The CEO Who Won't Let Me Go
I've always been the unwanted child-the invisible one. The rebel no one ever tried to understand.
And yet, I never resented my perfect, beloved sister. All I ever wanted was for her to be happy.
But one cruel twist of fate-and a devastating betrayal by someone I trusted-changed everything.
I woke up in a stranger's bed, losing the one thing I had guarded so carefully. Back then, I thought that was my greatest loss.
I was wrong.
Because not long after, my sister introduced me to her fiancé.
And the man standing in front of me... was the same stranger from that night.
Now he haunts me-day and night, in my dreams and in my waking hours. And just when I start to believe the nightmare might finally fade with the dawn, Alan walks back into my life.
This time, he has no intention of letting me forget.
Not the insult I dealt him.
...or that one unforgettable night.
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Chapter 1
"Why don’t you want to come with us, Zoe?" my sister asked again, peppering me with questions while I pinned her hair into an elegant updo. "All you have to do is put on one of my dresses, and you'd look gorgeous."
"Maybe. But my friends are waiting for me at the club, and I don't want to bail on them," I said, giving her a small, smug smile.
The mirror attached to the vanity reflected two complete opposites.
Valeri was light. I was darkness.
Somehow, though, our parents had gotten our hair colors backwards.
Valeri was a tiny brunette with a delicate figure, her soft curves hidden beneath a beautiful burgundy dress from some designer brand I didn't recognize. Fashion had never really been my thing. Every conversation about it made me feel like an idiot. I could admit her dress was gorgeous, but to me, it was way too proper.
I had more curves, wider hips, and no desire to hide any of it. My short black dress looked, in my mother's words, "like something a cheap slut would wear."
Naturally, I'd paired it with heavy makeup and loose blonde curls falling down my back.
"I don't like your friends, Zoe," Valeri said with a sigh, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Especially Kriss. Honestly, you should stop hanging out with all three of them. Can't you tell they're only using you? The only reason they get into places like this is because of your last name."
Her words hit harder than I wanted them to.
Of course I knew they were using me.
But I needed them.
Needed them like oxygen, if only because they drove my mother insane. The only time she ever seemed to notice I existed was when I did something she hated.
Even tonight, the four of us were going to one of the most exclusive clubs in the city using a pass I'd stolen from Mom's purse.
Did I actually want to spend the evening with them?
Not really.
But no one had invited me to the company's anniversary party with the rest of the family, and there was no way I was going to beg.
"I'll think about it," I said, setting the curling iron down and unplugging it. "Your hair's done. Go. And good luck meeting your fiancé. I'm sure he's wonderful. Mom and Dad would never marry you off to just anybody."
Valeri got to her feet and turned toward me. One look at her face, and I braced myself for another lecture.
Instead, her expression softened, and she smiled.
You couldn't hide happiness like that. Not even when you were trying to scold your little sister.
"He's amazing, Zoe. I really want you to meet him."
"You'll get your chance eventually," I said. "Tomorrow you'll tell me everything."
Valeri pouted.
"So you're not coming home until morning? I wanted to tell you tonight." She grabbed her purse and headed for the door. "Don't get drunk. I won't survive waiting that long."
"I'll try," I said with a quiet laugh.
Not that it mattered. I didn't drink.
No matter how hard my terrible friends tried to talk me into it, I always refused. I liked knowing exactly what was going on around me. I smoked sometimes, sure, but cigarettes didn't make you lose control.
A few minutes before nine, my parents left the house arm in arm with Valeri, and I called a cab to the club.
I met my partners in bad decisions right outside the entrance to the most exclusive place in the city.
I knew Mom came here all the time.
It was her favorite club.
And tonight, I was finally going to find out why.
"Zoe!" a gorgeous redhead squealed, throwing herself around my neck.
Even in my heels, I was still way shorter than Kriss, and my face ended up shoved straight into her cleavage. She always tried so hard to look expensive, but the cheap perfume she drowned herself in ruined the effect.
"I thought you weren't coming."
"Like I'd miss this?" I said with a smile, glancing over at the guys standing a few feet away.
"So what are we waiting for?" Kriss asked. "You brought the pass, right?"
"Obviously."
