The Disowned Heiress And Her Billionaire Protector
I was the rightful heir to the Valenzuela estate, but my aunt and cousin treated me worse than a stray dog.
On a freezing rainy night, they forged documents to strip me of my trust fund and violently ordered their bodyguards to throw me out.
My cousin snatched the rosewood urn containing my mother's ashes. She smashed it onto the marble floor and maliciously ground the white powder under her stiletto heel.
When Aidan, the elderly butler who had protected me since I was a baby, tried to shield me from their assassins in the storm, he was stabbed in the back.
His hot blood poured over my hands as he died in the muddy puddle, while my aunt's men laughed and raised their blades to finish me off.
They thought I was just a nameless orphan they could easily erase.
The next day, they went to the press, branding me a degenerate thief who ran away, happily preparing to parade around at my grandfather's charity gala using my stolen wealth.
But they didn't know I was rescued from the rain by the most ruthless billionaire in New York, a man willing to burn the city down to protect me.
Staring at my pale reflection in the penthouse mirror, I took a pair of heavy silver scissors and chopped off my long hair.
"From today on, the weak girl is dead. I am Evelena Valenzuela, and I am going to make them bleed for every single thing they took."
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Chapter 9
The afternoon sun beat down on the outdoor dirt arena of the school's equestrian club. The air smelled of dust and horses. Evelena wore dark, fitted riding pants and tall leather boots. She walked toward the stables.
She reached for the metal latch of the stall holding the calm thoroughbred she usually rode.
Kenzie stepped out from behind the wooden posts. Brandi and three large boys from the football team followed her. They formed a wall, blocking the stall door.
Kenzie held a black leather riding crop decorated with fake diamonds. She tapped it against her leg. She laughed and told Evelena she should be riding her sugar daddy's lap, not a horse.
The boys laughed loudly. Other students in the arena stopped brushing their horses and turned to watch.
Evelena stared at Kenzie's face. Her expression did not change. She said, "Move," and tried to step around them.
Brandi suddenly stuck her heavy riding boot out, aiming to trip Evelena face-first into the dirt.
Evelena saw the movement. She did not try to step over it. Instead, she brought her own hard leather heel down violently, stomping directly onto the bridge of Brandi's foot.
Brandi let out a sound like a dying animal. She collapsed into the dirt, grabbing her foot and screaming in agony.
Kenzie lost her mind. She raised the heavy leather riding crop high above her head. She swung it down with all her strength, aiming directly for Evelena's face.
The whip cut through the air with a sharp whistling sound.
Evelena's eyes narrowed. She did not flinch back. She threw her left arm up, taking the brutal hit directly on her forearm.
The leather cracked against her sleeve. A line of pure fire burned across Evelena's skin.
The pain did not make her weak. It made her vicious. Before Kenzie could pull the whip back, Evelena's right hand shot out and grabbed the end of the leather tightly.
Kenzie yanked hard, trying to free it. Evelena planted her feet. She did not move an inch.
Evelena pulled the whip toward herself with a violent jerk. Kenzie lost her balance and stumbled forward in her boots.
As Kenzie fell forward, Evelena did not attempt a martial arts kick she hadn't been trained for. Instead, she used Kenzie's own momentum against her. Evelena stepped to the side, grabbed the collar of Kenzie's riding jacket with both hands, and shoved her violently downward with all her body weight. Kenzie lost her footing entirely. She stumbled wildly and crashed hard, face-first, into the muddy dirt of the arena.
The entire club went dead silent. No one moved. They stared in absolute shock at the quiet girl who just kicked the board member's daughter into the mud.
Kenzie rolled on the ground, gagging for air. Her perfect makeup was smeared with wet dirt.
She screamed hysterically. She ordered the three boys to grab Evelena and hold her down.
The boys hesitated, but they outnumbered her. They spread out and walked toward Evelena, cracking their knuckles.
Evelena did not back down. She reached over to a bale of hay and grabbed a heavy, rusted iron pitchfork. She held it across her chest like a weapon. Her eyes looked like a cornered wolf.
She smiled a cold, crazy smile. She told them the first person to step forward was getting iron spikes through their throat.
