The Billionaire's Secret Ten Year Obsession
Brooke was supposed to marry her fiancé, Gaven, in less than twenty-four hours to secure her sick mother's corporate legacy.
But the night before the wedding, she followed a mysterious text to a hotel suite, only to find Gaven pressing her half-sister against a sofa.
Through the crack in the door, she recorded their sickening moans and their cold conspiracy to drain her mother's company the moment the marriage papers were signed.
At the altar the next day, Brooke didn't say "I do."
Instead, she hijacked the church's projector, broadcasting their sex tape and offshore fraud documents to hundreds of wealthy guests.
But instead of supporting her, her own father stormed the altar and slapped her across the face with brutal force.
He cared more about the corporate merger than his daughter, threatening to blacklist her from the industry, while Gaven vowed to completely destroy her.
Bleeding and stripped of her family ties, Brooke walked out into a freezing downpour, completely isolated against a powerful family ready to ruin her sick mother's life's work.
She had no money, no allies, and nowhere to go.
Just as a furious Gaven chased her into the street, a massive black Maybach sliced through the rain and pulled up in front of her.
Inside sat Foster Pruitt, the ruthless, terrifying billionaire whose life she had accidentally saved from a car wreck the night before.
Knowing he desperately needed a wife to secure his own empire, Brooke climbed into his car and looked at the most dangerous man in the city.
"Marry me."
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Chapter 7
The name hit Brooke like a physical blow to the chest.
Foster Pruitt.
Her eyes widened in absolute shock. She stared at the man sitting inches away from her, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs.
The Pruitt family wasn't just wealthy. They were royalty. They controlled the energy grids and telecommunications networks across the entire country. And Foster Pruitt was the ruthless, cold-blooded tyrant who sat at the top of the empire.
Brooke instinctively pressed herself against the car door, pulling the trench coat tighter around her neck. Her survival instincts screamed at her. She had just jumped from a snake pit directly into a lion's den.
Foster noticed her shrinking away. A flicker of irritation crossed his dark eyes, but he didn't say anything. He simply picked up his laptop and opened it again.
The silence in the car was heavy, broken only by the sharp, rhythmic tapping of his fingers on the keyboard.
Suddenly, Brooke's phone began to vibrate violently in her hand.
The screen lit up with a barrage of text messages.
Prescott: You little bitch. You ruined the family. I will make sure you never work in this state again.
Gaven: You're dead, Brooke. I'm going to destroy you.
Brooke stared at the hateful words. The blood drained from her face. Her fingers gripped the edges of the phone so tightly her knuckles ached. A cold sweat broke out on the back of her neck.
Foster's peripheral vision caught the glow of the screen. He saw the messages.
His jaw locked. Without a word, he reached across the seat and snatched the phone right out of her hands.
"Hey!" Brooke gasped, reaching for it.
Foster pressed the power button, holding it down until the screen went black. He tossed the phone into the center console and snapped the lid shut.
"You are off the clock," Foster said coldly, his eyes fixed on his laptop.
Brooke sat frozen. His sheer dominance left her speechless, but deep down, a strange, warm knot of relief loosened in her chest.
The Maybach smoothly descended into a private, brightly lit underground garage. It was the parking vault for one of the most exclusive penthouses in Century City, Los Angeles.
As the car rolled to a stop, Foster's private cell phone rang. The sharp, abrasive ringtone shattered the quiet of the cabin.
Foster glanced at the caller ID. The muscles in his neck tightened. He answered the call and put it on speaker, making no effort to hide the conversation from Brooke.
"Foster," an elderly, booming voice barked through the phone. It was Harrison Pruitt, the patriarch of the family. "I am losing my patience. The board is demanding stability. You will return to New York and marry the Sinclair girl by the end of the month."
"My marriage is not a board decision," Foster replied, his voice dangerously low.
