The Billionaire's Unwritten Wife
My name is Eleanor Whitmore, and I was sent to destroy him.
Sebastian Calloway: cold, brilliant, untouchable.
Britain's most powerful tech billionaire.
A man whose fiancée died in a "perfectly clean" car accident... weeks before seventy-three million dollars vanished from his company.
My job was simple: expose him.
Instead, he offered me his last name.
A contract marriage.
One year.
No love. No trust. No turning back.
He says he's being framed.
He says his fiancée was murdered.
He says I'm in danger.
I don't believe powerful men.
But when someone tries to silence me, I realize the truth is darker than I imagined.
Now I'm living in his penthouse. Wearing his ring. Sleeping in his bed.
Pretending to be his wife.
The world thinks I belong to him.
The terrifying part?
I'm starting to want to.
And if I fall for the man I was supposed to destroy...
It won't just ruin my career.
It might get us both killed.
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Chapter 3
The announcement broke at 9:02 a.m.
At 9:03, the internet exploded.
At 9:05, Eleanor Whitmore realized there was no turning back.
She stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows in Sebastian Calloway's Manhattan headquarters, watching the city pulse below while her phone vibrated relentlessly in her hand.
Billionaire Tech Mogul Sebastian Calloway Announces Surprise Engagement. Investigative Journalist Eleanor Whitmore Identified as Fiancée. Power Move or Love Story?
The headlines multiplied by the second.
Behind her, Sebastian remained calm. Too calm.
He sat at the conference table reviewing a digital tablet as if they had just announced a quarterly earnings report instead of a life-altering deception.
"You're trending in twelve countries," he said mildly.
Ellie turned slowly. "My editor has called fourteen times."
"You should answer."
"And say what?"
"That you fell hopelessly in love with a morally questionable billionaire."
Her eyes narrowed. "Careful."
A faint smirk touched his mouth. There it was again, that unsettling shift when the cold executive mask slipped just slightly.
The press conference would begin in twenty minutes. Twenty minutes until the world dissected their expressions, body language, and history.
"You look pale," Sebastian observed.
"I'm about to lie to the entire country."
"You're about to protect yourself."
She studied him. "You really think this protects me?"
"I think it makes you harder to eliminate quietly." The way he said it, clinical, not dramatic, made her stomach twist.
Security had tripled overnight.
Armed guards now stood discreetly near every entrance of the building. War.
He had meant it.
The doors to the conference room opened.
A tall man stepped inside without waiting to be announced. Ellie recognized him instantly.
Damien Rhodes. American tech billionaire. Investor. Publicly charming. Privately ruthless. And one of Calloway Industries' largest minority shareholders.
He looked like the kind of man who enjoyed destroying things slowly.
"Well," Damien drawled, clapping slowly. "I wake up to find my favorite British export is getting married."
Sebastian didn't stand. "Good morning, Damien."
Damien's gaze shifted to Ellie, assessing. "And you must be the journalist."
"Eleanor Whitmore," she replied coolly. He extended his hand.
"Damien Rhodes." She shook it.
His grip lingered a second too long. "Congratulations," he said, though his eyes never left Sebastian's face. "This is... unexpected."
"Life often is," Sebastian replied smoothly.
Damien's jaw tightened subtly.
"This board vote," Damien continued lightly, "is about leadership stability. Marriage doesn't automatically fix investor concern."
"No," Sebastian agreed calmly. "But it reframes it."
A flicker of tension sparked between them. Ellie felt it like static.
These two men were not casual rivals. They were circling each other.
Damien's gaze returned to her. "You should be careful," he said pleasantly. "Power struggles aren't romantic." Before she could respond, Sebastian stood. A single movement. Controlled. But unmistakably territorial.
"That will be all, Damien."
Damien's smile sharpened. "For now." He left without another word.
Ellie exhaled slowly.
"He doesn't like this."
"He doesn't like losing," Sebastian corrected.
"You think he's involved?"
"In Lydia's death?" Sebastian's expression hardened. "I think Damien benefits from my absence."
"And from your fiancée's death?" A pause. "Yes."
The bluntness unsettled her.
