The Deal with the Billionaire Devil
"This is not a game." As I wrapped my arm around her waist, I slipped my hand under her dress.
"What are you doing?" She froze, eyes like a deer caught in the headlights.
Kissing the back of her ear, I whispered, "Do you want me to take it out now?" I rubbed my finger against her pussy. As expected, she was soaking. A blaze of lust and need swept through me. My cock was hard, pressed against her ass. "You're drenched, my love. I know you enjoy it. Stop fighting it. Give in. Submit to your desire."
***
TARA
A family practice forces me to run away from home, leaving me disgraced and my family in shame.
Just when I start making new friends, someone threatens to expose who I am and the person behind my nom de plume. The condition- a contract marriage, the very same reason I fled from.
So, what's so different this time? Mad Shanewood- the achingly handsome, with waving red flags, an irrefutable passion, or a magnetic attraction?
With my secrets still haunting me, now the whole world is watching, and our delicately fragile public image is at stake.
After a glimpse beneath his shallow exterior, there is a damaged soul who makes me feel as if I'm everything to him.
And how is it that the one thing I never wanted has me fighting so hard to keep?
***
MAD
I always get the deal done until my recklessness has thrown the company into a tailspin, derailing my path to a billion-dollar project.
With my image under brutal public scrutiny, marriage is my last straw.
Tara Montimer not only intrigues me. She's selfless, kind-hearted, and sexy as hell. And something deep in her eyes makes me question if I'm worthy to be her husband.
For me, it seems that it's not just fixing my reputation anymore- the entrancing deposed princess didn't only steal my breath away. She penetrates the protective wall around my heart that I built for years.
Our goals may be aligned. But then there's a disapproving father who is a King, a law, and constant threats that prevent us from getting married.
Will this razor-thin edge arrangement be enough to fix what's been broken, or is something between us worth fighting for?
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Chapter 3
MAD
As I scanned the familiar faces in the conference room, landing last at my father, it took me seconds to realize that they had started the meeting without me.
I checked the time on my watch. I was five minutes early. Like always, I had never been late to work or a meeting, and it suddenly concerned me.
"Glad you're here now," my father addressed my presence formally. "Take a seat."
"Why do I feel like I'm a guest here instead of the CEO of this company?" In protest, I remained standing across from my father before the board members. "What's going on?"
"I didn't know either," my assistant Ali whispered. "I'm sorry, sir."
"It's not your fault," I assured her that her job was safe.
My father's assistant, Vanessa Dylan, placed today's newspaper issue before me.
"That's why we're here early," my father said firmly, staring right into my eyes.
I didn't have to check to know that my face was on the front page and all over the internet again, like I'd been for the last two months.
If I weren't strong enough and a man still filled with dreams and plans for the company, surrounded by the people who cared about me, and had a paid therapist to listen to my bullshits, I would have turned myself into a monk or a stone.
"I can explain." I swallowed down the bile rising in my throat as that video flashed in my head.
"I don't want your explanation, Madden. Your image is getting from bad to worse." My father was a good man, a brilliant strategist and businessman, but looking at him right now, he was like a starving lion about to lunge at me and feast on his fresh meat.
"What do you want me to do, Dad? It was my best friend's birthday."
"I don't wanna hear more excuses. So you couldn't go to his house, greet him, or send him a gift or something? Instead, you went to the nightclub and exposed yourself to the hungry tabloids again. We've been trying to fix your image, for Pete's sake, Madden, but you're not even trying hard to help yourself."
I breathed deeply while everyone around said nothing but listened to my father and me exchange arguments. "What do you think I've been doing for the past two months? I don't mean to be insensitive-"
"That's exactly what you are!" Dad yelled at me. He just lost his temper as he slammed his palm against the table, startling everyone. The room went completely and utterly silent. "We lost two hundred million dollars since that video spread like wildfire all over the internet. I still accepted your apology, son, because you're good at what you do, but last night was unacceptable. People start boycotting the company like we're a sore loser supporting a heinous crime. I can't do this anymore."
