The Jilted Heiress And Her Spectacular Rebirth
Kelsi Owens stood in front of the mirror in a six-figure gown, ready to marry into the wealthy Harrington family.
But her fiancé, Jeb, didn't even look at her. He abandoned her right in the middle of the fitting because his widowed sister-in-law, Seraphina, called crying.
That same night, Kelsi collapsed on her apartment floor with a ruptured appendix. Sweating and in blinding agony, she called Jeb for help.
Instead of concern, she heard Seraphina laughing and party music blaring in the background. Jeb just snapped at her.
"Stop being dramatic. Seraphina is the guest of honor tonight. I can't leave."
He hung up, leaving her to call her own ambulance. Kelsi woke up from emergency surgery completely alone, only to receive a cold text from Jeb calling her fragile.
To make matters worse, her toxic adoptive family didn't care that she almost died. They demanded she crawl back and apologize to Jeb just so they could keep leeching off her connections and trust fund.
Lying in that cold hospital bed, the illusion finally shattered. For three years, she had always been the one left waiting. She realized she meant absolutely nothing to the people she loved.
Kelsi didn't cry, and she didn't beg.
She calmly texted Jeb to call off the engagement, blocked his number, and cut ties with her greedy relatives forever.
She was finally walking away. What she didn't know was that the city's most ruthless billionaire had been watching her, and he was already weaving a golden net to claim her for himself.
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Chapter 6
Gisele practically shoved Kelsi back into their leather booth, slamming the cocktails onto the table.
"Spill it," Gisele demanded, leaning across the table. "Who the hell is that? He looks like he walked straight out of a GQ editorial shoot."
Kelsi took a sip of her drink, wincing slightly as the alcohol hit her stomach. "I met him in London a year ago. He's an artist. We only talked for a few minutes."
Gisele's eyes narrowed as her internal radar began to spin. She tapped her manicured fingernail against her chin.
"An artist," Gisele mused. "And his name is Yannis. Sounds Greek. Very exotic."
"He said he just moved back from London because the opportunities there dried up," Kelsi added, tracing the rim of her glass.
Gisele slammed her hand on the table again. "I knew it! Kelsi, I am a genius. He is the textbook definition of a struggling, repatriated artist."
Kelsi frowned. "What makes you say that?"
Gisele waved her hands emphatically, dissecting the man they had just left in the hallway. "Did you look at his clothes? That leather jacket was gorgeous. The cut was perfect. But did you see the cuffs? The leather was worn down at the edges. The collar was faded."
Kelsi thought back to the moment he had caught her. She had been close enough to smell the leather and cedarwood on him. Gisele was right; the jacket looked heavily worn.
"What does that mean?" Kelsi asked.
"It means he has incredible taste, but absolutely no money," Gisele declared triumphantly. "He bought one expensive jacket years ago and has to wear it every single day. It's called 'exquisite poverty'."
It sounded absurd, but Kelsi found herself nodding slowly.
"And think about what he said," Gisele continued, leaning in closer. "The opportunities dried up. Did you see his eyes when he said that? There was this flash of... defeat. He's probably incredibly talented, but the art world is brutal. He's back in New York trying to hustle, and I bet you anything he can barely afford his rent."
Kelsi stared at the melting ice in her glass. Gisele's theory fit perfectly. It explained the contradiction in him-the arrogant, powerful way he carried himself, mixed with the worn clothes and the quiet admission of failure.
A strange pang of sympathy tightened Kelsi's chest. He was so handsome, so clearly intelligent, yet he was struggling just to survive in a city that ate people alive.
"So," Gisele wiggled her eyebrows. "Are you going to go for it? A hot, tragic artist is the perfect rebound. And the way he was looking at you... trust me, he is interested."
Kelsi shook her head immediately. "Stop it. I literally broke off my engagement this morning. I am not looking for a rebound, especially not with someone who has his own problems to deal with."
