
The Heiress Contract
7.7 / 10.0
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Sylvie Wilfred, a 23-year-old rebellious heiress, suddenly finds her freedom stripped away when her strict billionaire father hires Ryan, an infuriatingly disciplined bodyguard she clashes with from the moment they meet.
Neither of them is prepared for what grows in the silence between them.
When the Wilfred empire suffers a sabotage, Sylvie is forced into an impossible choice:
To save the empire, she has to marry Zade, a young mafia boss with his own dangerous agenda.
The Heiress Contract Chapter 1
The bass thumped through the walls of the penthouse club, vibrating through the floor as colored lights swept across the crowd with Sylvie Wilfred dancing without a care in the world.
"You know your dad would be furious if he knew you were here." Liana, Sylvie's closest friend said.
"He already suspects" Sylvie muttered, rolling her eyes.
"Maybe you should listen to him sometimes. The city isn't exactly safe lately."
"Please" Sylvie scoffed, though her smile was affectionate. "I can take care of myself."
After hours of dancing, they flopped on one of the elevated lounge seats.
Liana elbowed her. "Tell me again why you don't just move out? You're twenty-three. Billionaire heiress. You could literally vanish to Paris tomorrow."
"Because my father would send an entire fleet of helicopters to find me" Sylvie said dryly. "Besides... it's home."
The night grew quieter as the crowd gradually reduced. When the time finally came to leave, Sylvie hugged Liana, promising to text when she got home.
She waved her goodbye, and left to the parking lot where her silver sports car waited under the dim lights.
She slid into the driver's seat, tossing her small purse to the passenger side. The engine purred to life, smooth and familiar.
"Home." she mumbled to herself, pulling onto the main road.
The streets glowed with the remnants of nightlife, occasional cars, neon signs flickering against the pavement, the cool breeze slipping through her window.
She was five minutes away from the intersection near her father's business district when it happened.
A black van shot out of a side street.
It swerved sharply, too sharply, skidding across her lane.
Sylvie's heart slammed into her ribs.
The van screeched to a stop directly in front of her, blocking the road.
"What the..."
Two men burst out of the van almost immediately. Black clothes. Masks. Speed. Intent.
They were running toward her car.
It felt like her blood froze for a second as she realized that she's about to be kidnapped but just for a second, then instinct kicked in.
"Not tonight." she breathed.
She slammed the gear into reverse.
The tires screeched violently as her car shot backward, spinning halfway across the empty street. One of the men lunged for her door handle but Sylvie jerked the wheel hard, swerving sharply.
Her front bumper clipped the side of their van with a crunching metallic shriek. The impact threw the man off balance, buying her a fragment of time as she sped off.
The attackers went back toward their van, shouting something she couldn't hear over the roaring engine.
The van whipped into motion behind her. They were chasing her.
Her pulse pounded in her ears. She shot past an empty stretch of industrial blocks, gripping the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles whitened.
Think, Sylvie, Think, she thought to herself.
Her father's warnings struck her mind like echoes.
The city isn't safe for people like us. Stay home. Don't wander at night. Well, Too late now. She glanced at her rearview mirror. The van was gaining on her.
Her breath hitched but then she saw something else. Headlights. But not from the van.
From a second vehicle behind it, a dark car, moving faster, cutting across lanes as if it were intentionally intercepting the van.
"What...?"
The mystery vehicle clipped the van's flank, forcing it to swerve. Sylvie's eyes widened. Her heart hammered even harder.
Whoever was in that car wasn't just chasing behind, they were blocking the attackers, that means they were helping her. Or stopping the chase.
She didn't know which, but before she could process any of it, the van regained control.
The mysterious car swerved again. And the three vehicles locked into a dangerous chase across the darkened highway.
Sylvie swallowed hard.
"What is going on...?"
The road stretched out before her, unknowable, terrifying, and suddenly deadly.
And behind her?
A van with men trying to capture her... And someone else she didn't recognize, fighting to keep them away.
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The Heiress Contract of Contents
Chapter 1 Ch. 1Chapter 2 Ch. 2Chapter 3 Ch. 3Chapter 4 Ch. 4Chapter 5 Ch. 5Chapter 6 Ch. 6
Chapter 7 Ch. 7
Chapter 8 Ch. 8
Chapter 9 Ch. 9
Chapter 10 Ch. 10
Chapter 11 Ch. 11
All Chapters all
New Release Novels

8.1
At sterlinggate university, only one rule matters:
Monsters do not belong.
Yuna never meant to become one.
After being publicly humiliated by her boyfriend , Yuna's emotions spiral out of control, she had a tough encounter with her bully, Megan, triggering a secret she was never meant to awaken. She isn't just a werewolf.
She is a kitsune.
A nine-tailed fox believed to be extinct.
A creature every wolf has been trained to hunt.
When her transformation is exposed, the university goes into lockdown. Hunters flood the campus. Silver charms are distributed. And one order is made clear:
"Kill the kitsune".
The only person willing to protect her is Noah Phillips,the star wolf of the university... and the son of the chief hunter leading the execution.
As danger closes in and her powers grow harder to control, Yuna must choose:
hide and survive, or rise and fight back.
Because if the wolves discover the truth...
They won't just kill her.
They'll start a war.

