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The Billionaire's Doll: Her Secret Escape Novel Cover

The Billionaire's Doll: Her Secret Escape

I was just a placeholder, a warm body in silk sheets to keep the bed from getting cold while my billionaire "owner," Garrick Head, dreamt of another man’s wife. To the world, I was Ever Wells, the lucky girl he’d plucked from obscurity, but in reality, I was a doll on a 145-day contract, counting every second until I could disappear. Everything shattered when a burner phone buzzed in my hand with a message that turned my blood to ice: "I know your secret, Everly." My real name was the one thing I had buried to protect my four-year-old son, Leo, who was hidden in a cramped apartment in Queens. Just as the blackmailer closed in, Leo’s asthma flared into a life-threatening fever, and the medication he needed cost thousands I didn't have. When I tried to siphon money to save him, Garrick sensed my desperation and froze my credit cards, mocking my "poverty" and demanding I crawl back to his bed to earn his favor. The nightmare intensified at a high-society gala when Clarence Frazier, a dangerous ghost from my past, cornered me. He mouthed my real name in front of the cameras, his eyes promising to tear my fake life apart. Garrick’s possessiveness turned violent as he broke a man’s jaw for insulting me, yet in the same breath, he reminded me I was nothing but a "rented whore" he’d bought off a shelf. I had to smile while he kissed me and detach my mind while he touched me, all while siphoning pennies into a hidden account. He thought he could finalize my imprisonment with a twenty-million-dollar apartment on Central Park West, calling it a gift when it was really just a heavier lock on my golden cage. "I don't want to save the world," I whispered to the empty, marble penthouse after he fell asleep. "I just want to save my son." With a predator from my past watching my every move and a master who treated me like a pet, I realized I couldn't wait for my contract to end. I had to run tonight, or Leo and I would both die in this cage.
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Chapter 8

Spencer lay in the dirt, clutching his face, making a high-pitched keening noise.

"My nose! You broke my nose!"

Garrick didn't move to hit him again. He simply adjusted his cuffs, staring down at Spencer with eyes devoid of humanity.

"Say her name again," Garrick said, his voice a quiet, lethal drone. "Say one word about her, Spencer, and I will dismantle your father's company brick by brick. By tomorrow morning, your family will be destitute, and you will be in a cell. Do not test me."

Spencer went pale beneath the blood. He knew Garrick wasn't bluffing.

Ever stood there, trembling. Not from fear of Spencer anymore, but from fear of Garrick. The violence was so raw, so easily accessed.

Garrick turned to Ever, his expression hardening. He grabbed her wrist.

"We're leaving."

He dragged her to the car. He didn't open the door for her this time. He shoved her in.

"Are you stupid?" he yelled as the driver pulled away. "He had a crop! He could have blinded you!"

"He was hurting her!" Ever yelled back, rubbing her wrist. "I couldn't just watch!"

"She is paid to be there!" Garrick roared. "She knows the deal! It's a transaction, Ever! Just like you!"

The words hung in the air.

Just like you.

Ever went cold. All the fight drained out of her.

"Right," Ever whispered. "I forgot. I'm just an asset."

Garrick stopped. He looked at Ever, realizing what he had said. Regret flashed in his eyes, but his pride wouldn't let him apologize.

They rode the rest of the way in silence.

Back at the apartment, the fight continued.

"You don't speak to men like Spencer," Garrick lectured, pacing the living room. "You don't challenge them. It puts you in danger."

"So I should just stand there and look pretty?" Ever asked quietly.

"Yes! That is your job!"

"I'm a canary," Ever said, her voice devoid of emotion. "Canaries don't speak. They just sing and die."

Garrick stared at her. He hated it when she went numb. He wanted the fire. He wanted the passion, even if it was anger.

He spun around and swept a Ming vase off the console table.

SMASH.

Porcelain shards exploded across the floor.

Ever didn't flinch. She just looked at the pieces.

"Clean it up," Garrick said, breathing hard. "And don't leave this apartment until I tell you."

He stormed into his study and slammed the door.

Ever knelt on the floor. She picked up a shard of blue and white porcelain. It was sharp. She pressed her thumb against the edge until a bead of blood welled up.

Leo.

If Garrick could do this to his best friend... what would he do to Clarence? What would he do to her son if he found out?

Ever cleaned the floor in silence.

Late that night, Ever lay in the guest room. She could hear Garrick pacing in the hallway. He stopped outside her door. She saw the shadow of his feet under the crack.

He stood there for five minutes. He wanted to come in. He wanted to apologize, or maybe just claim her again.

Ever held her breath, clutching the burner phone under the covers.

Google Flights: New York to Zurich.

His shadow moved away. He didn't come in.

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