The Amnesiac Billionaire's Fake Perfect Wife
For three years, Jessenia lived as the perfect, grieving fiancée of her missing billionaire boss, Harlan Schwartz, enjoying his massive trust fund and raising their son.
Then, the hospital called. Harlan had been found alive.
Jessenia was paralyzed with terror. Before his plane crashed, Harlan despised her. She was just a scheming assistant who got pregnant. He had thrown a massive check and an NDA at her, ordering her to disappear forever or he would destroy her life.
But the doctors revealed Harlan had severe amnesia. He forgot the NDA, and he forgot his deep hatred for her.
Jessenia seized the chance, using their son to convince him they were deeply in love. Harlan accepted the logical lie, but his body didn't. Every time she tried to touch him, his muscles turned to stone, physically recoiling from her in instinctual disgust.
To make matters worse, Harlan brought back Kaylee, the innocent-looking island girl who saved him.
"Cole never said he had a fiancée," Kaylee whispered, staring at Jessenia's massive diamond ring with calculating eyes.
Kaylee quickly realized Jessenia had no legal marriage certificate and launched a vicious, silent war to usurp her position, constantly setting traps to expose Jessenia's fabricated romantic timeline.
Every day is a terrifying tightrope walk. Harlan's sharp, analytical brain is already noticing the flaws in her fake photos and stories.
If he remembers the truth, he won't just kick her out. He will take her son and throw her in prison for fraud. Jessenia must break his physical defenses and eliminate the island girl before her flawless circle of lies shatters completely.
Chapters
Share
Chapter 3
Jessenia pushed open the glass door of the VIP lounge. Her eyes immediately scanned the room.
A girl was sitting on the edge of the leather sofa. She looked to be in her early twenties. Her hair was a messy knot of blonde waves. She was wearing a pair of faded denim shorts and a white button-down shirt. On her wrist, she wore a simple bracelet woven from tiny, iridescent shells, a memento from her home.
Jessenia stopped breathing for a second.
The shirt was massive on the girl's small frame. But Jessenia recognized the fabric instantly. It was a custom Brunello Cucinelli shirt. It was the exact shirt Harlan had been wearing the day his private plane went down over the ocean.
The sight of another woman wearing Harlan's clothes felt like a physical needle piercing Jessenia's eyeball. It was an intimate, silent declaration of ownership.
Jessenia forced her jaw to relax. She pasted a flawless, high-society smile onto her face. She walked forward, her heels clicking sharply against the hardwood floor.
"Hi," Jessenia said. Her voice was dripping with condescending gratitude. "I'm Jessenia. Harlan's fiancée. I cannot thank you enough for what you did for him."
She held out her hand.
Kaylee Ryan stood up. She looked at Jessenia's outstretched hand, but she didn't take it. Instead, Kaylee's eyes dropped to Jessenia's left hand. She stared directly at the massive, five-carat diamond engagement ring on Jessenia's finger.
Kaylee bit her lower lip. She looked up through her eyelashes.
"Cole never said he had a fiancée," Kaylee said. Her voice was high, soft, and entirely too innocent.
Jessenia's smile froze. Cole.
The nickname hit her like a slap to the face. Harlan's middle name was Cole, but no one in New York ever called him that. It was a name Kaylee had given him. A name that belonged entirely to the three years of blank space in his memory.
Jessenia slowly lowered her hand.
"He suffered a terrible head injury," Jessenia said smoothly. "He forgot a lot of things. But his family trust and his life here have always been waiting for him."
She emphasized the words family trust. It was a deliberate, brutal reminder of the class divide between them. A reminder that Kaylee was a nobody from a fishing village, and Jessenia was the woman holding the keys to the kingdom.
Kaylee shrank back. Her eyes filled with tears. She grabbed the hem of the oversized shirt and twisted it nervously in her fingers.
"I don't know anything about trusts," Kaylee whispered, her voice trembling. "I just know he is my Cole."
The door behind Jessenia opened. Eleanor walked into the lounge.
Eleanor saw Kaylee standing there, looking small, terrified, and on the verge of tears. Eleanor's maternal instincts immediately flared. She walked past Jessenia and took Kaylee's hands in hers.
"Oh, you poor dear," Eleanor said. "You must be so overwhelmed."
