The Billionaire's Rival: My Sweet Revenge
I had spent two years playing the perfect Stepford Wife to billionaire Brittain Kane, acting as the obedient accessory while he built his empire. I played the fool until I found his second phone, the one filled with messages and photos of a nineteen-year-old hostess.
Determined to balance the scales, I checked into the Pierre Hotel and spent twenty-five thousand dollars to hire a high-end male escort. I wanted one night of rebellion to wash away the two years of humiliation and finally even the score.
But when the heavy footsteps stopped outside my door, the man who walked in wasn’t the professional I had booked. It was Harrison Juarez—my husband’s most ruthless business rival and supposed "best friend." He stood there in a suit that cost more than my car, holding a screenshot of my scandalous booking on his phone.
My blood turned to ice as I realized my carefully constructed exit plan was over. He had the proof, the leverage, and the power to leave me with nothing in a divorce. He mocked my "cheap courage" and told me that sleeping with a hired hand wouldn't hurt a man like Brittain; he’d just pay the guy off and buy me a new car to shut me up.
The fear inside me snapped, replaced by a cold, hard clarity. I looked at the man who held my life in his hands and realized he wasn't there to expose me. He was there because he was petty, effective, and wanted to destroy Brittain just as much as I did.
"If you really want to make Brittain Kane lose his mind," Harrison whispered, his voice rough against my ear, "you don't need a gigolo. You need me."
I didn't hesitate. I reached into my bag, pulled out my husband’s black Centurion card, and tossed it at my husband's greatest enemy. I told him to book the most expensive penthouse in the city, because if I was going to ruin my marriage, I was going to do it on Brittain’s dime with the one man he feared most.
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Chapter 2
The suggestion hung in the air, heavy and electric. Angelina stood frozen, her mind racing, processing the data. Harrison Juarez. Brittain's shadow. The man Brittain competed with for every deal, every headline, every accolade.
"You?" she asked. A laugh bubbled up in her throat, sharp and incredulous. She stepped back, putting distance between them. "You want to sleep with me? To get back at Brittain?"
Harrison shrugged. He walked over to the armchair and sat down, spreading his legs comfortably, claiming the space. "He took the port authority deal from me last week. I'm feeling petty."
"You're disgusting," she said.
"I'm effective," he countered. "Think about it, Angelina. You sleep with Kyle the escort, you get a momentary release and a potential blackmail risk. You sleep with me... and you destroy Brittain's ego forever. He can dismiss a hired hand. He can't dismiss me."
He was right. The logic was flawless. It was Machiavellian. It was exactly how she thought.
She walked to the window, looking out at the dark expanse of Central Park. Brittain had been cheating on her since the honeymoon. He treated her like a fixture, a lamp to be turned on when guests arrived. He thought she was stupid. He thought she was safe.
Sleeping with Harrison Juarez was a nuclear option. It was dangerous. It was reckless.
It was perfect.
She turned back to him. The hesitation was gone. "I have conditions."
Harrison raised an eyebrow, amused. "Do you?"
"This is a transaction," she said, her voice steady. "No feelings. No clinging. When we walk out of here, it never happened until I decide to use it."
"Agreed," Harrison said. He stood up. "I make it a rule not to fall for married women anyway."
"And one more thing," Angelina said. She reached into her bag and pulled out a sleek, black titanium card. Brittain's Centurion card. "I hate this room. It smells like stale lavender and desperation."
She tossed the card at him. Harrison caught it against his chest with one hand.
"Book the Penthouse," she commanded. "If I'm going to ruin my marriage, I'm going to do it on his dime. I want the most expensive suite in the city."
Harrison looked down at the card. Brittain Kane. Then he looked back at her. A slow, genuine grin spread across his face. It changed his entire demeanor, making him look younger, more dangerous.
"You are full of surprises, Mrs. Kane," he said.
He pulled out his phone and dialed the front desk. "This is Harrison Juarez. I need the Presidential Suite. Immediately. Charge it to the card I'll present at the desk... Yes, put a rush on it."
He hung up and extended a hand toward the door. "Shall we?"
Angelina looked at his hand. Large, calloused, steady. Taking it meant crossing a line she could never uncross.
She didn't take his hand. She walked past him, her head high, the heels of her shoes clicking rhythmically on the hardwood floor.
"Keep up, Juarez," she said.
Harrison let out a low laugh and followed her.
The elevator ride was silent. The air in the small metal box felt thin. They stood side by side, not touching, but the heat between them was palpable. Angelina watched their reflection in the polished brass doors. They looked like a power couple. They looked like predators.
The elevator surged upward, the gravity pressing down on her, making her knees weak. Or maybe that wasn't gravity.
The doors chimed and slid open. The penthouse foyer stretched out before them, marble floors gleaming under the crystal chandelier.
Harrison stepped out first. He turned to face her, loosening his tie with one hand. The amusement was gone from his face, replaced by a dark, focused intensity.
"Last chance to run, Angelina," he said softly.
Angelina stepped out of the elevator. "Shut the door, Harrison."
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7.1
After five years in a federal prison, framed by my stepmother and fiancé, I was finally released.
Instead of a welcome home, my stepmother tossed me a one-way ticket to Geneva and a threat: renounce the family name and disappear, or end up in the Hudson River.
When our limo was suddenly ambushed by military-grade SUVs on the highway, their cowardice almost got us killed.
I took the wheel, crashed the attackers, and saved their lives.
But the moment the danger passed, my stepmother tried to slap me, called me a psycho, and abandoned me on the desolate roadside.