"Dad-"
"No." He only raised a finger, and I knew I was doomed. "The vote is unanimous."
"You voted against me while I'm not even around?" My eyes narrowed at him. I didn't have to look at the board because I knew without a doubt that they trusted my father more than me.
"Yes. I'm the chairman of this company. I still outrank you." He leaned back. "Here's what you will do, son."
"Or what, Dad?" My tone was a challenge. I instantly noticed how his back stiffened. "You'll fire me? Go ahead, and I will start my own business." That was the initial plan, but why would I do that when I worked hard for years to keep this company on top?
"You can quit, but then with your public image right now, I don't think there are investors out there who would risk their money and trust you." Of course, he knew. He looked at everyone. "Thank you for coming."
I waited until everyone was gone before I took a seat away from him. "I did everything as you told me to, Dad. You know that."
"You should have toned down your partying like there was no tomorrow." I felt like he just berated a six-year-old me. He wasn't even aware I attended the Kross Charity Foundation last month and another charity event before the so-called party.
The door swung open a minute later, and my heart started to beat wildly because I had a strong feeling I was not going to like whatever plans my father had for me.
A beautiful, sophisticated woman in her forties stood beside my father. She didn't have to introduce herself because I knew her.
"I'm Vysper Rowe."
"Crisis management specialist. I know who you are," I said nonchalantly. "So how can you help me, Ms. Rowe?"
"I hired her two months ago. But since nothing is working for you, I have decided to lay the final option to repair your image, son. If it still doesn't work, maybe you have to step down as the CEO while you are still a major shareholder and a member of the board."
"Wow." I snorted. "So, it's like my life is planned before I'm even born. Great. Lay it on me, Dad." I gestured as I grabbed the bottled water and drank it. I needed more than water to calm me, and I knew I needed something stronger for the next thing he had to say.
Dad didn't like my tone, but I was more pissed at him for planning my future behind my back.
"You're getting married."
The water almost dislodged into the wrong pipe. I coughed as I stared at my father in utter shock. "Excuse me?"
"That's the only way to help this issue die down, Madden. For you to settle down."
I stood up and laughed out loud, mocking my father's plan. When he glared further, and Vysper did nothing but stare at me, I leaned my palm against the table, shaking my head. "No fucking way."
"You give up your position or a public image rehab, Madden."
"That's a little bit extreme, Dad. I did as you asked me to, hiding from the public eye, but marriage? How does it even help my image? How can you convince people to believe it's not a charade?" I stole a glance at Vysper. She may be good at crisis management, but she would also do anything for money.
"The two-month phase was only the first step, Mr. Shanewood," Vysper said confidently. "The second step would be your engagement announcement, if you didn't go to the club last night." That was exactly what I was talking about. One rotten tomato blah blah blah. It didn't matter if I did something good.
"Extreme? We lost another hundred million dollars since that tabloid came out this morning." He pointed at the newspapers on the table. The board and our investors are losing patience. I took care of your image, but it wasn't enough. So you either step down as the CEO or do as I say."
"And who will take over? My COO?"
"No. I can run the company without being publicly scrutinized like you are."
"We already have a story plan ahead that you met someone during your travel. Then you will propose and get married in a very intimate ceremony. Then all you have to do is convince the people that you two are in love."
I rolled my eyes at Vysper. At the same time, my mind went back to those stunning sapphire eyes. If she's the girl, maybe I'll consider.
"Easy for you to say. You're not going to be with a woman you're not in love with."
"Then you should have kept your junk in your pants," Dad said to me as she gestured at Vysper. "Show him."
"Show me what?" My gaze bounced between him and Vysper.
"Give it to him, Vaughn," Vysper told her assistant.
The Asian guy placed a black folder on the table before me.
"What's this?" I asked and opened it, revealing the pre-approved list of women who were chosen for me. "You've got to be kidding me."
"These are the candidates suitable to be your wife," Vysper said casually, like I was just choosing a suit to wear for a gala, not a woman to carry my family name and bear my heir. "An ordinary citizen, beautiful, single, and without criminal records. You can't marry a celebrity or a popular person like you."
