The Mistaken Night With The Billionaire
"Did he touch you?" Aaron asked, his deep, growling tone making her shiver.
"It doesn't matter. You can't question-"
"Did. He. Fucking. Touched. You?" He asked, his voice more dangerous now, making her feel the full impact of his rising anger.
"He is my husband. How can I stop him?" she asked hesitantly, knowing she was inviting the devil himself to spill blood.
In a flash, he pulled her by the waist and pinned her against the wall with force. She gasped, startled by his sudden movement. Her wide eyes met his fiery, unforgiving gaze.
"Listen to me very carefully, mia cara," he said, his voice a lethal whisper. "The day I tasted every inch of you, you became mine and only mine alone. You were never anyone's wife or daughter-in-law. If you were connected to anyone, it was only me. So watch your words next time, because a single slip of your tongue might cost someone their life. Am I clear?"
Before she could respond, he crushed his lips against hers in a wild, punishing kiss.
°°°° °°°°
Alina's world shattered when her husband ordered her to spend a night with his unknown client in exchange for a billion-dollar deal. But when she arrived at the hotel, a simple mistake led her to knock on the wrong door.
Inside, she found Aaron Knight. the most powerful and ruthless billionaire of the era. The Elder heir of the Knight clan.
The elder brother of her husband.
That night, she unknowingly stepped into his room... and into his world.
Aaron, a man who had never been possessed by a woman's charms, claimed her with a possessiveness that stole her breath away.
Now, she is trapped in his grasp, and Aaron makes one thing clear:
"You were mine the moment you stepped into my bed... and I'll burn the world before I let you go."
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Chapter 4
He told her with a straight determination. He can't let this go that easily. Because this is something that happened to him for the first time. He quickly rose from the bed and wore off his pants. Millions of thoughts running inside his mind currently. Tension, overwhelming, rush of possessiveness, he can't just name one.
He wants to have a long conversation with her to know how she was a newbie in the first place. He was more tense because, in between the overwhelming desires, he forgot to use the protection. This is something he would never do even in a drunken state. For him, it's a severe situation.
...
Alina was watching his retreat figure with a clueless expression. She needs her own time to understand why this bastard was behaving like all shocked after doing everything. He must be under some drugs.
As she was cursing him under her breath, suddenly her phone buzzed with continuous messages. As soon as she read the message. Her eyeballs almost came out.
..
He went to the washroom to get himself splashed with cold water to calm himself.. after feeling a bit composed, he immediately came out to talk to her. However, what he came to witness was the cold and empty bedroom.
Soon his face hardened out of rage seeing she had already left. Didn't he tell her to wait? Then he immediately called the security of the mansion.
"Do not let the girl leave. Hold her until I come."He ordered his security while wearing his shirt. But the reply he got from there stood him still.
"But, boss. We haven't let any girl inside. And no one has come out of the hotel as well." reply came from their clueless security.
"What the!"
He was shocked by the news. What's that supposed to mean? How come they haven't seen her coming? Then how did she get inside? Under a big dilemma, he went to the surveillance room on his floor. He has his own personal security surveillance around his section. He went through the monitor eagerly.
But to his extreme shock, every camera on the floor was powered off for the last hour. None of her entry or exit was recorded. He bangs his fist against the wall feeling the immense rage. It can't be. Now how is he gonna find her? He stormed out to his room. She hasn't behaved well. She will face the consequences soon. Thinking about it. He took his phone and dialed a number.
"Ethan, you have a task." he said with a deep-down tone. A strong determination ruled in his eyes. Soon he would get her no matter what.
•••
"How dare you, Alina?!" Lucas's voice cut through the room like a blade. His fury was palpable as he shoved her inside the suite, the force of the push making her stumble dangerously close to the wall. "You fucking dare to ruin everything I've worked for!" His words were venomous, dripping with hatred and disbelief.
Terror gripped Alina as she instinctively shrank away from him, her body trembling from the sheer force of his rage. The realization of her mistake hit her like a tidal wave, drowning her in a sea of guilt and confusion.
"I-Lucas, please! It wasn't intentional," she begged, her voice barely a whisper. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she couldn't hold them back. "I-I didn't mean to, I swear. I had the key you gave me. I thought it was the right room."
Her words fell on deaf ears as Lucas's fury only intensified, his chest heaving with barely contained wrath. "Do you have any idea what you've done?" He roared, his voice breaking the air like thunder. "You've cost me fifty billion dollars-do you understand? Fifty billion! Because of your reckless mistake!"
Alina flinched at his words as if each one was a physical blow. He slammed his fist against the wall with such force that the room seemed to tremble. She could feel the madness radiating off him, a storm ready to swallow her whole.
"You'll pay for this," Lucas spat through gritted teeth, his finger stabbing the air, pointing directly at her face with such venom it felt like a curse. "You'll pay, Alina. You have no idea the hell you've unleashed."
