The Almighty Tycoon Returns For Her
For a whole year, April believed her billionaire husband, Bartholomew, abandoned her in Europe the day after their arranged wedding. She hated him so much she drunkenly prayed for his death at a club.
But he suddenly returned that very night, catching her red-handed. Instead of a divorce, he trapped her, threatening to bankrupt her bloodsucking family unless she moved into his penthouse to play the devoted wife.
Forced to comply, she attended a dinner with her toxic family. Her stepmother deliberately served her lobster—knowing April had a fatal allergy.
"Eat up, darling. I know hospital food is dreadful."
When April refused and exposed their massive gambling debts, her furious father raised his hand to strike her across the face.
But it was Bartholomew, the ruthless tyrant she despised, who caught her father's arm and snapped his wrist.
"If you ever try to touch my wife again, I will erase your family by sunrise."
April was completely stunned. Why was he defending her with such murderous rage? And why did he keep a cheap paper airplane she had made at age six preserved under a glass dome in his study?
The answer came that night. When Bartholomew stepped out of the shower, April saw the massive, jagged surgical scar sliced directly over his heart. He hadn't run away; he had been fighting for his life on an operating table. Staring at the man who had silently survived just to come back to her, April made her choice. She was going to uncover the truth behind his surgery and their past.
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Chapter 3
Bartholomew didn't say another word.
He shot her one final, freezing look out of the corner of his eye, turned his back to her, and started walking toward the private spiral staircase leading to the VIP section.
That single glance held a warning so potent, April's legs felt like they were filled with wet cement. But her body moved on autopilot. She forced herself to stand up, her knees trembling, and followed him.
The male models exchanged confused looks and took a step forward to help her. Instantly, two massive bodyguards in black suits stepped out of the shadows, pinning the models to the floor with murderous glares.
April dragged her stilettos up the dark red carpet of the stairs. Every step felt like a march toward a guillotine.
She stared at the broad, rigid line of Bartholomew's shoulders. Her mind raced, flashing with every terrifying rumor she had heard about his ruthless, bloodthirsty tactics in the corporate world. He destroyed people for fun.
They walked single file down a soundproofed corridor. The heavy bass of the club faded into a suffocating, dead silence.
Bartholomew pushed open the double doors at the end of the hall. The doors were trimmed with gold leaf. The heavy scent of Cuban cigars and aged whiskey hit April's face.
She stopped at the threshold. Her terror was a live thing, clawing at her throat, but years of Poole family training kicked in. Panic was a weakness. She took a deep, jagged breath, locking the fear behind a mask of polite indifference. She would not let him see her break. She stepped inside.
Pierce and Julian were lounging on the leather sofas. When they saw April trailing behind Bartholomew, their conversation died instantly.
Julian pushed his gold-rimmed glasses up his nose. His eyes dragged up and down April's sequined, slightly revealing dress with undisguised disdain.
Pierce let out a low, mocking whistle. "First night back in the States, and you have to go downstairs to wrangle your runaway bride, Barty?"
Bartholomew ignored them. He walked straight to the main armchair, sat down, and crossed his long legs. He pointed a single finger at the empty single sofa across from him.
April's chest burned with humiliation. The way they looked at her like she was a stray dog he had dragged in infuriated her, but she had no power here. She swallowed her pride, walked over, and sat down stiffly.
She needed to break the silence before it crushed her.
"You look... much better than before you left for Europe," April said, her voice sickeningly sweet and entirely fake.
Bartholomew pulled a cigar from a silver case. A waiter materialized instantly to light it. Bartholomew took a slow drag, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke. His expression didn't change.
"Does my good health mean your trust fund payout is indefinitely postponed?" he asked, his voice flat.
The temperature in the room dropped another ten degrees. Julian let out a sharp, cruel laugh. April shifted on the leather seat, feeling the prickle of sweat on her back.
"It was just a stupid joke," April pushed out, her voice tight. "The alcohol was talking."
Bartholomew suddenly leaned forward. He rested his elbows on his knees, bringing his face terrifyingly close to hers.
"What is the name of the friend who ran away?" he demanded, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
April's heart stuttered. She bit the inside of her cheek. She couldn't sell Constance out.
"I don't know her well. Just a girl I met tonight," April lied smoothly, keeping her chin up.
A dark, mocking amusement flickered in Bartholomew's eyes. He knew exactly who had run away. His own cowardly niece.
He didn't call out her lie. Instead, he turned his head slightly toward Pierce.
"Go downstairs. Pay the tab for that table of models," Bartholomew ordered.
Pierce raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the show. "Should I leave them a little extra for emotional distress?"
Bartholomew shot him a look so cold it could freeze boiling water. "Reynolds money isn't used to feed trash."
The casual, dismissive way he handled the situation-handling her mess like she was an incompetent child-snapped the last thread of April's patience.
She shot up from the sofa, grabbing her clutch.
"Since the bill is paid, I have no reason to sit here and be insulted," she said, her voice shaking with rage.
She spun on her heels and marched toward the heavy double doors, desperate to escape the suffocating testosterone in the room.
Her fingers brushed the cold metal of the door handle.
"Lock it," Bartholomew's voice rang out behind her, deep and absolute.
The two bodyguards standing outside pulled the doors shut. A heavy, metallic click echoed through the room. The deadbolt slid into place.
April spun around, her chest heaving. She stared into Bartholomew's dark eyes, seeing nothing but pure, unyielding possession. She was trapped in a cage, and he held the only key.
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7.8
Alayna was working a grueling catering shift in worn-out heels to support her broke college boyfriend, Caiden, who claimed to be studying at the library.
