The Jilted Heiress In Blood Red
Harlene was locked out of her own family's estate in a freezing blizzard, still trembling from a severe panic attack.
Her mother delivered a cold ultimatum through a security screen: attend her golden-child sister Estella's award gala, or lose her medical funds.
To make it worse, her ex-fiancé, Dennis, had chimed in to call her embarrassing and pathetic.
At the gala, Harlene was treated like a diseased outcast.
Dennis fiercely protected his new lover, Jailyn—the very woman who had stolen Harlene's designs.
But the ultimate betrayal came when Estella flaunted a silver-embroidered antique dress.
It was Harlene's grandmother's dress, her only pure memory of love, handed over to the enemy as a trophy.
When Harlene demanded answers, her own father slapped her across the face in front of the press, just to protect their pristine image.
They had stolen her career, her fiancé, and her inheritance, all while branding her the crazy, unstable daughter.
The sheer hypocrisy and cruelty finally severed the last thread of her sanity.
Why should she play the silent victim while they played the perfect family?
Instead of crying, Harlene smiled.
She drew a hidden dagger, slashed the antique dress to ribbons, and dragged Estella and Jailyn to the center stage.
Standing under the blinding spotlight with a bloody blade, she looked out at the terrified crowd.
"The Beaumont family is done hiding," she declared into the microphone. "Tonight, the curtain falls."
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Chapter 3
Harlene stood in the doorway. She didn't move. She let them look, let their eyes scrape over her like sandpaper. The silence stretched until it became unbearable, and then the whispers began.
They hissed like snakes. "What is she wearing?" "She looks insane." "Someone should call a doctor."
Near the stage, Genevieve's face was a mask of fury. Her fingers were wrapped so tightly around her champagne flute that it was a miracle the glass didn't shatter.
Estella stood beside her, the picture of perfect concern. But her eyes were mocking, enjoying the spectacle of her sister's humiliation.
Harlene ignored them all. She walked toward the bar, her heels striking the marble floor with a sharp, rhythmic click. She picked up a flute of champagne and downed it in one gulp. The alcohol burned a trail of fire down her throat, igniting the rage in her stomach.
A rough hand clamped down on her wrist. The grip was bruising, crushing the delicate bones together.
The smell hit her next. Tobacco and expensive cologne. The scent of power and cruelty. Dennis.
Harlene didn't turn around. She just looked at his white-knuckled grip on her wrist, a cold smile playing on her lips.
"What the hell are you wearing?" Dennis hissed, his jaw clenched tight. "Are you trying to embarrass me?"
Harlene turned slowly. She took the hand that was bruising her wrist and dragged her fingernails lightly down the front of his tailored suit. She looked up at him through her dark, smudged makeup, her gaze a mix of seduction and utter contempt.
"Don't you like it?" she purred. "Isn't this what you wanted? A crazy woman?"
Disgust flashed in Dennis's eyes. He dropped her hand like it was diseased, wiping his palm on his pants. He glanced around the room, making sure no important donors were watching, before leaning in close.
"Keep your voice down," he snarled. "Stop acting like a child."
Harlene rubbed her wrist, the skin already turning purple. Looking at his perfectly composed, hypocritical face made her stomach churn. "You're worried about the cameras, Dennis. Not me."
Dennis tried a different tactic. His voice softened, his eyes feigning warmth. "Harlene, please. Remember when we got engaged? We were happy then."
"Don't," Harlene cut him off, her voice sharp as glass. "You were happy because my father was paying your campaign bills."
Dennis's face went red. The blow to his ego shattered his facade of control. He grabbed her shoulders, his fingers digging into her collarbones. "You don't get to be self-righteous. You're nothing without this family."
Harlene leaned in until her lips were almost touching his ear. "You look just like all the other pathetic men I've played with," she whispered.
Dennis shoved her hard. Harlene stumbled backward, her heel catching on the edge of the carpet. She crashed into a waiter, sending a tray of glasses crashing to the floor.
The shattering glass silenced the room once again. Every head turned, every camera flashed.
Dennis's expression flipped like a switch. He stepped forward, his hand outstretched, his face the picture of a concerned fiancé. "Harlene, are you okay?"
Harlene batted his hand away. She steadied herself, brushing a shard of glass off her shoulder. She looked at him with eyes that were dead and cold.
"Don't touch me," she said, her voice ringing clearly across the ballroom.
Dennis froze. The concern melted off his face, leaving only panic. He realized she wasn't playing by his rules anymore.
He shot her a venomous glare before turning and melting into the crowd, desperate to escape the blast zone.
Harlene didn't chase him. She simply picked up another glass of wine from the bar. She turned, her eyes scanning the sea of faces until they landed on a woman in a pale blue dress, laughing with a group of senators.
Jailyn Richard.
Harlene raised her glass toward the woman, a mocking salute. The hunt was on.
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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."
8.2
My wedding to Ethan Reed was just weeks away.
After seven years, I was certain of our perfect future.
Then, Ethan claimed "selective amnesia" from a head injury, forgetting only me.
I tried to make him remember, until I overheard his video call.
"Total genius move," he boasted to friends.
His amnesia was a fake "hall pass" to pursue influencer Chloe Vance before our wedding.
Heartbroken, I feigned belief.
