The Ruined Heiress's Dark Contract Marriage
At her grand engagement party at the Plaza Hotel, Elsie Phillips thought she was the happiest woman in the world.
Until a high-definition video of her being pinned down by a strange man in a hotel bed was suddenly broadcast on the ballroom's massive screen.
Her fiancé, Kelvin, violently ripped his arm away in revulsion. His mother marched on stage, slapped Elsie across the face, and publicly canceled the wedding.
Her "sweet" cousin Belle dug her nails into Elsie's arm, whispering that she looked exactly like the cheap slut she was. It was a vicious setup.
Chased into the freezing rain by blinding tabloid cameras, Elsie hit rock bottom. But the nightmare was just beginning.
An encrypted phone left by her late father suddenly rang, revealing a terrifying truth.
Her parents' fatal car crash three years ago wasn't an accident. It was murder, bought and paid for by her uncle Fenton, who had since stolen her family's entire corporate empire.
When Elsie tried to fight back, Fenton's guards locked her in a dark room. They forced her into degrading sheer lace, planning to sell her to a sadistic Wall Street psychopath for fifty million dollars.
Standing on the edge of a second-story balcony, shivering in the freezing wind, Elsie's eyes burned with blinding hatred.
Her parents were murdered, her legacy stolen, and her reputation dragged through the mud by her own blood. Was she really going to die here, completely ruined?
Just as she let go of the railing to jump, a convoy of black armored SUVs smashed through the estate gates.
Arthur Michael, the most ruthless billionaire in the country, caught her in his arms. He wrapped his custom jacket around her trembling body and handed her a fifty-page prenuptial agreement.
"Marry me." He commanded, his eyes completely cold. "And I will help you send every single one of them to hell."
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Chapter 5
Hours bled away in the suffocating darkness.
Suddenly, the deadbolt on the storage room door snapped open with a loud click.
Two heavy-set maids marched into the room, their hands gripping thick strips of cloth.
Elsie scrambled backward, her heart hammering against her ribs. Her hand brushed against an old, ceramic vase on a dusty shelf. She grabbed it and hurled it at the closest maid.
The vase shattered against the floor, missing the woman by inches.
The second maid lunged. She tackled Elsie to the ground, shoving a foul-tasting rag into Elsie's mouth and tying it tight behind her head.
They dragged Elsie by her ankles out of the storage room and threw her onto the carpet of the sprawling guest bedroom next door.
Aisha walked in. In her hands, she held a piece of black lace lingerie so sheer it was practically transparent. Her eyes gleamed with a sick, twisted excitement.
"Strip her," Aisha commanded.
Elsie fought like a wild animal. She kicked, she twisted, she let out muffled screams through the gag, but the two maids pinned her down with their heavy knees.
They violently ripped the black cashmere coat from her body. The buttons popped off, scattering across the hardwood floor like teeth.
Tears of absolute humiliation spilled from Elsie's eyes, burning the fresh scratches on her cheek. She bit down on the gag so hard her jaw ached.
The maids forced her arms through the straps of the degrading lace dress, leaving almost nothing to the imagination. They hauled her up and shoved her roughly into the chair in front of the vanity mirror.
Aisha grabbed Elsie's chin, forcing her to look at her reflection.
Aisha picked up a tube of bright red lipstick and smeared it messily across Elsie's lips. "Look at you," Aisha mocked. "Cheaper than a club stripper."
Elsie stared at her exposed, trembling body in the mirror. Her stomach violently cramped. The trauma from the video, the feeling of being exposed and violated, slammed into her system. Her entire body began to shake with severe PTSD tremors.
Aisha clapped her hands together, looking pleased. "If you don't make Mr. Mortimer happy tonight, Elsie, I will personally flush your parents' ashes down the toilet."
Aisha turned and walked out, the maids following close behind. The bedroom door slammed and locked.
Elsie pulled the gag from her mouth, letting out a broken, animalistic sob.
She forced her shaking legs to stand. She stumbled toward the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, desperate for any way out.
She looked down. It was a two-story drop, at least twenty-five feet. Directly below was a walkway paved with jagged cobblestones. Jumping meant broken legs, or worse.
