The Jilted Heiress's Ruthless Billionaire Revenge
For five years, I abandoned my status as the heiress of the powerful Montgomery family to play the role of a poor, submissive housewife for Barrett.
Then, a bank notification popped up on my phone. Barrett had forged my digital signature and transferred our entire $50 million joint trust fund to a woman named Crista Reid.
When I called his boardroom to confront him, he humiliated me in front of a dozen Wall Street executives.
"Stop acting like a hysterical housewife. You're living in a penthouse I pay for, so don't embarrass yourself."
I broke into his encrypted laptop and uncovered the sickening truth. Crista was his mistress, and they had a five-year-old son together.
Barrett hadn't just stolen my money; he had spent years painting me as a helpless charity case he rescued, completely erasing the fact that my financial models built his entire company.
He thought I was just a discarded peasant he could manipulate, cheat on, and replace. He truly believed he held absolute power over my life.
He had no idea that I still possessed the highest security clearance of the Montgomery empire.
I pulled an old BlackBerry from a hidden wall compartment, plugged it in, and dialed my family's lawyer.
"Draft the prenup for Commodore Clayton IV," I ordered, choosing to marry Wall Street's most ruthless predator. "I'm done playing the peasant."
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Chapter 3
The heavy oak door slammed shut, cutting off Barrett's sputtering protests.
My heels clicked against the hardwood floor of the hallway, a sharp, rhythmic sound that echoed my racing heartbeat.
Before I could reach the elevator, the door behind me ripped open.
"Harlow!" Barrett roared, his face flushed with a mix of panic and rage. He lunged forward, grabbing my wrist with a bruising grip. "If you walk into that elevator, don't bother coming back to the office tomorrow. You're done as CFO."
I stared at his hand gripping my wrist. My pulse pounded against his fingers.
I twisted my arm sharply, breaking his hold.
"Keep the title, Barrett," I said, my voice dripping with venom. "I'm sick of staying up all night checking for your stupid data entry errors anyway."
I turned my back on him, stepped into the elevator, and hit the button for the underground garage. The doors slid shut, severing his furious face from my view.
I walked to my Porsche Cayenne, the tires squealing slightly against the concrete as I pulled out of the parking spot.
I didn't turn on the radio. The silence in the car was absolute.
I connected my phone to the Bluetooth and dialed Gus Kowalski. Gus was a Wall Street titan, the primary venture capitalist backing Marks Capital's upcoming hundred-million-dollar merger.
He answered on the fourth ring. I could hear the thwack of a golf club and the wind in the background.
"Harlow," Gus said, his tone dismissive and slightly annoyed, clearly viewing me as nothing more than the Montgomery family's discarded shell playing dress-up at a startup. "If Barrett sent you to beg for better terms on the bridge loan, tell him my answer is still no. I'm in Boston."
"Gus," I interrupted, my voice dropping an octave. "Authorization protocol: M-G-T-Omega-Nine."
There was a loud clatter on the other end of the line. The sound of a golf club hitting the grass.
When Gus spoke again, his voice was tight, breathless, and stripped of all arrogance. "Miss Montgomery? That... that is the absolute highest family clearance. I didn't realize you still held that level of authority."
"Pull the funding," I commanded.
"Excuse me?"
"The bridge loan for Marks Capital. The hundred million. I want it pulled. Immediately. Initiate the withdrawal protocols before the market opens tomorrow."
"Miss Montgomery, that will bankrupt him," Gus stammered. "The penalty clauses alone-"
"Do it, Gus, or the Montgomery Trust will liquidate every position we hold in your firm by noon."
"Consider it done," Gus said instantly.
I ended the call. I looked at my reflection in the rearview mirror. My eyes were dark, hollow, and completely merciless.
While Barrett's world was about to catch fire, I drove to a private, members-only spa in Soho. I spent two hours getting a full-body scrub, a massage, and a blowout. I washed the stench of his apartment off my skin.
By the time I returned to the Tribeca penthouse, it was past midnight.
The elevator doors opened to my floor.
I stepped out and stopped.
Standing in front of my door was a woman. She was wearing an ill-fitting, last-season Chanel tweed suit that screamed 'new money trying too hard.'
Crista Reid.
She turned around, clutching a garish designer handbag. When she saw me in my vintage velvet gown, her eyes widened in shock, followed immediately by a flash of ugly, naked jealousy.
But she quickly masked it with a sickly-sweet, triumphant smile.
