The High Price Of Father's Freedom

I was at a high-end law school mixer, hiding behind a pillar and eyeing the shrimp buffet because my bank account was empty and my fridge contained nothing but expired milk. My father’s name was a national headline for all the wrong reasons, and my only goal was to survive law school without being recognized. That’s when the room went silent for the arrival of Armond Woodward, the billionaire COO of a global media empire. I froze, because seven years ago in Paris, he was Armond Chevalier, the sweet art student I’d shared a life with. Now, he was a cold-eyed predator in a bespoke suit, and he was staring directly at me like I was a missing asset he’d finally located. I tried to escape, but the walls were closing in. My tuition payment was forty-eight hours late, and my father was facing a new indictment that would keep him in prison for the rest of his life. While a rich classmate named Miles tried to "save" me by parading me around like a trophy, Armond was working in the shadows. He didn't just offer help; he bought my student loans and my father’s legal liens, effectively making himself my sole creditor. The realization hit me like a physical blow when Armond cornered me in his private elevator. He knew about my broken apartment lock, my ramen-noodle dinners, and every cent I owed. He hadn't just found me by accident; he had been watching me drown for years, waiting for the exact moment I became desperate enough to be useful. "I've been waiting for you to hit bottom, Rose," he whispered, using the private name from our past as he trapped me in the back of his black SUV. With the threat of a two-million-dollar restitution fee hanging over my father's head and the prosecutors closing in, Armond laid out his final terms. He didn't want an apology or a second chance at love; he needed a wife to secure his family trust and defeat a hostile takeover, and I was the only person with enough debt to be completely controlled. "Marry me, Abbey. A three-year contract, and I make all of this go away." I looked at the man who had destroyed my life just to own it and realized that to save my family, I had to walk straight into the golden cage he had built for me.

Chapters

Chapter 6

The bodyguards had already lifted Sophie, carrying her toward the service elevator with professional efficiency. Abbey took a step to follow, but Armond moved, blocking her path with his body.

"Abbey!" Miles called out, jogging over. "My car is right out front. I'll follow the ambulance."

Armond turned to Miles. He smoothed the lapel of his jacket. "You've been drinking, Sterling."

"I'm fine to drive," Miles bristled. "I had two drinks."

"And in this rain, in a Ferrari?" Armond shook his head, looking at Miles like a disappointed parent. "She needs safety, not a death wish."

Ken stepped forward, holding a sleek black folio. "Mr. Sterling, the floor manager needs you to sign for the damages. The glass Mr. Woodward broke... and the table spilled by your altercation."

"What? Armond broke the glass!" Miles protested.

"Technically, it was your guest who incited the incident," Ken said smoothly. "If you could just step this way..."

Miles looked at Abbey, then at the bill Ken was presenting. He was trapped by social protocol. "Abbey, wait here. I'll be two seconds."

He turned to argue with Ken.

Armond didn't wait. He gripped Abbey's elbow. His fingers were strong, digging into the tender flesh of her arm.

"Walk," he commanded.

He steered her away from the main exit, toward a panel in the wall that slid open to reveal a private elevator. He shoved her inside and hit the button for the garage.

The doors slid shut, cutting off the music, the noise, and Miles.

The silence in the small metal box was deafening. Abbey pulled her arm away, rubbing the spot where he had held her.

"I'm not going with you," she said, backing into the corner.

Armond watched the numbers count down. "Where are you going to go? Back to that rat-hole apartment in the East Village? The one with the broken lock on the front door?"

Abbey's breath hitched. "How do you know about the lock?"

"I know everything, Rose. I know you're eating ramen noodles five nights a week. I know your father's legal fees are drowning you." He turned to look at her. His eyes were tired. "I know you're scared."

"I'm not scared of you," she lied.

"You should be."

The elevator dinged. The doors opened to a private garage bay. The black Escalade was waiting, engine running.

"Get in," Armond said.

"No."

Armond sighed. He stepped close to her, crowding her against the elevator wall. He placed a hand on either side of her head, boxing her in.

"Don't make me carry you," he said softly. "I will do it. And I will enjoy it."

Abbey looked into his eyes. He wasn't bluffing. She ducked under his arm and marched to the car. She climbed into the back seat, slamming the door.

Armond got in the other side. He pressed a button, and the partition between them and the driver slid up, sealing them in a cocoon of leather and silence.

The car glided out of the garage and into the rainy night.

Abbey pressed herself against the door, as far away from him as possible. Armond loosened his tie. He looked at her profile, illuminated by the passing streetlights.

"Why?" he asked.

It was the question that had been hanging between them for five years.

Abbey stared out the window. "It was a summer fling, Armond. It ended."