Kaylee leaned into Eleanor's touch. She looked like a frightened deer seeking shelter.
"We owe you everything," Eleanor continued. "I want to buy you a house in the Hamptons. And set up an account for you with enough money so you will never have to work a day in your life."
Kaylee's eyes widened in horror. She violently shook her head and pulled her hands back.
"No!" Kaylee cried out. "No, please. I don't want your money. I don't want a house. I just want to stay near Cole. I just want to make sure he gets better. Please don't send me away."
Jessenia watched the performance. Her stomach churned with disgust. The girl was good. The outright refusal of money was the ultimate proof of purity in the eyes of the wealthy.
Eleanor looked incredibly moved. She turned to Jessenia.
"Jessie," Eleanor said. "Let's arrange the guest suite on the sixtieth floor for Kaylee. That way she's close by if Harlan needs anything. It might comfort him to have a familiar face in the building."
Jessenia's heart slammed against her ribs. Letting this girl into the penthouse was inviting a viper into her bed. It was a fatal mistake.
But Jessenia couldn't say no. Her entire position in the family relied on Eleanor's approval. If she acted jealous or territorial now, the perfect fiancée mask would slip.
Jessenia dug her nails into her palms. She forced a bright, welcoming smile.
"Of course," Jessenia said. "That's a wonderful idea. I'll have Arthur prepare the best guest room for her."
Kaylee looked at Jessenia. The tears were still in her eyes, but the corners of her mouth twitched upward into a microscopic, triumphant smirk.
Three days later, Harlan was discharged.
The private elevator doors opened directly into the foyer of the Schwartz penthouse. Kaylee stepped out, having been brought up from the sixtieth floor under the guise of a visit. She was holding a faded, dirty canvas duffel bag. She stood in the middle of the grand foyer, surrounded by marble columns and crystal chandeliers, looking intentionally pathetic.
Jessenia stood near the hallway.
"Arthur," Jessenia commanded. "Please escort Miss Ryan back to the sixtieth-floor guest suite."
Kaylee didn't move. She dropped her canvas bag onto the marble floor.
"Actually," Kaylee said loudly. She pointed down the main hallway, directly at the door opposite the master suite. "Cole is used to hearing my voice at night when he has nightmares. The sixtieth floor is too far. I should stay in that room."
The foyer went dead silent. The maids stopped moving. Arthur looked at the floor.
Jessenia stared at Kaylee. The innocent act was gone. This was a direct, territorial challenge in front of the entire household staff. The war had officially begun.
You may also like
8.0
"Just ninety days, Viv. Then I have to marry her."
"And what am I supposed to do when the clock runs out?"
He's the meticulous, sterile CEO destined for a cold corporate marriage. She's the fiery, turpentine-scented artist who lives for chaos. Josh Sterling has been Vivian Rossi's safe harbor and secret heartbreak since they were ten.
But with his wedding just three months away, decades of tension finally explode. Terrified of losing their friendship but helpless against the attraction, they make a devastating bargain: 90 days. Friends with benefits. No feelings. No future
It was supposed to be a temporary goodbye to the 'what-ifs.' But as the days bleed into weeks, their arrangement becomes a seductive torture. Viv is forced to watch the man she loves prepare to marry another, and Josh must confront a terrifying truth, the only person who has ever truly seen him is the one he's set to abandon.
90 days with the man i can't have is a searing, high-emotion contemporary romance. When time runs out, duty and desire will clash, demanding the ultimate sacrifice.
9.1
Elise thought her life was finally falling into place. She turned down her father's company to work as executive assistant to Marcus Grey-the boy she's loved since childhood, now the powerful CEO she's devoted her life to.
But when Marcus proposes to another woman, Elise's world crumbles. Enter Sebastian Deluca-Marcus's tattooed, ruthless, long-estranged brother. He's everything Marcus isn't: dangerous, magnetic, and determined to take back his place in New York.
But, there's something odd about him.
Something changed since he arrived.
Bound by family secrets and a mutual desire to expose Marcus's fiancée, Elise and Sebastian form an uneasy alliance. But as sparks ignite between them, Elise must choose: remain loyal to the boy she thought she loved, or risk everything for the man who sees her as more than a shadow.
Some loves are safe. Others are consuming. Which one will she survive?
