The Billionaire's Reluctant Partner.
Naomi Lancaster never planned to see Killian Royce again.
She had escaped his world once-walked away from the man who built his empire on power, control, and carefully concealed lies. But when fate drags her back into his orbit, one thing becomes clear: Killian isn't done with her.
He wants something.
And he always gets what he wants.
Trapped in a dangerous game of wealth and deception, Naomi is forced to question everything she thought she knew-about Killian, about their past, and about the whispers of betrayal closing in around her.
Because in Killian's world, love was never the endgame.
Revenge was.
And this time, she's not sure who will survive it.
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Chapter 6
Killian's POV
The numbers blurred. I stared at the quarterly projections on my tablet, flipping through page after page, but none of it registered. My assistant had color-coded everything, the intern had highlighted margins and forecasts, and yet all I could see was the empty space Naomi had carved in my brain last night. I hated loose ends. Especially ones that smelled like lavender and hellfire. The knock on my door was too light to be formal and too confident to be respectful. That only meant one person. "Don't you people knock anymore?" I muttered without looking up. The door creaked open. "What's this I hear about a wedding?" I blinked. Julian. Of course. He strolled in with his usual smug grin, dressed like he'd either just walked off a yacht or was planning to buy one before brunch. He didn't wait for permission-he never did. Just flopped into one of the leather chairs like he owned the place and propped a foot over his knee, eyes glittering with mischief. I raised a brow. "What wedding?" Julian tilted his head, smirk widening. "Oh, come on. Don't play dumb. I heard everything." I leaned back in my chair. "From who?" He clasped his hands together dramatically. "From Evan, your very loyal, very loose-lipped personal lawyer." I clenched my jaw. "Remind me to fire Evan." Julian chuckled. "You won't. You love him. Almost as much as you used to love your ex-wife." I didn't say anything. Silence was usually my sharpest weapon. But this time, it backfired. Julian's eyes widened. "Wait-wait a damn minute." He straightened in his chair, jaw slack. "Are you kidding me right now, Killian? You're getting remarried to Naomi?" "Just on paper," I said quietly. Julian looked like I'd slapped him with a fish. "Just on paper? What the hell does that even mean?" I didn't answer. He scoffed. "Okay, let's back up. You gave her a wedding project, right? That's what Evan said. That Naomi's planning some big wedding. Whose is it? Some rich client?" I leaned forward and shut the tablet. "It's the wedding of one of my close friends." Julian narrowed his eyes. "Which friend?" I didn't answer. "Killian." Still nothing. He pointed a finger at me. "If I find out you have another best friend I don't know about, we're over." I finally cracked a smile. "You're so dramatic." Julian threw his head back. "No, you're insane. You haven't even seen Naomi in what-five years? And now, suddenly, you're playing fake-husband for boardroom approval like this is a goddamn soap opera?" "I'm doing this for the company," I said, more firmly now. "The board wants stability. Confidence. They want to see the man behind Royce Industries acting like he has his life in order. What better way than a reconciliation? It's PR gold." Julian blinked at me. "So you thought, 'Hey, let me pretend to be back with the only woman who's ever made me remotely human. What could go wrong?'" I didn't respond. Because there was nothing to say. He watched me in silence, then slowly leaned forward. "Is this really about the board, or is this about Naomi?" The question sat in the room like smoke. I glanced at the floor, jaw tight. My fingers tapped against the edge of the tablet once. Twice. Julian didn't back off. "You never got over her. Don't lie." "She left me," I muttered. "No warning. No explanation. Just a signed divorce paper shoved through a courier." "And you never asked why?" "I did ask," I snapped. "She didn't answer." Julian raised both hands. "Okay. Chill. Damn." Silence again. I leaned back and rubbed the bridge of my nose. "Look. It's not about getting her back. I've moved on. We've both moved on. This... this just makes sense. Former power couple. Reunited. The board eats it up. The press too. It buys me breathing room for the fiscal cycle." Julian shook his head slowly. "You're lying to yourself. And honestly? It's kinda sad." I glared at him. "Thanks for the support." "I'm just saying, if this whole thing backfires, it's not going to be Evan's loose lips that screw you. It'll be your own bleeding heart pretending it doesn't still beat for her." I didn't respond. Mostly because I couldn't. The truth was-I had tried to move on. I'd dated other women. I'd slept with distractions. I'd buried myself in mergers and contracts and international expansions. But nothing quite unhooked her from my mind. Naomi Lancaster. She was lightning in a glass, and I had been dumb enough to drop it. The worst part? I never knew why. One day