I pulled the small black card with the gold crown out of my purse and flashed it.
Miron gave a low whistle. Sergey grinned, wrapped an arm around both Kriss and me, and steered us toward the entrance.
The bouncer looked us over with obvious suspicion. For a second, I thought he was going to stop us.
Then he saw the card.
Rules were rules.
Anyone with one of those got in.
His jaw tightened, but he stepped aside without another word.
Inside, soft dance music drifted through the huge, expensive-looking club. The place practically screamed money.
I followed the others toward the bar.
There weren't many nonalcoholic options, but there were a few. I ordered a milkshake and turned to look around.
Everywhere I looked, men and women sat in small groups, drinking, laughing, unwinding after the week. Among the rich businessmen, spoiled socialites, and women polished to perfection, there were plenty of girls who clearly weren't there for the free champagne.
I watched one of them leave with an older man and disappear upstairs.
What was up there? Private rooms? VIP suites? Something else?
"Try this. It's incredible," Kriss said, holding out a glass full of some suspicious dark-blue cocktail.
"No thanks. You know I don't drink." My gaze drifted across the room again before landing on a huge aquarium against the far wall. Instantly, I wanted a closer look. "I'm going for a walk."
"And I'm going dancing!" Kriss announced.
She shoved her drink onto the bar, grabbed Sergey by the arm, and dragged him toward the dance floor. He looked less than upset about it considering he'd been openly staring at one of the dancers a second earlier.
Carefully balancing on my heels, I made my way through the crowd, weaving between tables with my milkshake in hand.
I almost made it to the aquarium.
Almost.
A man stepped around the corner so suddenly I crashed right into him.
My drink splashed all over the front of his jacket.
"Oh my God. I'm so sorry," I blurted, looking up.
The man towering over me looked absolutely furious.
Another guy appeared behind him.
"Everything okay, Al?"
"No," the first man said coldly. "It's not."
Then he looked down at me like I'd just crawled out from under his shoe.
"How exactly are you planning to pay for that?"
I had always hated rich jerks who thought the world revolved around them.
Without breaking eye contact, I opened my purse, took out my wallet, and counted out enough cash for dry cleaning.
Then I slid the bills into the pocket of his jacket.
"There's a cleaner around the corner," I said coolly. "They'll make it look brand new. That should cover it. Keep the change."
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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.
8.9
Betrayed by the people she trusted most, Ava Lin's perfect life shatters overnight. From losing her mother under mysterious circumstances to being tormented by her stepmother and stepsister, Ava learns early that love in her world comes at a price. But nothing prepares her for the ultimate betrayal,catching her fiancé in bed with her own sister just weeks before their wedding.
Humiliated and heartbroken, Ava makes a reckless decision that changes everything: a contract marriage to a stranger. What she doesn't know is that her new husband is Elias Ward,a powerful, cold-hearted billionaire with secrets of his own.
Thrown into a world of wealth, power, and hidden enemies, Ava finds herself entangled in a dangerous game of revenge, lies, and unexpected passion. As she rises from the ashes of betrayal, those who once destroyed her will stop at nothing to bring her down even if it means exposing deadly secrets buried in her past.
But when love begins to bloom in the most unexpected place, Ava must decide,will she continue fighting for revenge, or risk everything for a second chance at love?
In a story filled with scandal, heartbreak, and justice, one woman's pain becomes her greatest strength... and her ultimate weapon.
9.7
Clarissa rushed into a crowded nightclub for one simple reason: to save her wildly drunk best friend.
But her ruthless billionaire husband, Giovanny, was watching from the VIP room. After effortlessly ruining a man just for grabbing her wrist, Giovanny punished Clarissa for breaching their public image contract with an impossible curfew.
When she inevitably arrived back at his penthouse late, he didn't just yell. He forced her to her knees by his bathtub to wash his back, making her watch an explicit, humiliating video as punishment.
A sudden family medical emergency dragged them to his parents' estate. Still in her soaked, transparent dress and his misbuttoned shirt, Giovanny's mother caught them. She joyfully assumed they had been passionately intimate.
Instead of clearing her name, Giovanny pulled Clarissa close and lied to his mother's face.
"We are working very hard on the family's future, Mother."
