he's claiming his kingdom and looks at me like I'm the only thing he can't control.
Julian, the charming playboy who hides a vulnerable soul beneath his perfect smile, making me feel like I'm the only woman he's ever truly seen.
Asher, the brooding artist who paints me like I'm his muse and touches me like I'm his masterpiece, seeing parts of my soul I didn't know existed.
They're forbidden. They're dangerous. They're everything I shouldn't want.
But when I discover my father didn't die by suicide that he was murdered by the very man who now calls himself my stepfather, these three powerful men becomes my unlikely allies.
First it was a forbidden attraction, now it's an arrangement that defies every rule.
The rules are simple:
I'll give each of them a chance.
I'll take everything they offer.
And in the end, I'll have to make the hardest decision of my life:
Choose one of them. Choose all of them. Or choose myself.
8.9
Ava Kidd just wanted to escape her abusive stepmother when she got drunk at a high-end club and stumbled into the wrong hotel room.
She woke up the next morning in a luxury penthouse, lying naked next to a terrifyingly handsome man covered in her scratch marks.
Recalling rumors of the hotel's secret underground concierge, she immediately assumed she had accidentally slept with an elite male escort.
Desperate to settle the bill, she offered him her only debit card with a pathetic $1,800.
But the man, who was actually Garrison Terry, the ruthless billionaire CEO, was deeply insulted by the cheap plastic.
He trapped her against the bed, coldly demanding a half-million-dollar service fee.
When Ava frantically offered her dead mother's tarnished locket as collateral, he cruelly dismissed it as worthless junk.
Ava was humiliated, her heart pounding with absolute terror.
She didn't understand why this arrogant gigolo was acting like a deranged extortionist, demanding a fortune from a broke girl who had clearly made a mistake.
Furious and refusing to cower, she sneaked out, put on his oversized designer shirt, and aggressively ate his $800 truffle breakfast.
Having no money left, she grabbed her cheap red lipstick, wrote a defiant IOU on his expensive linen napkin, and fled the hotel.
She thought she had escaped a criminal, but upstairs, the billionaire traced her lipstick-stained name with a predatory smile.
"Ava Kidd, I will absolutely find you."
7.1
After the one-night stand with a man who refused to tell her his name, Charlotte would figure out on TV that the man she had s*x with the previous night was the heir to a billionaire empire.
At the same time, Jace Norman-the infamous playboy heir-faces a public scandal that threatens his inheritance. To protect the family empire, his ruthless father forces him into an immediate contract marriage.
And just like that Charlotte would get married to the spoiled, reckless son of the most powerful billionaire in the city.
That One night, Room 55 and Five thousand dollars she desperately needed would change her life forever.
Weeks later, Charlotte discovers she's pregnant.
But before she can process the truth, her manipulative boyfriend claims the child is his and begins blackmailing her.
As their fake marriage becomes dangerously possessive, secrets begin to spiral. An ex-boyfriend demanding money. Jace's jealous college lover is determined to destroy Charlotte. Charlotte's sister is hiding betrayal behind sweet smiles. And a billionaire father who will eliminate anyone to protect the Norman name.
When a forged DNA test claims the baby isn't Jace's, the empire turns on Charlotte.
But the truth is far darker than any of them realize.
Because someone has been orchestrating every lie from the beginning.
And when Jace finally discovers the baby is his...
He will have to choose between his father's empire-
Or the woman carrying his heir.
8.1
I was a top-tier model with a fiancé I trusted to manage every cent I earned. I thought we were building a life together until a blown fuse at the studio sent me home twenty minutes early.
The silence of the penthouse was broken by a trail of clothes: Haywood’s silk tie, then a red-soled stiletto that belonged to Brandy, the girl I had mentored like a sister. Through the bedroom door, I watched the man I loved tell his mistress that I was "yesterday's news" while they tangled in the sheets I had picked out six months ago.
I didn't scream; I just turned to leave, but the betrayal went deeper than the bedroom. When I checked my banking app, my balance was exactly $12.45. Haywood had liquidated every holding account and savings entry I owned, using a "tax strategy" he’d convinced me of to steal my entire past.
Within hours, the man who robbed me was planting stories in the press, claiming I was having a drug-fueled breakdown. He wanted me penniless, homeless, and discredited so no one would believe the truth. He even tried to force me into a "rehab" facility to silence me forever while he promoted his pregnant mistress.
I stood on a New York curb with nothing left but a desperate, insane idea born from a headline on my phone. Isham Rhodes, the most ruthless CEO in the city, needed a wife by thirty to keep his empire, and I needed a shield to survive mine.
"Mr. Rhodes, I hear you need a puppet," I said, intercepting him in the rain outside City Hall. "I don't want your love. I want a legal document that makes me untouchable."
He didn't ask for a romance; he asked for my ID. Now, with a billionaire’s black card in my pocket and a marriage certificate in my hand, I’m going back to the agency to take back everything they stole. The war has just begun.
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.
9.4
For three years Sarah Miller was the invisible wife of billionaire Jason Vanguard. She cooked his meals. She cleaned his home. She hid her identity as the heiress to the world's wealthiest empire just to prove her love. Jason rewarded her sacrifice with coldness and public humiliation. On their third anniversary he bought a diamond necklace for his childhood friend while Sarah waited home alone.
That was the final straw.
Sarah signed the divorce papers and walked away with nothing but her pride. When she returned to the Miller Group as its powerful new CEO. the world gasped. Jason assumed his "poor" ex-wife would beg to come back. Instead he found himself facing a cold queen in the boardroom who didn't even remember his name.
Now Jason is desperate to win back the woman he threw away. But Sarah is no longer the silent wife who waits for him. She is the rival who can destroy him.