My ex-fiancé later cornered me in public, trying to assert his dominance by grabbing my arm.
They still thought I was the broken girl they sent to a cage just so they could steal my dead mother's biochemical research.
I didn't feel heartbreak, only a cold, absolute certainty.
They threw me to the wolves, not realizing the federal penitentiary had burned away my capacity for mercy.
I hacked into the dark web and found out Dante Meltoni, the most dangerous Mafia Don in New York, was tearing the city apart to find a legendary underground doctor.
I am that doctor.
I walked straight into his heavily guarded fortress, pulled out a syringe, and saved his dying grandfather.
Then I looked the terrifying Don right in the eye.
"Marry me. And let me use your empire to wipe my family off the map."
7.5
Celine loves her lover Zack very much. It was so deep that he was willing to introduce her to his father. All he got was a wound. Zack suddenly turned cold, walked away for no reason, then had the heart to return his longing with a rude attitude.
When a status on social media reveals Zack's dark side, which is hungry for women and money, Celine's heart is broken.
What's more surprising is that none of this is a coincidence. Zack wanted to destroy it. But in the midst of the destruction, there was one person who stood silently behind Celine, Arlend. The man who had been harboring feelings, was not willing to see Celine fall too deep.
Just as Celine is about to end her life on the city bridge, Arlend arrives. He saved Celine's body and possibly her soul. From that day on, Arlend vowed never to leave Celine alone again.
But Celine's wound was not finished. When Adiwangsa was threatened with bankruptcy, his position as leader was shaken. And when he chooses to secretly marry Arlend, Zack's shadow hasn't really gone from Celine's side.
How can Celine deal with all this? Between the past, and the man who is now with her.
7.2
"Still playing dirty, Huntress?" he taunted, pinning me with those piercing grey-blue eyes.
"Still hiding behind your daddy's money, Reaper?" I shot back, my blood boiling.
Lanaya Roux and Maverick Hayden are college hockey royalty-and bitter rivals. As the captains of competing university teams, their hatred on the ice is matched only by the legendary feud between their billionaire families' empires.
But when their ruthless fathers force them into a fake engagement to secure an $18 billion corporate merger, Lanaya and Maverick are thrown into the ultimate game of survival.
The rules are simple: Live together in the same penthouse. Smile for the cameras. Pretend to be madly in love for six months.
It was supposed to be strictly business. But behind closed doors, the venom they spit at each other quickly morphs into a scorching, undeniable addiction. Maverick is an arrogant, aggressively protective alpha who refuses to let her go, and Lanaya is the fiercely independent captain who refuses to submit.
Beneath their explosive chemistry lies a devastating secret: a shared tragedy from eight years ago that claimed the life of Lanaya's brother and shattered their innocent childhood bond.
With the national hockey championship on the line, scandalous secrets surfacing, and unseen enemies sabotaging their every move, the line between love and hate has never been so dangerous.
What happens when the fake engagement to your worst enemy becomes the only real thing in your life?
9.6
For four years, I played the perfect, naive, low-income wife to my wealthy husband Duke, completely hiding my true identity as a top-secret DARPA scientist.
On our anniversary, I discovered he was having an affair with an old-money socialite named Adelia.
He used our marital assets to buy her a half-million-dollar Birkin bag, but that wasn't the worst part.
While hiding in a parking garage, I recorded him telling his mistress that the daily prenatal vitamins he lovingly gave me were actually high-dose contraceptives.
He had secretly sterilized me to ensure I would never produce a "low-class" heir, planning to toss me aside with a tiny settlement in six months.
When I confronted him, he violently attacked me, smashed my head against a marble dresser, and locked me in our bedroom.
I thought of the four years I spent crying in doctors' offices, blaming my own body for my infertility, while he held my hand and comforted me with perfect, monstrous concern.
I didn't wait to be punished.
I climbed down the second-story balcony in the dark, leaving behind every diamond and luxury bag he had ever given me.
Sitting in the back of a taxi, I wiped the blood from my forehead and opened a secure app on my phone.
"Divorce fraud. Initiate sequence."
It was time for him to finally meet Dr. Patterson.
7.9
On my wedding day, my fiancé Connor received an urgent phone call.
He told me a D-list actress had broken her leg on set, then abandoned me right at the altar.
In my past life, I cried until my throat bled, begging him not to leave.
But my tears only brought endless humiliation. My mother and adopted sister mocked me, framed me, and forged my signature to steal my multi-million dollar trust fund.
They kicked me out of the family estate without a single dime.
I ended up freezing to death in the minus-twenty-degree New York blizzard, listening to my mother's voicemail telling me to die in the street as long as I didn't bleed on her carpets.
Until my last breath, I couldn't understand why my own blood relatives hated me so much, yet treated an adopted daughter like a precious princess.
The only person who showed me any mercy—draping his wool coat over my frozen corpse and giving me a proper burial—was Connor's ruthless, untouchable uncle, Harding Snow.
Opening my eyes again, I was back in the bridal suite, right as Connor was rushing out the door.
This time, I didn't shed a single tear.
I let him run to his actress, then walked straight into the VIP room to face the most feared billionaire on Wall Street.
"The wedding proceeds as planned, but the groom's name changes to yours."
8.6
Desperation is one of the world's worst vices. It can control the lives of people, including the poor, the middle class, and surprisingly, the wealthy.
Elena Parker is the only child of Mr and Mrs Desmond Parker,the well known billionaires in the city ranked among the top three richest men in the world.
Her relentless search for a partner to produce an heir to the riches seemed to no avail until one faithful day which forever changed her life.