
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?
Chapters
Share
Chapter 6
Scarlett turned her head toward the voice. A tall, elegant woman stood by their table, her smile dripping with seduction. Scarlett instinctively slid off Alejandro's lap and returned to her seat. He didn't stop her this time.
The woman's eyes followed Scarlett with a sharp, laser-like glare full of disgust. Scarlett met it with a blank stare, refusing to flinch. But deep inside, she felt small, expecially with the lady's radiating confidence, and how she carried herself, she was elegant, tall, and with a great body.
Scarlett wondered who this woman is to Alejandro, she couldn't help but compare herself to her.
"I've missed you, baby," the woman cooed, her voice flirtatious and loud enough to draw attention. "I tried calling, but it wouldn't go through. I've been looking for you since I got back to the state."
Alejandro took a slow sip of his wine, his expression unreadable as he showed no reaction to her claims. The silence stretched just long enough to make the woman shift awkwardly.
Then he spoke, voice cold and clipped.
"What are you doing here, Mrs Johnson?"
Scarlett's eyes flicked between them, her curiosity piqued. She leaned back slightly, watching the exchange like a live drama unfolding.
Mrs Johnson faltered, then recovered with a sultry smile. She laughed as if Alejandro had just said a joke, cleaning fake tears,
Mrs Johnson!, come on Alejandro you know it's Lucy. She posed suggestively, subtly tugging her dress higher to reveal more legs.
Seeing this, all the admiration Scarlett had for this Mrs Johnson, went down the drain. Like what the hell.
"You know," Lucy purred, "lets hang out. Talk about the things we've missed, spend time together..."
Alejandro sighed, clearly unimpressed.
"Lucy, you're married."
"I'm widowed," she snapped, her tone defensive. "And I want us to talk. About us. Maybe fix things."
Scarlett couldn't hold back anymore.
"Excuse me?" she said, voice sharp. "I'm right here. And you're making advances on my man? I can't believe there's a shameless bitch in here bold enough to do that."
Lucy scoffed, eyes narrowing.
"Mind your business, you little slut."
Scarlett's blood boiled.
"I'm no slut. You are. Now get your fucking fake ass out of here and leave my husband the hell alone."
Lucy's mouth dropped open, stunned.
"Excuse me..."
Alejandro smirked, his voice low but commanding.
"You heard my wife. Leave. Unless you want to be thrown out."
Lucy's face twisted in fury, but she knew better than to challenge him.
She made a silent promise to herself to get him back no matter what. With a huff, she turned on her heel and stormed out.
Scarlett muttered a curse under her breath, glaring at Alejandro.
He sat back down, smirking.
"I like that," he said. "You claiming me as your man, you're learning fast."
Scarlett couldn't help but kick him under the table. Annoyed.
He didn't flinch, her kick did little to nothing, but the amusement in his eyes deepened. He wanted to laugh, but didn't. She was clearly pissed, and God, she was beautiful. Her cheeks puffed with anger, her eyes blazing. He felt the urge to kiss her right then and there.
Scarlett couldn't believe he was smirking after what had just happened he didn't even do anything to stop the lady even when she insulted her.
His indifference really annoyed her, but one thing was clear he had secrets he wasn't letting out.
"Who was she?" she asked, her voice low and sharp.
Alejandro's expression changed instantly. The warmth vanished. His eyes turned cold and dangerous.
"You shouldn't care," he said.
His meaning was clear. Don't ask.
She looked into his eyes., dark, unreadable, and cold. There was no warmth there.
Scarlett clenched her jaw, furious. She turned her attention to her food, stabbing at it with her fork, refusing to look at him again.
Alejandro watched her in silence, the tension between them thick.
Alejandro's phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, his jaw tightening when he saw the caller ID, Estella Moritz. His mother. An image flashed in his eyes of her perfectly styled hair, her cold and calculating smile.
He answered with a clipped, "Yes?"
Her voice came sharp and scornful.
"Morning to you too, Alejandro. Why aren't you home? I clearly told you yesterday that Beatrice has her wedding dress fitting today. As her groom, weren't you supposed to be there? But no....you just had to disobey. Now my princess is in tears."
Alejandro rolled his eyes, the word princess making his skin crawl.
"For fuck's sake, princess," he muttered under his breath, then spoke louder, his voice flat. "Cancel the wedding. I'm not marrying her."
There was a beat of silence. Then Estella's voice exploded through the speaker.
"How dare you! God, where did I get this boy from? For heaven's sake, Alejandro, grow up and stop being childish!"
She gave a brief pause, then spoke again. "I need you to come home and apologize to Beatrice. Apologize about that stupid scandal going on about you and that gold digger, I've made myself clear you must marry Beatrice".
Her words were harsh, but he'd long since stopped being affected. Years of being raised in a house where love was conditional and comparison was currency had hardened him. Beatrice had always been the golden girl, polished and adored. Even when she wasn't a Moritz, and he had to leave with it for years, he couldn't give them the helping hands to control him all his life, in the name of a marriage alliance. He had lived as a disappointment and rebel. The one who refused to play along, he was fine fitting in that role.
He stared out of the restaurant window, it was either now or never he had to stop this nonsense they call a marriage union.
He replied, his voice low and final.
"I'll be home soon."
He ended the call without waiting for her reply.
Turning his head, he looked at Scarlett. She was hunched over her plate, stabbing at her food like it had personally offended her. Her brown curls framed her face in wild defiance, her green eyes hidden but burning beneath her lowered lashes.
Alejandro smirked. She was angry. If only she knew how beautiful she is while being angry, her green eyes would widen and her cheeks red. But at least she was his wife.
He cleared his throat, loud enough to be heard. Scarlett didn't look up. She was ignoring him deliberately. But he knew she'd heard every word of that call. Her silence was a statement.
Still, he spoke, his voice calm but commanding.
"There's an urgent issue I need to handle. My driver will pick you up. You'll go get your things and move in today."
Scarlett's fork froze mid-air. Her head lifted slowly, eyes locking with his. The disbelief in her gaze was sharp enough to see through her .
"what?...I'm not moving in with you," her voice was low and repulsive.
Alejandro leaned forward, his tone darkening.
"Oh, baby...you will get your things and move in with. End of discussion. Or I'll come to wherever you are and carry you home myself."
Keep Reading
The story is getting intense! Switch to App to
Unlock All Chapters
You may also like

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.