Just as despair threatened to drown her, the heavy iron gates of the estate slowly swung open.
A convoy of three massive, black armored SUVs rolled aggressively into the courtyard.
The door of the middle SUV opened. A tall, broad-shouldered man stepped out. He wore a perfectly tailored dark suit, his presence radiating an icy, terrifying authority. Beside him, Lee Weston lowered his phone and spoke in a tight, professional murmur. "Sir, just as you anticipated, we've tracked Mortimer Graves's signal to the vicinity of this estate. The evidence of their transaction is fully secured, and the FBI is standing by for your signal."
Elsie pressed her hands against the glass. She recognized the sharp line of his jaw immediately. It was the man from the bridge. The man who saved her.
Down below, Fenton rushed out the front door, his face plastered with a sickeningly eager smile. He reached out to shake the man's hand, but the assistant beside him coldly swatted Fenton's hand away.
Elsie's heart leaped into her throat. This was her only chance.
She slammed her fists against the reinforced glass, screaming for help. But the soundproofing was too thick. They couldn't hear her.
Arthur was already walking toward the front door.
Panic seized Elsie. She grabbed the heavy brass base of the vanity lamp. With a primal scream, she swung it as hard as she could against the window's locking mechanism.
The metal latch dented and gave way.
Ignoring the sharp pain in her hands, Elsie shoved the heavy glass window open. The freezing autumn wind ripped into the room, biting at her exposed skin.
She leaned halfway out the window. "Help me!" she screamed, her voice tearing through the quiet courtyard.
Down below, Arthur's footsteps stopped dead.
He whipped his head around, his sharp eyes instantly locking onto the second-floor window.
He saw the fragile silhouette clinging to the frame. Then, he saw the sheer, degrading lace dress she was forced into, and the tear-stained terror on her face.
The temperature in the courtyard plummeted. A murderous, apocalyptic rage ignited in Arthur's dark eyes.
Fenton followed his gaze and turned white as a sheet. "Mr. Michael, please, that's just my niece. She's... she's severely mentally ill-"
Upstairs, Elsie heard the heavy thud of the bodyguards throwing themselves against the locked bedroom door. They knew she had opened the window.
She looked down at the man staring up at her. She didn't know why, but looking into his eyes gave her a sudden, reckless surge of courage.
She swung her leg over the ornate balcony railing.
The bedroom door burst open behind her. The maids screamed, lunging forward to grab her.
Elsie closed her eyes, let go of the railing, and let herself fall into the empty air.
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8.9
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Humiliated and heartbroken, Ava makes a reckless decision that changes everything: a contract marriage to a stranger. What she doesn't know is that her new husband is Elias Ward,a powerful, cold-hearted billionaire with secrets of his own.
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In a story filled with scandal, heartbreak, and justice, one woman's pain becomes her greatest strength... and her ultimate weapon.
8.4
For twenty years, I lived as the adopted daughter of the wealthy Hill family.
But today, they forced me to sign a severance agreement and kicked me out so their precious biological daughter, Malia, could marry my fiancé.
To ruin me completely, they framed me for stealing Malia's engagement bracelet, threatening me with prison.
I calmly exposed the "sapphire" as cheap glass, then rolled up my sleeves to show the reporters my scarred, punctured arms.
For two decades, I wasn't a daughter. I was Malia's living blood and bone marrow bank.
They drained my health to keep her alive, even ordering doctors to ignore my failing organs just so she could attend a gala.
"Take this million dollars and shut your mouth," my adoptive father sneered, throwing a check at my feet.
My ex-fiancé looked at me with disgust, and Malia screamed that I was a crazy, vindictive liar.
They had stolen my life and my health, yet they still looked down on me like I was garbage.
I ripped the check into pieces and threw it in their faces.
Just as they ordered the butler to drag me out, a group of men in black suits shattered the chaos.
The heir of the untouchable Montgomery dynasty stepped through the door, ignoring the Hills' fawning, and handed me a DNA report.
I wasn't a disposable blood bag. I was the long-lost true heiress of old New York money.
And now, I was going to take back everything they stole from me.
