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 5
Kaia sucked in a sharp breath. Her thumb pushed down on the screen, hitting the call button.
She pressed the phone to her ear. Her heart hammered wildly against her ribs.
The phone rang twice.
"Kaia."
Jaxson's voice was deep, laced with a heavy exhaustion. In the background, Kaia could hear the faint, crisp sound of paper pages turning.
Kaia swallowed hard. Her throat was tight. "Jaxson," she said. Her voice came out breathless and weak.
The sound of turning pages stopped instantly.
"Are you not used to the new house?" Jaxson asked. His tone dropped an octave, becoming noticeably softer.
"No, no," Kaia rushed to say. "The house is beautiful. Mrs. Holloway is wonderful."
A low chuckle vibrated through the speaker. The sound sent a sudden rush of heat straight to Kaia's ears.
"If everything is fine," Jaxson said smoothly, "then you wouldn't be calling me. What's the problem?"
Kaia gripped the bedsheet with her free hand, twisting the fabric. He saw right through her.
"I... I want to sleep in the guest room," Kaia blurted out.
Dead silence.
One second. Two seconds. Three seconds.
The silence stretched over the phone line like a physical weight pressing down on Kaia's chest. Her lungs seized.
"I write scripts late at night," Kaia babbled, desperate to fill the void. "My schedule is terrible. I don't want to wake you up. It's just better for both of our sleep quality if we-"
Jaxson pinched the bridge of his nose on the other end of the line. He knew she was lying. He knew she was terrified of sharing a bed with him.
"Fine," Jaxson said. His voice was completely flat. "Sleep wherever you feel comfortable."
Kaia froze. Her mouth fell open slightly. She had prepared a dozen arguments. She expected a fight.
"You... you agree?" Kaia asked, her voice filled with disbelief. "What about the staff? Won't they talk?"
"At The Haven Estate, you don't need to care about anyone's opinion," Jaxson said. His voice hardened with absolute authority. "Including mine."
The words hit Kaia's chest like a physical blow. A strange, warm ripple spread through her stomach. What did that mean? Was he giving her freedom, or was he telling her he was so indifferent to this sham marriage that she could do whatever she wanted? The thought was both liberating and strangely insulting, twisting the warmth into a knot of deep confusion. She didn't know what to say.
"What did you eat for dinner?" Jaxson asked, abruptly shifting the conversation.
Kaia blinked. "I was tired from unpacking. I haven't eaten yet."
"Kaia." Jaxson's voice snapped like a whip. It was sharp and furious. "Do not play games with your health. Go downstairs right now and have the kitchen make you something."
Kaia flinched at the sudden reprimand. "Okay," she mumbled, sounding exactly like a scolded child.
Jaxson heard the soft submission in her voice. He let out a heavy sigh. "I have a dinner meeting tonight. I'll be back late. Go to sleep early."
"Goodnight," Kaia said softly.
She hung up the phone. She stared at the black screen, letting out a massive breath. The tension drained out of her muscles, leaving her feeling light and hollow.
She stood up and walked into the closet. She stripped off her clothes and pulled on a pair of loose, soft cotton pajamas.
She opened the bedroom door. The hallway sconces cast a dim, amber glow. The central air conditioning hummed quietly.
Kaia walked down the curved staircase. She stepped lightly on the balls of her feet, not wanting to wake Mrs. Holloway or the maids.
She found the massive open-concept kitchen in the dark. She flicked on a single, small spotlight above the marble island.
She opened the double-door industrial refrigerator. It was packed with wagyu beef and truffles, but she bypassed all of it. She grabbed two tomatoes and a handful of dry spaghetti.
She set the ingredients on the cold marble counter. She turned on the sink, the water rushing loudly as she washed the tomatoes. She grabbed a knife and started chopping.
She was completely focused on the rhythm of the blade against the cutting board. She didn't hear the faint electronic click of the front door unlocking.
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9.0
Adaline Poole thought she had escaped her family's toxic corporate grip by moving to London and adopting a stray cat named Monty.
But when she returns to her empty apartment, her father delivers a chilling ultimatum: he has kidnapped the cat and will euthanize it by morning unless she accepts an arranged marriage with Barron Cooke, a notoriously elusive billionaire.
Her entire family becomes complicit in her sale. Her mother demands she secure their elite status, and her brother secretly spies on her social media to feed Barron her every move. Horrified to discover Barron is a thirty-three-year-old "fossil" twelve years her senior, Adaline resorts to sabotage. She goes to a Soho club, takes a scandalous photo with a frat boy, and sends it to the old billionaire to disgust him into canceling their upcoming dinner.
But her rebellion backfires horribly when the frat boy spikes her drink with a powerful narcotic. As her body burns with a terrifying, feverish heat, she collapses in a dark corridor. Stripped of her phone and betrayed by her bloodline, she is left utterly defenseless as a predator approaches to drag her away.
Suddenly, the heavy fire door is kicked open by a towering, terrifyingly handsome stranger who effortlessly neutralizes her attacker.
"Please... help me," Adaline begs, deliriously throwing her burning body into his arms.
She has absolutely no idea that the handsome savior she is clinging to is Barron Cooke himself.
7.6
Johana walked half a mile through a brutal blizzard just to secure a tutoring job with the elite Black family.