she was in my bed, warm and laughing. The next, cold silence and finality. I told myself I was better off. That maybe she'd found someone else, or just gotten tired of me. But I never believed it. She wasn't the type to walk away without a reason. I just never figured out what that reason was. My phone buzzed. I glanced at it and froze. Naomi Lancaster Subject: Re: Proposal Terms Message: We need to talk. Now. A slow smile tugged at my lips. "Well," Julian said, watching my face shift. "Looks like the bait worked." I looked at him. "I didn't set a trap." Julian grinned. "No. But you're hoping she walks into it anyway." I turned the screen toward him, letting him read the message. He whistled low. "Wow. One line. Straight to the point. Still hot, still scary. I missed her." I rolled my eyes. "I thought you said you hated her after we got divorced?" He shrugged. "Only because I knew she'd ruin you. And here we are." I stood, crossing to the window. The skyline bled gold and ash in the early evening light. Traffic was slow beneath us. New York was humming. "Are you going to reply?" Julian asked. "No." He arched a brow. "Why not?" "She said 'now,'" I replied, grabbing my coat. "I'll say it in person." Julian groaned. "You're such a romantic. It's disgusting." I turned back briefly. "Keep an eye on Evan. If he leaks anything else, I'll bury him in legal paperwork." Julian grinned. "Tell Naomi I said hi. And also that she better not break your cold, dead heart again." I didn't answer as I headed for the elevator. But the smile on my face didn't fade. Because she replied. Because she took the bait.
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9.1
Julian Laurent was known as the most notorious playboy in Rivermont, changing girlfriends as often as he changed his clothes and treating marriage like a joke.
Clara Sterling, on the other hand, had always been the most quiet and obedient daughter of the Sterling family. Raised as the heir since childhood, she had been flawless in every word and every gesture.
A family-arranged marriage forced these two complete opposites into the same life.
On their wedding night, Julian openly made out with a young model at a nightclub.
For the first time, Clara cast aside her propriety, slapping him and demanding a divorce on the spot.
But before the next day was over, their families had forced them to remarry.
This time, Julian managed to stay faithful for a month before he cheated again.
Clara filed for divorce once more, cutting ties with him completely.
However, that very same day, it was revealed that Clara was not the real daughter of the Sterling family, and she was thrown out.
At her lowest point, Julian found her and solemnly promised to protect her from then on.
They remarried again, and from that day forward, the scandals surrounding Julian ceased.
Everyone said Clara was lucky. Even her best friend insisted that Julian had truly settled down, and Clara believed it.
Until she saw him in a hospital corridor, holding her best friend's hand, his voice strained with deep emotion, "I never liked her. You're the one I've always loved!"
It turned out all of his tenderness had been a lie.
This time, she walked away and never looked back.
And the man who had once treated her as disposable only realized after she was gone that he had long since drowned in her quiet love, unable to escape.
9.6
He rejected her under the moonlight. Now fate has thrown them into the same war...
Aria Ashborne was supposed to be forgotten the castaway of a fallen pack, the daughter of a disgraced Alpha. But fate has a cruel sense of humor. When Alpha Kaiden Blackthorn the brutal enforcer of the Northern Territories discovers she is his fated mate, he rejects her in front of the entire council, branding her unworthy.
But Aria doesn't beg. She doesn't break. She builds. She builds in silence.
Now a fierce warrior leading her own rebel wolves, she's forced into an uneasy alliance with Kaiden when a deadly new force begins tearing through the werewolf ranks. Old enemies. New secrets. And a bond neither of them can truly sever.
What happens when hate burns hotter than desire? And when the one person you swore to destroy... might be the only one who can save you?
8.9
Seventeen-year-old Nina Storm has spent her life running from her tragic past, her dormant wolf, and the dreams of a mysterious man she can't escape.
Raised by her protective father after her mother's death, she has never stayed in one place long enough to call it home. But everything changed when they return to their home, the Moonlight Pack.
Nina discovers that her mate is Zane, the pack's Alpha... a bond that defies werewolf laws and the pack's expectations. Their undeniable attraction is dangerous, and their bond threatens to disrupt the fragile balance of power within the pack.
When an attack on the pack shatters her world, Nina loses everything, including her life. But death isn't the end.
Reborn, her dormant wolf awakens giving her a newfound strength and powers, Nina must navigate a world of betrayal, love, and vengeance as she unravels the truth about her family, her mate bond, and the danger threatening to destroy everything she holds dear.
