The Billionaire's Secret Blood Sacrifice Bride
Cora thought she was the luckiest woman alive, married to a devoted tech billionaire who showered her with custom haute couture and obsessive care.
But his "protection" involved locking her inside their San Francisco estate, forcing her to swallow foul neon-green supplements, and drawing her blood with highly classified veterinary needles.
She thought it was just his extreme paranoia, until a cynical doctor cornered her at a charity gala.
"Kendrick isn't raising a wife. He's curating a very rare, very fragile medical specimen. You're his personal pharmacy."
Terrified, Cora broke into Kendrick's hidden safe and found a medical report approving her total bone marrow and stem cell depletion.
Kendrick wasn't a doting husband. He was raising her as a human bloodbag to save his terminally ill cousin.
When she nearly uncovered the truth, Kendrick cried fake tears, claiming he only needed her antibodies.
"Tomorrow, we are going to my private island in the Caribbean. Just the two of us. No internet. No guards. Just peace."
Cora almost believed his vulnerable act, deeply confused by how a man who kissed her so tenderly could plan to slaughter her in cold blood.
Then, while packing for the trip, she dropped a wooden box, revealing a hidden flight manifesto.
Kendrick's return date was listed. Hers was completely blank.
Stapled to the back was a clinical schedule: Intensive Marrow Harvesting - Final Stage. Patient will not require return transport.
Hearing his heavy footsteps echoing in the hallway, Cora gripped the sharp edges of the broken box.
She was not going to be a slaughtered lamb on that island.
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Chapter 1
Cora tried to push herself up from the velvet mattress, but a violent wave of dizziness slammed her right back into the pillows.
Her vision blurred. The room spun in sickening circles. Before she could even catch her breath, the smart blackout curtains hummed to life, sliding open automatically. Harsh, blinding California sunlight flooded the master bedroom of the San Francisco estate.
Cora flinched, instinctively throwing her arm over her eyes to block the glare.
The heavy oak door clicked open. Kendrick walked in, carrying a silver tray. The moment his eyes landed on her pale face and furrowed brow, his jaw tightened. He set the tray down on the nightstand with a sharp clatter.
He sat on the edge of the bed. His large, warm palm pressed firmly against her forehead. His dark eyes scanned her face with a suffocating level of intensity.
"You're pale," Kendrick said, his voice a low, demanding rumble. "How is your body feeling? Tell me exactly."
Cora forced a weak smile, trying to sit up again. "I'm fine, Kendrick. Just a little dizzy-"
He didn't let her finish. His hands gripped her shoulders, pushing her back under the heavy duvet with a force that left no room for argument.
"Strict bed rest," he ordered, his tone leaving zero room for negotiation. "You are not pushing yourself today."
He turned to the silver tray and picked up a sterile blood collection needle. The plastic wrapper crinkled loudly in the quiet room. He kept his voice sickeningly soft, like he was talking to a frightened child.
"Just the routine health monitor, sweetheart. Give me your arm."
Cora stared at the sharp, gleaming tip of the needle. A cold spike of fear hit her chest. She instinctively shrank back, pulling her arm closer to her ribs.
Kendrick's eyes darkened instantly. The warmth vanished from his face, replaced by a cold, dead stare. But it only lasted a fraction of a second. He blinked, and the gentle, doting husband returned. He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the back of her trembling hand.
"It's just to keep you safe, Cora. You know I worry."
The cold metal of the needle pierced her vein. Cora bit down hard on her lower lip. She watched the dark red blood flow rapidly into the collection tube. Her stomach churned.
Kendrick pulled the needle out with practiced precision. He pressed a cotton swab hard against the puncture wound, then carefully placed the vial of her blood into a temperature-controlled lockbox on the tray.
Next, he picked up a glass filled with a thick, neon-green liquid. He held it to her lips. His eyes locked onto hers, unblinking and absolute.
Cora smelled the metallic, chalky odor of the liquid. Her throat closed up in disgust. But under his heavy gaze, she opened her mouth and swallowed the foul-tasting supplement. Her stomach violently rejected it, twisting in knots, but she forced her face to remain completely blank.
Kendrick smiled. He reached out, his thumb gently wiping a drop of green liquid from the corner of her mouth. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. It felt like a reward for a well-trained pet.
The silence in the room was shattered by a harsh buzzing. Cora's phone vibrated violently on the nightstand. The screen flashed with the name Blanch.
