The Jilted Heiress And Her Billionaire Protector
I was forced to sign my life away to Jaxson Wilson, a ruthless Wall Street predator, just to save my family's failing company.
But the moment the ink dried on our marriage certificate, my family showed their true colors.
My cousin tried to physically attack me out of pure jealousy, and my grandfather weaponized my dead parents' tragic accident just to ensure my absolute obedience.
Suffering a severe panic attack, I packed my bags and fled the toxic estate.
I expected to be tossed into a cold, empty penthouse by my new billionaire husband. After all, this was just a corporate merger, and I was nothing but a tool to stabilize his stock.
Yet, everything Jaxson did completely shattered my expectations.
He didn't neglect me. He personally designed a breathtaking mansion tailored to my habits.
When I cooked cheap pasta in the middle of the night, the billionaire CEO rolled up his sleeves to wash my dishes.
When a speeding truck nearly hit me, he risked his own life to pull me back, his eyes dark with a terrifying, raw panic.
I couldn't understand it. Why was this cold, untouchable man treating a fake, transactional wife with such intense, suffocating protection?
"It doesn't matter if my family likes you. You married me. Not them."
Looking at the multi-million dollar diamonds he had just fastened around my neck, my fear finally evaporated.
If my family wanted to throw me to the wolves, I would gladly become the alpha's wife and make them regret it.
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Chapter 4
Kaia stepped out of the Maybach. Her heels clicked against the damp stone pavers. She tilted her head back, staring up at the towering glass facade of The Haven Estate.
Ethan walked past her. He tapped a code into the digital keypad next to the door. A soft chime sounded, and the heavy walnut door swung open automatically.
Kaia followed him inside. The foyer was massive, with ceilings soaring twenty feet high. A cascading crystal chandelier cast a warm, golden glow over the space.
A woman in a spotless uniform stood near the entrance.
"Welcome home, Mrs. Wilson. I am Mrs. Holloway," the housekeeper said, bowing her head respectfully.
Mrs. Holloway stepped forward and gently took Kaia's damp shawl. Her eyes were warm, devoid of the calculating judgment Kaia was used to from the Miranda staff.
Ethan handed the suitcase to another maid. He turned to Kaia.
"Ma'am, Mr. Wilson said you have full reign of the house. Please feel free to look around," Ethan said. He gave a brief nod and walked out, the front door clicking shut behind him.
Kaia walked forward. Her shoes sank into the thick wool rug. She stepped down into the sunken living room. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a staggering view of the New York skyline.
Her eyes caught something in the corner of the room. A large, illuminated architectural model sat on a custom pedestal.
Kaia walked over to it. It was a perfect, scale replica of The Haven Estate.
Ethan had walked back in holding a tablet. He saw her looking at it.
"Mr. Wilson designed the initial blueprints himself," Ethan said, tapping his screen. "He holds a dual degree in architecture from MIT."
Kaia blinked. She turned to look at Ethan. Jaxson Wilson, the ruthless Wall Street predator, was an architect?
She pointed to a specific section of the model. A beautiful glass sunroom extended out into the manicured gardens. "Did he design this part too?"
Ethan smiled. "Yes. Mr. Wilson knows you are a screenwriter and that you often work late into the night. He added the sunroom specifically for you. He said the natural light there would be perfect for your inspiration."
Kaia's heart slammed against her ribs. A hot, tight sensation bloomed in her chest.
She immediately dug her fingernails into her palms. Stop it, she told herself. It's just PR. He's building the perfect set for the perfect fake marriage.
Mrs. Holloway gestured toward the private elevator. "If you'd like to see the living quarters, ma'am?"
Kaia nodded. They rode the elevator to the second floor.
The doors slid open to a wide hallway lined with plush carpeting. At the far end stood a set of double carved wooden doors.
Mrs. Holloway pushed them open. "The master suite. Mr. Wilson's belongings are already in the dressing room."
Kaia stepped inside. The room was cavernous. A massive King-size bed dominated the center, covered in dark gray silk sheets.
Kaia walked toward the en-suite bathroom. She stopped in the doorway. The marble vanity held only one set of toiletries-men's. The air in the room was thick with the scent of cedar and mint. Jaxson's scent.
It was a purely male territory.
Kaia's breathing turned shallow. The walls suddenly felt like they were closing in on her. Her chest tightened with a sudden, overwhelming panic.
She turned around. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, rubbing her collarbones in a defensive posture.
"Are there other guest rooms on this floor?" Kaia asked. Her voice was slightly pitched.
Mrs. Holloway blinked, clearly caught off guard. "Yes, ma'am. Down the other hall. But Mr. Wilson instructed that you would be staying in the master suite."
Kaia bit the inside of her cheek. The metallic taste of blood grounded her.
"I am a very light sleeper," Kaia said, her voice trembling slightly. "I don't want to disturb Mr. Wilson. I'll take a guest room."
Mrs. Holloway looked distressed. "Ma'am, I really must ask Mr. Wilson before making that kind of change."
Kaia didn't want to make the woman's job harder. She forced a tight smile. "It's fine. I'll call him and tell him myself."
Mrs. Holloway looked relieved. She led Kaia down the opposite hallway and opened the door to a warm, beige-toned guest suite.
Kaia immediately told the maid to bring her suitcase inside. She started unpacking her clothes, shoving them into the empty closet.
Night fell. The house grew completely silent.
Kaia sat on the edge of the guest bed. She stared at her phone screen. Her thumb hovered over Jaxson's name in her contacts. Her stomach churned with anxiety. She had to make the call.
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9.8
Four years ago, I was drugged on a luxury yacht and ended up pregnant with twins.
