THE BODYGUARD WHO TAMED THE TRILLIONAIRE CEO
Caden Booker, the arrogant heir to the Booker Legacy group has everything-wealth, power and everything that comes with it. Things take a turn when he survives a car bombing that was meant to kill him, sparking the need for a bodyguard, his bodyguard. Ruthless, secretive, and finally close enough to make Caden pay, Asher takes the job not to protect him, but to end him.
As time unravels everything he thought he knew, Asher must decide between following through with the revenge he has planned all his life or to risk it all for the man he has learned to love.
A tale of betrayal, power and abominable romance, born out of revenge and sealed in love.
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Chapter 3
Asher's Pov
I've swam through the deadliest rivers in the country, taken a shot in the chest, and trudged through enemy territory with a broken leg, and I survived. But nothing had prepared me for this new hell.
"You'll be protecting the Young Master." The old man in front of me said in a posh American accent.
Young Master? Seriously? Who even talks like that?
"I trust you're good... no, excellent at your job, yes?"
He asked, twisting the ring on his finger.
He was nervous. Good.
I leaned forward and smiled. "If I wasn't good at what I do, we both wouldn't be here."
Gabriel chuckled softly. "Why, yes."
"Cut to the chase, Foster." I said, reaching for my cigarette.
"Sorry?"
"Why does a billionaire want his grandson protected by a man like me?" I grinned. "You know my reputation very well. I was blacklisted from the force and I have a rep for violence and not following orders. Why on earth did you not choose a proper bodyguard?"
"Because it's you," Gabriel's eyes hardened. "You have a terrible reputation but not a terrible record. Unlike the others, your clients have never lost their lives. Not a single one. I think we made the best decision hiring you."
My grin widened. He looks like a scared little man but he's a fighter on the inside.
I tossed my cigarette butt in his glass of water and rose to my feet.
"You'll be meeting the Young Master today at noon in the mansion. Don't be late." He called behind me.
I replied with a lazy drawl. "Aye, aye, captain."
I arrived at the Booker's family mansion in upstate New York an hour later. The meeting was supposed to be held at noon but I don't give a shit about punctuality.
The mansion came into sight and I maneuvered my SUV throughout the gate as soon as the security cleared me.
The place looked like it cost tons of money : a stone water fountain, a giant polished building, and the whole shebang. I've seen a lot of places but this one impressed me especially the little paintings in the cupid statues littering the entrance. Whoever painted those was good.
"Mister Donovan?" An old man in a tail coat, obviously, the butler, said as soon as I got out of the car.
"The one and only." I tipped my invisible hat.
"This way, please." He said, leading me into the building.
I followed the butler past red carpeted hallways and paintings of European aristocrats until we got to our destination.
I paused. Was that classical music?
"Young Master Caden is inside," he said, tapping on the door.
There was no response.
I kicked the door down with my boot, earning a glare from the butler, but who cares? They have enough money to fix it.
I walked into the room, greeted by the smell of paint and wine.
Something caught my eye and I grinned. There he is. That little fucker.
His white singlet clung to his lean muscles and his trouser was low around his waist, showing a little bit of skin when he moved. He was so lost in his painting that he didn't notice me standing behind him.
Just then, he froze and turned. For a moment, he just stared at me. As if realizing what he'd done, he killed the music and looked past me.
"Albert, who the fuck is this?" He asked.
Of course, the butler's name is Albert. Fucking predictable.
"This is the new bodyguard." Albert replied softly.
Caden looked back at me, his babyblue eyes glaring at me like I was some dug underneath his shoe.
"You were supposed to be here an hour ago." He hissed and returned to his painting.
The flowery patterns looked similar to the ones I saw on the cupid statues. Don't tell me he's the one that paints them. This asshole has a talent?
"Traffic." I shrugged. That was a goddamn lie.
"Well, state your name and schedule and get the fuck out of my room." Caden said, resuming his painting.
That was rude.
"Are you sure you want to talk to me that way?" I asked in a deep, gravy voice. This boy better not push me.
Caden dropped the brush and turned to face me. "Just get this over with and talk."
I noticed the bandage wrapped around his right arm. An arm he should've lost.
"The name's Asher Donovan." I had just begun when the little fucker turned towards his painting, ignoring my existence.
"Would you look at me when I talk to you?!" I barked.
Shit. I never lose my temper. False. I never lose my temper that easily.
"I'm all ears, American." Caden snorts.
"It's Asher, you British snob." I hissed.
Now, he looked at me. Gotcha.
"Is that how you talk to your employer?" He rose to his feet.
I grinned. "My employer is your grandfather..."
"...who is dead so I'm in charge now," he interrupted me with a glare. "You speak to me with respect, American."
"For the love of pizza, it's Asher." I hissed.
"I'll make sure not to remember that." He grabbed a white towel and brushed past me. "Albert, send the American on his way. We're done here."