She straightened her posture, thrusting her chest out. "Oh, Harlow. You're home late. I was just coming to pick up some important files Barrett left in the study for me."
I didn't say a word. I walked straight toward the door, forcing her to step back or get run over.
I punched in the keypad code. The door clicked open.
As I pushed it open, Crista tried to slip in behind me.
"Excuse me," she said, her tone dripping with fake politeness.
I stopped abruptly and slammed my forearm backward, catching her square in the chest.
Crista gasped, stumbling backward in her cheap heels. She lost her balance and fell hard onto the hallway carpet, her Chanel bag spilling lipsticks and receipts everywhere.
"Are you crazy?!" she shrieked, her voice echoing in the quiet hall. "You assaulted me! Barrett gave me fifty million dollars today! He's going to marry me next month! You're nothing but a placeholder!"
I looked down at her sprawled on the floor.
"That Chanel suit is from the 2019 spring outlet collection," I said, my voice flat and bored. "If you're going to steal fifty million dollars, at least buy something that fits your shoulders."
Crista's face went chalk-white. Her mouth opened and closed like a dying fish.
The elevator dinged again.
The doors slid open, and Barrett sprinted out. He was sweating through his custom suit, his tie undone, looking like a man who had just looked down the barrel of a loaded gun. The withdrawal of Gus's funding had hit him.
He stopped, taking in the scene: Crista on the floor, me standing over her.
Crista instantly burst into tears. She scrambled up and threw herself against Barrett's chest.
"Barrett!" she sobbed, burying her face in his shirt. "She pushed me! She attacked me for no reason!"
Barrett looked overwhelmed. He awkwardly patted Crista's back, but his eyes were locked on me. He was searching my face for anger, for jealousy, for a screaming match.
He found nothing.
I leaned against the doorframe, watching them with the detached curiosity of someone observing animals in a zoo.
My utter lack of reaction sent a visible shudder through Barrett. It terrified him more than if I had screamed.
"Crista, what the hell are you doing here?" Barrett hissed, trying to peel her off him. "I told you not to come here."
"But she-"
"Go home!" Barrett snapped, his voice cracking with the stress of his collapsing company. He dragged her toward the elevator and shoved her inside.
Crista looked at him in absolute betrayal as the doors closed on her tear-stained face.
Barrett turned back to me, running a trembling hand through his hair.
Before he could speak, my phone buzzed in my clutch.
I pulled it out. A text from William.
Invitation secured. Le Bernardin. Private Room 4. Tomorrow at 8 PM.
I smiled. A real, terrifying smile.
I stepped inside the apartment and shut the door in Barrett's face.
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7.5
The Duke was standing in the middle of the room, his hands in his pockets, his head tilted to one side. It was a relaxed, casual pose, and yet the way he looked at her was anything but casual. The deep midnight of his eyes burned and he radiated a subtle, sensual energy that made the air around him crackle.
He looked like a man who'd never heard the word 'no' in all his life. Unluckily for him, 'no' was the only word she had.
"There's no reason why I should stay," Anna clasped her shaking hands together in an effort to still them. "I'm not marrying you."
His gaze flickered, his mouth curving slightly, and she had the disturbing thought that far from putting him off, her insistence was only inciting him further.
"But you haven't heard my proposal yet," he said mildly. "Isn't that why you're here?"
"I don't need to hear it. I already know that my answer will be no."
"Of course. But you can hardly tell your father that you heard me out when you haven't, in fact, heard me out.... Anna."
7.1
Aria has always gone unnoticed. As an omega at the lowest rank of the Silvermoon Pack, she has no family, friends, or prospects...only the contempt of wolves who regard her as insignificant. On her eighteenth birthday, she dares to hold on to the hope that fate might grant her a better future.
Instead, it destroys her. Her destined mate, Damon, the strong Beta, rejects her publicly in front of the pack. Humiliated and devastated, Aria must face the world alone... until one night transforms everything.
Attacked by rogues, she is saved by Alpha Luca, leader of the nearby Bloodfang Pack. Their connection is unmistakable...intense, fierce, and visceral. For Luca, who lost his first mate to hunters, Aria represents a second chance he never believed possible. For Aria, Luca becomes the lifeline she never anticipated would be.
Love with an Alpha is never straightforward. Damon's obsession darkens, transforming into something more sinister. Within Bloodfang, betrayal stirs as jealousy and ambition mask themselves with friendly appearances. The werewolf council begins to doubt her value. As conflict with rogue factions approaches, Aria must struggle not just to remain beside Luca but also to ensure the survival of his entire pack.
