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 6
Caden's POV
"Say that one more time.
I didn't quite hear you the first time." I said, uncrossing my arms.
Casa shook her head as if disappointed. "This isn't a joke, Caden. You will be getting married if your life is threatened again."
"Like fuck I will!" I scoffed. "You expect me to arrive when my life is in danger? What is marriage now? Some sort of life insurance?"
Gabriel made an attempt to speak but I cut him off.
"Not another word from you. The last thing I want to hear is your shitty American accent." I spun around and picked at the hairs at the back of my neck with my good hand.
"Caden, this is what your grandfather wanted." Jonathan began softly.
"What about what I want?" I tilted my head to meet his gaze. "Did any of you stop to ask me that?"
"It's not in our power to do that, Caden," Jonathan sighed. "Your grandfather clearly stated in the second clause that if a threat to your life is deemed persistent beyond 30 days, then you'll have to get married to someone vetted and approved by the board."
"Why?" I asked, still picking at the hairs till they stung like a bitch.
"Your grandpa was obsessed with legacy and stability. And a single, reckless CEO with a death wish isn't exactly stable in the eyes of investors." Gabriel added.
"Investors are what you're worried about when my life is in danger? I should fire you!" I hissed. "And marriage? Who, pray tell, is the saviour I'll be getting married to."
The trio exchanged quiet looks, giving me the answer I needed to know.
I slapped my forehead."Jesus Christ."
"Having a bodyguard follow you everywhere 24/7 will only spark suspicion among the people so to avoid that, your grandfather decided we have a bodyguard pose as your partner, thereby reducing the risk of your life falling in danger." Casa explained like this was one of those shitty lectures she attends in Cambridge.
I sum everything they've told me and sighed. "So you're telling me if I don't marry my bodyguard, I lose my entire company?"
The trio exchanged a resigned look before looking at me.
"Yes." They chorused.
That word did enough damage.
I stuffed both my hands in my pockets and turned to the door.
"Caden, where are you going?" Gabriel called behind me.
I clutched the doorknob and twisted it open. "To my room to get some sleep.
You know, to sleep on the bomb you three just dropped on my lap."
"You know this marriage will still hold without your consent." Casa added.
"Like hell it would." I walked out of the room, not forgetting to slam the door on my way out.
I didn't even bother to return to the kitchen. Those three had successfully ruined my appetite like they do every time.
"Dinner is ready, sir." Joakim said the moment I stepped into the living room.
I dismissed him with a light wave. "I'm not hungry. Thank you."
"You sure?" He arched his brow.
"Are you deaf?! I said I'm not hungry!" I snapped.
Shit.
I palmed my forehead and sighed. "Look, I lost my cool and I'm sorry but please, I'm not hungry. You can share dinner with the rest of the team. Goodnight."
With that, I paddled to the direction of my room. A good night's sleep would fix this nightmare. I'm too young to be depressed.
"Depressed huh? That's a common word teenagers use nowadays." Those words flashed through my head and I stopped dead in my tracks.
It was HIM. Again. Why does he keep running through my mind after all these years? What gave him the right to just punish me with the memory of his eyes and his scent?
Fuck. I think I'm obsessed.
Another sigh escaped me and I took a step forward but I bumped into a wall. Since when were walls built with chiseled muscles and 6 packs?
"If you want to feel my abs, you could just ask nicely." A familiar gravy voice caressed my skin.
I looked up and met full pink lips, pointed nose till they locked on dark-gray eyes.
Asher was sporting a black T-shirt that clung to his upper body like a second skin. The man was ripped in all the good places. He was the kind of man God had spent time creating. Too bad, the man in question was an infuriating asshole.
"I'd rather bleach my eyes than touch you." I pulled away from him.
"You sure? Because you looked like you wanted to." He flashed me a grin and I died. I cannot be attracted to this man. It's Mission : Impossible.
"Go fuck yourself, Asher." I tried to sidestep him but he grabbed my elbow. "Let go."
"One of these days, I'll teach that foul mouth of yours a lesson." He growled.
Okay. What did I find that hot? And why in Queen Elizabeth's name was I looking forward to the lesson he'll teach me. My mouth, I mean.
Get your head back in the game, Caden.
I shoved his arm away but he was quick to grab me. This time he pulled me closer to himself. No distance, no space. Just the two of us, chest pressed against each other, breaths nearly one.
"Don't make my job difficult for me, little prince." Asher hissed.
"If you don't want me to make your life a living hell, I suggest you get out of my fucking way." I bit out.
"Watch what you say to me." Asher's grip on my elbow tightened.
I don't wince. I won't give him the liberty of seeing me fumble. So, I lift my chin and smile. "Get the fuck out of my way, please."
He murmured a rain of unintelligent curses before he dragged me away.
"Where the hell are we going?" I asked, trying my best to keep up with his large footsteps.
"Dinner." He growled again.
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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."