Like hell we are. I grabbed his arm and pinned him against the wall.
He seemed so small, so delicate, so easy to break. When he struggled against my larger form, I brought my knee underneath his crotch.
"Young Master!" Albert cried out.
I ignored the ass-kisser and focused on the little shit in front of me. "I know 30 deadly moves that can kill you in an instant."
I'm not kidding.
"So why don't you kill me?" He challenged.
"Because that'll be too easy." I grinned.
"Let go of me, you brute." He slammed his head against mine. That didn't hurt at all.
"Let go!" He hissed again and I wanted to hear the sound of his hot voice.
Wait a minute. Why do I find his accent hot? What is wrong with me today?
I pulled away from him as if I'd been burnt and stared at him. With his big blue eyes and lush pink lips, perfect pale skin, and golden hair falling in curls around his heart-shaped face, Caden looked like a fairytale prince - young, rich, and regal, the opposite of me in every goddamn way.
Jesus. Why does that sound gay? I'm straight!
"If this is how you handle your clients then you're fired, Asher." Caden hissed.
His smooth tenor voice rolled over me like a velvety caress. There must've been something in that cigar I smoked earlier because what the fuck is wrong with me? And why am I getting hard just by hearing him say my name?
"Young Master, you can't..." Albert is interrupted again. This time, it's me.
"You have to move." I said. Caden blinked.
"I beg your finest pardon?"
"Your house." I gestured around the room. "It's a security nightmare."
"I'm not moving." Caden punctuated his words with a sharp hiss.
I glowered at him beneath my thick, dark brows. "If your killer knew you'd be at the launch, don't you think he or she would know where you live?"
Caden's eyes went round. "What?"
I turned to Albert. "He needs to be in a safe house. Lucky for you, I know the perfect place."
Albert hesitated for a moment before he gave me a curt nod and dashed out of the room, probably to snitch to Gabriel.
One hour and 20 minutes later, we were on our way to the safehouse.
"This safehouse better be safe." Caden mumbled as he scrolled on his phone.
I nearly grinned.
Little did he know that he was moving in with his killer.
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7.8
She woke up in a billionaire's arms in a penthouse with a view of the Seine. She was wearing a ring she didn't remember saying yes i do to
When Lana Cruz wakes up after a terrible accident, the only person there is Adrian Black, the powerful CEO who says she is his wife. His touch is familiar, and his voice is strong but all of my memories of him are gone.
They look like the perfect couple to everyone but this is the revenge Adrian has been waiting years for. Lana broke his heart once, and now he plans to make her fall in love with him again, only to break her heart when she is most vulnerable.
But Paris is a city full of life and danger. Rooftop parties under the sparkling Eiffel Tower, moonlit walks along the Seine, and sparkling galleries set the stage for love, lies, and secrets that could ruin both of them.
As they fall in love, the line between revenge and desire gets blurry. Lana and Adrian must choose between letting the past take over their lives or giving in to a love that is strong enough to heal even the worst wounds.
A storm of passion, betrayal, and redemption in the middle of modern Paris.
8.9
I lived as the "scarred ghost" of the Stephens penthouse, a wife kept in the shadows because my facial burns offended my billionaire husband's aesthetic. For years, I endured Kason's coldness and my family's abuse, a submissive puppet who believed she had nowhere else to go.
The end came with a blue folder tossed onto my silk sheets. Kason's mistress was back, and he wanted me out by sunset, offering a five-million-dollar "silence fee" to go hide my face in the countryside.
The betrayal cut deep when I discovered my father had already traded my divorce for a corporate bailout. My step-sister mocked my "trashy" appearance at a high-end boutique, while the sales staff treated me like a common thief. At home, my father threatened to cut off my mother's life-saving medicine unless I crawled back to Kason to beg for a better deal.
I was the girl who took the blame for a fire she didn't start, the wife who worshipped a man who never looked her in the eye, and the daughter used as a human bargaining chip. I was supposed to be broken, penniless, and desperate.
But the woman who stood up wasn't the weak Elease Finch anymore; she was Phoenix, a tactical predator with a $500 million secret. I signed the divorce papers without a single tear, walked past my stunned husband, and wiped the Finch family's bank accounts clean with a few taps on my phone.
"Your money is dirty," I told Kason with a cold smile. "I prefer clean hands."
The cage is open, the hunt has begun, and I'm starting with the people who thought a scar made me weak.
7.9
For five years, April Gamble loved Julian Travis with everything she had, trusting him completely.
But on a stormy night, he casually tossed a liquidation agreement at her feet, single-handedly destroying her grandfather's company.
He coldly admitted he only dated her to steal Vance Group's internal financial data.
"You were convenient," Julian said, swirling his whiskey without a shred of guilt.
Before April could even process the brutal betrayal, a breaking news alert lit up her phone.
She watched in absolute horror as her grandfather jumped from the ledge of the Vance Tower on live television.
