The Disguised Girl: Captivating The Billionaire King
Dasia's twin brother, Gerald, was an e-sports prodigy, the rising star of the Glory team.
But during a crucial moment, he was framed by his own teammates. They orchestrated a trap that completely destroyed his reputation and left his right hand brutally crushed.
Instead of getting him medical help, the club threw him out into the freezing rain, bleeding and disgraced. The manager labeled him useless trash and slapped him with a five-million-dollar termination fee to bleed him dry. Stripped of his pro status, the wealthy bullies at his prep school relentlessly targeted him, mocking his crippled hand and beating him down.
Dasia watched her twin brother cry in his room, his life and dreams shattered by the people he trusted. A violent, suffocating rage boiled in her chest. How could they smile while crushing his hand? Why should the victim be treated like a rotting piece of garbage while the perpetrators get rich and celebrated?
She didn't shed a single tear. She stood in front of the mirror, took a pair of scissors, and ruthlessly hacked off her waist-length hair. She wrapped her chest in coarse medical bandages until her ribs screamed, and pulled on his oversized black hoodie.
"Everything you took from him, I am going to take back with interest."
The girl in the mirror was gone. She was Gerald now. She secretly passed the brutal online tryouts for Glory's biggest rival, the elite Blackflame team, and signed their official contract. The revenge had officially begun.
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Chapter 2
The silent challenge in Dasia's eyes made Carlton freeze. The muscles in his jaw tightened.
Before he could speak, his personal assistant, Alex Vance, shoved past the bodyguards. Alex threw his arms out, shielding Carlton like Dasia was holding a loaded gun.
"Are you out of your mind?" Alex barked, pointing a manicured finger at Dasia's face. "You do not touch him. I will have you sued for harassment so fast your head will spin."
Felix scrambled forward, his face pale and slick with sweat. He grabbed Dasia's wrist with trembling fingers.
"Apologize!" Felix hissed, his voice cracking. "Get on your knees and apologize right now before you ruin us both!"
Dasia's stomach twisted with revulsion at the physical contact. She ripped her arm out of Felix's grip. The violent motion sent Felix stumbling backward.
She turned her gaze to Alex.
"Get lost," Dasia said.
Her voice was low, raspy, and completely devoid of emotion. The single word sliced through the noise of the station.
The fans went feral. A neon green glow stick flew over the security line and slammed into Dasia's shoulder blade. It bounced off with a dull thud.
Dasia didn't blink. She didn't even rub her shoulder.
Carlton watched her. His blue eyes narrowed. The boy's spine was perfectly straight. There was no trembling, no frantic apologies. Just a cold, dead stare.
Alex's face turned purple. He waved frantically at the station security guards standing nearby.
"Get this psycho out of here!" Alex yelled.
Three massive security guards pushed through the crowd. They unclipped their radios, forming a tight circle around Dasia and Felix.
Felix dropped to a crouch, burying his face in his hands. He was hyperventilating.
One of the guards reached out a thick hand to grab Dasia's shoulder.
Dasia's eyes went pitch black. Her left foot slid back half an inch against the tile. Her weight shifted. Her muscles coiled tight, preparing to snap the guard's wrist the second he made contact.
"Stop."
The word was spoken quietly, but it carried absolute authority.
Carlton raised one hand. His long index finger twitched in the air.
Alex immediately grabbed the security guard's arm, pulling him back. The guards stepped away, waiting for the billionaire captain's orders.
Carlton took a slow step forward. His leather shoes clicked sharply against the tile. He stopped less than two feet from Dasia.
The sheer physical presence of the man was overwhelming. Dasia had to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact. The scent of mint and cedar grew stronger, suffocating her.
Carlton leaned down slightly. He studied the dark, violent eyes glaring back at him over the black mask.
"Whoever paid you to put on this little show," Carlton said, his voice a low, mocking rumble, "tell them your acting is pathetic."
A tiny, humorless laugh escaped Dasia's throat.
She raised her right hand. She pressed her index finger directly against the center of Carlton's chest, right on the expensive fabric of his coat.
She shoved. Hard.
Carlton hadn't expected the strike. His body rocked backward on his heels. A flash of pure shock widened his eyes.
"Keep your dogs on a leash," Dasia said. Her voice was like crushed ice. "Before they bite the wrong person."
The entire station went dead silent. Alex stopped breathing.
Carlton looked down at his chest, then back up at Dasia. A dark, dangerous smile slowly curved his lips.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a vintage silver Zippo lighter. His thumb flicked the lid open. Clink. He snapped it shut. Clink.
The metallic sound was sharp and rhythmic.
He opened his mouth to speak, but the station intercom crackled to life. A loud voice announced the final boarding call for the express train to Boston.
Alex checked his watch, panic replacing his anger. "King, we have to go. Now. Don't waste time on this trash."
Carlton's thumb rested on the lighter. He stared at Dasia for three long seconds, burning her eyes into his memory.