"Then why let him walk around freely?"
"Because I don't have proof."
"And that's where I come in." His eyes met hers. "Yes."
The press conference timer hit zero.
The flash of cameras felt like gunfire.
Sebastian's hand rested lightly at the small of her back as they stepped onto the stage.
Not possessive. Not intimate. But steady. Grounding.
Ellie hated how aware she was of it.
The questions came immediately.
"Mr. Calloway, when did this relationship begin?"
"Ms. Whitmore, were you investigating Calloway Industries before this engagement?"
"Is this a strategic move ahead of the board vote?"
Sebastian's voice remained even.
"We value our privacy. However, our relationship developed over time, and we are both committed to transparency moving forward."
Lie. Half-truth. Strategic ambiguity.
Ellie forced herself to meet the cameras confidently.
"I have always believed in accountability," she said clearly. "That includes holding myself to the same standard."
Another half-truth.
The room buzzed.
Then one reporter asked the question she knew was coming.
"What would Lydia Calloway think of this?" The air shifted.
Sebastian's hand tightened fractionally against her back. His face did not change.
"Lydia valued honesty," he said calmly. "She would want the truth." The way he said it steady but layered with something raw sent a ripple through the room. Even Ellie felt it.
The conference ended without disaster. But the war had officially begun.
That night, exhaustion hit like a physical weight.
The estate felt quieter than usual. Too quiet.
Ellie changed into silk sleepwear she didn't remember buying, presumably selected by someone in Sebastian's household staff, and paced her room.
Her phone buzzed again. Unknown number.
She answered cautiously.
A message this time. You should have stayed out of it.
Her throat tightened.
A second message followed. Wives are replaceable.
Cold fear slid down her spine.
There was a soft knock at her door. She hesitated before opening it. Sebastian stood there, jacket removed, sleeves rolled up, and hair slightly disheveled. He looked less like a billionaire.
More like a man who hadn't slept in years.
"You received it," he said quietly.
She nodded.
"Security is tracing it."
"And if they can't?"
"They will." He stepped inside.
The air between them felt different tonight. Less formal. More fragile.
"I didn't realize how exposed this would feel," she admitted.
He closed the door gently. "It doesn't get easier."
A faint shadow of a smile touched his mouth.
"You can leave," he said suddenly.
She frowned. "What?"
"This arrangement," he clarified. "You can walk away. I will handle the consequences."
Her chest tightened. "And what happens to you?"
"That is not your responsibility."
The dismissal stung more than it should have.
"I agreed to this," she said firmly. "I don't run when things get uncomfortable."
His gaze softened just slightly.
"It won't just be uncomfortable."
For a moment, neither spoke. The silence felt intimate. Dangerous.
"You don't trust easily," she said quietly.
"No."
"Because of Lydia."
A long pause. "Yes."
His voice was stripped of all polish now.
"She told me she was being followed," he continued. "I dismissed it as anxiety."
Ellie's heart clenched.
"She died two weeks later." The guilt in his eyes was unbearable.
"You couldn't have known," she said gently.
"I should have." The words carried years of self-punishment.
Without thinking, she stepped closer. Close enough to see the faint tremor in his jaw.
"You're not invincible," she whispered.
"I never believed I was."
For a heartbeat, the world narrowed to the space between them. His gaze dropped briefly to her lips. Then back to her eyes. Slow. Deliberate.
Heat coiled low in her stomach, unwanted, undeniable.
"This is exactly what we said we wouldn't do," she murmured.
"Yes." Neither moved away.
The tension stretched thin. Then...
A sharp crack shattered the window behind them.
Glass exploded inward. Sebastian moved instantly.
He grabbed her, pulling her to the floor as a second shot pierced the wall where she had been standing seconds earlier.
Gunfire.
Her ears rang. Security alarms blared.
Sebastian's body shielded hers completely. Solid. Protective. Dangerous.
"Stay down," he ordered, voice lethal. More shouting outside. Footsteps. Chaos.
The shooting stopped as quickly as it began.
Sebastian remained over her for several seconds longer than necessary.
Their faces inches apart. Her breath came fast.