With a final, guttural roar, Lucas stormed out of the room, slamming the door so violently it rattled the walls. The sound of the door slamming behind him echoed in her ears, a painful reminder of the nightmare unfolding around her.
Alina crumpled to the floor, the weight of her shame, guilt, and fear crushing her from every direction. She sat there, her sobs racking her body uncontrollably. Her head sank into her hands, tears blurring her vision.
Why? The question screamed in her mind, but there were no answers. She banged her head softly against the wall, her body wracked with heart-wrenching sobs, as if punishing herself for the disaster she had caused. Why was her life falling apart so violently?
Just hours ago, she had been dressed to please her husband's client, thinking she was merely playing the part of a miserable wife. But fate had twisted her into a reckless mistake. a night spent with a man she didn't even know. And now, she was trapped in a nightmare of her own making.
How could I be so stupid? she thought bitterly. She had been used, manipulated, and now the repercussions were too catastrophic to comprehend. Her husband's wrath would be the least of her worries.
She pressed her hand against her chest, as if trying to stop the ache there, the feeling of hopelessness that threatened to consume her. Why was she the pawn in a game she never asked to play?
As her cries became softer, a chilling realization began to seep into her mind. The man she had spent the night with, the man she had thought was a stranger client, was a hideously strange person, who she had given herself willingly. knowingly or unknowingly she has spent a one night stand with him.
Only if she knew, the person she had given upon herself was the most ruthless, powerful Multi billionaire of this era.
The Elder Son of Knight clan,
Her own Brother in law.
Her stomach twisted in fear as she remembered the encounter. Little did she know, the man she had given herself to was the very person who could destroy her life with a single word.
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9.2
Averie spent hours preparing a perfect third-anniversary dinner for her billionaire husband, Jarett Sharp.
Instead of celebrating, she received an anonymous photo of him intimately holding another woman.
When Jarett finally arrived, he didn't even look guilty.
"Candida. It's okay. Don't be scared. I'm on my way."
He simply took a call from his mistress, shoved Averie aside, and walked right back out the door.
That same night, Averie's father suffered a massive heart attack.
The hospital demanded a half-million-dollar deposit before they would operate.
But when Averie frantically tried to use the emergency medical trust card Jarett had given her, it was declined.
Jarett had deliberately frozen her access to the funds just hours earlier.
While she begged his assistant on the phone, Jarett refused to be disturbed, busy wrapping his expensive coat around his mistress in the hospital garden.
Averie collapsed in the hallway, realizing the man she loved was deliberately letting her father die.
In the end, a childhood friend stepped in to pay the bill and save her father's life, while her billionaire husband later pinned her to their bed, throwing a check at her and reminding her he had bought her for three million dollars.
Averie didn't shed a single tear.
She slowly ripped his check into pieces, left her massive diamond ring on the dresser, and walked out into the cold New York night with nothing but her old suitcase.
She pulled out her phone and dialed her old ballet professor.
She wasn't just going to leave Jarett Sharp. She was going to destroy him.
8.9
At my million-dollar wedding to the Hoffman heir, the priest was interrupted by a ringing phone.
My groom, Elijah, didn't silence it. He answered it right at the altar, yanked his arm from my grasp, and walked out because his "true love" Jalyn needed him.
I was left standing alone in front of three hundred elite guests, blinded by mocking camera flashes. My own mother rolled her eyes in disgust, later threatening to freeze my trust fund and sell me to a notorious playboy to recoup her losses. Elijah even had the nerve to call me, demanding I take the blame for the canceled wedding to save his PR, while live news feeds showed him cradling a fragile Jalyn in the hospital.
I had spent two years bending over backward to be his perfect bride, only to be discarded like trash. What made it sicker was finding out that Jalyn's sudden "medical emergency" was actually a ruptured cyst caused by having vigorous sex with Elijah right before he walked down the aisle.
I refused to let them destroy me.
Kicking off my six-inch heels, I stepped down from the altar and walked straight to the back row where Cristian Lowe sat. He was the ruthless iceberg of Wall Street and Elijah's most terrifying rival.
I looked up at his sharp jawline and asked the craziest question of my life.
"Will you marry me?"
He stood up, his dark eyes locking onto mine.
"As you wish."
7.5
Amelia has slaved her whole life, working multiple jobs to help support her poor husband Caleb― only to discover he is a millionaire!
When confronted, Caleb feels no guilt. He divorces her immediately to pursue his true love, leaving her with nothing to her name.
"Kelsie is the woman that I love, the woman who truly deserves to be by my side," Caleb said. "Now, sign the papers and I can end this farce of a marriage."
But thankfully, fate has yet to close all its doors on her.
The messy breakup has led Amelia to meet the elusive Matteo Montgomery, the mysterious owner of X'el International Inc., and even though Amelia could have sworn that this is the first time they have ever met, Matteo seemed to hold more interest in her than ordinary.
