The Broken CEO's Healing Bride
Lucy Taylor never expected to be loved when she agreed to billionaire CEO, William Ashcroft, in place of her step sister to save her family's reputation. But as she gets to know him, she finds out he's completely different from the man she thought he was. As they grew closer, they realize they're in love. But what happens when trouble lurks around the corner? With a greedy stepsister and a maniac rival on their ends? Will they be able to survive or will their relationship crash under the weight of problems coming their way?
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Chapter 3
Lucy clenched her fists at her sides, trying to maintain her composure as Isabel's words replayed in her mind. She knew Isabel was here to stir trouble, but she wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of seeing her upset. William stood beside her, still and silent, like a shield made of ice.
"I belong exactly where I am," Lucy said, her voice steady. "I don't need your approval, Isabel."
Isabel's smile tightened, her grey eyes glinting with malice. "We'll see about that."
Before Lucy could respond, William's firm grip on her lower back nudged her forward. "Come, Lucy," he said, his tone sharp and dismissive. "We've had enough of this conversation."
William's calm demeanor never wavered as they moved away from Isabel, his hand still resting on her as they maneuvered through the crowd. Lucy struggled to keep her expression neutral, aware of the dozens of eyes on them.
They reached a quieter corner of the room, away from prying eyes, when William finally spoke. "You handled yourself well," he said, his eyes fixed ahead, never meeting hers.
"Thank you," Lucy replied, unsure whether it was meant as a compliment or simply an observation. "Isabel knows how to push buttons."
"She's irrelevant," William said flatly. "Don't give her more attention than she deserves."
Lucy frowned, wanting to ask more, but decided against it. The last thing she wanted was to provoke another cold response from William. Instead, she shifted the conversation. "You've known her for a long time?"
William's jaw tightened slightly. "Long enough to know her motives."
Lucy was about to ask what those motives were, but William's expression made it clear he wouldn't elaborate further. It was as if any conversation beyond the bare minimum was off-limits. It stung that he still kept her at arm's length, even as they presented themselves as a united front in public.
Before she could say anything else, Brad appeared, smoothly slipping into the conversation. "William, there's someone here you should speak with about the fundraising deal. Should I make introductions?"
William nodded curtly, his expression returning to its usual unreadable mask. "Lucy, I'll return shortly. Stay here."
Without waiting for a response, William wheeled himself toward Brad, disappearing into the throng of guests.
Alone again, Lucy scanned the room, feeling even more out of place now that William had left her side. She wasn't sure if she felt relieved or abandoned. Being William's wife was proving to be far more complicated than she had ever anticipated.
Before long, she noticed her stepmother, Mirabel Carson, standing across the room, her green eyes gleaming with interest as they locked onto Lucy. Lucy's stomach churned at the sight of her stepmother, the woman who had never once treated her as part of the family. Mirabel's gaze was piercing, and as she glided toward Lucy, Lucy braced herself.
"Well, Lucy," Mirabel said with a smile that didn't reach her eyes, "you're certainly making a spectacle of yourself tonight."
"I'm just trying to scale through this evening," Lucy replied, keeping her tone even.
Mirabel tilted her head, her eyes scanning Lucy's dress and posture with barely hidden disdain. "I see William still hasn't given you any real status. You're here, but you're not truly one of them."
Lucy met Mirabel's gaze, refusing to let her words cut deeper than they already had. "I'm not trying to prove anything, Mirabel. I'm here because this is my life now."
Mirabel smirked, taking a sip from her champagne glass. "Oh, my dear, don't be naïve. William only sees you as a pawn, just like your father did when he married me." She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You're replaceable."
Lucy clenched her teeth but remained silent. She wasn't going to rise to the bait. Mirabel had always known how to dig into her insecurities, but this was different. Lucy wasn't the timid young girl she used to be. She was stronger now, even if no one else saw it.
"Enjoy the rest of the party," Lucy said coolly, stepping away from her stepmother.
Mirabel's laugh followed her, but Lucy kept walking, her resolve hardening with each step. She wasn't going to let these people-Isabel, Mirabel, or anyone else-dictate her worth.
*****
As the dinner party dragged on, Lucy retreated to the balcony for some fresh air. The night was cool, and the distant hum of the city provided a comforting background noise to her swirling thoughts. She leaned on the railing, letting her gaze drift over the glittering lights of New York City.
For a brief moment, she allowed herself to dream of a life where her marriage wasn't just a transaction, where she and William could have a normal relationship. But the reality of their arrangement always snapped her back to the present.
"You looked like you could use some company," Brad's voice interrupted her thoughts.
Lucy turned to find him standing beside her, his expression warm but curious. "You have a talent for showing up at just the right time," she said, trying to sound light-hearted.
Brad chuckled softly. "It's part of the job."
Lucy smiled faintly but didn't respond. She wasn't sure how much she could trust Brad. He seemed to always be around, and while his presence wasn't entirely unwelcome, she couldn't shake the feeling that he knew more than he let on.