Despite her words, the image of Yannis's dark eyes burned in her mind.
Across the club, in the dark corner of the VIP lounge, Augustus sat down on a velvet sofa.
Chase Cabrera, a notorious playboy and one of Augustus's oldest friends, handed him a fresh glass of whiskey.
"Where did you disappear to?" Chase asked, eyeing him curiously. "I saw you talking to Gisele Vazquez's friend down there."
Augustus took a slow sip of his drink. He didn't confirm or deny it.
Chase smirked, leaning back. "You interested in her? That's Kelsi Owens. She's engaged to Jeb Harrington. The wedding is supposed to be huge."
Augustus lowered his glass. His eyes performed a slow, calculating sweep of the room before locking onto Chase. His voice was dangerously quiet.
"They won't have a wedding."
Chase froze, his glass halfway to his mouth. "How do you know that?"
Augustus ignored the question. "How well do you know Gisele Vazquez?"
Chase shrugged, confused by the sudden shift. "Well enough. We run in the same circles. See her at parties. Why? You want me to pump her for information?"
"I need to know everything about Kelsi Owens," Augustus commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Specifically, I need to know exactly what happened between her and Jeb Harrington in the last twenty-four hours."
Chase let out a low whistle. "You're serious about this. Alright, consider it done. But I have to ask... careful, that's Jeb Harrington's fiancée. Are you planning on poaching her?"
Augustus looked through the glass partition, his eyes finding Kelsi in the booth below. He watched her laugh at something Gisele said. The possessiveness that flared in his chest was violent and absolute. His mind drifted back to that gallery in London a year ago. She had thought he was just a struggling artist featured in the exhibit. She didn't know he had bought the entire gallery a week before the show, filling it with works from artists he sponsored, just so he could put his alias on one piece and have an excuse to finally speak to her.
He didn't answer Chase. He didn't need to.
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9.7
Luna Elena Frost was never chosen, only assigned.
Bound to Alpha Alaric Ashbourne through a cold contractual marriage, she endures three years as a Luna in name only. He never comes home, never defends her, and never looks at her, while his heart belongs to another woman.
At his grandmother's funeral, Alaric publicly dissolves their marriage, humiliating Elena before the entire pack. In that moment, she finally understands the truth. She was never wanted.
But the Moon has not abandoned her.
A forgotten night resurfaces. Her long-silent wolf begins to awaken. And secrets buried within her bloodline start to surface, drawing danger from every direction.
Cast out by the pack that once used her, Elena must flee, survive, and uncover her true power.
Only then does the Alpha realize his mistake.
By the time he turns back in regret, the Luna he rejected may already be gone forever.
7.0
Eight years ago, Alaina forced herself to say the most vicious, heartless things to break up with her fiercely loyal college boyfriend, protecting him from his billionaire family's wrath.
Now, she is a top maxillofacial surgeon, and Jarred Mcknight has returned as the ruthless CEO of Wall Street's most powerful corporation.
Their worlds collide in the ER, but Jarred isn't alone. He is accompanying his rumored heiress fiancée.
His eyes are pure ice. He treats Alaina with a suffocating, clinical detachment, fiercely protecting the heiress from Alaina's medical examination. The professional slap in the face shatters Alaina's heart all over again.
Later, at an exclusive restaurant, Jarred catches Alaina on a miserable, forced blind date. Still believing she left him for money and status, he publicly mocks her for working herself to the bone just to climb the ladder.
Her sleazy date, humiliated by the billionaire's sheer dominance, turns his bruised ego on Alaina. On the dark street outside, the lawyer aggressively grabs her arm, trying to force himself on her.
Alaina thought Jarred despised her. She thought he had completely moved on, leaving her to drown in the memories of the future they never had.
But why did Jarred suddenly explode from the shadows like a lethal predator, brutally snapping the lawyer's wrist just for touching her?