I stared at her in disgust. "What made you think these women would agree to marry me? How will I convince one of them? Don't they have their own lives to enjoy?"
My father did not say a word. Instead, Vysper replied, "We will pay one of them a huge amount of money."
"Fascinating." I spread at least six profiles before me. "Should I just say eeny, meeny, miny, moe?" I was beyond furious that I had to pick from one of these women and ruin her life in the end.
"Read their qualifications," my father said.
"You don't even know my type." I snorted.
"You like tall, beautiful women, son. You don't have to love her. This contract marriage will only last for two to three years."
"Great plan, can't go wrong." With a lack of interest, I just picked one. "Here. Let me ruin another life. Congratulations." I stood up, buttoned my suit, and walked out.
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9.1
With only fifteen days of cash flow left to save her tech startup, Aida had no choice but to seek a five-million-dollar bridge loan from Brendan Walls, a ruthless billionaire predator.
He agreed to sign the check, but on one sickening condition. He demanded Aida act as bait to get close to his corporate rival, Grayson Lott, treating her like a high-end call girl for a business transaction.
Forced to comply to save her employees, Aida let Grayson take her to a windowless underground club, where he secretly spiked her whiskey.
As the drugs paralyzed her body, triggering horrific flashbacks of a brutal assault from six years ago, Aida locked herself in the bathroom. She had to shatter a mirror and slice her own thigh open with a jagged shard of glass just to stay conscious enough to call Brendan for help.
Brendan's armored SUV immediately smashed through the club's wall to save her, and Grayson was arrested. But lying in the hospital, the horrifying truth finally clicked in Aida's mind.
The rescue was too fast. Brendan’s men hadn't rushed from Midtown; they had been parked outside the entire time. He had watched Grayson drug her and waited for the felony to happen just so he could legally seize Grayson's company. He had gambled her life and trauma for a hostile takeover.
When Brendan casually tossed a signed contract and luxury car keys onto her hospital bed as hush money, the last thread of Aida's sanity snapped.
"The deal is dead. NovaTech is mine. If you ever come near me again, I will kill you."
Bleeding and shaking with icy rage, Aida threw the keys at his chest, formally declaring war on the monster who thought he could buy her soul.
8.9
My father was marrying a gold-digger, the mother of my cheating ex-boyfriend.
To end the charade, I crashed their luxury wedding with a ten-foot funeral wreath.
In front of hundreds of elites, my father slapped me across the face, calling me a vicious bitch while his new wife smiled in victory.
I triggered the estate's fire system to ruin them, but a terrifying stranger in the VIP section bypassed my military-grade hack in seconds.
He was Kavon Velasquez, a dangerous billionaire heir who had been missing for twelve years.
Instead of exposing me, he shielded me from my father's second blow.
When my pathetic ex tried to drag me away, I grabbed Kavon and kissed him to humiliate my ex.
I shoved a $500,000 check into Kavon's pocket as hush money and left.
I thought that was the end of it.
But why did this apex predator move into the penthouse right next to mine at 2 AM?
Why did he violently crush my ex's face the next morning just for grabbing my arm?
"She is my woman. If you ever come within ten feet of her again, I will bury you."
I didn't understand why a man with lethal skills was suddenly hunting me.
Then I found out he had just blackmailed my father with undeniable proof of corporate money laundering.
His demand wasn't money. It was me.
He ordered my father to announce our engagement by tomorrow sunset, and this dangerous game officially began.
8.4
Everly spent four years playing the perfect, accommodating wife to Carson Moss, swallowing every grievance just to secure medical treatments for their sick daughter.
But at a high-society banquet she exhausted herself organizing, Carson's pregnant mistress crashed the party.
The woman shoved an ultrasound of Carson's "real heir" directly into Everly's frail grandfather's face.
The shock triggered a massive heart attack.
Carson refused to use his private helicopter to save the dying old man, choosing to protect his mistress and his company's IPO instead. Her grandfather died on the hospital table.
Instead of remorse, her mother-in-law demanded Everly publicly cover up the murder.