"A fling?" Armond laughed, a harsh, humorless sound. "You left a note on the pillow. You changed your number. You vanished. That's not how a fling ends. That's how a witness protection program starts."

"I found out who you were," Abbey said. "I found out you weren't Armond Chevalier, the art student. You were Armond Woodward. We were... incompatible."

"So you ran because I was rich?"

"I ran because you lied!" She turned to face him, anger flaring. "And because I knew... I knew I couldn't be what you needed."

"And what did I need?"

"Someone who fits in that club upstairs," she spat. "Someone who doesn't have a felon for a father."

Armond reached out. He grabbed her chin, his thumb pressing against her jaw, forcing her to look at him. His touch was electric, sending a jolt straight to her core.

"You think I care about your father?" he hissed. "I cared about you. I've known where you were for years, Rose." Abbey's blood ran cold. "Then why..." "I was waiting," he cut her off, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous murmur. "For you to hit bottom. For you to be ready to admit you need me."

"My name is Abbey."

"Your name is whatever I say it is when we're alone."

He let go of her face. He sat back, running a hand through his hair. The vulnerability was gone, replaced by the mask of the CEO.

"We're going to my place. Sophie is safe. Tomorrow, we'll discuss your... situation."

"I'm not staying with you."

The car turned onto Park Avenue. It slowed in front of 432 Park, the needle-thin skyscraper that dominated the skyline.

"You are," Armond said. "Because I've bought your debt, Abbey."

Abbey froze. "What?"

"Your student loans. Your father's legal liens. I bought the debt this morning." He looked at her, his expression unreadable. "You don't owe the bank anymore. You owe me."

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‎ ‎ ‎Sophia Hayes has perfected the art of control. In the high-pressure world of The Metropolitan, she's the youngest senior journalist ever hired-an achievement built on ruthless discipline, flawless execution, and a reputation that makes even seasoned reporters double-check their facts before speaking to her. She is sharp. Unshakeable. Precise to the bone. Her life runs on deadlines, color-coded calendars, and emotional walls tall enough to withstand anything. ‎ ‎Dean Mercer is everything she isn't-and everything she doesn't have time for. A wildly successful illustrator whose comic series Love Is a Mess has a cult following online, Dean lives in a world where structure is optional and inspiration is everything. His apartment is chaos. His sleep schedule is chaos. His heart is chaos. He creates brilliance in messy strokes but hides his deepest truths behind humor, charm, and a smile that masks more wounds than he lets on. ‎ ‎So when the magazine pairs them for a high-stakes project-a revolutionary feature blending investigative journalism with illustrated storytelling-everyone expects disaster. Sophia expects worse. ‎ ‎Their assignment: explore modern love through real stories across the city. Raw, unfiltered, unpredictable love. ‎ ‎Exactly the kind of assignment that makes Sophia want to run. ‎ ‎Dean arrives late to their first meeting with coffee stains and excuses. Sophia arrives with a binder thick enough to double as a weapon. Dean studies her timeline like it's written in a foreign language. Sophia studies Dean like he's a problem she needs to solve before he derails everything she's built. ‎ ‎Their partnership begins in sparks-sharp, heated, dangerous sparks. ‎Arguments disguised as discussions. ‎Discussions disguised as power struggles. ‎Power struggles disguised as creative differences. ‎ ‎But tension has a habit of twisting into something else when the nights grow long. ‎ ‎As they dive into the city-interviewing strangers whose love stories survived decades, storms, heartbreaks, second chances-something shifts between them. Slowly. Quietly. Against both of their wills. ‎ ‎Sophia begins to see past Dean's easy humor to the man underneath-the one who fears failing the people he cares about, who draws comics because it's the only way he knows how to tell the truth. And Dean sees the cracks in Sophia's armor-the vulnerability she protects like a secret, the softness she doesn't show, the fire in her that the world misunderstands as coldness. ‎ ‎Their conversations deepen. Their arguments soften. Their laughter blends. ‎And the chemistry-the kind they both pretend not to notice-tightens around them like an invisible thread. ‎ ‎But the closer they get, the heavier the air becomes. Because both of them are hiding something. ‎ ‎Sophia hides her fear of losing control. ‎Dean hides his fear of being the reason someone gets hurt. ‎ ‎And the feature they're creating-meant to uncover the truth about modern love-begins exposing truths they never meant to reveal. About each other. About themselves. ‎ ‎Their late-night work sessions grow intimate, electric. Their stories blur with the stories they're collecting. Dean sketches Sophia without meaning to-capturing expressions she never lets the world see. Sophia writes notes about him she can't bring herself to delete. Something real starts forming in the space between them, fragile but undeniable. ‎ ‎Until the past they both buried finds them. ‎ ‎A mistake from Dean's life-one he thought he'd left behind-reaches the editorial floor at the worst possible time. A detail with enough weight to derail the feature, shatter their progress, and wound the one person who finally saw him clearly. ‎ ‎Sophia's instinct is survival. Run before she gets hurt. Seal her heart before it cracks open. Dean's instinct is retreat. Protect her from the version of himself he fears is still true. ‎ ‎Deadlines tighten. Trust fractures. ‎Their work stalls, their communication splinters, and the connection they've been dancing around threatens to snap under the strain. ‎ ‎But desire doesn't listen to logic. ‎And hearts don't obey deadlines. ‎ ‎Even as they pull away, they keep orbiting each other-drawn back together by an ache neither can extinguish. Their arguments deepen into something rawer, heavier. Their silence holds more meaning than their words. ‎ ‎They must choose: ‎fight for the story that could define their careers... ‎or fight for the connection that could rewrite their futures. ‎ ‎And when an unexpected message, a truth revealed too late, and one irreversible decision collide, they're forced to confront the question their feature was meant to answer: ‎ ‎What does love look like today- ‎and can two people living at opposite rhythms find it before it slips through their fingers? ‎ ‎On the edge of losing their partnership... ‎their second chance... ‎and each other... ‎ ‎

