The Jilted Heiress And Her Protector
I am the sole heir to the Beaumont empire, engaged to Julian for three years to secure our families' alliance.
But on the night of my 24th birthday, he left me waiting at a crowded bar for three hours. I called him twelve times, and he ignored every single one.
The next day, he claimed he was busy saving his ex-girlfriend, Abby, from an eviction. He promised to make it up to me at my wedding dress fitting. Yet, right before I stepped out in my gown, he ran off again. He even outsourced accompanying me to buy our wedding rings to my father's imposing Chief Operating Officer, Alex.
When my friend sent me a live video from a nightclub, I realized the humiliating truth. Julian had abandoned me at the bridal shop to get into a bloody street brawl over Abby. Even after I rushed to the club and used my family name to save him from being arrested, he still hesitated when his ex-girlfriend grabbed his arm.
"Julian, please don't leave me."
Hearing Abby's manufactured cries, he chose to stay by her side instead of following me. I stared at his bloody knuckles in pure, unfiltered disgust. Why was I ruining my pride for a man who constantly put another woman first?
Without looking back, I walked out of the club and got straight into Alex's waiting car. This time, I am canceling the wedding.
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Chapter 4
Colette sat alone in the center of the vast living room. The magazine in her lap was open, but she hadn't turned a page in twenty minutes. The silence of the penthouse pressed against her eardrums.
Suddenly, the polished steel doors of the private elevator slid open with a soft, melodic chime.
Julian Sterling stepped out. He looked immaculate in a navy blue suit, his blond hair perfectly swept back. In his arms, he held a massive bouquet of white peonies-her absolute favorite flower.
Colette dropped the magazine onto the glass coffee table. Her spine snapped straight, her posture immediately stiffening into a defensive wall.
Julian walked over, his handsome face arranged into a practiced mask of apologetic charm. He leaned down, aiming for her lips.
Colette turned her head slightly. His lips brushed against her hair instead.
Julian sighed, a heavy, put-upon sound. He placed the expensive bouquet on the glass table next to her discarded magazine.
"Colette, I am so incredibly sorry about last night," he started, his voice dripping with smooth regret. "I missed your twenty-fourth birthday. I know."
Colette crossed her arms tightly over her chest. Her fingernails dug into her cashmere sleeves. "Where were you, Julian? I waited for three hours. I called you twelve times."
Julian ran a hand through his perfectly styled hair. He looked genuinely stressed, his blue eyes pleading with her.
"Abby returned to New York," he said.
Colette's heart dropped straight into her stomach. The air in her lungs turned to ice.
"She got into a terrible situation with her landlord," Julian explained quickly, rushing his words. "She was being evicted. She was terrified."
Colette stood up. Her legs felt shaky, but her voice rose, sharp and cutting. "Abby Silva? Your ex-girlfriend's housing crisis trumped my birthday?"
Julian adopted a defensive tone, his jaw setting stubbornly. "She has no one else in this city, Colette. She was crying on the street. I was just being decent."
Colette stepped closer to him. Her eyes flashed with deep, agonizing hurt and a rising, uncontrollable anger.
"Is this wedding still happening?" she asked directly, her voice trembling. "Because your lingering attachment to her is humiliating."
Julian looked shocked. He reached out and grabbed her shoulders, his grip tight, trying to hold her in place.
"Of course it's happening," he reassured her firmly. "I love you. And the Sterling-Beaumont alliance is unbreakable. You know that."
Colette searched his eyes. She desperately wanted to find absolute certainty in his gaze. She wanted to see the man she had loved for three years.
Instead, she found only a chaotic, muddy mix of guilt, corporate duty, and exhaustion.
She pushed his hands off her shoulders. She took a deliberate step back, re-establishing her physical boundaries.
"Decency toward an ex should not mean humiliating your future wife in public," she told him, her voice dropping to a cold whisper.
Julian looked chastised. His shoulders slumped. "I know. I'm sorry. I will make it up to you. I swear."
Colette stared at him. Her logical brain screamed at her to throw the peonies in his face. But her three-year emotional investment, the public pressure, the fear of failure-it all warred inside her chest.
She gave a curt, stiff nod. She accepted the compromise to keep the fragile peace.
Julian immediately checked his luxury watch. "I have an urgent board meeting. I have to leave right now."
Colette watched in absolute disbelief as he turned his back on her. He walked toward the elevator. He had been in her apartment for less than ten minutes. And he forgot about their wedding dress fitting arrangements.
The elevator doors closed behind him, swallowing him whole. Colette stood alone in the silent living room. Her chest heaved, her throat burning with unshed tears.
She had to text the bridal shop to reschedule her fitting for tomorrow.
From the dark doorway of the library, Alex watched her shoulders tremble. He stepped back deeper into the shadows. He clenched his fists at his sides, his nails digging so hard into his palms that his knuckles turned stark white.
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8.4
Carissa's son was dying in the ICU, and the bone marrow match had just failed.
The billionaire father, Guilford Gates, cornered her with a cruel ultimatum: naturally conceive a "savior sibling" to save their son. But what shocked Carissa more was his family's sudden accusation that she had heartlessly sold her baby to them three years ago.
"You sold your own flesh and blood to us for five million dollars, so your body belongs to the Gates family."
She was dragged into their gilded estate, treated like a filthy, rented womb. Guilford's new fiancée mocked her, the matriarch humiliated her, and Guilford looked at her with pure disgust. When she desperately tried to feed her sick son and accidentally made him vomit, Guilford violently shoved her away and banned her from the room.
Carissa was devastated and entirely confused. She had never seen a single cent of that five million. Driven by a desperate need for the truth, she investigated and uncovered a horrifying reality: her own father and stepmother had secretly trafficked her baby to the billionaire behind her back, leaving her to bear the ultimate blame.
