The CEO Fired His Secret Heiress
I was the secret weapon who built my CEO's company from the ground up. But the moment he hired his new intern girlfriend, my life became a living hell. She publicly humiliated me, calling me a corporate whore.
She sabotaged our biggest deal by projecting deepfaked porn of me onto the screen during the signing. Then, she smashed an award over my head, leaving me bleeding on the office floor.
And the man I'd dedicated five years of my life to? He looked at my bleeding wound, then at his crying girlfriend, and believed her when she claimed I attacked her.
"You're fired," he spat.
He thought he was firing a disgraced employee. He had no idea he was firing Allie Valenzuela, the sole heiress to the very corporation that had just saved his company.
My next call wasn't to a lawyer. It was to my father.
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Chapter 5
Allie Valenzuela POV:
The chandeliers of the St. Regis ballroom cast a warm, golden glow over the assembled titans of the tech industry. This was the annual Innovator's Gala, a night of self-congratulation and high-stakes networking. I was here as the project lead for our new partnership with Valenzuela Holdings—a deal I had single-handedly brokered, a deal that would secure Innovatech's future for the next decade.
It was also, I had decided, my farewell tour.
I was deep in conversation with the CFO of a rival firm, dissecting the finer points of a recent market fluctuation, when a familiar, unwelcome presence materialized at my side.
Kasey Ballard.
She was clinging to Benjamin's arm like a designer handbag, squeezed into a sequined monstrosity that was at least two sizes too small and entirely wrong for a black-tie event. She looked cheap and out of place, a gaudy bauble in a room full of understated elegance.
Benjamin, for his part, looked uncomfortable. But he smiled gamely as he joined our conversation. "Ah, Allie, holding court as usual."
I gave a polite nod. "Benjamin. I was just discussing the potential impact of the Fed's latest announcement with Mr. Chen."
Benjamin nodded, his eyes lighting up with genuine interest. "Right, the ripple effects on venture capital could be significant. I think…"
He was cut off by Kasey tugging on his sleeve. "Benny, this is so boring. Let's go get some champagne."
Before he could respond, Kasey turned to me, her smile a slash of bright red lipstick. "Allie, you are just amazing," she gushed, her voice sickeningly sweet. "You work so hard. Day and night. You must really, really love this company."
She paused, letting her words sink in, her eyes twinkling with malice. "I mean, the things you must have to do to land a deal like the one with Valenzuela Holdings… It's so impressive. I want to thank you, personally, for all your… sacrifices."
The word ‘sacrifices' hung in the air, weighted with her filthy insinuation. She was painting me as a back-stabber in front of one of the most respected executives in the valley.
The small circle of people around us fell silent. Mr. Chen's smile faltered. The air grew thick with unspoken accusations.
My blood ran cold, but my voice, when I spoke, was steady. "The Valenzuela deal was won on the merit of our technology and the strength of our proposal, Kasey. It was the result of months of professional, data-driven negotiation by our entire team."
I was defending my team, defending my work. Defending my honor.
Kasey just giggled, a high-pitched, empty sound. She gave Benjamin's arm a squeeze. "Oh, Allie, you're so serious! I'm just saying, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do, right? Pull out all the stops."
She winked, a gesture so vulgar it made my stomach turn.
Even Benjamin looked horrified. "Kasey," he hissed, his voice low and angry. "That is completely inappropriate."
Kasey's face fell. She pouted, her lower lip trembling. "What? I was just joking! Why are you always taking her side? Are you sleeping with her? Is that it?"
It was then that she "tripped."
Her movement was so swift, so deliberate, it was almost elegant. One moment she was holding a full flute of champagne, the next, it was arcing through the air, a golden spray of liquid and glass aimed directly at me.
The cold, sticky champagne soaked the front of my silk gown. The delicate fabric, a pale silver, was instantly ruined, a dark stain spreading across the bodice. A collective gasp went through the small crowd. I was exposed, humiliated, standing in a puddle of champagne and broken glass.
