The Billionaire's Twisted Crown
When Scarlett Brooks' world shatters after her boyfriend proposes to her cousin, she thinks heartbreak is the end of her story-until a drunken, impulsive kiss with billionaire Alejandro Moritz sparks a scandal and traps her in a marriage of convenience.
What she didn't know is that Alejandro is running from his own trap: an arranged marriage to a woman he despises.
Now, Scarlett finds herself entangled in a high-stakes game of power, secrets, and revenge. In a world where loyalty is a luxury and love is a gamble, Scarlett must navigate a dangerous new life where nothing is as it seems.
As an unexpected spark ignites between them, Scarlett and Alejandro must decide.
In this journey of secrets and revenge can two broken hearts rewrite their destinies?
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Chapter 5
That's all Alejandro said.
Scarlett blinked. No ceremony. No vows. Just ink on paper.
A thick manila folder was placed on the desk between them, its contents far heavier than the paper it held.
The registrar cleared his throat again. "These are the legal documents. Once signed, the marriage will be binding under the federal law."
Scarlett's fingers trembled slightly as she reached for the pen. Her eyes scanned the document, the words blurring for a moment: Spouse A: Scarlett Brooks. Spouse B: Alejandro Moritz.
Her name beside his. It didn't feel real.
She glanced at Alejandro. He was calm, unreadable, his posture relaxed as if this were just another business transaction. His pen was already in hand, poised.
Scarlett hesitated.
This is insane. I don't even know him. I'm really doing this because I was humiliated. Scarlett really wanted to leave and forget about this whole mistake but she couldn't.
She inhaled sharply, then signed her name. Each letter felt like a step to her death.
Alejandro didn't pause. He signed with a swift, practiced motion, like he'd done this a hundred times before. His signature was bold and confident.
The registrar took the papers, stamped them with a loud thud that echoed in the silent room.
"Congratulations," he said, barely glancing up. "You're legally married."
Scarlett stared at the certificate. Her name beside his. Mrs. Scarlett Moritz. The title felt foreign and heavy.
Alejandro stood and adjusted his cufflinks. "Let's go."
As they walked out, a photographer clearly hired snapped a few shots. Scarlett turned to Alejandro, confused.
"Why the photos?" She asked.
Alejandro smirked. "We need to make it look real. For the press and for my mother. And you can consider this the first step to start your revenge against Harry."
Scarlett nodded slowly. "You're right. It needs to be real."
They climbed back into the car. This time, Alejandro looked at her directly.
"From now on, we play the part. Publicly and privately, we're husband and wife. No feelings attached. And no complications."
Scarlett met his gaze. "Aren't we going to sign a contract stating the period of our marriage?"
"No, we don't need it, whether it's going to end or not depends on my decision alone".
"But earlier I told you I'll only be a temporary wife and you agreed, don't tell me I've been tricked".
"I told you, we'll see about it, I didn't make any promise to you". He said.
Scarlett snapped."You should've been clear about it, and not made me fall into your trap, I clearly remembered you agreeing to my terms".
With a sharp tone. Alejandro said. "You know you should be facing a defamation lawsuit right now. Don't you?"
I...know, but...
"Just shut your pretty mouth and be a good girl. Okay".
Scarlett was speechless. Her head bowed low, as one thought just kept ringing through her head. How has she stupidly gotten here, because of some stupid proposal.
As the car pulled away, she couldn't help but ask herself. I've i made a mistake?. Is my revenge even worth it to be tied to a man like Alejandro Moritz?.
Scarlett's thoughts were a tangled mess. She stared out the car window, watching the city blur past in streaks of gold and gray. Her heart felt heavy, As they raced through her mind, lost in them. She couldn't believe she was married, out of impulse, just to take revenge. But for once, she wanted to use this opportunity to get back at them.
She had married Alejandro Moritz, a billionaire and of all aspects a stranger. All to put Isabella in her place. But now, sitting beside him in silence, she realized how little she knew about the man she'd just signed her life to.
Still, something didn't sit right. Scarlett felt there was more Alejandro wasn't letting out about his reason for agreeing to the contract. For crying out loud, she knew nothing about him.