"You will do exactly as I say, or I will freeze every single cent of the medical trust fund paying for your crippled daughter's treatments."
When a battered Everly returned to the estate, she discovered her three-year-old daughter covered in dark bruises and pinch marks. Her in-laws were deliberately torturing her disabled child.
Everly couldn't comprehend how a family could be so utterly heartless. Her only family was murdered, her child was abused, and her husband threw a five-million-dollar check at her face as hush money.
They thought she would just break and quietly disappear.
But when a terrifyingly powerful billionaire unexpectedly blocked Carson's security team from locking her up, Everly finally saw her window.
She grabbed her sleeping daughter and ran out into the freezing storm, making a blood-bound vow to make the entire Moss family bleed.
9.3
For years, Gabriela believed the man beside her would be the one she grew old with. They had loved each other since they were young, but in the end, all those years meant nothing beside a younger woman's smile.
Returning from a business trip, she uncovered his betrayal with brutal clarity. Still, she did not cry or beg. She took out her phone, recorded every damning second, and filed for divorce the moment she could.
Afterward, she rebuilt her life into something brighter, richer, and stronger, even marrying a powerful tycoon. As for her ex and his shameless mistress, they could rot together.
9.5
Bridget left the office early on her anniversary, her pocket heavy with a custom velvet ring box meant for her fiancé.
But when she pushed open the bedroom door, she found him tangled in their bed with her best friend, Chloe.
"Bridget! Wait, it's not what it looks like!" Jacob stammered, his eyes wide with panic.
"Evidence," Bridget stated coldly, snapping a photo of their naked bodies before fleeing into the freezing New York night.
Desperate to numb the betrayal, she got blackout drunk at an underground lounge and threw herself at a dark, terrifyingly handsome stranger.
She woke up in a penthouse suite alone, finding only a limitless black credit card left on the nightstand.
Humiliated and feeling like a cheap escort, she ran away, swearing to forget the nightmare.
But the nightmare had just begun. When she rushed into the office, she discovered the stranger was Jevon Rocha—the ruthless billionaire CEO of her company.
He didn't fire her. Instead, he trapped her in a twisted, obsessive power game, forcing her into his private life and demanding she report to his penthouse.
Bridget couldn't understand why a ruthless billionaire was so dangerously fixated on a low-level employee.
Until she stumbled upon his secret social media account and saw a crayon drawing of a little kid, captioned with a single word: "Finally."
A wave of absolute horror washed over her. He wasn't just playing games; he was hiding a secret child and a messy, high-stakes family drama.
She refused to be the naive collateral damage in a billionaire's twisted life.
Trembling, Bridget hit "Block" on his profile, determined to escape his dangerous web.
8.6
Eleanor Sinclair always knew her stepmother and stepsister were leeches, but she never expected their betrayal to reach into her private study.
In the dead of night, she caught the family's trusted nanny of twelve years photographing confidential trust documents. The mastermind paying her off was Lillian, Eleanor's stepmother, who had been secretly embezzling estate funds and bribing tutors to deliberately ruin the academic future of Eleanor's younger brother, the only legitimate heir.
Emboldened by their deceit, the parasites grew arrogant. Her stepsister, Isabelle, deliberately flaunted her secret affair with Eleanor’s billionaire fiancé, sobbing fake tears while waiting for Eleanor to suffer a humiliating nervous breakdown.
When the tension finally peaked, Lillian played the victim so perfectly that Eleanor's own father, a powerful U.S. Senator, stormed into the room with a raised hand, ready to strike his own daughter.
"You will apologize to your stepsister immediately! I will not have this family harmony destroyed by your petty jealousy!"
They actually expected her to be a weeping, heartbroken girl. They thought cheap hotel affairs and stolen pennies could outsmart the true Sinclair bloodline. Did they really believe a few fake tears and a weak-willed father could strip her of her empire?
Eleanor didn't feel anger; she felt the cold, detached fascination of a biologist observing doomed insects. She calmly pulled out the forensic audits, locked down the estate's exits, and prepared her stepmother's psychiatric commitment papers. The merciless purge of her family had officially begun.