Julian looked at her writhing, screaming form with utter boredom and simply ordered his bodyguard to throw her out.
Blinded by grief and tears, April sped into the torrential rain, only to be completely crushed by a hydroplaning transport truck at an intersection.
As the shattered glass tore into her skin and the metal crushed her ribs, she died with a hatred so pure it made her teeth ache.
Why did five years of devotion mean absolutely nothing to him? Why did her family have to die just to feed his ruthless greed?
When she opened her eyes again, the harsh hospital lights blinded her, but the familiar burn scar on her arm was gone.
She wasn't the betrayed financial analyst April Gamble anymore.
She had woken up in the body of Altagracia Blanchard, the most notorious, obscenely wealthy heiress in New York.
Julian had taken everything from her, but now, armed with a billionaire's empire, she was going to bury him.
7.5
I lay paralyzed in a luxury Swiss clinic, my body a heavy sack of meat I no longer controlled. The heart monitor’s rhythmic beep was the only thing louder than the silence, a mocking countdown to my inevitable end.
My fiancé, Jordan, walked in looking impeccable in the custom suit I had bought him for his birthday. He wasn't alone; my best friend, Chloe, followed him into the room, wearing the vintage Givenchy dress I had saved for our anniversary gala.
Jordan didn't look like a grieving man; he looked bored as he held up a blue folder confirming that my family's offshore trust had finally cleared. Chloe giggled, leaning over me to ask if I finally realized it was the engagement wine she had spiked seven days ago. Jordan brushed a cold hand over my forehead, calling me a "perfect little asset" before pulling Chloe into a hungry kiss right over my dying body. To ensure there was no turning back, he pulled out a silver lighter and set my living will on fire, watching the only document that could have saved me turn to ash.
I tried to scream, to curse them both to hell for stealing my life and my legacy, but all that came out was a wet, rattling wheeze. My own father, I would later learn, had known about the takeover and chose the profit over his own daughter's life.
As the darkness swallowed me whole, I made a silent, desperate promise: if there was anything after this, I would come back and destroy every single one of them.
I gasped, my body jerking upright as air rushed into my lungs like liquid fire.
I wasn't in Switzerland, and there was no poison in my veins. I was back in my Manhattan bedroom, staring at a phone that read June 12—the morning of the wedding, the day I was supposed to die, and the day I decided to burn their world to the ground.
9.4
Dorene survived a terrifying night with a bleeding, dangerous intruder in her hotel penthouse, only to receive a far more devastating blow the next morning.
A black and gold envelope arrived. It was an engagement invitation. Her boyfriend of seven years, Kadyn, was marrying her sweet, innocent best friend, Dolly.
Refusing to hide, Dorene crashed the gala in a blood-red gown. But Dolly was ready. Grabbing Dorene's wrists, Dolly purposely threw herself backward into a tower of champagne glasses, shrieking about her stomach and her unborn baby.
"If anything happens to Dolly or my child, I swear to God, I will destroy you!"
Kadyn roared, holding the weeping Dolly in the broken glass. He didn't ask a single question. He branded Dorene a jealous monster. To completely break her dignity, he publicly handed her over to the city's most notorious, sleazy playboy just to appease Dolly's fake tears.
"Give him a shot," Kadyn told her coldly.
Seven years of love were ground into the marble floor. She was framed, publicly humiliated, and discarded like trash by the two people she trusted most.
Dorene didn't shed a single tear. She gave them a smile of pure, freezing mockery and walked out of the gilded cage into the freezing Manhattan night. She didn't know that as she left, the lethal, blood-stained man from her penthouse was watching from the shadows, ready to help her burn their world to the ground.
8.5
After surviving twenty-one years in a brutal orphanage, I finally returned to my billionaire biological family with the silver pocket watch that proved my identity.
But my relatives didn't care about me; they only loved Corie, the fake daughter who had stolen my life after our mothers switched us during a hospital fire.
On my very first day home, the family faced total ruin over a thirty billion dollar debt.
The creditors demanded a Dunlap daughter marry their comatose, vegetative heir to settle the score.
Without a second thought, my grandmother and uncle pointed their fingers at me.
They claimed Corie was too delicate and precious to spend her life nursing a corpse with a heartbeat.
"You're used to hardship and deprivation," my grandmother sneered, demanding I fulfill my so-called family obligation to save them all.
I looked at these strangers who had ignored my existence for two decades, expecting me to sacrifice my future just so a thief could keep enjoying my stolen wealth.
They thought they were tossing an unwanted orphan into a living hell.
But when I saw the medical file of the comatose heir, a cold thrill ran through my veins.
It was Andres Gillespie.
The man who had taken my innocence during a mountain storm four years ago, and the secret father of my hidden twins.
I calmly set down my coffee cup and smiled at my arrogant family.
"I'll do it. I'll marry him."