Cora reached for it, her heart jumping. Kendrick's hand shot out, grabbing the phone first. Without a second of hesitation, he hit the red button and rejected the call. His face was a mask of stone.
"Kendrick, wait," Cora pleaded, panic rising in her throat. "There might be an emergency at home. Let me just-"
She reached for the phone, but he tossed it out of her reach. He grabbed her waist, pulling her hard against his chest.
"I told you," he whispered against her ear, his voice a dark warning. "I am not letting your toxic family drain your blood anymore. You are mine to protect now."
The words drain your blood sent a physical chill down her spine. Cora's mind flashed back to the damp, pitch-black basement in Ohio where Blanch used to lock her up. Her body began to tremble uncontrollably against his expensive shirt.
Kendrick felt her shaking. His arms tightened around her like a vice, crushing her ribs.
"I will always protect you," he murmured into her hair. "Always."
A polite knock sounded at the door. The butler's voice filtered through the wood. "Mr. Pope, the Wall Street video conference is starting in two minutes."
Kendrick let out a heavy sigh. He slowly released her, standing up and adjusting the cuffs of his tailored suit. In a blink, he transformed back into the ruthless tech billionaire.
He walked to the door, stopping with his hand on the knob. He didn't look back at her. He looked straight at the butler in the hallway.
"The madam is not to leave the villa today," Kendrick ordered, his voice echoing with cold authority. "Not a single step."
The heavy door slammed shut. The deadbolt clicked loudly. The sound echoed in the massive bedroom, making Cora's skin crawl.
She threw off the duvet. Her bare feet hit the freezing marble floor. She walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows and looked down. A fleet of black SUVs surrounded Kendrick's car as it pulled out of the estate gates. Her chest tightened so hard she couldn't pull in a full breath.
Her phone buzzed again. It was a text from Blanch.
You ungrateful little bastard. Pick up the phone.
Cora stared at the screen. Her eyes burned. She slammed the phone face-down on the glass table, her hands shaking as she tried to force air into her lungs.
She turned and walked into the master bathroom to wash her face. As she reached for the sink, her eyes caught something in the stainless steel trash can.
It was the plastic wrapper from the blood collection needle Kendrick had just used.
Cora bent down and picked it up. She turned it over. At the bottom, printed in stark red ink, was a string of numbers and letters. It wasn't a standard lab code. It was a highly classified hematology research code-the kind used for experimental plasma extraction.
Her blood ran ice cold. Why would a routine health check require a specialized plasma extraction kit? The metallic taste of the green supplement rushed back up her throat, suddenly feeling less like a vitamin and more like a chemical catalyst.
Heavy footsteps echoed in the hallway outside her bedroom. The guards were patrolling. Cora gasped, her hands shaking violently as she shoved the plastic wrapper deep into the pocket of her silk pajamas. Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird.
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7.6
Isolde Mitchell knew her wealthy husband was cheating on her, but the true nightmare began when her mother-in-law summoned her.
The older woman coldly announced that the mistress was pregnant with a boy and would be moving into their estate.
Because Isolde's family had gone bankrupt and she had only given birth to a frail daughter, she was deemed completely worthless.
When Isolde packed her bags and demanded a divorce, her husband Clark just laughed.
He threatened to use their ironclad prenup to leave her penniless and take full custody of her daughter just to torture her.
To make matters worse, he forced Isolde to secure a failing business deal with the ruthless billionaire Jacques Valdez, essentially ordering her to sell her body to get the signature.
"If you fail, you will never see Bria again."
He even sent his goons to snatch the little girl from her preschool to prove his point.
Isolde was completely cornered, trembling with a mix of rage and absolute despair.
How could the man she married be such a monster? She would rather die than let them destroy her daughter, but how could a bankrupt mother fight a powerful dynasty with absolutely nothing?
Out of options, she looked at the private business card the terrifying billionaire Jacques had unexpectedly given her daughter.
Swallowing her pride, she decided to make a deal with the devil himself, ready to use his power to tear her husband's family apart.
8.6
As the eldest daughter of the Sharp family, I was treated worse than a stray dog, while my younger sister Seraphina was their precious princess.
When the family needed someone to marry a dying billionaire heir, they naturally chose me to take her place.
To force my consent, my brothers held a peanut butter sandwich to my face—knowing it was a lethal allergy—while dangling my EpiPen just out of reach.
On speakerphone, my own mother sighed in annoyance.
"Let her die. It might be for the best."
