The Fake Heiress Cancels Her Engagement
I woke up in a luxurious private medical room, only to be hit with a crushing realization.
I had transmigrated into a novel as the fake heiress of the McConnell family, destined to be the ultimate villain.
In the original plot, I viciously bullied the real daughter who grew up in a trailer park, and tortured my adopted brother by using him as a living blood bank.
When the truth came out, my fiancé abandoned me, my family threw me away, and the brother I tormented eventually left me to bleed to death in a dark alley.
Right now, the timeline had just reached the deadly turning point.
The real heiress had been brought home, wearing faded rags and mercilessly mocked by our relatives.
My vicious cousin had secretly handed me corrosive acid disguised as expensive skincare, hoping I would melt my own face off.
Worse, an anonymously leaked audio of me admitting my fake identity had just gone viral, causing a massive corporate scandal.
My elite fiancé immediately marched into the penthouse with his lawyers, throwing the cancellation documents on the glass table.
"The Vance family does not merge assets with a fraud. We don't marry fake bloodlines."
Everyone waited for me to break down, beg, and viciously attack the real daughter like a hysterical thief clinging to a stolen life.
They thought I would willingly walk right back into my predetermined, gruesome death.
Instead, I calmly pulled off the five-carat diamond ring, dropped it on the table, and turned to expose the cousin's trap to protect the real heiress.
This time, I am rewriting the script.
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Chapter 2
The frosted glass door of the medical room was shoved open with violent force.
Eleanor McConnell stormed in. Her immaculate, custom-tailored Chanel suit didn't have a single wrinkle, but her face was tight with panic.
Her eyes immediately found Diana standing barefoot on the cold marble.
"Diana!" Eleanor gasped, pressing a manicured hand to her chest.
She crossed the room in three quick strides, the heels of her Louboutins clicking sharply. She grabbed Diana's arms, her grip tight and frantic, trying to pull her away from the machines and back toward the bed.
"What are you doing out of bed? You have a concussion! That's reckless."
Dr. Evans immediately stepped forward, his posture rigid.
"Mrs. McConnell, the young miss seems to be suffering from post-traumatic confusion. She forcefully terminated the blood extraction protocol."
Eleanor stopped pulling. She turned her head slowly. Her perfectly arched eyebrows drew together in a sharp, dangerous line. She glared at the doctor.
Then, her gaze shifted to Jorden still strapped to the chair.
The look on Eleanor's face wasn't just anger. It was pure, unadulterated disgust. She looked at the boy the way one might look at a rat in a Michelin-star kitchen.
"If he is upsetting my daughter, remove him," Eleanor ordered, her voice like cracking ice. "Take this useless thing back to the basement. Now."
Two massive security guards in dark suits immediately pushed their way through the open doorway.
They didn't hesitate. They marched straight to the medical chair. One of them roughly unbuckled the thick leather straps binding Jorden's wrists.
The sudden release of pressure left a raw, angry red welt across the boy's pale skin. Jorden didn't make a sound. His jaw remained locked tight.
The guards grabbed Jorden by the upper arms. They hauled him up from the chair like a sack of dead weight. Jorden's legs, weak from the blood loss, dragged against the floor.
Diana's brain spun.
The novel. The basement. If they locked Jorden in that dark, freezing room now, his hatred would solidify. He would become the monster that eventually tore this family apart and left her bleeding out in an alley.
She couldn't let them take him.
Diana reached out. Her hand clamped down hard on Eleanor's wrist, right over the cold metal of her Cartier diamond watch.
"Mom."
Diana forced her voice to tremble. She bit the inside of her cheek hard enough to draw blood, letting the sharp pain force hot tears into her eyes.
"Mom, please. Don't put him in the basement."
Eleanor froze. She stared down at her adopted daughter, completely stunned. Diana was always the one demanding harsher punishments for the servants.
Diana let out a broken, ragged breath. She made her knees buckle slightly, forcing Eleanor to support her weight.
"The blood..." Diana whimpered, her fingers digging into Eleanor's expensive sleeve. "There was so much blood in the tube. I woke up and it was right there. It made me so dizzy. Dr. Evans wouldn't stop when I asked him to. He scared me."
She pointed a trembling finger at the doctor.
Dr. Evans's face drained of color. His mouth opened and closed like a fish.
"Mrs. McConnell, I assure you, it was standard procedure-"
Eleanor didn't let him finish. She spun on the doctor, her maternal panic instantly morphing into vicious rage.
"You terrified her!" Eleanor screamed, her voice echoing off the tile walls. "She just fell down a flight of stairs, and you subject her to a slaughterhouse display? Are you completely incompetent?"
Dr. Evans took a step back, raising his hands in defense. "Ma'am, the medical proxy states-"
"I don't care what the proxy states!" Eleanor snapped, smoothing the edge of her Chanel jacket with shaking hands.