8.3
I was the "crazy girl" my family sent to a survivalist commune in Utah to rot. Four years later, I returned to Manhattan with a titanium USB drive and a heart full of ice, ready to blackmail the one man who could burn my family to the ground.
But I underestimated how much they hated me. My fiancé, Preston, was already laundering money through my inheritance and sleeping with my replacement. He didn't even flinch when I showed him the evidence of his crimes.
Instead, he grabbed me by the shoulders, smashed my phone, and shoved me out of his moving Lincoln into a midnight storm. I hit the wet pavement hard, my knees scraping against the asphalt as I watched him drive away, laughing about how I was a "dirt-poor exile" that nobody wanted.
Within minutes, my credit cards were flagged as stolen and my father’s lawyers were drafting a statement calling me mentally unstable. I was left shivering in a puddle of oily sludge, wearing a ruined Chanel suit, with no money, no home, and no one to hear me scream.
I couldn't understand how they could be so cruel. I was their flesh and blood, yet they treated me like a broken toy to be discarded in the trash. I was a "distressed asset" in a city that only valued gold.
That’s when a black armored SUV pulled to the curb. King Wagner—the ruthless shark of Wall Street and Preston’s own uncle—looked at my muddy face with cold, calculating eyes. He didn't offer me pity; he offered me a leash.
"You belong to me now," he whispered, pulling me into the dry warmth of his car. By the next morning, he had announced our engagement to the world, turning me into the very weapon that would slit my family's throat.
9.0
For four years, I traced the bullet scar on Chace’s chest, believing it was proof he would bleed to keep me safe.
On our anniversary, he told me to wear white because "tonight changes everything." I walked into the gala thinking I was getting a ring.
Instead, I stood frozen in the center of the ballroom, drowning in silk, watching him slide his mother's sapphire onto another woman's finger.
Karyn Warren. The daughter of a rival family.
When I begged him with my eyes to claim me, to save me from the public humiliation, he didn't flinch. He just leaned toward his Underboss, his voice amplified by the silence.
"Karyn is for power. Ember is for pleasure. Don't confuse the assets."
My heart didn't just break; it incinerated. He expected me to stay as his mistress, threatening to dig up my dead mother’s grave if I refused to play the obedient pet.
He thought I was trapped. He thought I had nowhere to go because of my father’s massive gambling debts.
He was wrong.
With shaking hands, I pulled out my phone and texted the one name I was never supposed to use.
Keith Mosley. The Don. The monster under Chace's bed.
*I am invoking the Blood Oath. My father’s debt. I am ready to pay it.*
His reply came three seconds later, buzzing against my palm like a warning.
*The price is marriage. You belong to me. Yes or No?*
I looked up at Chace, who was laughing with his new fiancée, thinking he owned me.
I looked down and typed three letters.
*Yes.*
7.1
I lay paralyzed on stiff white sheets, a prisoner in my own skin, listening to the rain lash against the window like nails on a coffin. My father, Elmore Franco, didn't even look at my face as he checked his clipboard. He just listened to the steady, monotonous beep of the heart monitor-the only thing proving I was still alive.
Without a hint of remorse, he pulled a pen from his pocket and signed the Do Not Resuscitate order. My stepmother, Ophelia, stepped out from behind him, wearing my favorite pearl necklace and smelling of cloying perfume. She leaned close to my ear to whisper the truth that turned my blood to ice.
"It was the tea, darling. Just like your mother. A slow, tasteless poison."
She chuckled as she revealed that my fiancé, Bryce, had a two-year-old son with my sister, Daniela. My inheritance had been funding their secret life for years, and now that the money was secure, I was an inconvenience they were finally scrubbing away. As my father yanked the power cord from the wall, the beeping died, and the darkness swallowed me whole.
I was being murdered by my own flesh and blood, used as a bank account until I was no longer needed. I died in that sterile room, drowning in the realization that every person I ever loved was a monster who had been waiting for me to take my last breath.
Then, I gasped. I woke up in a luxury hotel suite surrounded by silk sheets, five years in the past-the very morning of my wedding. Next to me lay Basile Delgado, the "Wolf of Wall Street" and my family's most dangerous enemy. In my first life, I ran from this room in a panic and lost everything. This time, I looked at the man who would eventually destroy my father's empire and decided to join him.
"I'm not leaving, Basile. Marry me. Right now. Today."