She'd tried Googling him earlier. All she found were polished headlines: philanthropist, investor, economic powerhouse. And about his age: Thirty-four years old.
Scarlett couldn't believe he's actually eleven years older than her.
He had no scandals. No ex's. No drama. Just power, privacy, and perfection.
Too perfect, she thought. And that scared her a lot.
Her own past felt like a cruel joke of all the imperfections and twists. Two years of a wasted relationship with Harry, his late nights, secret calls, canceled dates. She'd ignored the signs. Trusted him. I loved him. And he'd betrayed her with the one person who knew exactly how to hurt her.
Her stomach twisted with the pain and betrayal.
The car slowed at a traffic light. Alejandro tapped the steering wheel rhythmically, his gaze fixed ahead.
Alejandro, without looking at her, asked. "You've been quiet. What's wrong?"
Scarlett didn't answer. She wasn't ready to speak to him.
He turned to her, his gaze sharp. "Scarlett." he called.
She had to force a small smile.
"Nothing. I'm okay."
He didn't press further. Instead, he pulled into the valet of a high-end restaurant. Which made Scarlett's brows furrowed.
her expression speaking louder than words.
"What are we doing here?"
Alejandro chuckled as he stepped out of the car, walked around, and opened the door for her like a perfect gentleman. Scarlett was stunned.
She couldn't help but ask, "Are we... supposed to be seen together?"
Alejandro just shrugged at her alarmed tone and replied, his voice strained, "You are my wife, Scarlett. We just got married. So do not dare get embarrassed about it. And yes. We will be seen more often...together, because you are now Scarlett Moritz. So start getting used to it."
Scarlett took a deep breath as her head screamed, What have I gotten into?
She wasn't prepared for any public attention, it never came to mind and it was clear Alejandro wasn't about to hide their marriage.
"Come down."
Still, she didn't move.
Alejandro sharply said, his eyes narrowed. "Unless you want me to carry you out."
That did it. She stepped down quickly, sensing the shift in his mood. He closed the door, took her hand, and led her inside.
The restaurant was elegant, intimate, and buzzing with quiet luxury. They were seated quickly. A waiter approached, and Alejandro ordered in fluent French. Scarlett didn't understand a word and she didn't bother asking.
Alejandro was on his phone when he spoke.
without looking away from his phone.
"Come here," he ordered.
Scarlett paused. unsure if he was talking to her. But when he raised his head and looked at her sharply, she gave a questioning look. Is he talking to me?
Alejandro raised his head, eyes locking with hers. "I said, come here."
She stood, unsure, and walked toward him. He reached out, tugging her gently by the waist until she sat on his lap. Her breath hitched.
Luckily they were at a hidden corner of the restaurant. But if anyone could pass by they could see them...
Alejandro leaned in, his voice low against her ear.
"You've been quiet, little wife. Where's the daring woman from yesterday?"
He asked, his lips brushed her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. She squirmed, resisting the pull...but her body betrayed her, responding to the heat of his touch.
Just as the moment threatened to tip into something more intimate. The waiter returned with their food.
Scarlett tried to stand, but Alejandro's grip tightened, keeping her close. His hand lingered at her waist, firm but not forceful. The waiter, sensing the tension, quickly served the dishes and exited.
Scarlett exhaled, her cheeks flushed and her heart pounding.
This is dangerous, she thought. Trying again to leave his arms.
But Alejandro didn't let go.
His voice dropped, low and deliberate. "are you trying, not to be intimate with me?"
Scarlett's breath hitched. There was something in his tone. commanding, and laced with danger.
She didn't want to be bullied by him in this so-called marriage, so she tried making herself clear about her earlier condition. I told you my conditions earlier, that there would be no form of intimacy and I'll only play the role of your wife in public and...
Alejandro cuts her words shut. "I agreed to this marriage for my reasons, and fucking you was among them and I clearly told you, you would accept your duties as my wife publicly and privately or didn't you read the document," he continued, his fingers tracing slow circles on the skin of her thigh. "Don't make the mistake of resisting my touch."
