
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 7
Asher's POV
Despite my rambunctious lifestyle, I was a man of principle.
I never lost my cool unless when necessary and I certainly never lost control for any reason. Not for a fight or booze or even women. But right now, at this moment, I'd been driven so close to the edge that I feared one more step would tip me over to my doom. My own customized doom - Caden Booker.
My personal hell was this forced proximity, this natural prison I was growing accustomed to. It was torture watching him from afar and not be able to do anything to him. To ruin that perfect image was my perfect bliss. To watch him writhe beneath me and unravel like he did 5 years ago, was my personal prayer request to God, but God in his infinite cruelty, refused to answer that.
'I am not Gay. Stop thinking like that, Asher.' I screamed that mantra in my head as I led Caden to the dining room. If no one watched the little fucker, he'll starve himself for days. I've kept tabs on him for years to notice that disturbing habit.
I pull out a chair and shove him on it. "Sit down, shut up and eat."
"Don't talk to me that way, asshole." The blonde prince crossed his arms over his chest and glared at me.
God, I like it when he does that but as much as I do, I hate the fact that I love it.
Caden - 1 Asher - 0
"Did you poison this?" Caden said as he stared at the food.
I noticed that look on his face and leaned back in my chair. "Oh really? Your eyes and mouth are saying two different things."
"Got to hell." Caden hissed.
"You shouldn't curse." I glared at him.
"Go to hell, please." He smiled sweetly, mischief dancing in those baby-blue eyes.
"You can dig in. I know you're hungry." I smiled at his cute attempts to spite me.
He crossed his arms over his chest. "Thank you but I'd rather starve."
Well, not on my watch. I'm not saying because I don't want him to starve but because it'll only cause suspicions if he lost weight.
Convincing him would turn into a battle of words and I had no time for that, especially when he's upset from the bombshell Gabriel and the others dropped earlier. So, I picked up my spoon and started eating. If Caden was truly hungry, he would've left the table a while ago. Instead, he chose to stay.
A few minutes into dinner, he picked up a spoon and joined me.
I didn't say a word to him. If I did, I'd annoy him and he'd probably go on a hunger strike for a month.
He lifted a bowl of chilli. I forgot to tell him it was still hot. His injured finger touched the bowl and he winced, dropping it.
"Son of a bitch!" He cursed in that posh accent I liked, blowing air to his index finger.
"Fuck." I reached for him. "You should've been careful."
"It's just a little sting. Don't grow soft on me now." Caden scoffed.
"More like growing annoyed. Didn't you see the steam coming out of the bowl?" I ripped the band-aid off his finger and tossed it aside.
"Look, I don't need your help. I'm fine!" Caden tried to take back his finger and I spanked him.
He froze, colour rising to his pale skin. "W - what did you just do to me?"
I didn't answer. Didn't need to because we both knew what I just did.
"Did you just spank me?" Caden scoffed.
"Yes and I'll do that again if you don't behave." I applied pressure to the finger and with my free hand whipped out an ointment from my pocket.
"You carry that around?" Caden furrowed his brows.
"For a walking disaster like you? Yes." I unscrewed the cap and applied a little portion on the finger.
"I hate you." Caden bit out.
"Likewise." I let go of his fingers and eyes locked.
For a moment, I drank him in. Shining blonde hair my fingers itched to run through, lips I'd ached to taste, and a body made for me to ruin. I drank Caden in, in all his twisted glory and I was still thirsty.
"Stop looking at me like that." Caden broke the silent spell that'd trapped us.
The air was super charged with tension or whatever the hell I felt a few seconds ago and I wondered if he felt it too.
"Like what?" I quipped, drawing closer. I needed to see him. All of him.
"Like you want to ruin me." He said softly.
Jesus fucking Christ.
I'll burst into flames if I don't touch him.
One more step and it'll all be over.
"Asher, come on, you've gotta check this out!"
Frisbee walked into the dining room. Frisbee was my best hacker and one of the guys I owe my life to, but at that moment, I was this close to killing him.
"Oh. Am I interrupting?" He slowed in his tracks.
"No." I brushed past Caden and followed Frisbee.
We arrived at the control room downstairs.
Computers, lots of them lined the walls. They were Frisbee's favourite type of thing. As guns were my poison, computers were his. It was just him in the control room. The others were guarding the exterior of the estate.
He grabbed his swivel chair and typed away at the keyboard. The windows interface appeared on the computer screen and he clicked on an untitled file.
"I found what you were looking for," he began. "But you're not gonna like it."
Like the police and practically half of the FBI, I was also investigating Caden's assassination. My job is to kill Caden but someone nearly deprived me of that. And I told Frisbee to find the fucker and he delivered. He never ceased to impress me. What I didn't like was the part of not liking what I would see.
"Open it." I ordered.
Frisbee opened the file. After spending a few seconds encrypting a secret code he'd used to hide the original content in the file, he played it - it was a video. Not just any video but footage.
It was a wide shot of a private car wash. I noticed a middle-aged man I'd seen in Caden's family mansion step out of the BMV. Was he the one who planted the bomb? Doubtful. He was talking to the carwash owner.
"Fast forward." I leaned closer, watching the footage.
My eyes zeroed in on an odd factor and I snapped my finger. "Pause and zoom in."
Frisbee did as he was told.
I looked at the grainy image on the screen and dragged my hand through my hair.
I pinched the skin between my brows. "You've gotta be kidding me."
"You know her, boss?" He asked.
"Yeah," I turned away from the office.
"Who?
An old flame?" he called behind me.
"No!" I called back. "She's my fucking niece!"
My niece tried to kill Caden.
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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."