"If you don't secure a wife and project a stable image, I will transfer control of the European energy sector to your brothers," Harrison threatened. "Are you still waiting for that ghost? That woman from ten years ago? She's gone, Foster. Wake up."
At the mention of the woman from ten years ago, Foster's eyes turned pitch black. A terrifying aura of violence radiated from his body.
He hit the end call button with enough force to crack the screen.
The temperature in the car plummeted. Brooke held her breath, terrified to make a sound.
But as she sat there in the freezing silence, a wild, reckless idea ignited in her brain.
She had just declared war on her father and Gaven. They were going to come for her mother's company with everything they had. She needed armor. She needed a weapon they couldn't touch.
And Foster Pruitt desperately needed a wife to get his grandfather off his back.
It was insane. It was suicidal. But it was perfect.
Brooke took a deep breath. She forced her shaking hands to relax. She turned her head and looked directly into Foster's furious, dark eyes.
"Mr. Pruitt," Brooke said. Her voice trembled slightly, but she forced the words out. "We need to talk."
Foster slowly turned his head. The lethal anger in his eyes faded into a look of dark amusement. He raised a single eyebrow.
"Talk about what?" he asked softly.
Brooke swallowed the lump in her throat. She pushed herself up slightly, refusing to break eye contact.
"You need a wife to secure your company," Brooke said, her words coming out in a rush. "And I need a shield to protect mine."
She paused, her heart beating so fast she felt dizzy. She dropped the bomb.
"I am willing to marry you. We sign a contract. We help each other, and we stay out of each other's way."
The air in the car evaporated.
Foster didn't blink. He didn't move. He just stared at her, his dark eyes stripping her down to her soul, assessing her like a predator looking at its willing prey.
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8.9
For seven years, I hid my MIT Ph.D. and my identity as a top haute couture designer to be the perfect, obedient wife to billionaire Cornelius Lambert.
But on our anniversary, while I waited at home with a cold dinner, I found him at a Michelin restaurant with his childhood sweetheart, Halle.
My seven-year-old son sat between them, laughing loudly.
"Mom is too boring. I wish Aunt Halle was my real mom."
Cornelius didn't defend me. He just smiled and affectionately ruffled the boy's hair.
When I finally packed my bags and left, I accidentally triggered an old AI robot prototype Cornelius had given me years ago.
A hidden recording played his voice from the very night he proposed.
"Why marry her? Because she's easy to control. Halle doesn't want to settle down yet, so Cassidy is just a perfect, temporary shield."
Later, when I caught them being intimate in a dark parking garage and snapped a photo, Cornelius watched with cold, dead eyes as his massive bodyguard shoved me against a concrete pillar.
My arm was torn open, blood dripping onto the floor, as they forced me to delete the evidence of his affair.
For seven years, I filed down every sharp edge of my brilliance for a man who saw me as nothing but a pathetic, disposable placeholder.
My heart turned to absolute ice. He thought I was just a weak, powerless housewife.
But he forgot who he was dealing with.
As his luxury car drove away, I pulled up the hidden command terminal on my phone and recovered the encrypted cloud backup of the photos.
I looked at my lawyer with a bleeding arm and a cold smile.
"Let's go. Now, we have a weapon."
8.5
A brutal fire had Brenna's mother abandon her.
When the family finally "reunited" with her, she was a scarred outcast mucking stalls and tending horses in the countryside.
They tore into her icily. "We only brought you back to marry in your sister's place. Don't you dare bring disgrace on us!"
Disgusted, Brenna cut them off.
Then the truth surfaced-a famed jeweler called her mentor, a top hospital director named her heir, an elite hacker circle bowed to her, and her scars faded into stunning beauty.
Regrets came too late. She was already in a tycoon's arms.
Vincent, a power player straddling both business and illegal worlds, had a secret: he was colorblind.
That was until Brenna unexpectedly burst into his life, bringing colors back into his world.
At first, he never thought he could fall for this seemingly unattractive woman, yet as time passed, his heart surrendered...