Diana didn't give the doctor a chance to recover. She looked at Jorden, who was still suspended between the two massive guards.
"Let him go to the guest room on the south wing," Diana whispered, wiping a tear from her cheek. "I don't want to see anyone else get hurt today. Please, Mom. It will just give me nightmares."
The guards stopped moving. They looked at Eleanor, waiting for the final command.
Eleanor frowned. The south wing guest rooms were for actual humans, not biological assets. But she looked down at Diana's pale, tear-stained face and the bandage on her head.
Eleanor sighed, waving her hand dismissively at the guards. "Fine. Put him in the guest room. Just get him out of her sight."
The guards immediately let go.
Without their support, Jorden collapsed. His shoulder slammed hard against the metal doorframe with a sickening thud.
He slumped to the floor. His head bowed, his dark hair falling over his eyes.
But in that split second before he looked down, he quickly ducked his head, hiding his face behind his dark, unruly bangs and completely shielding whatever emotions flickered in his eyes.
When he slowly raised his head again, any hint of reaction was completely buried. He looked at Diana with the familiar, pathetic, trembling gaze of a broken victim, offering nothing but hollow submission.
Before Diana could process the shift, heavy footsteps pounded down the hallway.
The head butler appeared in the doorway, his usual composed face slick with sweat.
"Madam," the butler gasped, out of breath. "The police are downstairs in the lobby. And they brought agents from Child Protective Services."
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9.2
Averie spent hours preparing a perfect third-anniversary dinner for her billionaire husband, Jarett Sharp.
Instead of celebrating, she received an anonymous photo of him intimately holding another woman.
When Jarett finally arrived, he didn't even look guilty.
"Candida. It's okay. Don't be scared. I'm on my way."
He simply took a call from his mistress, shoved Averie aside, and walked right back out the door.
That same night, Averie's father suffered a massive heart attack.
The hospital demanded a half-million-dollar deposit before they would operate.
But when Averie frantically tried to use the emergency medical trust card Jarett had given her, it was declined.
Jarett had deliberately frozen her access to the funds just hours earlier.
While she begged his assistant on the phone, Jarett refused to be disturbed, busy wrapping his expensive coat around his mistress in the hospital garden.
Averie collapsed in the hallway, realizing the man she loved was deliberately letting her father die.
In the end, a childhood friend stepped in to pay the bill and save her father's life, while her billionaire husband later pinned her to their bed, throwing a check at her and reminding her he had bought her for three million dollars.
Averie didn't shed a single tear.
She slowly ripped his check into pieces, left her massive diamond ring on the dresser, and walked out into the cold New York night with nothing but her old suitcase.
She pulled out her phone and dialed her old ballet professor.
She wasn't just going to leave Jarett Sharp. She was going to destroy him.
7.9
Some cages are lined with silk. Some chains are dipped in gold. But they still hold you captive.
Nineteen-year-old Cassia Hale becomes the sixth bride of billionaire Killian Thorne, not out of love, but as payment for her father's gambling debts. One threat against her fifteen-year-old sister. One signature. And her life as she knew it is over.
Thrust into a mansion with five other wives, Cassia quickly learns she's different. Killian doesn't just want her, he's obsessed. She's the only one he intends to legally marry, the only one who can give him an heir, the only one who matters. But in a house where wives compete for survival and a mysterious fortune lies buried beneath the gardens, being the favorite makes her the biggest target.
Isla, the cunning queen bee, sees Cassia as an existential threat. Nessa, the jaded rebel, warns her to run while she can. Vera drowns in forbidden love with a servant. Mira watches everything with calculating eyes. And sweet, kind Thalia hides the most dangerous secrets of all.
When groundskeeper Dash offers Cassia escape and what seems like genuine love, she's torn between the monster who owns her and the man who might save her. But as drugged seductions, calculated betrayals, and murders disguised as accidents tear through the mansion, Cassia discovers the other wives aren't her only problem.
Someone is systematically eliminating the competition. Bodies are disappearing. Lies are unraveling. And Killian's dark empire, built on weapons dealing and blood money is more dangerous than she ever imagined.
As Cassia falls pregnant and the mansion descends into chaos, she must navigate deadly games where jealousy kills and trust is fatal. One by one, the other wives fall, exposed, destroyed by their own schemes, until only one question remains:
Will Cassia become another casualty? Or will she claim her crown as the only woman fierce enough to stand beside a monster and transform him into a king?
From captive to queen. From six brides to one. This is the story of how Cassia Hale became Mrs. Thorne and survived to rule his empire.
A dark, intensely erotic romance about power, obsession, and choosing love with your eyes wide open.