He turned around without another word. The bodyguards formed a wedge, and the Blackflame team disappeared down the VIP corridor.
The crowd slowly dispersed, muttering insults. Felix collapsed onto a wooden bench, gasping for air like a dying fish.
Dasia adjusted the collar of her hoodie. She looked down at the floor.
A glossy poster of Carlton Gordon lay on the dirty tiles, dropped by a fleeing fan. Dasia stared at his arrogant, printed face.
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7.2
Betrayed by her sister. Killed by her husband.
Reborn, Sarah returns with one goal-revenge.
This time, she won't be the fool.
And with the Knox, the most dangerous man by her side...
she'll ruin them all, and take back everything that belongs to her.
Promotional line: They killed me once. This time, I'll destroy them first.
7.9
After her twin brother's unexplained death at Alpha Academy, Alexandria Hyde takes his place and his name to uncover the truth. Now living as "Alex," she's thrown into a world of hot, testosterone-fueled Alphas who fight to the brink of death... and she has to survive it while hiding who she really is.
But staying hidden isn't easy–
Not when the Alphas start noticing her.
Not when the truth she's chasing might destroy her first.
And definitely not when they start fighting for her instead.
8.9
Seventeen-year-old Nina Storm has spent her life running from her tragic past, her dormant wolf, and the dreams of a mysterious man she can't escape.
Raised by her protective father after her mother's death, she has never stayed in one place long enough to call it home. But everything changed when they return to their home, the Moonlight Pack.
Nina discovers that her mate is Zane, the pack's Alpha... a bond that defies werewolf laws and the pack's expectations. Their undeniable attraction is dangerous, and their bond threatens to disrupt the fragile balance of power within the pack.
When an attack on the pack shatters her world, Nina loses everything, including her life. But death isn't the end.
Reborn, her dormant wolf awakens giving her a newfound strength and powers, Nina must navigate a world of betrayal, love, and vengeance as she unravels the truth about her family, her mate bond, and the danger threatening to destroy everything she holds dear.
8.3
My husband watched as my skin melted, scalded by boiling soup, yet his hands were busy comforting my attacker. Five years of marriage, built on a foundation of my family's power, crumbled with a single, brutal act of betrayal. He bought me off with a penthouse and a trust fund, but I tore out my IV and threw his charity back in his face.
It was our fifth anniversary, but my husband, Ethan, remained distant, avoiding any talk of Chicago or the mafia protection my family once offered him. He then pushed a black velvet box across the table.
Inside was a Separation and Property Division Agreement, not a diamond. He told me to sign for Ilene's security, offering millions. When I refused, Ilene hurled boiling soup. Ethan shielded her, not me, as the scalding liquid melted my dress.
With second-degree burns, he blamed me, ordering me from our home for Ilene’s comfort. My family saved him, yet he sacrificed my body and marriage for another woman.
The love I felt turned to ash. What kind of debt demanded my flesh and marriage?
I ripped the IV from my arm, hurling his "charity" keys back. My diamond ring placed on the agreement, I walked away. From today on, Ethan, you and I are dead to each other.
9.2
Clara was drowning in student debt and barely making rent when she downloaded a fantasy mobile game to escape reality.
Inside the game, an exiled prince named Alex was freezing to death. Pitying him, she spent her last few dollars on microtransactions to fix his shelter and cure his poison.
But the game was far too real.
Every time she paid, the prince reacted. When she complained aloud about going broke, the in-game army suddenly halted, as if the prince had heard her voice.
Then, the terrifying real-world consequences hit.
Clara woke up to find her water glass and a box of Kleenex had vanished from her locked bedroom overnight.
She frantically searched the tiny apartment, her heart pounding in her chest.
She thought she was losing her mind. Had she thrown them out in her sleep? Was there a stalker hiding in her home?
How could physical objects just disappear into thin air behind a deadbolted door?
Until she looked at her nightstand.
Sitting exactly where her missing items used to be was a glowing, weightless crystal cup that defied all logic.
And on her laptop screen, the exiled prince was carefully holding her Kleenex box, offering a mountain of real gold on an altar.
She hadn't just downloaded a mobile game; she had opened a cross-dimensional trade route with a desperate future king.
9.1
He postponed putting my name on the deed 18 times.
Each time, his mentee Ciera had an “emergency.” Each time, he ran to her.
I watched him give her his prized Montblanc pen—the one he wouldn’t even let me borrow. I saw her post their late nights on Instagram. I ate anniversary dinners alone while he “mentored” her.
Then he bought me a necklace—identical to the one she just flaunted online.
That was when I stopped feeling anything.
I didn’t cry. I didn’t fight. I simply packed two suitcases, resigned from our firm, and booked a one-way ticket to London.
He thinks I’m coming back in a week.
He has no idea I’m gone for good.
Nineteen broken promises. One silent goodbye. And a new life waiting across the ocean.