Kasey clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide with fake horror. "Oh my god! I am so, so sorry! I'm such a klutz."
But as she looked at me, at my ruined dress, I saw a flicker of triumph in her eyes. A cruel, satisfied smile played on her lips for a split second before the mask of contrition fell back into place.
She had done this on purpose. This was not an accident. This was a calculated, public assault.
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7.2
In the roaring flames of the abandoned warehouse, my skin blistered and peeled.
Through the crackling fire, my sister Elara's malicious voice echoed. She told me my husband, Damien, was dead, and it was all my fault.
For years, I had treated Damien like a monster. I fought him, threw tantrums, and desperately tried to escape our marriage, all because I blindly followed Elara's advice.
"Remember, the harder you fight, the more disgusted he'll get."
She texted me things like that, telling me to smash vases over his head and run away, claiming she was protecting me.
In reality, she was poisoning my mind, stealing my valedictorian spot at university, and plotting to crawl into my billionaire husband's bed.
My foolish rebellion cost me everything, ultimately leading to Damien's tragic death and my own fiery end.
As the massive explosion tore my consciousness to shreds, I finally understood who truly loved me and who the real monster was.
I died suffocating on my own agonizing regret, wishing I could tear Elara apart.
Then, a rush of freezing air punched into my lungs.
I opened my eyes to the crisp scent of cedar and mint. I was back seven years ago, on the very night our marriage was supposed to go to hell.
This time, looking at Damien's flawless, unscarred face, I didn't push him away.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and made a silent vow: I would make every single person who ever hurt him bleed.
7.3
WARNING ⚠️: This book contains sex scenes and mature contents not fit for readers below 18+.
If you love steamy romances and emotional stories, this book is the one.
By day, Damon follows her rules in the kitchen: chopping, kneading, burning his fingers, and surviving her sharp mouth.
By night, she follows his.
Damon Blackwell is a cold, dangerous billionaire who hates Christmas, women, and anything that smells like joy. Haunted by tragedy and trauma, and memories of the girl he once loved and lost, he lives like a machine: money, control, and pleasure without attachment.
Then his grandparents and three ruthless brothers dare him to do the impossible:
Live like a normal man for 12 days to Christmas: no staff, no luxuries, no protection, no control and no bad temper. He has to change and be easygoing with investors.
Fail, and he loses the biggest business deal of his life.
Indulgence is over for him.
The only place Damon knows he can grab survival? A small-town Christmas cooking competition hosted by that one woman who broke his heart years ago.
Merry Steele never expected to see Damon again. The man she left without a word. The man who haunted her dreams after she broke his heart back now stands in her kitchen offering a deal she can't refuse:
Cook for him. Sleep with him. Pretend to be his fiancée until the end of the year.
The pay is tempting. The temptation is even greater.
Before Christmas, can they resist the heat, desire, and lingering love they once shared and keep it strictly business?
As family obligations, enemies, and a high-profile Christmas ball close in, Damon and Merry must correct old heartbreak, passion, and dangerous feelings.
Will Damon ever forgive his fuckmate?
Can Merry resist the billionaire who once stole her heart... or will old flames burn hotter than ever under the snow, the lights, and the Christmas feelings?
9.5
Elsie was the Sutton family's perfect puppet, a sickly heiress locked away in a pristine manor and treated like fragile porcelain. Her only purpose was to be a pawn in her mother's corporate games.
Without warning, her mother ordered her to marry Duke Blake, a ruthless, cold-blooded billionaire known for destroying his rivals. Worse, her mother immediately handed over total control of Elsie's life to him, declaring she couldn't even step outside the gates without his explicit permission.
Desperate, Elsie met him and asked if she would be expected to perform wifely duties, praying for a marriage in name only.
"I have a very high sex drive."
He stated it bluntly, shattering her illusions. Yet, when he drove her into the city days later, a sudden swerve sent her tumbling directly into his lap. Instead of the desire he claimed to possess, his body went completely rigid. He violently shoved her away, slamming her hard against the passenger seat. His face was pale, his knuckles white, and he stared straight ahead with a look of absolute, terrifying revulsion.
