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 6
The wrought-iron gates of the elite academy towered over them, flanked by stone pillars and a pristine security booth.
Dasia stopped on the sidewalk. She pulled her hand away from Landon's shoulder and shoved it deep into her hoodie pocket. She tilted her chin toward the entrance.
"Go," she said simply.
Landon opened his mouth to thank her, but a loud burst of laughter interrupted him.
Five boys wearing tailored blazers strolled out of the campus gates, blocking the sidewalk.
Dasia's eyes swept over them lazily, but then her gaze locked onto the boy in the center. Her pupils contracted to pinpricks.
Declan Hayes.
He was the substitute player for Glory. The one who had orchestrated the trap in the game that ruined Gerald's reputation. The one who smiled while Gerald's hand was crushed.
The blood in Dasia's veins turned to liquid fire. Her heart slammed against her ribs, but she clamped her jaw shut, forcing the murderous rage down into the pit of her stomach. Her face remained a mask of dead calm.
Declan stopped laughing. He stared at Dasia, his eyes widening in recognition. Then, a nasty, arrogant smirk spread across his face.
He pushed past his friends and strutted right up to Dasia, looking her up and down with exaggerated disgust.
"Well, well, well," Declan announced, his voice loud enough to draw stares from passing students. "If it isn't Gerald. The useless dog who got kicked out of Glory."
Landon gasped. He shrank behind Dasia's legs, terrified by the sudden malice.
Dasia stood perfectly still. She didn't blink. She didn't breathe faster. She just stared at Declan like he was a corpse.
Declan hated that look. He expected Gerald to cower, to look away in shame like he always did.
Declan raised his hand and aggressively poked Dasia's shoulder. "What's the matter? Hand too crippled to play, so now you're babysitting rich kids for lunch money?"
The second Declan's finger touched her hoodie, Dasia moved.
Her left hand snapped up faster than a striking snake. She grabbed Declan's extended index finger and bent it backward with brutal force.
A sickening pop echoed in the quiet street.
Declan shrieked. His knees buckled from the blinding pain, dropping him toward the pavement.
Dasia didn't let him fall. Her right hand shot out and grabbed the knot of his expensive silk tie. She yanked upward, lifting him off his feet.
With a violent shove, she slammed Declan's back against the rough brick wall of the gate pillar. The impact knocked the wind out of his lungs with a heavy thud.
Declan's friends yelled and stepped forward to help.
Dasia slowly turned her head. She shot them a look so dark, so filled with pure, unhinged violence, that all four boys froze in their tracks.
She turned back to Declan. She leaned in close. The shadow of her hood fell over his face.
"Touch me again," Dasia whispered, her voice a raspy, demonic scrape, "and I will break every single finger on your hand."
Declan stared into her pitch-black eyes. He couldn't breathe. The tie was strangling him, but the sheer terror paralyzing his heart was worse. This wasn't the weak, compromising Gerald he knew. This was a monster.
Dasia released his tie. She wiped her fingers on her jeans, her face twisting with revulsion.
Declan slid down the brick wall, coughing violently and clutching his throat.
A crowd of students had gathered. Smartphones were out, camera flashes blinking as they recorded the aftermath.
Dasia ignored the cameras. She looked down at Landon, her voice instantly returning to a calm, flat tone. "Let's go find your brother."
Landon swallowed hard. He nodded frantically, grabbed the edge of her hoodie, and pulled her through the gates.
Behind them, Declan finally caught his breath. Humiliated and furious, he screamed at her retreating back.
"You think you're tough? !" Declan roared. "You're just a pathetic loser! What, did you come here to beg one of our rich students for a handout because Glory kicked you to the curb, you disgusting creep? !"
Dasia's boots paused for a fraction of a second at the name "King."
She didn't turn around. She pulled her hood down lower and walked deeper into the enemy territory.
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7.2
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Reborn, Sarah returns with one goal-revenge.
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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.
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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.
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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.