Pinning her trapped against the cold brick wall, Jarred's dark eyes burn with a terrifying, unhinged possessiveness.
"Is this the kind of garbage you date now?"
The eight years of separation mean nothing. The billionaire hasn't let her go, and this time, there is no escape.
8.1
Terminally ill.
Betrayed by her husband.
Abandoned by the only family she had.
Ariel died with nothing... and no one.
But fate gives her a second chance.
Reborn three years before her death, she walks away from the man who ruined her life-and takes back everything they stole.
Her love.
Her identity.
Her power.
Now, the cold billionaire who once ignored her can't take his eyes off her.
The brother who abandoned her starts to regret.
Too late.
Because this time, Ariel isn't the woman who begs.
She's the one who makes them kneel.
9.1
Elise thought her life was finally falling into place. She turned down her father's company to work as executive assistant to Marcus Grey-the boy she's loved since childhood, now the powerful CEO she's devoted her life to.
But when Marcus proposes to another woman, Elise's world crumbles. Enter Sebastian Deluca-Marcus's tattooed, ruthless, long-estranged brother. He's everything Marcus isn't: dangerous, magnetic, and determined to take back his place in New York.
But, there's something odd about him.
Something changed since he arrived.
Bound by family secrets and a mutual desire to expose Marcus's fiancée, Elise and Sebastian form an uneasy alliance. But as sparks ignite between them, Elise must choose: remain loyal to the boy she thought she loved, or risk everything for the man who sees her as more than a shadow.
Some loves are safe. Others are consuming. Which one will she survive?
9.3
To escape my abusive adoptive mother selling me to a loan shark for $50,000, I rushed to City Hall to marry a blind date.
In a blind panic, I grabbed the wrong man.
He was Julian Cardenas IV, a billionaire CEO who desperately needed a fake wife to dodge a corporate arranged marriage. We signed the papers on the spot.
He became my legal shield. He moved me into his pristine penthouse and secretly protected me from my family's violent threats. When I broke down crying in the freezing cold, he quietly left me hot cocoa. For the first time in my life, I felt safe.
But then, Julian overheard me complaining to my sister about my constantly breaking-down car, groaning that I had to "get rid of this baby four times."
He thought I meant abortions.
The man who was slowly melting my frozen heart instantly turned to ice. He threw away the dinner he had specially bought for me, his eyes filled with absolute disgust and blinding rage.
I was left entirely confused and terrified. Why did my savior suddenly look at me like I was the most repulsive thing in the world? What had I done to deserve this sudden cruelty?
I thought this fake marriage was my ticket out of hell. I didn't realize I had just locked myself in a cage with a furious, ruthless CEO who now wanted to destroy me.
7.7
Dasia's twin brother, Gerald, was an e-sports prodigy, the rising star of the Glory team.
But during a crucial moment, he was framed by his own teammates. They orchestrated a trap that completely destroyed his reputation and left his right hand brutally crushed.
Instead of getting him medical help, the club threw him out into the freezing rain, bleeding and disgraced. The manager labeled him useless trash and slapped him with a five-million-dollar termination fee to bleed him dry. Stripped of his pro status, the wealthy bullies at his prep school relentlessly targeted him, mocking his crippled hand and beating him down.
Dasia watched her twin brother cry in his room, his life and dreams shattered by the people he trusted. A violent, suffocating rage boiled in her chest. How could they smile while crushing his hand? Why should the victim be treated like a rotting piece of garbage while the perpetrators get rich and celebrated?
She didn't shed a single tear. She stood in front of the mirror, took a pair of scissors, and ruthlessly hacked off her waist-length hair. She wrapped her chest in coarse medical bandages until her ribs screamed, and pulled on his oversized black hoodie.
"Everything you took from him, I am going to take back with interest."
The girl in the mirror was gone. She was Gerald now. She secretly passed the brutal online tryouts for Glory's biggest rival, the elite Blackflame team, and signed their official contract. The revenge had officially begun.