"I'm sorry if tonight has been overwhelming," Brad said after a moment. "These kinds of events can be... intense, especially with the family dynamics at play."
Lucy gave a small nod. "I've learned that quickly."
Brad leaned on the railing beside her, his tone casual. "If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here. I've known William for a long time. He can be... difficult."
"I've noticed," Lucy said quietly. "He keeps everything locked up inside."
"That's how he's always been," Brad replied. "Even before the accident."
Lucy's ears perked up at that. "The accident..."
Brad nodded, his gaze thoughtful. "It changed a lot for him. Physically, of course, but also mentally. He used to be... different."
Lucy hesitated, unsure if she should pry. "Do you think he'll ever be the way he used to?"
Brad's eyes flicked to hers, and for a brief moment, there was something unreadable in his gaze. "I don't know. That's for him to decide."
The weight of his words were too huge between them, leaving Lucy with more questions than answers.
****
William eventually returned to her side, his face showing no signs of the conversations he had engaged in. Lucy had expected him to be worn out, but he remained as composed as ever.
"It's time to leave," William said, his voice devoid of emotion.
Lucy nodded, and they made their way out of the party together. The drive back to the mansion was silent, with only the low hum of the car's engine filling the space between them. William stared out of the window, deep in thought, while Lucy's mind reminiscing with everything that had happened that night.
Once they arrived at the mansion, William didn't say a word as he wheeled himself toward his study, leaving Lucy alone in the massive, empty house. She stood in the grand foyer for a moment, the weight of the evening settling heavily on her shoulders.
With a sigh, Lucy headed upstairs to her room. She needed to rest, but her mind was filled with too many thoughts to relax. As she lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, she couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right. There was more to William than he was letting on, and there was definitely more to this marriage than just a business arrangement.
And then there was Isabel and her constant presence. What was her endgame? Lucy knew her stepsister well enough to know that Isabel wouldn't give up on whatever twisted plan she had in mind. The dinner party had only been the beginning.
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8.8
I woke up in a penthouse suite at the Pierre with a hangover from hell and a naked man who looked like he'd been carved from marble. Thinking he was a high-end escort I couldn't afford, I left my last hundred dollars and a petty note on the nightstand.
"Service was acceptable. Keep the change."
But when I rushed home to check on my dying father, I found the locks changed and my boyfriend, Chad, draped over my stepsister on the landing. My stepmother, Meredith, didn't even look up from her coffee as she handed me a legal folder.
She told me to sign away my inheritance or she'd stop paying for my father's life support. The hospital called seconds later, demanding fifty thousand dollars by the end of the day, or they'd pull the plug.
Meredith had already arranged my "payment": a dinner with Boris Gorsky, a predator who collected young women like trophies. I was being sold to a monster to keep my father alive, standing in a thrift-store dress while my family laughed at my ruin.
I didn't understand how my life had collapsed in twelve hours, or how my own blood could put a price tag on a man's life. I sat at that restaurant trembling, waiting for the man who would buy my soul.
Then the man from the hotel walked in. It wasn't Gorsky; it was August Sanders, the billionaire CEO of a media empire, and he was holding my hundred-dollar bill.
He didn't want an apology; he wanted a contract wife for a year. He slid a confirmation for a five-hundred-thousand-dollar hospital deposit across the table and handed me a fountain pen.
"Welcome to the firm, Mrs. Sanders."
I signed the paper with a shaking hand, knowing I was trading my freedom for my father's life. But as August handed me his black card, I realized I finally had the weapon I needed to destroy the people who thought I was nothing.
7.4
I was the bankrupt socialite everyone pitied, standing in the mud at my mother's grave with nothing left but a pair of old Louboutins and a single white rose. My bank account was overdrawn by three hundred dollars, but I still believed Julian, my fiancé, was the one person who hadn't abandoned the toxic Compton name.
Then I saw his Maybach shaking in the cemetery parking lot. Through a crack in the window, I heard the man I loved whispering to my stepsister, Tiffany.
"Don't worry about the broke princess. Once I secure her voting proxy for the trust, I'm dumping her."
Tiffany laughed, clutching the scarlet coat she'd charged to my own maxed-out credit card.
"She's so pathetic, Julian. She actually thinks you love her."
I didn't scream; I recorded them. But when I tried to use that leverage, my family turned into vipers. To protect Julian's status, they framed me for causing Tiffany to miscarry a fake pregnancy and planted stolen documents in my bag. My own father stood by as they locked me in a room, planning to sell me to a predatory creditor named Hightower to settle his gambling debts. I ended up in a freezing police cell, my ankle shattered and my reputation destroyed.
I sat on that metal bench, shivering as I realized my own blood had traded my life for a check. I called the only man powerful enough to burn them all-Julian's uncle, the "Butcher of Wall Street," Alden Stark. The phone just kept ringing. He wasn't coming. To the world, I was just a walking bankruptcy filing, a girl who had finally run out of luck.
