The CEO's Asset: Sold To My Enemy
I spent two years trying to please Xander Yates, thinking he was the man who would help me save my family’s struggling manufacturing business. As a former senior legal counsel, I thought I knew how to handle sharks, but I never expected the man I loved to be the one who would try to skin me alive.
Everything shattered at a high-end gala when I felt a chemical fire start in my marrow. Xander had spiked my drink, chasing me through the hotel corridors with a predatory smile, ready to take by force what I wouldn't give him willingly.
I barely escaped into an elevator, stealing a key card from a man in a sharp grey suit and collapsing in room 8086. That stranger turned out to be Crockett Blackburn, the "Ice King of Wall Street" and a man my family had spent years avoiding. He didn't save me out of the goodness of his heart; he saved me because he saw a "messy variable" he could turn into a weapon. By morning, Xander was blackmailing me with a video of me drugged, and Crockett was offering me a deal that felt like a deal with the devil. He would save my factory, but only if I gave him 51% controlling interest and became his personal legal counsel.
The humiliation was total. Xander called me a junkie and a slut, while Crockett looked at the bruises on my neck with the cold, clinical assessment of a man checking a damaged piece of equipment. When a secret bid was leaked, Crockett didn't hesitate to pin the blame on me, accusing me of working with my ex to drive up the price.
I was a pawn in a game between two monsters, one who wanted to destroy my body and another who wanted to own my soul and my family’s legacy. I had lost my apartment, my reputation, and my safety in less than twenty-four hours.
"I don't like it when people break my things," Crockett told me as he applied ointment to the marks Xander left on my throat.
I realized then that if I wanted to survive, I had to stop being the victim and start being the predator. I signed the contract, moved into Blackburn’s penthouse, and prepared for a scorched-earth war against the Yates family. I don't care if Crockett Blackburn is using me as a leash—as long as he lets me be the one to bite.
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Chapter 6
Daniella stared at the contract. It was fifty pages thick.
"51%?" she said. "That's a hostile takeover. I'm giving you my family's legacy."
"You can refuse," Crockett said, checking his watch. "Yates's lawyers will file for liquidation of your factory in about two hours."
Daniella tasted blood. She had bitten her lip too hard. He was right. She had no choice.
She flipped to the back. "Personal Counsel. What does that entail?"
"Managing my personal assets. My trust. And cleaning up... messes," he said. "Like Yates."
He was dangling bait. He was offering her a weapon.
Daniella picked up the pen. Her hand hovered over the signature line.
"One condition," she said. "The ledger stays with me, in escrow with a third party. It is released to you only upon the successful execution of this contract, or to the SEC upon my death."
Crockett let out a short, dry laugh. "Relax. I have a strict policy against sleeping with employees. That night... predated your employment."
Daniella signed. The ink looked black and permanent. She felt like she had just sold her soul.
The door burst open.
Arthur looked panicked. "Sir, Mr. Sterling is here. He says it's urgent."
"Let him in," Crockett said, taking the contract.
Zack Sterling, the VP of Investments, stormed in. He was holding a tablet. "Crockett, you cannot sign the Diaz deal! The risk algorithm shows it's a black hole!"
Zack stopped when he saw Daniella. He sneered. "Oh. It's you. The girl who got kicked out of the Gala."
Daniella went pale.
"Watch your tone, Zack," Crockett said. His voice was quiet, but it cut through the room like a knife. "She is my new Legal Counsel."
Zack looked like he had been slapped. "Are you insane? Her ex's uncle is investigating every dollar she touches!"
"Let him investigate," Crockett stood up. He loomed over the desk. "Tell the DA that Diaz is now a Blackburn asset."
Daniella looked up at him. Her heart skipped a beat. It was a business move, she knew that. But hearing him claim her-claim the company-felt like protection.
"Fine," Zack said, tight-lipped. "But I need to run a full background check."
"Wyatt is already doing it." Crockett waved a hand of dismissal. "Get out."
Zack glared at Daniella and left, slamming the door.
The room was quiet again.
"Don't misunderstand," Crockett said, catching her look. "I just protect my investments. Nobody touches what is mine."
"Understood, sir," Daniella said. The word 'mine' echoed in her head.
"Report to HR. Tomorrow morning at eight, I want a file on every illegal transaction the Yates family has made in the last ten years."
Daniella nodded. She turned to leave.
"Daniella."
She stopped. It was the first time he had used her name since the hotel room.
"Eat breakfast next time," he said, not looking up from his papers. "Your low blood sugar makes your logic sloppy."
Daniella felt a flush rise to her cheeks. She hurried out.
Crockett watched the door close. He picked up his phone and dialed Wyatt, his head of security.
"Find out who let Yates into the ballroom that night," he said. "And fire them."
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7.2
Clare Lynch thought she was celebrating her fairy-tale engagement. She happily drank the pink cocktail her best friend, Brianna, handed her.
But the drink was laced with a powerful, burning drug. As Clare's legs gave out, she overheard Brianna whispering outside the door. Her best friend had hired two thugs to assault her on camera and completely ruin her life.
Terrified and gasping for air, Clare hid in the VIP room and called her fiancé, Jaren, for help.
"I feel sick. Something is wrong. Please come get me."
But Jaren just sighed impatiently, busy comforting his mistress in the background.
"Stop throwing tantrums for attention. Grow up."