7.7
BAD REPUTATION
7.7
It was her hair that fascinated him. The reddish-brown mass was parted high to one side, windswept almost. And then there was her make-up, neutral save for the liner around her eyes and the bold lip colour... was that purple?
His gaze narrowed over it and she must have sensed his attention, her eyes flickering in his direction. "You know, it's rude to stare."
Her voice was husky, a crisp edge that rasped along his spine and sealed her appeal. Derek was hooked. Her eyes were back on the doors, her lack of interest obvious.
He should've taken it as a sign, but since when had he backed off from anything he fancied?

8.6
"What do you think people would say if they found out you don't have a dick?" Christian asked, his voice low and dripping with seduction. His hand pressed firmly against my crotch, fingers exploring the flat, unfamiliar emptiness there. A devilish smirk curved his lips. "Or if they discovered these voluptuous breasts you've been hiding so well?"
A strangled moan slipped from my throat as his hand slid under my shirt, his fingers brushing over my hardened nipples, teasing them with slow, deliberate strokes.
"Which do you think they'd call you?" he murmured, eyes gleaming. "A boy with tits... or a dickless little fraud?"
I stared into his hungry blue eyes, words failing me.
"The term you're looking for is 'girl,'" came Xavier's smooth voice from the bathroom doorway. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click, his gaze raking over me with open interest. "So tell me, little girl... what the hell is someone like you doing in an all-boys dorm?"
Christian's smirk widened. "She wants to be devoured by boys like us." His fingers gave my nipple one last firm pinch before he leaned in closer, breath hot against my ear. "And I'll be more than happy to give her a taste."

7.7
Not only was I drugged, blinded and assaulted. I was deceived into carrying a baby by a stranger I never knew. Then he appeared and took my child away.
I was sent to a militia by the father of my child. I thought I was rescued but I was recruited to be a weapon for killing. Who was manipulating me, I didn't know. The answers were far from what I knew.
Forced to blend into the world that I could never believe I would be to, a place where brutality reigned, kill or be killed was the only language. I have survived but he has to pay for everything he did to me, because I believed every phase of my life was set by him and him alone. Have I really survived?
Who would have thought, he existed twice in the same world? Do I really know who I should take revenge on? Him or the person I would sacrifice everything for?
Was my mother the one who orchestrated everything? What kind of pawn am I?

7.6
The heavy prison gates clanged shut, ending three years. I scanned the empty lot for Julian, my fiancé. Deserted.
Biting December wind my only welcome. Calls to Julian, father, mother: unanswered/disconnected.
Shivering, Julian's tracker showed an unfamiliar Long Island estate. A freezing cab left me penniless; I walked through the blizzard. Through a mansion window, I saw Julian, my stepsister Clara, a small boy—a perfect family. Julian, who hated children, doted on him, and Clara wore *my* engagement ring.
I overheard Julian's call: he, my father, conspired to frame me for Clara’s medical error, saving their company and future. My family hadn't just abandoned me; they plotted my destruction.
A delayed text from Julian popped up, lying about a "cross-border meeting," promising to pick me up tomorrow. Despair vanished, replaced by a cold, terrifying smile. Typing "Understood," I turned from their stolen life, walking into the blizzard, fueled by burning rage.

7.1
I was the Architect who built the digital fortress for the most feared Don in New York.
To the world, I was Brendan Wiggins’s silent, elegant Queen.
But then my burner phone buzzed under the dinner table.
It was a photo from his mistress: a positive pregnancy test.
"Your husband is celebrating right now," the caption read. "You are just the furniture."
I looked across the table at Brendan. He smiled and held my hand, lying to my face without blinking.
He thought he owned me because he saved my life ten years ago.
He told her I was just "functional." That I was a barren asset he kept around to look respectable, while she carried his legacy.
He thought I would accept the disrespect because I had nowhere else to go.
He was wrong.
I didn't want to divorce him—you don't divorce a Don.
And I didn't want to kill him. That was too easy.
I wanted to erase him.
I liquidated fifty million dollars from the offshore accounts only I could access. I destroyed the servers I had built.
Then, I contacted a black-market chemist for a procedure called "Tabula Rasa."
It doesn't kill the body. It wipes the mind clean. A total hard reset of the soul.
On his birthday, while he was out celebrating his bastard son, I drank the vial.
When he finally came home to find the empty house and the melted wedding ring, he realized the truth.
He could burn the world down looking for me, but he would never find his wife.
Because the woman who loved him no longer existed.