I didn't wait for a savior. I escaped custody and ran barefoot through the rain, leaving a trail of blood on the marble floor of Stark Tower. When I collapsed at Alden's feet, he didn't look at me with pity; he looked at me like a rare, damaged artifact he finally owned.
"Inform the board that this is my fiancée," he announced, lifting me into his arms.
I signed the marriage contract that night, trading my freedom for the power to ensure my family's liabilities exceeded their assets for the rest of their natural lives.
7.5
I spent three weeks scrubbing carbonized grease off woks at the Jade Garden, hiding my elite tactical training behind raw knuckles and a practiced, submissive stutter. My mission was the only thing keeping me sane: finding my sister, Elena, who vanished into thin air after her phone last pinged near the city’s Restricted Sector.
The breakthrough came when my boss, a bully named Uncle Wong, forced me to take a delivery to 101 Blackwood Drive—a high-security fortress where the drivers whispered that people went in and never came back right. It was a geographic match for Elena's last known location, but as I rode my battered scooter toward the massive steel gates, I realized I wasn't just investigating a lead; I was walking into a spider's web.
The mansion was a monolith of cold concrete and military-grade surveillance, owned by Hugh Bradford, a billionaire who controlled the city’s elite like puppets. During my delivery, the magnetic locks hissed shut, the lights died, and I was plunged into absolute darkness with a predator who didn't want my money. Bradford pinned me against a stainless steel counter and did something unthinkable: he sank his teeth into my shoulder, using the rhythm of my frantic pulse to anchor his own fractured mind.
I escaped with a bruised neck and a thousand-dollar "tip," feeling the crushing weight of his violation and the terrifying realization that my "clumsy immigrant" act hadn't fooled him for a second. I didn't understand why a man of his power would treat a delivery girl like a biological drug, or what he had done to the other girls who had vanished behind those black glass walls.
My heart hammered against my ribs as I realized I was being hunted by a man who could buy and sell my life a thousand times over.
"You're terrified," he had whispered in the dark, and for the first time in years, I wasn't faking it.
Back in my apartment, I found a note tucked inside the cash that confirmed my worst fears:
"For the inconvenience. See you Tuesday."
He thinks he’s found a new toy to play with, but he just gave me the one thing I needed to find my sister—an invitation to go back inside and finish what I started.
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.
9.6
Annabelle lay dying on a rotting mattress in a freezing apartment, her lungs failing from severe malnutrition.
Her phone rang. It was her fiancé, Axel, calling from his lavish wedding—with her best friend, Fay.
"You were just a naive ATM," Axel chuckled over the phone.
He admitted he had drained her trust fund and framed her for the drug scandal that ruined her life.
Fay took the phone, wearing the haute couture wedding dress Annabelle had designed for herself.
"Your parents' private jet crash wasn't an accident," Fay whispered viciously.
The brutal truth shattered Annabelle. She died in pure agony, vomiting blood, her eyes wide open in absolute hatred.
But as her soul floated above her corpse, the door was kicked open by Dangelo Valencia—the arrogant heir she had despised her entire life.
He held her ruined body, sobbing, and ordered his private army to destroy Axel and Fay, sending them to prison.
Then, Dangelo collapsed, dying from a military shrapnel wound he got just to prove his worth after she had cruelly rejected him years ago.
Watching him bleed out for her, Annabelle's soul screamed in excruciating guilt.
Why had she blindly trusted a parasite who murdered her family, while destroying the only man who would burn the world down to avenge her?
When she opened her eyes again, she was back in her pristine high school uniform.
She had returned to the exact day she was supposed to fund Axel's startup.
This time, she ripped his business plan to shreds and walked straight out to find Dangelo.
7.2
For ten years, Aurora was abandoned by her wealthy family to rot in the countryside.
When she finally returned, there was no warm welcome. The Lott family only brought her back to replace her adopted sister in an arranged marriage with Damian Yates, a notoriously violent, crippled billionaire, just to save their bankrupt company.
Her grandmother mocked her as uneducated trash. Her fake sister feigned disgust at her very presence.
When her biological father desperately tried to stop them from sending his daughter to her death, the family turned on him.
Her grandmother struck her father across the face, kicked the three of them out of the manor into the freezing rain, and arrogantly declared they would starve on the streets by nightfall.
They thought Aurora was just a helpless, pathetic hillbilly who would quietly accept being sold as livestock.
They had no idea that over the past decade, she had survived the darkest corners of the world, becoming a lethal operative with unimaginable power.
Standing in the cold rain, Aurora didn't shed a single tear.
She calmly pulled out her encrypted phone, personally canceled the billionaire's marriage contract, and ordered her hacker to completely freeze the Lott family's accounts.
"Total financial annihilation. Burn them to the ground."
But as she watched her abusers' legacy crumble, a classified file arrived on her phone, revealing that the very billionaire she just rejected was tied to her mother's unsolved murder.
The real hunt was just beginning.