8.0
My abusive step-family isolated me completely, holding my mother's medical funds hostage to control my every move.
Yesterday, they finalized my sale.
"You will marry Rudy Petrov next month. He is fifty, wealthy, and willing to overlook your lack of pedigree."
Pushed to the absolute edge, I did the insane. I posted an ad online offering my life savings of $50,000 for a contract husband. A stranger named Brennan agreed.
But my family wouldn't let me go. They forced me back for a dinner by threatening my mother's life-saving prescriptions.
At the table, they relentlessly mocked my new "poor IT guy" husband and intentionally burned my hand with boiling tea.
Worse, the housekeeper locked me in a guest room and forced drugs down my throat so Rudy could come in and assault me.
I lay there paralyzed on the floor, bleeding from Rudy's slap, utterly terrified. I couldn't understand why my own family would throw me to the wolves, and I felt a crushing guilt for dragging an innocent, ordinary guy into my nightmare.
Until a pitch-black Maybach smashed through the estate's wrought-iron gates at eighty miles an hour.
My "poor" husband kicked the solid oak doors off their hinges, beat Rudy half to death, and carried me out into the rain.
I didn't know it yet, but the ordinary man I hired to save me was a ruthless billionaire, and he was about to erase my family's entire empire by morning.
7.1
For seven years, I hid my identity as a wealthy heiress to be with my boyfriend, Ewing. I followed him across the country and made myself small so he could feel big.
On Thanksgiving, he ditched our celebration for his first love, Bree, who supposedly had a "burst pipe."
Later, she posted an intimate selfie with him, calling him her "hero."
Then she sent me a video of him at a bar, laughing with his friends.
"She's just being dramatic," he slurred, smirking at the camera. "A new necklace and she'll forget all about it. She's easy."
Easy. Seven years of my life, my love, my sacrifice-all reduced to that one word. I realized I was never his partner. I was just a placeholder.
I didn't cry. I packed my bags, booked a one-way flight to New York, and sent him one final text before blocking his number.
"Don't bother coming home. I'm getting married."
8.9
Aubree Hamilton was the top-tier executive assistant to Wall Street's most ruthless titan, Beck Franco. A month ago, she made a catastrophic mistake and spent the night in his bed.
Thinking she had erased the mistake with a morning-after pill, she panicked upon his return and lied about being engaged to push him away.
But Beck, a man who despised disloyalty above all else, immediately suspended her and ordered her escorted out of the building. Her nightmare only escalated when her toxic ex-boyfriend attacked her on the street, tearing her purse open and exposing the empty morning-after pill box to the public—and to Beck, who was watching from his penthouse. After having his security rescue her, Beck trapped her in his car, ruthlessly tearing apart her fake engagement. Later in her apartment, the suffocating tension between them almost ignited into a kiss, but a violent wave of nausea suddenly hit Aubree.
She shoved him away with all her strength and violently threw up in the bathroom.
Beck took it as the ultimate physical disgust. He walked out, deeply humiliated and dangerously obsessed, unleashing his resources to investigate her every move.
Left alone and trembling, Aubree finally checked the crushed white box. The pill she took had expired a month ago.
Staring at the two bright pink lines on the pregnancy test, she made a desperate vow: Beck Franco could never know she was carrying his child, and she had to disappear before he found out.
9.5
Eda Roman clutched her father's diagnostic report, its sharp edge cutting her finger. His cancer had mutated, standard treatment failed, and a fifty thousand dollar deposit for experimental therapy was due by midnight. Fail to pay, and his hospital bed would be cleared.
Wife to Axel Foley, a multi-billion dollar CEO, Eda faced an impossible chasm. Her family trust, controlled by Keri Lane, offered a meager three hundred dollars.
An emergency fund request met a forty-eight-hour review—a death sentence. Keri's assistant denied expedite and blocked calls. Desperate, Eda called Axel, but his assistant dismissed her with lies, Axel's laughter echoing.
Humiliation and betrayal ignited cold fury. Wife to Seattle's wealthiest, yet begging on a hospital floor? Axel's indifference and Keri's games showed her: her father's life couldn't be left in their hands.
Wiping tears, the pleading girl vanished; her survival instinct roared. Red lipstick her war paint, Eda Roman marched to Foley Group Headquarters, ready to reclaim what was hers.