I endured his open flirting with Chloe and their taunting selfies.
He mocked my distress, prioritizing Chloe's fake emergency.
After an accident he caused, he abandoned me, injured, choosing to send Chloe to the hospital first.
He even tried to cut me off financially.
How could my fiancé be this cruel, calculating monster?
His betrayal poisoned every memory.
I felt like a fool for trusting such boundless cruelty.
His audacity left me reeling.
But I wouldn’t be his victim.
Instead of breaking, a cold plan formed.
I would shed my identity, become Olivia Carter.
I would disappear, leaving him, my past, and his engagement ring behind forever, claiming my freedom.
7.9
Eileen Goff was a nobody, scrubbing diner tables to survive while her greedy family bled her dry.
On the eve of her twentieth birthday, the government's mandatory marriage algorithm matched her with a spouse.
It wasn't a plumber or a teacher. It was Harrison Butler, the ruthless, untouchable billionaire king of Butler Industries.
At the registry, Harrison's glamorous intended fiancée threw a half-million-dollar check at her.
"Take the money, get out of here, and never show your face again."
The registry supervisor even offered her a million dollars to sign a cancellation agreement, trying to erase her from the system.
At their first high-society gala, Harrison's stepmother and the fiancée locked Eileen in an empty room, plotting to humiliate her and prove she was just cheap trash.
Eileen was terrified and confused. Men like Harrison Butler didn't just accept federal matches with girls who smelled like fried onions.
But instead of abandoning her, Harrison smashed the door open, publicly banished his own family, and kissed her in front of the entire city's elite.
Why was this billionaire going to such extreme lengths to protect a complete stranger?
Then she overheard his assistant talking about a marriage clause in his grandfather's trust fund.
He didn't love her; he just needed a powerless, state-mandated wife to lock his parasitic family out of his empire.
Realizing she was a highly valuable pawn, Eileen stopped trembling, looked the billionaire in the eye, and spoke.
"I believe we can have more than just a legal relationship. We can have a business arrangement."
7.1
After the one-night stand with a man who refused to tell her his name, Charlotte would figure out on TV that the man she had s*x with the previous night was the heir to a billionaire empire.
At the same time, Jace Norman-the infamous playboy heir-faces a public scandal that threatens his inheritance. To protect the family empire, his ruthless father forces him into an immediate contract marriage.
And just like that Charlotte would get married to the spoiled, reckless son of the most powerful billionaire in the city.
That One night, Room 55 and Five thousand dollars she desperately needed would change her life forever.
Weeks later, Charlotte discovers she's pregnant.
But before she can process the truth, her manipulative boyfriend claims the child is his and begins blackmailing her.
As their fake marriage becomes dangerously possessive, secrets begin to spiral. An ex-boyfriend demanding money. Jace's jealous college lover is determined to destroy Charlotte. Charlotte's sister is hiding betrayal behind sweet smiles. And a billionaire father who will eliminate anyone to protect the Norman name.
When a forged DNA test claims the baby isn't Jace's, the empire turns on Charlotte.
But the truth is far darker than any of them realize.
Because someone has been orchestrating every lie from the beginning.
And when Jace finally discovers the baby is his...
He will have to choose between his father's empire-
Or the woman carrying his heir.
9.3
Charlene was locked in a Swiss asylum by the wealthy Gay family, force-fed antipsychotics until her hands shook violently.
Her adoptive brother, Columbus, dragged her out of the psych ward merely to parade her as a prop for the paparazzi.
He had locked her up to get a psychiatric evaluation, ensuring she was declared legally insane and unable to claim her massive trust fund.
The moment she returned to the estate, the torment worsened.
Her other brother, Antwan, kicked her to the ground and shattered her wrist on the gravel.
"You lost your legal rights, you stupid bitch," he sneered, while the staff blindly ignored her agony.
Her childhood bedroom was completely gutted and given to a distant cousin.
Worse, she discovered Columbus was secretly sleeping with Isabela—the fake heiress who had framed Charlene in the first place.
Every trace of her existence in the family was being violently scrubbed away.
She had lost her dignity, her health, and the baby the doctors claimed had died in the delivery room.
She couldn't understand why the family she loved hated her so viciously, stripping away everything she had.
That was until she saw a little boy in the hospital hallway, a perfect, miniature replica of her own face.
Clutching the gold-crested cufflink he dropped, she realized the asylum's doctor had stolen him.
Her baby was alive.
With her heart turned to stone, Charlene made a silent vow to crawl out of hell and burn the Gay family to the ground.
9.4
Vera thought her life was over the moment she caught her fiancee cheating with his ex.
Broken and filled with pain, she is approached by a billionaire who presents a simple contract to her. Let's get married.
Sylas Gold is the man admired by the entire world. He is untouchable, powerful and incredibly controlled. Their marriage was supposed to be a contract. A performance. It was a way for both of them to win.
When Vera is kidnapped by a man who looks at her like she's already his, she learns the truth Sylas never told her, about his mafia empire, the blood, and the brother who was supposed to be gone.
Cassian Gold is the man who wants everything his brother has, including Vera.
Now caught between two brothers bound by hatred, power, and obsession, Vera must decide who to trust in a world where love is dangerous, loyalty is fragile, and desire might just be her downfall.