But the very night she was hired, she received a terrifying call from the ER—her quiet roommate, Hazelle, had been drugged and severely traumatized at a Hamptons party.
When Johana rushed to the hospital, she didn't find the police. Instead, she found a team of ruthless billionaires erasing the crime.
Leading them was Dalton Black, the cold, arrogant older brother of her new student.
Within minutes, Dalton's fixers wiped the hospital's security footage, deleted all digital evidence, and forcefully transferred Hazelle to a locked private psychiatric facility.
"We are ensuring her privacy."
Dalton's voice was devoid of emotion, treating the horrific assault like a minor PR glitch.
His friends mocked Johana's powerlessness, while Dalton authorized a blank check to pay for the private ward, effectively burying the scandal and buying their silence.
Johana stood in the sterile hallway, trembling with a mix of despair and absolute rage.
How could they destroy an innocent girl's life and simply pay to make it disappear? Why was the truth so easily erased by money?
She had no wealth, no connections, and no proof, but she refused to be a victim of their cover-up.
Staring directly into Dalton's intimidating, icy blue eyes, Johana made a vow.
"I don't want your money. I will find out what you monsters did to her."
She thought the billionaire heir would crush her on the spot, but instead, he watched her walk away and quietly ordered his assistant: "Find out everything about Johana Neal."
8.6
For two years, I was trapped behind my own eyes, a prisoner in my own skull.
A crazed fan had hijacked my body after a brutal car crash, wearing my skin like a cheap suit.
When my soul finally locked back into my flesh in a cramped hospital room, I realized she had destroyed everything I built.
This parasitic stalker had drained my massive fortune to zero, buying luxury gifts for a mediocre actor and turning me into the internet's most hated woman.
My phone was flooded with death threats, and the hashtag demanding I go to hell was trending at number one.
Even the hospital nurses despised me. One marched into my room, raising her hand to violently slap my pale cheek.
"You psychotic bitch, you make me sick!"
Worse, my sprawling Beverly Hills estate had been foreclosed and sold to a mysterious billionaire named Kasey Dominguez.
I had absolutely nothing left. No money. No reputation. No home.
The sheer violation of watching a psychotic stranger ruin my life while I was locked in the passenger seat of my own mind made my blood boil.
I refused to let her destroy my legacy.
As the nurse's hand descended, my atrophied muscles snapped into action.
I twisted her wrist until the joint popped, grabbed the keys to my freedom, and slipped out into the cold Los Angeles night.
I was going to take my life back, starting with the billionaire who thought he owned my house.
7.9
Ivy Bennett proposed to the wrong man.
He was supposed to be wearing green. He wasn't. But he said yes anyway.
Now she's married to a billionaire CEO she met five minutes ago, living in a penthouse she doesn't belong in, and trying very hard not to fall for the husband who was supposed to be temporary.
The contract says six months. No feelings. Clean exit.
But Adrian Vale has been looking for her for two years. And he's not letting go.
A mistake. A contract. The wrong man in blue.
7.3
Six years ago, my father tore up my mother's trust fund and threw me out into a freezing New York storm.
Crawling in the mud with a high fever, I was nearly run over by a massive Rolls-Royce.
The man in the backseat, ruthless billionaire Hiram Houston, looked at my bleeding face with absolute disgust.
"Throw her in the trunk."
He coldly ordered his driver to lock me in suffocating darkness and dump me behind a sketchy private clinic in Queens like garbage.
I survived that night, completely abandoned by my family.
But the ultimate cruel joke came when I realized the anonymous sperm donor I later used from that exact same clinic gave my son a pair of piercing, ice-blue eyes.
For six years, I clawed my way up to become an untouchable lawyer and designer.
I raised my son Julian alone, publicly humiliated my abusive father, and thought I had buried the monster of my past forever.
But today, during a tense corporate negotiation, my uncle accidentally showed Hiram a picture of my little boy.
The ruthless corporate butcher stared at a child who looked exactly like a mirror reflection of his own youth.
"Boss... he looks exactly like you."
I locked my apartment door, my body shaking with silent sobs as I slid down to the floor.
He ordered a full background check on me, and now he knows the truth.
The man who once left me for dead is coming for my son.
8.2
After an accident left me blind, I spent six months trapped in darkness, relying entirely on my devoted fiancé and my caring adoptive sister.
But when my vision miraculously returned one morning, the first thing I saw was the two of them tangled in my guest room bed.
"As soon as that blind bitch signs the marriage proxy, the money defaults to my control."
I kept my eyes unfocused and played the fool. I watched as they forged my signature to drain my thirty-million-dollar trust fund. My adoptive parents even demanded I surrender my company shares because a disabled woman was a liability. When I refused, they went completely insane. Under the guise of a family dinner, they locked me in a VIP room with a grotesque Wall Street vulture, planning to sell my body to save their bankrupt business.
I had given this family everything, yet they were dissecting my life like vultures, convinced I was just a helpless, blind toy they could easily throw away.
But they had no idea I had already hired a supposedly homeless man to be my proxy husband to protect my assets. And they certainly didn't know this "beggar" was actually the ruthless, hidden billionaire heir of the Sweeney family. Gripping the hidden knife inside my dress, I dropped the blind act. It was time to burn them all to the ground.