Jaren hung up the phone. When Clare finally escaped and begged her grandmother to cancel the wedding, the matriarch coldly refused. She told Clare that marriage was just a business transaction, and she had to endure Jaren's cheating because their family needed the Bolton's money.
Betrayed by her best friend, abandoned by her fiancé, and sold out by her own blood. Clare's world completely collapsed. She was nothing but a bargaining chip, thrown to the monsters by the people she loved most. The sheer injustice of it burned her soul to ash.
With her last ounce of strength, Clare made a desperate choice. She called Aurthur Bolton—Jaren's ruthless, terrifying uncle. When the most dangerous man in New York kicked down the door to save her, Clare made a silent vow. She was done playing the perfect victim. She would let the devil claim her, as long as he helped her burn her abusers to the ground.
9.7
When Dante Moretti discovers his arranged husband is the son of the man who massacred his family, he sees the perfect opportunity for revenge. Alessandro Santoro accepts the marriage as penance for sins he couldn't prevent, expecting nothing but the punishment he believes he deserves.
But living together reveals cracks in the story both families told. Alessandro wasn't the enemy Dante thought. Dante isn't the monster Alessandro feared. As they uncover the real conspiracy behind the massacre, they're forced to choose between the vengeance that's defined them and the fragile connection growing between them.
7.4
"I wanted to ruin her. Instead, I craved her."
Revenge was all Clemente Cassano ever lived for. The son of Sicily's most feared mafia leader, he swore to destroy the man who betrayed his family. His plan was simple-break the daughter, Vivian Gustavo, and watch her father burn.
But Vivian wasn't fragile. She was fire-untouchable, ruthless, intoxicating. And the deeper Santiago pulled her into his darkness, the more he realized she wasn't his enemy... she was his weakness.
7.2
Clara's husband of three years walked into their penthouse with two lawyers.
He threw a divorce agreement on the table, demanding she sign away all her assets. If she refused, he would bankrupt her family and send her mother to federal prison.
He did it all for his new girlfriend, Corinne. After stripping Clara of everything, Kane stood by while Corinne publicly humiliated her, stepping on her fingers and mocking her misery. When Kane suspected Clara might be pregnant, he dragged her to a private clinic. He forced her onto an examination table and ordered a deeply invasive medical check-up, treating her like absolute garbage just to ensure she wasn't carrying his heir.
Lying on the cold medical bed in a thin paper gown, Clara's heart completely shattered. She didn't understand how the man who once promised her forever could turn into such a ruthless monster. She was indeed pregnant, but she knew if he found out, he would steal her baby and destroy her completely.
With the help of a tech-genius friend, Clara faked a negative test result and escaped his clutches. The next day, she walked into their company, threw a bold "I QUIT" note right in the mistress's face, and walked away. Touching her belly, Clara swore she would return to make them pay for every single thing they had done.
8.5
At 3:12 AM, a call from the NYPD shattered the silence of my dorm. My childhood sweetheart and the city’s golden heir, Liam Sterling, was in custody and needed me to bail him out.
I rushed to the precinct, trembling as I swiped my father’s emergency credit card for five thousand dollars, only to watch Liam walk out and head straight for another woman. He had landed in a cell because he’d started a brawl to protect Jade—a girl with pink hair and a jagged attitude—while I was just the "best friend" he called to clean up his mess.
In the backseat of the cab I paid for, I watched the man I loved pull her into his lap, treating me like an invisible chauffeur. When I finally demanded the truth, he didn't apologize; he reminded me that our families were tied by a multi-million dollar merger and that I was "like a sister" to him. My own mother echoed his coldness, telling me to stop being dramatic because our family was secretly bankrupt and we needed the Sterling money to survive.
I spent years being his "good girl," even recording a fake video for the press claiming he was a hero who fought to defend my honor. But the illusion shattered when I saw the photos of him with Jade on my birthday—the same night he told me he was working late to secure our future.
"I love you, Zoe. Like I love my dog. You’re loyal, but you’re boring."
I realized then that I wasn't his partner; I was his shield. He used the trauma of the day he "saved" my life to keep me in his debt, never realizing that the chains of gratitude had finally snapped.
As the Sterling empire began to crumble under a sudden leak of scandals, I didn't run back to Liam. Instead, I looked at the encrypted message from his dangerous, outcast brother, Julian, who had been waiting in the shadows. He didn't just offer me a way out; he offered to buy my family's debt and claim me as the collateral.
7.3
The sound of loud slapping windows jolted her from her sleep. She carefully got down from the bed, walking towards the window to shut it closed.
She froze instantly, turning cold with fear at the familiar figure standing right outside her window.
She staggered backwards. "No," she shook her head in disbelief, but that didn't stop him from jumping through her window.
She ran for the door, desperately trying to unlock it, but it wasn't even budging. Her heart raced in her chest, her palms clammy, and then she felt his large presence behind her, slamming his hand on the door right beside her head.
She slowly turned to find those cold gray eyes staring at her.
She trembled. "H-how did you f-find me?"
A sinister smirk suddenly appeared on his lips, his eyes shining with an evil glint.
"Didn't I tell you, Lilian? You run, I chase."
His hand shot to her throat, his thumb caressing it gently, and then he covered the distance between them, leaning in for his hot breath to fan her neck.
His hand held her small waist, pulling her impossibly closer to himself.
"Now you must be punished, princess."
In a bid to escape her cold husband and her cruel family, Lilian finds herself in an even more dangerous situation that either mends or breaks her.