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 4
Lucy sat by the window in her room, The gloomy sky seemed to reflect her mood as the reality of her life settled around her like a suffocating blanket. She had known that this marriage wasn't going to be easy, but she hadn't expected it to feel so... lonely.
Her mind drifted back to the dinner party from the previous night-Isabel's cruel words still echoed in her ears. Every time she saw her stepsister, it was a reminder that she wasn't welcome in this world. And William... his cold indifference was wearing her down, slowly but surely.
A soft knock on the door interrupted her thoughts, and Lucy turned to see Brad standing in the doorway.
"William wants to see you in his study," he said, his voice as smooth and unreadable as ever.
Lucy nodded, standing up and smoothing her dress. She followed Brad through the long, winding halls of the mansion, her steps heavy with the weight of anticipation. She had no idea what William wanted to talk about, but she doubted it would be pleasant.
When they reached the study, Brad gave her a nod before leaving, shutting the door quietly behind him. Lucy's eyes found William immediately. He was seated behind his large desk, his expression hard as ever, though there was a tension in his posture that made Lucy's stomach twist.
"Sit," William said, gesturing to the chair across from him.
Lucy obeyed, sitting down in the stiff leather chair and clasping her hands in her lap. She waited for him to speak, but he remained silent for a moment, his eyes scanning her face as though trying to read her thoughts.
"You've been careless," William finally said, his voice low and cold.
Lucy frowned, confusion swirling in her mind. "Careless? What do you mean?"
"You've been asking questions," he replied, his tone sharp. "Questions you have no business asking."
Lucy's heart sank. He was referring to her brief conversation with Brad the day before. She hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but now she realized that William knew everything. Of course, he did.
"I wasn't trying to-"
"You weren't trying to what?" William interrupted, his eyes narrowing. "To dig into things that don't concern you?"
Lucy swallowed, feeling the sharpness of his words cut through her. "I didn't mean to pry."
"But you did." William's voice was quiet now, dangerously quiet. "You need to understand something, Lucy. This is not your family's little world of secrets and manipulation. You're in my world now, and there are consequences for crossing lines."
Lucy's breath hitched, but she didn't respond. What could she say? William was right. She had been curious-too curious. But the more time she spent in this house, the more she felt like something was terribly wrong.
William leaned forward slightly, his blue eyes locked onto hers. "Stay in your lane, Lucy. You're here because I allowed it. But that can change."
His words sent a chill through her, though she kept her face as neutral as possible. She didn't want to show him how much his words affected her. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction.
"I understand," Lucy said quietly, lowering her gaze to her lap.
William leaned back in his chair, his expression cold and unreadable once again. "Good. Now go. I have work to do."
Lucy stood up without a word and walked out of the study, her mind reeling from the conversation. As she made her way back to her room, she couldn't help but feel a sense of dread creeping into her chest. William's warning was clear-she was walking a fine line, and one wrong step could send everything crashing down.
---
Hours later, Lucy found herself in the kitchen, helping the staff prepare for another event that William was hosting later that evening. She wasn't sure why she had offered to help-perhaps it was her way of trying to feel useful in a world where she had no real place.
As she chopped vegetables in the kitchen, she felt a presence behind her. Turning around, she saw her stepmother, Mirabel, standing in the doorway, watching her with a calculating gaze.
"I didn't expect to see you here, Lucy," Mirabel said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Playing the role of the dutiful wife, are we?"
Lucy's jaw clenched, but she kept her voice steady. "I'm just helping out."
"Helping out?" Mirabel's eyes glinted with amusement. "How noble of you. But I'm afraid that won't change anything. You're still nothing more than a placeholder."
Lucy looked away, refusing to let Mirabel's words get under her skin. She knew that her stepmother enjoyed tormenting her-always had. But here, in William's house, it felt even more oppressive.
"Don't you have something better to do, Mirabel?" Lucy asked, her voice tight with frustration.
Mirabel took a step closer, her presence looming over Lucy like a dark shadow. "Oh, darling, I'm just here to remind you of your place. You see, I know how these things work. You may be Mrs. Ashcroft for now, but that doesn't mean you'll keep that title forever."
Lucy turned to face her stepmother fully, her chest tightening with anger. "I'm not interested in playing your games, Mirabel."
Mirabel smirked, her green eyes gleaming with cruelty. "Oh, but you are. You just don't know it yet."
Before Lucy could respond, Mirabel leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "William may tolerate you for now, but he doesn't love you. He never will."
With that, Mirabel straightened up and walked away, leaving Lucy standing there, her hands shaking with the effort it took to keep herself composed.
---
That evening, as Lucy prepared for the event, she couldn't shake the heaviness that hung over her like a storm cloud. William's harsh words, combined with Mirabel's cruel taunts, left her feeling more isolated than ever.
She stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the straps of her black evening gown. The dress was elegant, sleek, and fit her perfectly, but no amount of finery could cover up the fact that she was playing a role she didn't belong in.
A soft knock on the door made her turn. Isabel entered the room without waiting for an invitation, her smug expression making Lucy's stomach churn.
"You look... decent," Isabel said, her tone dripping with false kindness. "But then again, it's not about how you look, is it?"
Lucy turned back to the mirror, refusing to engage with her stepsister. She knew what Isabel was here for-to gloat, to remind her that she didn't belong. And she wasn't going to give Isabel the satisfaction of seeing her react.
"Don't worry, Lucy," Isabel continued, her voice silky. "It won't be long before William tires of this little arrangement. After all, he's not the kind of man who settles for mediocrity."
Lucy's fingers tightened around the edge of the vanity, but she remained silent. She knew that Isabel's goal was to break her, to make her feel small and insignificant. But she wouldn't give in.
"You'll see," Isabel said with a smirk, turning to leave the room. "It's only a matter of time."
As the door clicked shut behind her, Lucy let out a slow breath, her chest tight with the weight of everything that had happened. She felt trapped, not just by her marriage but by the people around her-Isabel, Mirabel, even William. They all wanted something from her, and she wasn't sure she had anything left to give.
---
The event that evening was much like the others-glamorous, filled with powerful people, and suffocating in its extravagance. Lucy stood beside William, her arm linked with his as they moved through the room, greeting guests and making small talk.
But tonight, something felt different. William's grip on her arm was firmer than usual, almost possessive. His demeanor, always cold and distant, seemed sharper, as though he was on edge.
As they made their way through the crowd, Lucy caught sight of Brad across the room, his eyes watching them closely. There was something in his gaze that made her uneasy, but she couldn't quite place what it was.
"William," Lucy said softly, glancing up at him. "Is everything okay?"
William's jaw clenched, but he didn't respond. Instead, he steered her toward a quiet corner of the room, away from the prying eyes of the guests.
When they were finally alone, William turned to face her, his expression hard. "You need to be more careful."
Lucy frowned, confusion swirling in her mind. "What do you mean?"
"You've been too visible," William said, his voice low and cold. "People are starting to notice."
Lucy blinked, taken aback by his words. "Notice what? I haven't done anything wrong."
William's eyes narrowed. "You don't understand. You're drawing attention-attention we don't need."
Lucy swallowed hard, her chest tightening. "I'm just trying to..."
"To what?" William interrupted, his voice sharp. "To play the perfect wife? This isn't about you, Lucy. This is about keeping up appearances. And right now, you're not doing a good job."
Lucy's breath caught in her throat, the weight of his words drove her crazy. She had known that William's feelings for her were cold at best, but hearing him say it so plainly still hurt.
"I'm trying my best," Lucy said quietly, her voice barely heard.
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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.