His hand was braced beside her head. His chest rose and fell against hers.
"You're bleeding," she whispered.
A thin line of red trailed down his temple where glass had cut him.
"It's nothing."
But his eyes, they were no longer controlled. They were furious.
Whoever pulled that trigger hadn't just threatened his empire. They had targeted her.
Slowly, carefully, he helped her sit up.
"You see now," he said quietly, "this is not a game."
Her heart was still racing. But fear was not the only thing she felt. She reached up before she could stop herself. Her fingers brushed the blood at his temple. The touch was soft. Intimate. Unplanned. He froze.
For a second, the world went silent again.
"You almost died," she whispered.
"So did you." Their foreheads nearly touched. The line between fake and real blurred.
"I'm not leaving," she said firmly.
His jaw tightened. "You may regret that."
"Probably."
A breath passed between them. Heavy. Charged.
"Welcome to marriage," she murmured.
And for the first time since she met him, Sebastian Calloway laughed.
Not cold. Not controlled. Real.
Outside, sirens wailed.
Inside, something far more dangerous had just begun. Not the war.
The attachment.
And neither of them was prepared for what that would cost.
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9.7
Luna Elena Frost was never chosen, only assigned.
Bound to Alpha Alaric Ashbourne through a cold contractual marriage, she endures three years as a Luna in name only. He never comes home, never defends her, and never looks at her, while his heart belongs to another woman.
At his grandmother's funeral, Alaric publicly dissolves their marriage, humiliating Elena before the entire pack. In that moment, she finally understands the truth. She was never wanted.
But the Moon has not abandoned her.
A forgotten night resurfaces. Her long-silent wolf begins to awaken. And secrets buried within her bloodline start to surface, drawing danger from every direction.
Cast out by the pack that once used her, Elena must flee, survive, and uncover her true power.
Only then does the Alpha realize his mistake.
By the time he turns back in regret, the Luna he rejected may already be gone forever.
7.1
I sat alone at my long marble dining table, staring at a plate of cold truffle risotto. My husband, Jere, was late again, claiming he was stuck in a "war zone" of a board meeting for a multi-billion dollar merger.
A single Instagram notification shattered the silence. It was a photo of a candlelit birthday dinner, featuring a man's hand resting on a white tablecloth. I recognized the slight veins, the jagged scar on the thumb, and the navy-faced Patek Philippe watch I had spent six months tracking down as a wedding gift. Jere wasn't in a boardroom; he was celebrating his ex-girlfriend Irina's birthday while texting me to "don't wait up."
The next morning, I followed him to a VIP hospital wing. I watched through a cracked door as my husband cuddled a five-year-old boy and whispered tender promises to Irina. When he came home, he tried to buy my silence with a rare pink diamond bracelet, but I found the receipt: he had bought two identical ones. He had branded his wife and his mistress with matching jewelry, using hidden trackers to keep us both on a leash. When I confronted him, he didn't flinch. He coldly reminded me that he owned my father's massive debts and could send him to prison for insolvency fraud with one phone call.
"Stop with the attitude, Deliah," he said.
I felt like a ghost haunting my own life, trapped in a gilded cage by the man who paid for my mother's heart surgery while keeping a secret family across town. The humiliation peaked at our rescheduled anniversary dinner when Jere received a text, threw a stack of hundreds at me like I was a stranger, and abandoned me in a crowded restaurant to rush back to her.
"Pay the bill," he commanded before walking out.
Standing in the wreckage of a shattered crystal vase back at the penthouse, I realized my silence was the only thing keeping his empire standing. I pulled the crumpled divorce papers from my purse and signed my name with a steady hand. I wasn't just walking away; I was calling his sister to help me burn his perfect world to the ground.
9.2
Jacqueline Blackburn, a desperate Ivy League tutor, walked into the sleazy Veridian VIP club just to save her job.
But her billionaire client, the ruthless Christian Montgomery, mistook her for a cheap escort, blowing cigar smoke in her face and treating her like trash.
When she furiously turned to leave, a drunk former client attacked her in the hallway, tearing her white dress open and pinning her by the throat.