But through the crack of a VIP suite door, she saw him wearing a bespoke suit and a Patek Philippe watch, sipping expensive liquor.
"It's a little poverty role-play. Keeps things interesting."
He was laughing with his rich friends, mocking her as his clueless "charity case."
To make matters worse, she was forced into a humiliating mascot costume just in time to watch him passionately kiss his wealthy ex-girlfriend.
That same night, Alayna's mother collapsed with gastric cancer, requiring a half-million-dollar surgery.
When a desperate Alayna begged Caiden for help, he refused.
"Why don't you just apply for Medicaid? That's the path for people like you."
For two years, she had starved herself to buy his textbooks, his tickets, and his shoes.
He had stolen her sweat and her sacrifices, all for a cruel game.
The sheer audacity of his betrayal made her blood run cold.
When a billionaire stranger stepped in to pay her mother's medical bills in exchange for a one-year fake marriage, Alayna didn't hesitate to sign the contract.
She slipped the flawless diamond ring onto her finger, opened a spreadsheet, and sent Caiden an invoice for every single cent.
This time, she was going to dismantle his entire life.
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.
8.2
One night was supposed to be her escape. After catching her ex-boyfriend in the arms of her treacherous stepsister on her twenty-first birthday, Valerie sought the only mercy she could find: the numbing sting of alcohol. But the morning brought no peace-only a shattered spirit, a body marked by a stranger, and a memory wiped clean against her will.
Months later, Valerie is a woman reborn from the wreckage, landing a high-paying role at the prestigious Noir Group. But the dream quickly shifts into a polished nightmare. Her new boss is Ellan Noir-a ruthless CEO whose name commands the city and whose eyes hold an unmistakable, familiar darkness.
When a mistake in the executive lift threatens her career, Ellan offers a devil's bargain: a contract of total submission. To save her best friend Nora's failing heart, Valerie must become his private property, bound to his beck and call 24/7. As office politics bleed into a dangerous game of obsession, Valerie realizes the man who rules her career is the same shadow who owns her past.
Dragged into his world of chaos, Valerie discovers a truth that changes everything She decides to collide with Ellan's business rival y get revenge until she realises she is carrying his child. As she struggles to survive the predators in the Noir family, Ellan fights for his life in a hospital bed. With a baby's life hanging in the balance after a lethal post-birth injection, Valerie must decide if she can save the man who broke her-or if their twisted fate will end in tragedy.
9.3
For three years, Dara endured endless humiliation to be the perfect wife to billionaire Donavon Monroe.
But on their third anniversary, which was also her birthday, Donavon coldly threw divorce papers on the dining table.
He wanted her gone for his returning childhood sweetheart, completely ignoring the blistering burn on Dara's hand—a cruel injury intentionally caused by his brother just hours ago.
When Dara tearfully reminded him how she had bled and almost died to save his life three years ago, Donavon looked at her with pure disgust.
"I have zero interest in looking at the ugly scars you picked up in whatever slum you crawled out of."
He accused her of fabricating a savior complex just to secure a ring, perfectly content to let his mother and brother treat her like a glorified maid.
Dara's heart completely shattered.
She had sacrificed her life and dignity for a ruthless capitalist who viewed her as nothing but disposable trash.
With her last shred of pride, she signed the papers, ready to leave this suffocating nightmare forever.
But that night, a freak lightning storm struck the estate.
When Dara opened her eyes the next morning, she felt incredibly heavy and her center of gravity was completely wrong.
She looked in the mirror and saw Donavon's cold, chiseled face staring back at her in absolute terror.
They had swapped bodies.
Now, she held the absolute power of the Monroe empire, and Donavon was finally going to experience his family's vicious abuse firsthand.
8.8
I've always been the unwanted child-the invisible one. The rebel no one ever tried to understand.
And yet, I never resented my perfect, beloved sister. All I ever wanted was for her to be happy.
But one cruel twist of fate-and a devastating betrayal by someone I trusted-changed everything.
I woke up in a stranger's bed, losing the one thing I had guarded so carefully. Back then, I thought that was my greatest loss.
I was wrong.
Because not long after, my sister introduced me to her fiancé.
And the man standing in front of me... was the same stranger from that night.
Now he haunts me-day and night, in my dreams and in my waking hours. And just when I start to believe the nightmare might finally fade with the dawn, Alan walks back into my life.
This time, he has no intention of letting me forget.
Not the insult I dealt him.
...or that one unforgettable night.
7.3
Six years ago, my father tore up my mother's trust fund and threw me out into a freezing New York storm.
Crawling in the mud with a high fever, I was nearly run over by a massive Rolls-Royce.
The man in the backseat, ruthless billionaire Hiram Houston, looked at my bleeding face with absolute disgust.
"Throw her in the trunk."
He coldly ordered his driver to lock me in suffocating darkness and dump me behind a sketchy private clinic in Queens like garbage.
I survived that night, completely abandoned by my family.
But the ultimate cruel joke came when I realized the anonymous sperm donor I later used from that exact same clinic gave my son a pair of piercing, ice-blue eyes.
For six years, I clawed my way up to become an untouchable lawyer and designer.
I raised my son Julian alone, publicly humiliated my abusive father, and thought I had buried the monster of my past forever.
But today, during a tense corporate negotiation, my uncle accidentally showed Hiram a picture of my little boy.
The ruthless corporate butcher stared at a child who looked exactly like a mirror reflection of his own youth.
"Boss... he looks exactly like you."
I locked my apartment door, my body shaking with silent sobs as I slid down to the floor.
He ordered a full background check on me, and now he knows the truth.
The man who once left me for dead is coming for my son.