Action Modern Romance

8.9

Called to School for My Son's Fight

8.9

When a mother is summoned to the principal's office because of her son's schoolyard fight, she never expects to face her ex-boyfriend, who is now a police officer. During the tense confrontation, she fires back at his remarks by accidentally revealing that her son's rebellious streak is half his. As the noisy room instantly falls silent, she is left desperately wishing she could take back her words. Can she navigate the chaotic aftermath of this unexpected reunion?

Modern Romance

8.2

Divorce After Husband's Betrayal

8.2

After discovering her husband's secret infidelity, a devoted wife is forced to confront the collapse of her marriage. Reeling from the betrayal, she decides to reclaim her independence by filing for divorce. Navigating the complexities of wealth and social status, she seeks a fresh start away from her billionaire spouse's lies. This modern romance follows her journey of self-discovery and resilience as she leaves behind a toxic life to find true happiness.

Billionaire Modern Romance

8.1

Left To Die: Now The CEO Begs

8.1

On our third anniversary, my husband Marcus walked out on our dinner because his "best friend" Izzy had a crisis. That was the ninth time he chose her call over my presence. According to the sick bet I made with her years ago, it was game over. But the true end didn't come in a restaurant. It happened inside a plummeting elevator. When the cable snapped and the emergency brakes slammed us to a halt, I lay trapped under debris, my leg fractured and head bleeding. Izzy, terrified but scratched-free, screamed for help. Marcus didn't even look at me. He stepped over my broken body to scoop her up. "I've got you, Iz," he whispered, carrying her out to safety while I lay alone in the dust, gasping his name. He left me to die in that metal box. Later, when I confronted him, he called me "unstable" and "jealous." He claimed I was a burden, a placeholder he married just to pass the time until Izzy was ready for him. He even shoved me into a freezing lake to protect her from a confrontation she started. He thought I would always be there, the pathetic wife waiting in the shadows. He thought his love was a prize I would endure any torture to keep. He was wrong. I signed the divorce papers, threw my ring into the ocean, and vanished without a trace. Three years later, I returned to New York as a celebrated artist, with a man who treated me like a masterpiece, not a prop. Marcus, now ruined by Izzy’s lies and stripped of his fortune, found me. He knelt in the rain on the city street, weeping, begging for one more chance to fix us. I looked down at the husband who had let me drown. "There is no 'us', Marcus," I said calmly. Then I turned my back on him and walked into my future.

Billionaire Modern Romance

9.6

Life Is So Much Sweeter Without You

9.6

Noelle Rutherford is eager to share her pregnancy news with Chester Gray, the man who has cherished her for three years. However, while waiting outside a private club room, she overhears a devastating secret. The man she intends to marry is part of a cruel game involving an identical twin. As laughter erupts behind closed doors, Noelle realizes her entire relationship was a lie orchestrated by a boyfriend's brother. This mystery explores the fallout of a life-shattering deception.

Modern Mystery Romance

8.5

Our Last Fall

8.5

Commander Samson Gardner married the protagonist to honor a deathbed wish, despite his love for a childhood sweetheart. When Samson sides with his lover after she destroys a precious heirloom, the protagonist decides to leave. She cancels their marriage application and resigns from the military to become a foreign correspondent. By the time Samson tries to make amends, she has already vanished. Now, he can only watch her from afar, haunted by the marriage he threw away and the woman he can never win back.

Action Modern Romance

The High Price Of Father's Freedom

Chapter 6

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