With her divorce finalized, Matteo's courtship quickly grows more extravagant. He offers her everything, from a job as his secretary, a new penthouse apartment, and a permanent home in his heart.
But just as Amelia's heart begins to open up to Matteo's sincerity, Caleb comes crawling back, determined to ruin her life.
***
[Excerpt]
"Oh?" Matteo asked, and Amelia caught a hint of amusement in his voice. "Then pray tell, what did we converse about?"
Amelia swallowed. Good heavens, he was so close. She could barely even breathe, afraid that every movement she made would just amplify how loud her heartbeat was. It was racing like a bullet train at this point, and she felt it clog at her throat, refusing her a chance to speak.
"I... I...I―"
"I have no girlfriend, Amelia," Matteo said. "And before you overthink, I do not have a wife in secret either."
His fingers didn't let go of her wrist, and instead, it even tightened its grip. It wasn't painful in the slightest, but it sent surges of electricity rushing through her body as though she had been struck by lightning in the most thrilling of ways.
A coy smile curved his lips, and he leaned in just the slightest. His lips were now a hair's breadth away from hers, and Amelia instinctively held her breath.
"Unless, perhaps you would like to volunteer?"
8.8
Alaia Dudley spent her life playing the devoted partner, completely unaware that her fiancé Austen was sleeping with another woman.
She thought the worst he could do was break her heart, until she found herself pinned to a cold operating table.
Austen held her down with a cruel smirk while a scalpel sliced through her sternum.
They cracked her chest open while she was still fully conscious.
The agonizing pain of her heart being cut out burned into her nerve endings.
She realized then that to him, she was never a lover—just a spare organ, a boring piece of wood to be discarded the second his true love needed it.
She died in excruciating agony, choking on her own blood while the man she loved walked away with her heart.
Until her last breath, she didn't understand why she had to suffer so brutally.
Why did she waste her life begging for a monster's attention? Why did they get a happy ending while she was carved up like an animal?
But then, ice-cold water flooded her lungs, and Alaia violently broke the surface of her bathwater.
Her trembling fingers touched her smooth, flawless chest. No scars. Her heart was still beating.
The date on her phone glared back at her: it was exactly five years ago.
Tonight was the exact night Austen first took his mistress to a hotel room.
This time, she wouldn't just expose them. She would use Wall Street's most terrifying tyrant as her personal weapon to strip them of everything they had.
7.1
I sat in the emergency room corridor, pressing a soaked bandage against my heavily bleeding arm. I had texted my husband of three years, billionaire Efford Thornton, begging him to come.
He did come, but he walked right past me as if I were a piece of furniture. When the doctor finally brought the last bag of O-negative blood in the city to save my life, Efford's assistant intercepted it.
Efford coldly ordered the blood to be sent to the VIP wing for Aletha Chase.
"Mrs. Chase is pregnant with the Thornton heir," he declared flatly. "The priority is non-negotiable."
As I watched my life-saving blood being carried away, he handed me a divorce agreement and an NDA. If I dared to expose his affair, he would immediately cut off the funding for my grandmother's dementia care, leaving her to rot in a public ward. He then turned his back, leaving me to bleed out in the hallway.
For three years, I had given up my career and my identity to be his perfect, compliant wife. I couldn't understand how the man who once looked at me like I was his whole world could now literally watch me die just to protect his mistress.
But he forgot one thing. The submissive wife he married was just a ghost. I wiped the blood from my hands, dug out the leather half-mask I had hidden away years ago, and made a call.
It was time for the legendary runway model "Phoenix" to rise from the ashes and burn his empire to the ground.
7.2
Six years ago, Seraphina's billionaire husband slapped a fake infertility report onto the marble table.
"Sign the divorce papers and get out," Julian commanded, looking at his wife of three years with pure, icy disgust.
Kicked out into the freezing rain while heavily pregnant, her own family abandoned her like garbage thanks to her sister's vicious lies.
She nearly died in a sterile operating room that night, giving birth to quadruplets, only for the grim-faced doctor to tell her two babies didn't survive.
She spent six agonizing years rebuilding her shattered identity in London, raising her surviving genius twins.
Meanwhile, her ex-husband paraded around New York with Livia, the very woman who orchestrated her ruin.
But when a medical emergency forced Seraphina back to the city, her twins accidentally crossed paths with two identical children at JFK airport.
Why did Julian's severely traumatized, mute daughter look exactly like her own little girl?
And why did her genius son just hack into his father's private server, only to find her delivery records locked behind military-grade encryption?
Staring at a faded ultrasound printout of four tiny shapes, a cold smile broke across Seraphina's face.
Tomorrow night, the discarded wife they thought they broke was going to crash the Astor-Vance charity gala, and she was going to burn their empire to the ground.