⚠️ Trigger Warnings:
Forced Marriage/Captivity
Dubious Consent (initial encounters)
Sexual Content (explicit, intense)
Violence
Emotional Manipulation
Power Imbalance (age gap, wealth gap, power gap)
Threats to Family Members (Lila)
Dark Themes (obsession, possession, control)
Death (side characters)
Psychological Intensity
Potentially Triggering Romance Dynamic
9.6
HIS Minnie Mouse
9.6
When Claire agrees to play her cold-hearted boss's girlfriend for a weekend, she never expects a fake romance to turn into a nine-month marriage contract worth millions. She becomes trapped in the world of the ultra wealthy and her abusive ex resurfaces to blackmail her with millions. She also falls in love with her cold-hearted boss, leading to an affair that gets her pregnant. But the reason for the contract marriage is no longer necessary. What happens now that Claire has no reason to stay married to her cold boss?
8.7
"You're leaving," Lorenzo said softly.
Ivy straightened her spine and raised her chin. "I am. I'm getting out of this place even if it means climbing over the front gates. I can't stay here anymore. I'm leaving!"
"You can't," Lorenzo said flatly. "Not now."
"Watch me," Ivy hissed, brushing past him.
Lorenzo stepped in her way and grabbed her by the arms-not roughly, but firmly.
"I mean it, Ivy. You can't leave," he said tightly.
She struggled against his grip, her bag falling to the floor with a thud.
"Let me go, Lorenzo! I don't belong here. This place is insane. Your family is insane!"
"You belong to me," he said sharply, eyes burning into hers. "And it's my job to protect what's mine."
"I don't want to be yours," Ivy cried. "I want to be free! I want to live!"
Something shifted in Lorenzo's face. He looked at her then, not as an obligation, not as a pawn, but as a person. A frightened, strong, beautiful woman who had been caught in a storm she never asked for. And something in him cracked.
Lorenzo reached down and cupped her face with both hands. Ivy flinched at first but didn't pull away. His thumbs wiped away the tears rolling down her cheeks.
"I never wanted to hurt you," he said quietly.
Her lower lip trembled. "Then let me go..."
"I can't," he whispered.
And then, without thinking, he leaned in and kissed her.
***************
Ivy Wesley believed that marrying a wealthy stranger would be her golden escape from a life of struggle. Lorenzo Martinelli was supposed to be her way out: her fresh start, her answer to every prayer whispered in the dark.
But the moment the mansion doors shut behind her, Ivy understood the truth. She hadn't stepped into a fairy tale. She had walked straight into the lion's den.
The whispers about the Martinelli family's ties to the Mafia aren't just rumors; they're real, and now Ivy is bound to them by a ring on her finger and secrets she can never unlearn. There is no undoing this choice. No clean exit. Not after what she's seen. Not after what she knows.
Surrounded by dangerous alliances, ruthless power plays, and truths sharp enough to draw blood, Ivy finds herself caught in a world where trust is a luxury and loyalty can be lethal. Yet in the middle of the chaos, something even more unexpected takes root: a love she never planned for, never prepared for, and may not survive.
Now Ivy faces an impossible choice: run while she still can, or stand her ground beside the man who could destroy her as easily as he protects her. In a world where betrayal lurks behind every polished smile and devotion can cost a life, can their love endure... or will it be the very thing that brings everything crashing down?
8.3
Hovering as a translucent soul in the freezing cemetery, I watched Corbin Mendez—the ruthless billionaire I had spent my entire life despising—violently smash open my tomb.
I thought he had come to desecrate my corpse. Instead, he collapsed to his knees, reverently kissed my dead lips, and swallowed a lethal bottle of pills without a drop of water.
In my past life, I was betrayed by my ex-fiancé, framed by my vicious step-family, and trapped in a suffocating marriage with Corbin. I thought he was a paranoid, abusive monster who only wanted to control me. I fought his madness every single day until I died sick, exhausted, and utterly defeated.
But watching him climb into my casket, wrapping his massive arms around my cold body to die beside me, my non-existent heart shattered.
Why hadn't I seen the truth? He wasn't a monster; he was a deeply traumatized man suffering from severe PTSD, and his obsessive love for me was his only tether to sanity.
The regret and agony tore my soul to pieces.
"My love, I'm too late."
Those were his last words before his heart stopped.
When I opened my eyes again, I wasn't floating in a dark tomb. I was lying in Corbin's bed, exactly two years in the past.
This time, I wouldn't run away. I would heal the broken beast who died for me, and I would personally put a bullet in everyone who ruined us.
9.5
How far are you willing to go for your family's company?
Eloise Jane Lopez is the one true child of the Lopezes, and due to her sick father's wish, she needs to marry a man she doesn't know to keep the company her parents manage in order. And the man she will marry is none other than Cosmo Dominguez, a multi-billionaire, whose supposed fiancée was Eloise's step-sister but got pregnant, leaving Eloise with no choice but to be the substitute bride.
After the wedding, Cosmo laid out another agreement with Eloise, that the marriage would only be temporary, and that they would have to separate after two years.
Can they uphold the signed agreement until the end, or can they stop the feelings forming between them?