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 4
"I don’t need you to do anything to me," I snapped, trying to lift my hand.
My body didn’t feel like mine anymore. My arms and legs were heavy, useless, and even the brush of my own fingers against my face felt wrong. Distant. Unreal.
"How much for the night? I’ll pay you double."
The words cut through the haze, and I forced my eyes open.
The man standing in front of me was taking off his shirt.
Panic hit me so hard it stole what little breath I had left. If I’d been thinking clearly, maybe I could’ve done something. But right now, I could barely move my tongue, and apparently someone had decided I was easy.
"Get the hell out! I don’t sleep with men for money!" I hissed.
Suddenly, his weight pressed down on me.
Please let this be a dream. Please not this.
Then he moved.
Cool air brushed over my chest, and a broken gasp slipped from my lips.
"If you don’t sleep with the men in this club, then what exactly is a girl like you doing here?"
His voice was right beside my ear. My eyes fluttered open again, and all I could see was his bare shoulder. Warm skin. The sharp, woody scent of his cologne.
The fear finally cleared some of the fog from my head.
"I came here with friends. I’m not staff. I have a VIP card."
"I almost believed you," he said with a low laugh.
One side of my chest burned where his fingers touched me. I flinched and tried to push him away, struggling to understand what was happening.
"And maybe I would've believed you were innocent, judging by how sweetly you react to me..." His voice dropped lower. "But your outfit says otherwise. Around here, only escorts dress like that."
"What are you doing? Stop! I really came here with friends!" I cried as his knee slid between my legs, pressing insistently against me.
A strange, sharp sensation twisted low in my stomach, making my whole body tremble.
"Friends?" he said with a rough laugh. "Your friends were happy to take my assistant’s offer. One night with you. And from the look of it... they drugged you too. Do real friends do that?"
He went quiet for a second.
"There’s only one person in my life I’d call a friend. And trust me—this isn’t what friendship looks like."
"You don’t know that..." My voice came out weak and slurred. My eyes kept drifting shut, and I couldn’t make myself pull away from the heat of his touch. "You don’t know them..."
"A minute ago, I wasn’t sure, sweetheart," he murmured against my ear. "But maybe this is a lesson you need."
His voice dropped even lower.
"Remember this. The next man might be a lot worse than me. So maybe start thinking harder about the people you trust."
I tried to answer.
I couldn’t.
Why can’t I talk?
Something filled my mouth, slick and unfamiliar, cutting off even my ability to breathe properly. My lips moved, but no sound came out. My throat refused to obey me.
And then everything stopped.
Warm breath brushed across my damp lips.
"You’re adorable..."
Those were the last words I heard before the darkness swallowed me whole.
My scream tore through the silence—
—and disappeared.
***
My head was pounding, and my eyes refused to open.
Did those three really drug me?
Because this felt a lot worse than a hangover.
With a groan, I finally forced my eyes open—and froze.
I had no idea where I was.
The room was dim, but there was enough light for me to see my naked body beneath the sheets.
Horror crashed over me, and I bolted upright.
My hand shook as I slipped it between my legs.
Then I froze.
Wet. Sticky.
Even without experience, I understood immediately.
I’d spent the night with a man.
And I’d lost my virginity.
A sob tore out of me.
Then another.
Tears streamed down my face so fast I could barely breathe. My throat burned, and before I knew it, I was crying so hard I couldn’t stop.
I jerked my hand away and clenched the sheets instead—but there was something underneath them.
Paper.
Blinking through my tears, I looked down.
Money.
Large bills scattered across the bed.
Not only had some stranger taken the one thing I had protected so carefully...
He’d paid me for it.
Like I was nothing but some cheap whore.
Rage exploded inside me, hot and vicious.
I remembered everything.
Everything except what had happened after the room went dark—like my mind had erased the worst part out of mercy.
I’m going to kill Kriss.
The second I see that bitch, I’m going to kill her.
My clothes were crumpled at the foot of the bed. I got dressed as fast as I could. Every inch of my body hurt, and the dull ache low in my stomach reminded me exactly what had happened.
I grabbed the money too.
Not because I wanted it.
Because I was going to throw it in that bastard’s face.
When I stepped into the hallway and headed downstairs, relief flickered inside me when I realized the club was closed.
At least no one would see me like this.
Humiliated. Ruined.
"Hey! Where do you think you’re going?" an annoyed female voice snapped as a wet mop smacked against my legs. "Use the back exit! Don’t walk all over my clean floor!"
I turned.
An older woman stood there glaring at me with obvious disgust.
God. I feel disgusting.
"Where’s the back exit?" I asked quietly.
"What, you don’t know? Or is this your first time doing this kind of work?"
A lump rose in my throat.
"Where. Is. The exit?" I repeated, louder this time.
With an irritated sigh, she jerked her head toward the hallway near the ladies’ room.
I ran.
I ran like my life depended on it.
Like something horrible was chasing me.
Like if I didn’t get out of there, I would die.
The sun hit my face the second I stepped outside, bright and blinding.
It only made everything feel worse.
How could I have been so stupid?
I always knew Kriss was awful.
So why did I still walk right into her trap?
After I called a taxi, there was only one thing I wanted—
to scrub this night off my skin.
Thankfully, Mom and Dad weren’t home.
Neither was Valeri.
I went straight to my room, locked myself in the bathroom, and stood under the hot water for over an hour, crying until there was nothing left.
Maybe that was the difference between me and Valeri.
She never would’ve ended up in a situation like this, trying so hard to prove something to people who didn’t deserve it.
This was my fault.
Maybe this was the cruelest lesson life could’ve taught me.
But at least...
no one knew.
And no one ever would.
I would bury it.
Forget it.
Pretend it never happened.
Why did it take something like this to make me see the truth?
I didn’t have real friends.
And I would rather be alone than surrounded by people like them.
But that didn’t mean I was going to forgive Kriss.
Not a chance.
By the time my tears finally stopped, I was dressed.
And even though my body still remembered everything—
I was going to find that red-haired bitch
and make sure she understood exactly what she’d done.
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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.