I raised them in secret, enduring my stepfamily's daily abuse, until the billionaire West family patriarch cornered us at the airport.
He instantly recognized my son's face—an exact replica of his ruthless grandson, Bernardo West.
My malicious stepmother and stepsister immediately leaked to the press that I was a delusional gold-digger using fake kids to trap a billionaire.
They wanted the West family to destroy me to save their own social standing.
Bernardo himself looked at me with pure disgust, demanding a DNA test.
"If you ever lie to me, I will take the children, and I will make you wish you were never born."
I didn't want his money. I was a victim of that night too, left with a crescent-shaped bite mark on my collarbone and zero memory of who set us up.
Why did someone drug us? And how could I protect my babies from a corporate predator who could crush me with a snap of his fingers?
But when the DNA test came back 99.9999% positive, I didn't cower.
I showed him the scar he left on me, looked the most dangerous man in the country right in the eye, and made my demand.
"If you want to claim your heirs, you have to marry me."
8.7
Ada was eight months pregnant, sitting peacefully in her husband's Manhattan estate, looking at a baby nursery catalog.
Suddenly, her husband's mistress, Jacklyn, walked in, threw an ultrasound photo on the table, and locked the door.
Before Ada could process the betrayal, Jacklyn dragged her to the top of the marble staircase and threw herself backward just as Desmond walked through the front doors.
"She pushed me, Desmond! She tried to kill our baby!"
Desmond looked at Ada with absolute hatred.
He ignored Ada's breaking water and her agonizing screams for help, leaving her to miscarry on the freezing floor while he rushed Jacklyn to the hospital.
He sent Ada to a brutal federal prison for three years, where she was tortured and left with a body covered in horrific scars, mourning the baby she was told died at birth.
When Ada was finally released, Desmond destroyed her cousin's company to force her back to his estate as a lowly maid.
But when Ada saw Jacklyn's three-year-old son, her world stopped.
Right in the center of the little boy's palm was a faint crescent moon birthmark.
It was the exact same mark Ada had kissed on her own lifeless baby's tiny hand before the doctors took his body away.
How did her dead child become Jacklyn's little prince?
Looking at the woman who stole her life and the husband who threw her in hell, Ada clenched her scarred hands and swore she would tear their world apart to get her son back.
9.6
Minutes before announcing her grand engagement, Darla caught her fiancé sleeping with her stepsister.
She publicly exposed them and canceled the wedding on the spot.
Furious, her adoptive mother demanded Darla marry a fifty-five-year-old predator to save their broken business deal.
"If you don't do exactly what I say, I'll let your father rot in prison for the rest of his life."
Desperate to escape her family's control, Darla grabbed a massive, intimidating hotel security guard she bumped into in the hallway.
She shoved all the cash in her purse at him—eight hundred dollars—and begged him to fake-marry her.
They signed the papers at City Hall that same day.
But the nightmare didn't end.
That evening, Darla received a cold phone call from the state penitentiary.
Her father had been found dead in his cell, and her company, owned by her ex-fiancé's family, fired her immediately.
They had taken everything from her, leaving her completely broken and sobbing on the floor of her tiny apartment.
She thought she had nothing left but a broke, fake husband to keep her company.
She had no idea that the "poor security guard" holding her in his arms was actually Anson Prince, a ruthless billionaire CEO.
And he was already making the calls to tear her abusers' empires to the ground.
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?
9.7
For three years, I played the role of a devoted, naive wife to billionaire Conrad Whitney. I hid my true identity and foolishly believed in our fairy tale.
Then he handed me a harsh divorce agreement, ordering me to sign and walk away with absolutely nothing. He was leaving me to marry Cindy, the fragile woman he claimed had saved him from a fire.
He expected me to cry and beg. Instead, he watched coldly as Cindy and her family illegally transferred my father's trust fund. When I confronted them at the hospital, Conrad shielded her, calling me a greedy, toxic viper. He mocked me, completely blind to the fact that Cindy was a fraud. He truly believed I was just a pathetic, useless housewife who would be utterly destroyed without his money and status.
I looked at the man I had actually dragged out of that burning debris with my own soot-covered hands. My trauma, my sacrifices, and my love had all been reduced to a joke by his sheer arrogance and a few fake tears from a manipulative liar.
I didn't shed a single tear. I calmly signed the papers, drugged his wine, and left a crumpled one-dollar bill on his unconscious chest with a sticky note mocking his terrible service.
Then, I picked up my encrypted phone. It was time for the world's top surgeon, Dr. Hades, to return, and for Conrad to finally see the god he had just thrown away.
7.9
Erin woke up in her luxurious Fifth Avenue penthouse, three days after returning from the cold, sterile psychiatric hospital where her husband had locked her away.
On the night of their third anniversary, Crockett Winters came home smelling of his mistress's perfume, expecting his docile wife to serve him.
Instead of playing the obedient fool, Erin calmly exposed the million-dollar diamonds he had just bought for his lover.
Furious at her sudden defiance, Crockett tried to physically intimidate her, pinning her against a wall to reassert his dominance.
When his aggression failed, he threw a brutal divorce agreement on the table.
"Sign it, and you walk away with nothing. You can't survive without me, and you know it."
He sneered, convinced the ironclad prenup would terrify her. He thought her rebellion was just a pathetic, jealous tantrum, a desperate play for his attention while he continued to pamper his mistress.
He truly believed she was just a beautiful canary who would eventually crawl back to her gilded cage in tears.
But Erin didn't cry, and she didn't sign the papers.
Instead, she locked him out of the master suite and pulled out his unlimited Centurion card.
In a single night, she calmly spent ninety million dollars of his money to buy up prime real estate and hidden assets, taking the first step to build an empire that would completely destroy him.