She fought back, stabbing the man's hand with a pen, only for Christian to emerge from the shadows and brutally crush the attacker's bleeding hand under his heel.
Instead of letting her go, Christian draped his heavy suit jacket over her exposed skin, trapped her in his dark suite, and forced her to sign a suffocating contract.
"You have exactly ninety days, or I will personally ensure you cease to exist in my city."
She thought she could just keep her head down, teach his nephew, and survive.
But she didn't understand why this terrifying underground tyrant was suddenly so fixated on her.
Why did he use his immense power to isolate her, publicly claim her at a billionaire gala, and track her every move?
When she received a chilling midnight text demanding she pack her bags and move into his sprawling estate by 8:00 AM, the terrifying reality set in.
She hadn't escaped the wolf. She had just walked directly into his cage.
7.7
Eva Brooks, a 25-year-old woman, was set up by her best friend. Her fiancé broke up with her and demanded compensation for allegedly cheating on him.
Eva had a one-night stand with the richest CEO in Dominic City, Ethan Owen. He was arrogant and offered her a job as his secretary.
As his secretary, Ethan couldn't shake his fondness for Eva. He became obsessed with her, worrying that she was cheating on him.
He broke up with his fiancée to become engaged to Eva, but will his fiancée let him go? Will Eva accept a relationship with her boss?
7.4
"Will you be a good girl for Daddy?" His husky voice dripped with lust.
"Yes, please fuck me hard, Daddy." I answered, breathlessly.
His hands were all over my body as he pressed into me roughly and I could feel my pussy swelling in response to his hardness.
"Good," he whispered against my ear, teeth nipping at my skin. "Because you'll be a damn good whore."He bit down again, pulling away from me long enough to grab one of my wrists and pin it above my head, then began fucking me hard, his hips rolling violently and slamming into mine in time with his movements.
•• •• ••
Camille Caldwell, tasked by her wealthy father to learn the ropes of business under the watchful eyes of a dear and trusted mentor, Gavriel found herself juggling between being a dutiful secretary and a seductive temptress at night.
At first, all she wanted from him was for him to give a good report to her father of her behavior, but as she got closer to him, she couldn't resist the magnetic attraction that drew her to him.
When Billionaire Gavriel Donovan agreed to take the only daughter of his friend under his wing as his secretary, he merely counted it as doing a favor for an old friend, but Camille will have him doing the unthinkable, and he'll have her pinned beneath him, screaming for more pleasure.
Can their forbidden desires survive in a world where their romance is regarded as abominable?
Was Gavriel willing to put his friendship and reputation on the line for a girl he was old enough to father?
*****
This book unapologetically contains very dark, raw, and mature contents. Do not open unless you'd love to be stuck in a sex-filled, lusty, and romantic world.
7.4
Standing on the edge of a limestone quarry in the pouring rain, I thought we were just having another family argument.
Then my mother, Ardell, screamed that I’d let the life insurance lapse, and my brother, Hakeem, stepped out of the shadows with a cold, calculating look in his eyes.
I told them I knew the truth—that Hakeem had cut the brake lines on my father’s car—but they didn't flinch. Instead, Hakeem shoved me hard, sending me tumbling into the abyss.
I hit a jagged ledge thirty feet down, the sound of my spine snapping like a dry branch echoing through the rain. As I lay paralyzed and broken, my mother watched from above, asking if I was dead yet, before Hakeem whistled for the starving wild dogs that lived in the quarry floor.
"Nature will clean up the mess,"
Hakeem said, walking away while the first set of teeth sank into my throat.
The agony was a tidal wave, but the rage was hotter, a nuclear hatred for the family that stole my future and the daughter I’d never see grow up. I died in that dirt, consumed by fire and teeth, wondering how a mother could choose a car payment over her own child's life.
But then, I gasped for air, sitting bolt upright in my old trailer bedroom. I looked at the calendar: May 12, 2014.
I was seventeen again, but I wasn't the same girl. Inside this malnourished body was the mind of a world-class trauma surgeon and the elite hacker known as 'Phantom.'
This time, I wasn't going to the quarry; I was going for their throats.