The boys stopped dead. The murderous intent radiating from her body was real. They believed her.
Suddenly, Milton Yardley, the Dean of Students, came sprinting across the dirt. He was sweating heavily.
He saw Kenzie in the mud. His face turned pale with terror. Kenzie's father funded his salary.
Milton turned to Evelena. His face turned purple with rage. He screamed that she was a violent psychopath.
He pointed a shaking finger at her and ordered the two campus security guards running behind him to arrest her immediately. He screamed that she was expelled.
The two large guards rushed forward. They grabbed Evelena's arms, twisting them painfully behind her back. They ripped the pitchfork out of her hands.
Kenzie struggled to her feet. Brandi helped her stand. Kenzie walked over to where the guards were holding Evelena. She raised her hand and slapped Evelena across the face as hard as she could.
Evelena's head snapped to the side. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth. But when she looked back at Kenzie, her eyes were completely unbroken.
Milton ordered the guards to drag her to the holding office.
Before they could take a step, a deafening roar shook the ground.
A massive, matte-black AgustaWestland AW139 heavy helicopter dropped out of the sky. It hovered directly over the equestrian arena.
The violent wind from the rotors kicked up a massive cloud of dust, blinding everyone and forcing them to cover their faces.
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9.3
Elara Voss never imagined that a single mistake could turn her life upside down. A brilliant marketing strategist with ambition as sharp as her wit, she thrives on control, until the day she crashes her rival's luxurious wedding, causing a scandal that will haunt her in high society.
Enter Dante Cross: the notorious billionaire, charmingly arrogant, and impossibly handsome, the bride's brother. In a moment of impulsive defiance, he proposes an outrageous solution to save face: a marriage neither of them wants... but both are forced to accept.
Thrown together in a world of glitz, power, and unspoken secrets, Elara and Dante clash at every turn. Sparks ignite as pride battles attraction, and the closer they get, the more dangerous their connection becomes. With hidden rivalries, family secrets, and unexpected betrayals swirling around them, Elara must navigate a game of social intrigue and decide if love is worth risking everything.
Will their forced union survive the chaos, or will the very secrets that brought them together tear them apart forever?
7.4
For five years, Jodi was the perfect, compliant secret lover to billionaire CEO Armand Taylor.
Then, she woke up to a cold email and a seven-figure wire transfer. Armand was marrying European royalty. The money was a severance package to quietly warehouse her out of sight.
Refusing to be his dirty secret, Jodi invoked her contract's termination clause to leave for good. But Armand wouldn't let her go easily. He forced her to personally train her vicious new replacement, Selah.
Selah immediately tampered with a crucial financial file, framing Jodi for sabotaging Taylor Corp's multi-billion-dollar tech acquisition.
Without a second thought, Armand took the new girl's side. He cornered Jodi in the boardroom, his eyes dead and cold.
"You have three days to fix this. If you fail, I will personally see to it that you go to prison for corporate fraud."
He froze her bank accounts and stripped away her dignity, ready to destroy her life over a blatant lie.
He thought she was just a weak, discarded toy who would break under his threats.
What Armand didn't know was the terrifying secret Jodi had just discovered hidden at the bottom of her bathroom trash can.
Three positive pregnancy tests.
If the ruthless billionaire found out she was carrying his heir, he would never let her escape.
Wiping her tears, Jodi slipped into a severe black silk gown and crashed an exclusive Hamptons gala to intercept the tech CEO herself.
This time, she wasn't playing the obedient lover. She was going to clear her name and burn Armand's empire to the ground.
7.5
I am the biological daughter of the wealthy Fitzpatrick family, but I spent my childhood eating out of dumpsters.
When I was finally brought back to the estate at age seven, I thought I would experience my parents' love.
Instead, my biological parents looked at my dirty clothes with raw disgust. They only cared about Hallie, the fake daughter who lived like a princess.
The moment I walked in, Hallie hurled a heavy ceramic cup at my head, slicing my hand open.
"Get out of my house!"
My father didn't even look at the blood. He raised his hand to strike me, accusing me of bringing trailer park rules into his home.
In my past life, I dropped to my knees and begged for their forgiveness. I endured their abuse, hoping they would eventually love me.