Humiliation and sharp pain coiled in her chest. She couldn't understand. Why did he demand absolute control over her and boast about his desires, only to treat her accidental touch like a repulsive disease? Why did this all-powerful man secretly smell of hospital antiseptics? What exactly was the Sutton family forcing her to marry?
But she was no longer willing to be a lamb led to the slaughter. Thinking of the provocative black lace hidden behind her wardrobe's false wall, Elsie smiled coldly. She was going to find the fatal flaw in this ruthless billionaire's code, and use it to completely shatter her cage.
9.2
I stepped from the taxi onto Manhattan's pristine curb, a naive farm girl from Montana. My mission: marry billionaire Julian Sterling for a contract. But my welcome was a trap; that night, I found myself in his bed, a drugged, vulnerable man clinging to me.
The Sterling penthouse became a gauntlet. Julian's mother and stepsister relentlessly tried to undermine my "charity case" facade, insulting, sabotaging, and humiliating me, making my true mission perilous.
Victoria tossed money into my breakfast. Stella set impossible tasks. Julian's friend, Vanessa, bribed me to leave and shamed me at a gala. Julian, cold and suspicious, demanded I "play the fool."
Each cruel prank fueled a quiet fury. It was infuriating to be dismissed, knowing secrets I held. Julian's unexpected vulnerability and my grandfather's mysterious will sparked deeper questions.
But I fought back. I shredded Vanessa's bribe, tamed a pop star, and outwitted Stella's sabotage, proving competence. Julian's disdain shifted to respect. This was now a battle for my inheritance, identity, and hidden truths.
9.1
I woke up in a sterile hospital room, my body feeling like a hollowed-out shell. For fifteen years, I had been the "spare part" of the wealthy Kensington family, a foster child kept only as a biological resource for their golden daughter, Jenna.
My adoptive mother, Kathryn, walked in with a cold-eyed doctor, discussing me like an old car needing parts. They were planning another bone marrow "harvest" for the next morning, even though the doctor admitted the procedure was risky because my body hadn't recovered from the last extraction.
"Passable is fine," Kathryn said, waving away the danger to my life like she was swatting a fly. "Just get it done. It's her only value."
Jenna arrived in a wheelchair, putting on a performance of fragile sisterly love while actually glowing with health from the blood I had given her months ago. I watched as the doctor callously jabbed a needle into my arm, missing the vein on purpose, before turning off my pain medication pump as a final act of petty cruelty. They left me there to rot, convinced I was just a dull, submissive girl with nowhere to go.
I lay in the silence, feeling the weight of every scrap they’d fed me and every hand-me-down I’d worn while Jenna lived in luxury. I realized I was never a daughter to them; I was an organ farm meant to be drained until I was empty.
But as the door clicked shut, the fog of sedation in my brain finally lifted, replaced by a cold, predatory stillness.
"Oracle," my mind whispered. "Online."
I ripped the IV from my arm and escaped into the night, turning a five-dollar piece of junk into a six-million-dollar fortune in the city's darkest underground markets. By the time I returned to the Kensington Manor, I wasn't the useless foster girl they remembered—I was a predator with a massive bank account and a plan to take back everything they stole from me.
7.1
Everyone in the circle knows that the wife of Nicola Green,
the person in charge of the Green family, is divorced with a child.
First, she married the Spenser family with a child.
The Spenser family's eldest son William Spenser is a famous playboy and had countless women.
After a few years, they divocred and Emanda White married the more powerful Nicola Green immediately.
It is said that she is scheming, or slutty, but Nicola Green just like her.
He bought her clothes, jewlry, famous brands everyday.
Finally, she can't bear it and rushed to the study and questioned,
Nicola Green, aren't you satisfied until you drain my last value?
Nicola replied carelessly,
Why, you finally take me seriously?