Scarlett's heart pounded. She tried to pull away again, but he held her tighter, his teeth nibbling at her neck.
"Not now, this is embarrassing" Scarlett muttered under her breath. And Alejandro heard her.
"Scarlett" he said in a sharp tone, giving her a silent warning.
Scarlett was still perched on Alejandro's lap, her body tense, her heart thudding from the heat of his whispered words and the possessive grip around her waist. The restaurant's low lighting wrapped around them, until a voice sliced through the quiet space of the restaurant.
"Alejandro..."
The tone was shrill with excitement, but the sweetness was clearly fake. Scarlett stiffened, suddenly hyper-aware of the position she was in. Alejandro's body went rigid beneath her.
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7.5
Lena Hart never imagined marriage would be reduced to a signature on paper.
To protect her family and save what little she has left, she signs a contract with Ethan Blackwood, a powerful CEO whose world is ruled by control, status, and ambition. For him, the marriage is nothing more than a strategic move to secure his position at the top.
There are rules. There are boundaries. And there is no room for love.
Thrown into a cold, high society marriage she never wanted, Lena endures humiliation, loneliness, and a husband who sees her as part of a deal, not a woman. But as cracks begin to form in Ethan's carefully built walls, the contract that bound them starts to feel dangerously fragile.
Because some marriages may be signed in power...
but love has a way of rewriting the terms.
7.2
In the roaring flames of the abandoned warehouse, my skin blistered and peeled.
Through the crackling fire, my sister Elara's malicious voice echoed. She told me my husband, Damien, was dead, and it was all my fault.
For years, I had treated Damien like a monster. I fought him, threw tantrums, and desperately tried to escape our marriage, all because I blindly followed Elara's advice.
"Remember, the harder you fight, the more disgusted he'll get."
She texted me things like that, telling me to smash vases over his head and run away, claiming she was protecting me.
In reality, she was poisoning my mind, stealing my valedictorian spot at university, and plotting to crawl into my billionaire husband's bed.
My foolish rebellion cost me everything, ultimately leading to Damien's tragic death and my own fiery end.
As the massive explosion tore my consciousness to shreds, I finally understood who truly loved me and who the real monster was.
I died suffocating on my own agonizing regret, wishing I could tear Elara apart.
Then, a rush of freezing air punched into my lungs.
I opened my eyes to the crisp scent of cedar and mint. I was back seven years ago, on the very night our marriage was supposed to go to hell.
This time, looking at Damien's flawless, unscarred face, I didn't push him away.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and made a silent vow: I would make every single person who ever hurt him bleed.
9.5
I returned to New York with a broken suitcase and exactly three hundred and forty-two dollars in my bank account. My mother was dying in a public hospital, and the only treatment that could save her required a fifty-thousand-dollar deposit I didn't have.
While I was pleading with the billing department, I ran into my billionaire ex, Gannon Sharpe, and his cruel fiancée, Aleta. Without a second thought, Aleta slapped me so hard my lip split, kicking my belongings across the floor and calling me a gold-digging thief in front of the entire staff.
I looked at Gannon, the man I once loved more than my own life, hoping for a shred of mercy. Instead, he looked at me with pure revulsion and told me I belonged in the gutter. He believed the lies his grandfather told him—that I had abandoned him after his car crash and vanished with millions.
He had no idea I was the one who actually pulled him from that burning wreckage, or that I was currently skipping meals in a moldy motel just so our secret son could have formula. He called me "disgusting" and walked away, leaving me to rot.
I wanted to scream that I was the genius scientist who wrote his company’s core algorithms, and that the child he didn’t know existed was shivering with a fever only blocks away. But the ironclad NDA I signed to save my family kept me silent, even as Gannon looked at me like I was something he’d stepped in.
Desperate for health insurance to save my mother and son, I took a bottom-tier data entry job in the basement of Gannon’s own tower, intending to stay invisible. But when a billion-dollar error threatened to bankrupt his empire, I couldn't stop myself from hacking the system to fix the code.