But they let the maids humiliate me, let Hallie steal my identity, and eventually threw me back onto the streets to die. Even my playboy Uncle Byron, the only person who ever showed me mercy, was driven to suicide by them.
I didn't understand why my own flesh and blood hated me so much, or why a vicious liar deserved everything while I was treated like a jinx.
Opening my eyes again, I was back on the exact day I first returned to the estate.
As my father raised his hand to hit me, I didn't cower.
Instead, I looked at the family patriarch and pointed directly at my notorious, alcoholic uncle.
"I want him to be my new guardian."
7.9
In my past life, I was the naive surrogate who fell desperately in love with Karson King, an untouchable Wall Street billionaire.
I thought my blind devotion would earn me a place in his family. Instead, his cruel mother forced me to sign away my parental rights to my three-year-old daughter.
I was locked in a dark, freezing basement. I watched helplessly as his arrogant relatives tormented my child, pushing her down a flight of marble stairs and shattering her tiny arm.
When we finally died in a horrific car crash, my face covered in blood amidst the shattered glass, Karson didn't shed a single tear. To him, my death was just the convenient erasure of a cheap mistake.
I sacrificed my dignity for his approval, but they treated us worse than stray dogs. Why did my innocent daughter have to pay the ultimate price for their ruthless arrogance?
Opening my eyes again, the harsh glare of a massive crystal chandelier pierced my vision. I was back in the grand foyer of the King estate, exactly five years ago.
"Sign it. You are nothing but a gold digger."
My soon-to-be mother-in-law slammed the thick legal contract onto the marble table, demanding I give up my daughter.
This time, the paralyzing fear evaporated, replaced by absolute, icy clarity.
I didn't cower. I picked up the pen, looked right at the billionaire who despised me, and prepared to manipulate his entire empire.
7.1
For six years, I was the perfect, obedient wife to billionaire Hartwell Ware, enduring his coldness because I thought my love could eventually thaw his heart.
Then, my friend sent me a photo. Hartwell was at the airport, tenderly holding the waist of his first love, Eveline Craig.
He came home smelling of her synthetic rose perfume, accused me of stalking him, and coldly demanded a divorce.
His lawyer handed me a thick settlement agreement. It offered astronomical alimony and luxury properties, but it came with a humiliating ten-page non-disclosure agreement.
He wanted to buy my silence. He wanted to strip me of my rights to our son and gag me permanently, just so he could parade his new life with Eveline without any PR backlash.
Even now, he still thought I was a gold digger who had orchestrated a media scandal to trap him into marriage.
I stared at the man I had worshipped for two thousand days. My six years of desperate devotion had been nothing but a humiliating, one-sided delusion.
Hope was finally dead, and with it, my tears had completely dried up.
He expected me to cry, to beg, to negotiate for more millions.
Instead, I snatched the pen, crossed out the massive alimony, and signed my name on the dotted line.
"I am taking the basic child support, and not a single red cent more."
Leaving my five-carat diamond ring on the marble table, I walked out the door with nothing but my old suitcase.
9.1
For two years, Elena played the role of the perfect, submissive wife to her wealthy husband, Andrew Macdonald, quietly swallowing the daily insults of his elite circle to appease his family.
But using her hidden divination skills, she tracked his GPS to a dirty nightclub terrace and caught him tightly holding a fragile, crying woman, calling Elena a disposable "Appalachian hillbilly."
"The lawyers are drafting the divorce papers. Next week, she'll be out of New York for good."
Hearing Andrew promise this gently to his cheating partner, Elena stepped into the dim light, only to be met with nasty mockery from his arrogant friends, while the mistress shrank back and pretended to be an innocent victim.
Andrew glared at Elena with deep annoyance, aggressively demanding she stop embarrassing him in public and go back to the countryside, fully expecting her to break down, cry, and beg him to save their marriage.
Two years of cooking his meals, ironing his shirts, and enduring his family's cruel abuse were nothing but a sick joke to him, completely blind to the terrifying, ancient power she actually wielded.
Instead of shedding a single tear, Elena mercilessly exposed their darkest medical and financial secrets, signed the divorce papers without taking a single dime, and stepped into her new life as the untouchable master she truly was.