9.7
Pastry chef Olivia Chen is drowning in debt when billionaire Ashton Blackwell makes her an offer: marry him for one year to secure his inheritance, and he'll pay off everything plus give her a million dollars. No love, just business.
But fake vows become real feelings, and when Ashton's vengeful ex returns with devastating family secrets, Olivia must choose between protecting the man she's fallen for and exposing the truth that could destroy him.
In a world of lies and betrayal, their contract marriage might be the only real thing worth fighting for.
9.3
I lay on the wet asphalt, the cold rain mixing with the metallic taste of blood pooling in my mouth. My lungs were heavy, filling with fluid as my life ebbed away. Through swollen eyelids, I saw my lover, Clovis, and my stepsister, Alanna, standing over me with looks of pure triumph.
"Thanks for the trust fund, sister," Alanna whispered, shoving a phone screen in front of my dying eyes. The headline was a jagged blade to my soul: Caesar Williamson, the "tyrant" husband I had fled from, was dead in a multi-car collision. He had died trying to rescue me, thinking I was in danger.
The realization shattered what was left of my heart. The man I had spent years painting as a monster had driven into hell to save me, while the man I thought was my safety was the one who had just crushed my ribs with an iron bar. I had played right into their hands, ruining my reputation and my marriage for a lie. I watched them walk away, leaving me to choke on my own blood in the dark, discarded like a bag of trash.
I wanted to scream, to beg the universe for a rewind button, to tell Caesar I was sorry. The darkness pressed down on me, heavier than the betrayal, as my world finally went black.
Then, I was screaming.
I shot up in bed, gasping for air like a drowning woman breaking the surface. I scrambled at my abdomen—smooth skin, no blood, no tear. I grabbed my phone and saw the date: it was three years ago, the morning of my wedding to the Williamson estate.
I didn't waste a second. I scrubbed the "unstable" makeup from my face, threw on a white silk dress, and blocked the man who would eventually kill me. This time, I wasn't running away from the manor. I was going back to the husband I had once feared, ready to save the only man who had ever truly loved me.
9.0
Eileen woke up in a trashed hotel room, her head pounding with the pathetic memories of a despised Hollywood actress.
Outside the window, paparazzi were already screaming about her manufactured cheating scandal, but the real nightmare was waiting at her door.
Her paralyzed, billionaire husband, Carlisle Vinson, looked at her with pure disgust while his butler shoved a divorce settlement at her chest.
"Mr. Vinson is offering a severance package of fifty million dollars, provided you sign immediately and vacate the premises."
The original owner had left her an absolute mess.
Her trusted assistant had sold her room number to the press to frame her, and a playboy had scammed her out of her entire two million dollar life savings.
If she signed those papers and lost the Vinson family's protection, the breach of contract fees and her enemies in the industry would swallow her alive in days.
Eileen felt a cold fury override the original owner's lingering panic.
Why should she take the fall and be thrown out on the streets while the parasites who set her up lived out their wealthy fantasies?
She had died once, and she wasn't about to waste her second chance playing the victim.
Eileen slammed the heavy divorce folder shut right against the butler's chest.
"I'm not signing," she said with a terrifying, absolute calm.
She stepped behind her husband's wheelchair, ready to shield him from the cameras, secretly cure his dead legs, and make everyone who betrayed her bleed.
9.1
Ava Montgomery has it all. Wealth, beauty, and a life that everyone envies. By night, she becomes someone no one would expect. She is a masked vigilante who fights corruption inside her own family's empire.
Leo Kane is smart, charming, and dangerous. His family was ruined by Ava's father and he is determined to get revenge. When he meets Ava, sparks fly, but he does not know she is the very enemy he is hunting.
Secrets and lies surround them. Every smile hides the truth. Every touch is risky. Ava and Leo must navigate a world full of betrayal, passion, and danger before the city, their families, and their hearts are destroyed.