I choked out an agreement just as my throat closed up. But the forced engagement broke my sacred mystical vow, causing me to violently cough up my own lifeblood.
Seeing the blood, Seraphina dramatically fainted. My brothers instantly carried her to the hospital, stepping over my dying body and leaving me to bleed out on the cold marble floor.
I had to use a forbidden blood rune, draining my last ounce of strength, just to survive the night.
Even the mystical Order I served offered no comfort, calling only to demand I secure ten billion dollars for them or forfeit my soul for eternity.
Abandoned by my blood family and my spiritual master, I was completely alone, left with nothing but a broken body and a ticking clock.
But they made one fatal mistake: they let me live.
I turned to the dying heir they forced me to marry, a man plagued by a dark curse only I could cure.
"I will be your wife, and I will save your life," I told him.
In exchange, I would use his unimaginable wealth and power to make everyone who threw me away pay the ultimate price.
8.5
I was supposed to marry Aaron, the future Alpha of the Blackwood Pack, and finally have my fairy tale.
But right before our Unity Celebration, I caught him buried between my stepsister's legs in our bridal suite.
When I refused to bind my soul to his at the altar and exposed his betrayal, my world completely shattered.
My own mother called me a crazy, wolfless bitch and disowned me on the spot for ruining a political alliance.
Aaron publicly humiliated me, screaming that as a wolfless Omega, I should have been on my knees thanking him for the chance to be his breeding mare.
Driven to absolute despair by the betrayal of everyone I trusted, I tried to jump off a freezing roof.
But a pair of strong arms pulled me back from the edge.
In the dark, a stranger consumed my grief, wrapping me in a terrifyingly dominant scent of cedar and leather, making me feel an intoxicating mate bond I thought I was incapable of having.
I thought it was just a desperate, one-night mistake to make me forget.
But the next morning, when I went to the Blackwood estate to return Aaron's gifts and leave as a Rogue, a suffocating aura filled the room.
The man who stepped between me and my furious ex-fiancé, the man whose marks were currently hidden beneath my clothes, stared at me with glowing golden eyes.
"Get your hands off her."
He was Kaelon Blackwood. The supreme Alpha King.
Aaron's father.
And he had just locked the door, declaring that I belonged to him.
9.4
Vera thought her life was over the moment she caught her fiancee cheating with his ex.
Broken and filled with pain, she is approached by a billionaire who presents a simple contract to her. Let's get married.
Sylas Gold is the man admired by the entire world. He is untouchable, powerful and incredibly controlled. Their marriage was supposed to be a contract. A performance. It was a way for both of them to win.
When Vera is kidnapped by a man who looks at her like she's already his, she learns the truth Sylas never told her, about his mafia empire, the blood, and the brother who was supposed to be gone.
Cassian Gold is the man who wants everything his brother has, including Vera.
Now caught between two brothers bound by hatred, power, and obsession, Vera must decide who to trust in a world where love is dangerous, loyalty is fragile, and desire might just be her downfall.
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.
8.0
Claire spent every waking moment protecting the transplanted heart beating inside her billionaire husband, Cooper. Though his grandfather forced their marriage, she loved him enough to endure his endless coldness.
When she received a frantic text saying Cooper was in a fatal car wreck, she ran through a freezing storm to save him. But she pushed open the VIP club doors only to find no doctors. Instead, Cooper was making out with his mistress, Kendall, while his wealthy friends erupted into malicious laughter at Claire's soaked, panicked state. It was all a cruel prank.
To force a divorce, Cooper treated her like garbage. He threw the custom meals she secretly cooked for his failing liver into the trash, giving Kendall the credit. When Claire begged him to stop drinking hard liquor for the sake of his fragile heart, he made a sickening demand.
"Go kiss that waiter on the mouth right now, and I won't touch another drop."
To keep him alive, Claire swallowed her pride and kissed the terrified boy while cameras flashed.
But her total degradation didn't earn his mercy. Cooper called her a sickening gold digger and walked out with his mistress, leaving Claire to the wolves. His best friend poured a sticky martini over her head, tore the strap of her dress, and raised a massive fist to smash her face. She had sacrificed her soul to keep his heart beating, only to be destroyed by it.
Just as the fist swung down, the heavy oak door was kicked off its hinges. Cooper stood in the doorway, his eyes burning with a terrifying, primal fury. He had only returned for a forgotten phone, but seeing another man's hands on his legal wife ignited a possessive rage that was about to burn the entire room down.