Looking at the bank transfer record bought with her son's life, the last shred of Carissa's vulnerability died.
She signed the conception contract without asking for a single penny. She was going to use the Gates family's immense power to destroy the blood relatives who sold her, and she would survive this hell to take back her son.
7.8
Helen was finally brought back to the luxurious Gallagher estate as their long-lost blood relative.
But her new family didn't welcome her; they looked at her with undisguised disgust.
The matriarch mocked her stench of poverty, while her step-sister Candice treated her like a feral animal. The patriarch, Fredy—who had built his empire by betraying Helen's mother—tried to break her spirit. He blackmailed Helen into attending a high-society gala by threatening to cut off her grandmother's medical funds.
At the gala, Candice squeezed into a diamond-encrusted gown, desperate to seduce the guest of honor, Damian Montgomery. Damian was the most powerful man in New York, and he was currently tearing the city apart looking for a mysterious woman named Jane.
Overhearing this, a sick, greedy smile spread across Candice's face. She planned to impersonate Jane to claim Damian's wealth and completely crush Helen under her heel.
"Hide in the corner tonight. Don't you dare try to speak to anyone important!"
They all thought Helen was just a helpless, uncultured country girl they could easily manipulate and step on to secure their stolen legacy.
What they didn't know was that Helen was the real Jane. She was the lethal shadow who had saved Damian in the woods, shattered his grip, and robbed his highly guarded vault just the night before.
Helen calmly adjusted her simple black dress and stepped into the ballroom, ready to tear their stolen world apart.
7.4
Avery thought she'd found her happily ever after with Ethan, the charming billionaire who swept her off her feet in Willow Creek. But after one night of passion, he vanished, leaving her heartbroken and alone. She returned home to find her grandmother, her only family, had passed away.
Devastated, Avery discovered a shocking truth: she was the daughter of a millionaire who'd left her a vast fortune. Relocated to New York, she met Ethan again, but this time, he was determined to win her back. Unbeknownst to him, Avery had been hiding a life-changing secret: she's the mother of his twin babies.
As Avery navigates her complicated past and the wicked family members who despise her, Ethan's pursuit becomes relentless. He'll stop at nothing to reclaim the love they shared, but Avery's secrets threaten to tear them apart. Can she trust him with her heart and the truth about their children, or will it drive them further apart?
Ethan's words echoed in her mind: "I've been searching for you for six years, Avery. I won't let you go again." But Avery's secrets were only the beginning. Little did Ethan know, their love story was only just beginning...
9.6
Haylie waited nervously at the Wall Street charity gala for her boyfriend Bryan, but a spiked drink hit her hard, leaving her stumbling into a VIP lounge.
There, Chester Steele, the ruthless CEO of Steele Industrial, found her—drugged and vulnerable. What started as a frantic claiming in the shadows ended with him whispering she was his.
But moments later, a security alert shattered everything: data breach traced to Haylie's terminal. Chester's fury exploded. He saw her brush past a Logan Group rival on footage and dumped her in the rain, firing her as a corporate spy.
Bryan answered her desperate call with ice: "It's over." Reporters swarmed her door, branding her a traitor. Arrested at the office by FBI agents, she watched smug coworker Erin wave goodbye.
Thrown in a cell, chained and grilled with fake evidence—offshore accounts in her name—Haylie learned the worst: charges now included her sick father, Ernest, framed for laundering the leak money. Plead guilty or he dies in prison.
Innocent and raging, she couldn't fathom who planted it all—the gala bump, the logs, the forgeries. Why her? Who hated her enough to destroy her life?
Chester burst in, posting unlimited bail but forcing her signature on a slave contract: live in his penthouse, serve him 24/7. As she collapsed in his arms, trapped in his gilded cage, Haylie vowed silently—she'd uncover the real traitor and make them pay.
7.4
Frieda married Dewitt believing he was just a struggling middle-manager, living in a cramped apartment with only seventy-two dollars left to her name.
She had no idea her cold husband was actually a ruthless billionaire running a cruel psychological test on her. Convinced she might be a gold digger, Dewitt gave her a meager allowance, keeping the divorce papers ready the moment she showed any greed.
While Dewitt secretly judged her every move, Frieda suffered endlessly. At her toxic workplace, she was relentlessly bullied by her arrogant in-laws and mocked for her scuffed shoes. Even after she risked her life to protect his grandmother from an armed mugger and exposed her own hidden tech genius, her coworkers still treated her like trailer-park trash. They cornered her on the street, pointing fingers in her face.
"You are a shameless, gold-digging whore! A billionaire would never want you!"
She endured the humiliation, having just rejected a priceless no-limit black card from his family out of pure principle. She truly believed she and her husband were fighting through poverty together. She had no idea her "poor" husband was watching her every struggle from the tinted windows of a hidden Maybach across the street.
But when her bullies finally pushed too far and raised a hand to strike her, the icy wall around the billionaire's heart completely shattered. Dewitt tore up the divorce papers, his eyes turning pitch black with murderous rage.
"If anyone ever raises a hand to her again, break it."
7.4
She saved a dying boy and forgot his face. He survived and memorized hers.
For a decade, Rob Stark was a shadow. He was the anonymous donor at her mother's funeral. He was the silent investor who saved her career. He was the reason every man she ever dated disappeared without a trace.
Chloe Bishop thought it was fate. But fate doesn't break into your house and leave a marriage license on your pillow.
"You tried to escape me three times, Chloe. There won't be a fourth."
The man she saved didn't grow up to be a hero. He grew up to be her captor.