Once a broken omega, now destined to become a Luna... Aria faces a choice: to let her past shape her future or to rise above it and demonstrate that even the most overlooked wolf can alter the course of their destiny.
8.7
For seven years, I was Alpha Zane’s Chosen Mate, suppressing my warrior instincts to be the docile, supportive partner he demanded.
On our seventh anniversary, while I waited by a candlelit table, I accidentally overheard his mind-link with another woman.
"Seven years is a habit, my dear, not love. She's docile, she'll understand."
He told Seraphina, his new political ally, laughing as he dismissed my entire existence.
I didn't scream or cry. I scraped the anniversary cake into the trash, drafted a formal rejection letter, and walked out of the packhouse.
But Zane didn't even notice my departure. He was so consumed by his new lover that my rejection letter was treated as garbage and tossed into the incinerator.
He paraded Seraphina around the pack, even handing my hard-earned strategic command over to her—a woman who knew absolutely nothing about war.
When my loyal subordinates protested, he violently suppressed them, declaring my absence a "childish tantrum" and framing me as the bitter obstacle to his destined romance.
He honestly thought I was just hiding in my room, waiting to beg for his charity and accept a humiliating demotion.
He had no idea that I had already crossed the border into enemy territory.
Tonight, I am attending his grand celebration.
Not as the heartbroken mate he discarded, but as the newly appointed Gamma of his deadliest rival, the Sterling Pack.
8.2
In our beast world, females are treated as nothing more than precious breeding stock to keep the pack strong. As the pack's best Mender, I spent all my time focusing on my healing herbs, completely ignoring my maturity ritual.
But tonight, the blind pack elder grabbed my wrist and delivered a chilling ultimatum.
If I don't choose my mates by the next Full Moon, the Council of Elders will force a match and assign them to me.
The threat is already suffocating. Arrogant, elite warriors like Caleb Quinn are pacing outside my door like starving wolves, stalking my porch and using pack business to corner me. At home, the reality of multiple mates is even worse. My mother has two mates—my father, the strongest Alpha, and my cold, intellectual step-father. Their toxic, murderous jealousy turns our house into a daily war zone. They literally unleash suffocating killing intent on innocent cubs just for hugging my mother.
I am disgusted by this sick, possessive obsession. I refuse to let my life become a battlefield of jealous males fighting over who gets to guard my door, and I absolutely refuse to be forced into a harem by the Elders.
So, I made a declaration that shocked my entire family and broke every pack tradition.
"I will only ever take one mate."
And to make sure none of those predatory warriors can touch me, I set an impossible trap.
"Whoever wants me must defeat my father first."
8.3
I never thought I could find myself sucking the dìck of a man I should call father and made him moan out so loud. I found myself going back to have him finger and pound my clit, ripping moans off my throat as day passed by. I found myself moaning to him every single day, taking all his sexual command and fantasies, being daddy's naughty girl and wishing for nothing other than his 8 inches dick buried deep into my wet clit.
I grew up invisible, the illegitimate daughter of a woman who valued status more than motherhood. While she chased elite society, I learned to survive on my own, retreating into art and quiet fantasies of being chosen by someone who would finally see my worth.
Everything changes when my mother marries Calder Rhys, a billionaire widower seeking stability, not love. Thrust into a world of wealth and rigid expectations, I moved into the Rhys mansion and met Wells, Calder's polished and charismatic son. Drawn to him despite knowing he is unavailable, I mistake attention for affection, unaware that my longing is about to pull me into something far more dangerous.
A single mistake blurs boundaries that should never be crossed.
Caught between a mother who sees me as a liability, an elite society eager to destroy me, and a man whose influence could either protect or ruin me, I must decide who I want to become.
7.1
"You're playing a dangerous game" he whispered, coming close to me and pinning me to the wall. "You're playing with fire Little one, so don't blame me if you get burned" he teased, biting my ear.
Ellie Lane has been in love with Axel Creed for as long as she can remember. Axel is handsome, cold and calculating, sexy and dangerous, all the things she shouldn't crave but does and to top it all off he's also her father's best friend which makes him off limits.
She has fantasized about him for years and the first opportunity she gets to be closer to him she takes it, she moves to New York for college because of him.
When an unfortunate incident at her dorm causes her to move in with him, feelings grow when they are in such close proximity and one little moment of weakness ignites something neither of them can control.
Is their connection a fleeting mistake... or the kind of forbidden love that could destroy everything?