He locked her in the guest suite, tossed a sheer silk nightgown on the bed, and literally shattered the tablet holding their "no-contact" prenuptial agreement. He then slapped a file against the window—he had secretly bought all her father's toxic debt.
Clarissa was terrified. They were supposed to be business allies bound by a strict contract. Why was he suddenly acting like a predator determined to own her body and soul?
"Give me an heir, or your father goes to federal prison," he whispered.
Stripped of all choices, Clarissa picked up the white silk. She would surrender tonight to save her family, but as his shadow swallowed her, she made a silent vow to survive this monster, and one day, tear his empire to the ground.
8.7
Five years ago, I was the invisible scholarship charity case at an elite Manhattan prep school, trying to survive in a sea of trust-fund babies.
Arlo Hammond, the untouchable billionaire heir, made sure to completely dismantle my soul.
When his wealthy friends asked if he noticed me, his mocking laughter echoed down the hallway.
"Are you out of your mind? You seriously think I'd be interested in a boring little nerd like her?"
But the moment we were alone, he would corner me in dark alleys, pinning my wrists against brick walls with terrifying, possessive jealousy if my phone even buzzed. He played his twisted games until I was left standing in the rain with my shattered dignity.
Now, I am an Assistant District Attorney. I spent years burying those memories under mountains of legal files.
But tonight, he returned.
When we crossed paths at an exclusive club, he looked at me with the cool detachment he'd give a piece of furniture. In front of a crowd of elites, he coldly declared:
"We have absolutely nothing to do with each other anymore."
Then he walked away to pick up a supermodel, leaving me trembling from the sheer humiliation.
I didn't understand. If I was so worthless to him, why did he still have my birthday tattooed in dark ink on his wrist? Why did he look at me with such raw, painful vulnerability in the shadows?
I stared at my pale reflection in the mirror and made a silent vow.
I am not that pathetic seventeen-year-old anymore, and I will prove to him that I am completely, entirely over him.
7.6
My father raised seven brilliant orphans to be my potential husbands. For years, I only had eyes for one of them, the cold and distant Damien Paul, believing his distance was a wall I just had to break through.
That belief shattered last night when I found him in the garden, kissing his foster sister, Eve—the fragile girl my family took in at his request, the one I had treated like my own sister.
But the true horror came when I overheard the other six Fellows talking in the library.
They weren't competing for me. They were working together, orchestrating "accidents" and mocking my "stupid, blind" devotion to keep me away from Damien.
Their loyalty wasn't to me, the heiress who held their futures in her hands. It was to Eve.
I wasn't a woman to be won. I was a foolish burden to be managed. The seven men I grew up with, the men who owed my family everything, were a cult, and she was their queen.
This morning, I walked into my father's study to make a decision that would burn their world to the ground. He smiled, asking if I'd finally won Damien over.
"No, Dad," I said, my voice firm. "I'm marrying Hunter Beach."
7.5
To survive a lethal genetic breakdown, Holden, a legendary mercenary known as "Ghost," was forced into an arranged marriage with the wealthy heiress Julia Ramsey.
But the moment he stepped into the lavish estate wearing an oil-stained jacket, he was treated like absolute garbage.
Julia accused him of being a perverted stalker, pulling a gun on him and demanding he be thrown out. Even after Holden used a forbidden kinetic strike to save her grandfather from a fatal heart attack, the family still looked at him with pure disgust. Julia confined him to a cramped guest room, warning him to stay out of her life. To make matters worse, his other estranged fiancée, an elite military commander, barged into the penthouse just to throw an annulment in his face.
"You are a pathetic, bottom-feeding parasite! You have no ambition. You hide in this woman's apartment like a stray dog. You are entirely beneath me."
She mocked him in front of Julia, completely blind to the fact that Holden had just effortlessly incapacitated her Tier-1 operative with a single strike. They all thought he was just a greedy, low-class thug clinging to their wealth. They had no idea they were mocking an apex predator who commanded the city's underground and hunted mutant monsters for sport.
When Julia forced him to attend a high-society yacht party as part of a trap to publicly humiliate him, Holden just smirked and took a sip of his cheap beer.
He was more than happy to play along, already calculating exactly how he was going to tear their arrogant little world apart.