Now, the man who hates me is standing in my cubicle, demanding to know how a "dropout" knows his most guarded secrets. Gannon is finally digging into my past, and he’s about to find out exactly what—and who—I’ve been hiding for the last four years.
7.4
For five years, Jodi was the perfect, compliant secret lover to billionaire CEO Armand Taylor.
Then, she woke up to a cold email and a seven-figure wire transfer. Armand was marrying European royalty. The money was a severance package to quietly warehouse her out of sight.
Refusing to be his dirty secret, Jodi invoked her contract's termination clause to leave for good. But Armand wouldn't let her go easily. He forced her to personally train her vicious new replacement, Selah.
Selah immediately tampered with a crucial financial file, framing Jodi for sabotaging Taylor Corp's multi-billion-dollar tech acquisition.
Without a second thought, Armand took the new girl's side. He cornered Jodi in the boardroom, his eyes dead and cold.
"You have three days to fix this. If you fail, I will personally see to it that you go to prison for corporate fraud."
He froze her bank accounts and stripped away her dignity, ready to destroy her life over a blatant lie.
He thought she was just a weak, discarded toy who would break under his threats.
What Armand didn't know was the terrifying secret Jodi had just discovered hidden at the bottom of her bathroom trash can.
Three positive pregnancy tests.
If the ruthless billionaire found out she was carrying his heir, he would never let her escape.
Wiping her tears, Jodi slipped into a severe black silk gown and crashed an exclusive Hamptons gala to intercept the tech CEO herself.
This time, she wasn't playing the obedient lover. She was going to clear her name and burn Armand's empire to the ground.
8.7
The world was a symphony of agony, played on the strings of my own body. I was tied to a chair in a damp basement, the metallic tang of blood filling my mouth as my fingernails were ripped from their beds by a pair of rusty pliers.
My best friend, Corrine, stepped into the flickering light wearing my favorite Chanel suit and the engagement ring that was supposed to be mine. Beside her, my fiancé Aldo held the pliers, his voice smooth and cultured as he demanded I sign over my entire inheritance to them.
As I struggled, a news report flashed on an old TV in the corner: Hunter Gallagher, the man I had treated like dirt but who had always tried to protect me, was dead in a horrific car explosion. Corrine laughed, whispering in my ear that they had lured him to his death using a fake kidnapping tip. He died trying to save me from a trap set by the people I trusted most.
They didn't just want my money; they wanted to erase me. They plunged a needle full of heroin into my neck, watching with cold, mocking eyes as my heart hammered against my ribs and finally seized into nothingness.
I died in that basement, a blind, spoiled girl who had let her true protector be murdered. As the darkness closed in, my soul burned with a single, silent vow: If I ever get another life, I will drag you both to hell with me.
Suddenly, I gasped for air, my lungs fighting against a weight that wasn't there. I wasn't in the basement; I was in my own bed, my fingernails intact and my skin unbroken. I checked my phone, and my heart stopped—it was May 20th, exactly one year before my death. Hunter was still alive, and this time, I wasn't the prey.
9.4
I was the eldest daughter of the powerful Kirk family, sent away to a Swiss sanatorium to recover from my supposed mental illness.
But my stepmother, Johnie, never intended for me to get better. She sent her personal cleaners to drag me onto a plane back to Washington D.C.
In my past life, I didn't know they were assassins. I was forcefully injected with heavy sedatives and locked in a secret torture chamber inside our luxury estate.
My stepmother and cousin skimmed my inheritance while watching me suffer.
They framed me as a crazy addict, and my own father, a sitting Senator, turned a blind eye to protect his political career.
"Her political value is gone, just get rid of her quietly."
That was the last thing I heard my father say before I was brutally slaughtered by my own family.
Until my last breath, I couldn't understand why they hated me so much.
Why did my father let them force those pills down my throat?
Why was my life worth less than my stepmother's public image?
Opening my eyes again, the freezing sensation of lake water filling my lungs vanished.
I was back in the VIP room of the St. Moritz Sanatorium in 2023.
It was the exact morning before the cleaners walked through my door with uncapped syringes.
This time, I wouldn't just survive. I was going to cut the throat of the Kirk family.