9.7
Eliana Rivera is the firstborn daughter of business tycoon Cassian Rivera. When her father's company falls into debt, he marries her off to the arrogant and ruthless billionaire, Alexander Grayson, as part of a business contract and under the threat of blackmail.
Alexander, the billionaire CEO, never planned to marry, but the pressure of blackmail forces him into a union with a woman he barely knows. Although Eliana doesn't see Alexander as her ideal partner, she agrees to the marriage out of a sense of duty.
Once engaged, however, he barely acknowledges her presence and harbours disdain for her because of her father's actions and their relationship. But as they navigate their newfound relationship, the unexpected desire for each other's touch ignites-a twist neither of them planned, leading them toward an unforeseen love.
9.7
Emaline Finley was drowning in massive debt to keep her dying father alive, even enduring a humiliating blind date with an arrogant man just to find a financial lifeline.
But the fatal blow came from her former best friend, Kitty. Kitty, who was already engaged to Emaline's ex-boyfriend, deliberately told Emaline's father that his expensive treatments were bleeding his daughter dry.
Out of extreme guilt, her father threw away his life-saving medication and checked himself out of the hospital to die at home. When Emaline found him, he was coughing up pools of bright red blood, his lungs rapidly collapsing. As the paramedics rushed him away, Kitty called to gloat, mocking Emaline's poverty and telling her to go watch her father die.
Emaline was completely shattered, suffocating under the sheer injustice of it all. She had been betrayed, stripped of her dignity, and was now forced to watch her only parent slip away because of a cruel, spiteful lie.
Just as her world went dark, a wildly wealthy stranger stepped in. Cullen Preston, the mysterious man who had witnessed her humiliating date, paid the astronomical medical bills and brought in the city's top surgeon to pull her father back from death. But his salvation wasn't charity.
"Consider it a dowry."
He bought her father's life, and in exchange, he demanded Emaline as his wife.
9.1
What would a woman do if one day she is waiting for her husband to tell him the news of her pregnancy but he comes home with another woman who is pregnant with his child?
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Ariadne had a perfect life until her mother died in a car accident and her father remarried, bringing a stepmother and stepsister into her life. Once adored by all, Ariadne became an eyesore to everyone, including her father. Her stepmother and stepsister took everything from her.
However, she lost it when their eyes fell on Xander, the sole heir of the richest family in the country and her childhood love. When rumors of Crystal, her step sister and Xander's dating spread, Ariadne used her everything to force Xander into marrying her.
Despite pouring her heart and soul into the marriage Ariadne failed to make Xander reciprocate her feelings. Their loveless marriage came to an end when Crystal returned in their lives.
With a broken heart, Ariadne left the city with a secret and rebuild her life.
Five years later, she returned as a successful interior designer to design her ex-husband's new mansion. But this time, what she saw in Xander's eyes for herself was not hatred. It was something else.
She came face to face with the same people who had wronged her in the past. They still held resentment towards her. But this time Ariadne vowed to strike back at her bullies.
Many secrets were revealed in the process that made Xander regret his past actions. He determined to win Ariadne back.
BUT Will Ariadne be able to forget their past and get back together with Xander or She will choose someone else?
9.3
Candice Luna thought her marriage to Julius Hansen was a lifeline to save her father's struggling company.
She didn't know it was a death sentence until Julius coldly slid divorce papers across his mahogany desk.
His true love, Amina Rowe, was nestled in his arms with a triumphant, mocking smile. The "merger" Julius promised had been a brutal, hostile takeover designed to bleed the Luna Group dry from the inside. Bankrupted and utterly broken, Candice's father stepped off the roof of their corporate tower. Meanwhile, Candice was publicly humiliated, stripped of her dignity, and mocked by all of Wall Street as a discarded stepping stone.
She died in a car accident, her final moments consumed by an agonizing, feral scream. She hated herself for letting her blind devotion destroy the father who had always believed in her.
But when Candice opened her eyes to the harsh fluorescent lights of a hospital room, she realized she wasn't dead.
She was twenty-two again. Three years before the wedding. Three years before her father's suicide.
When Julius's assistant walked in holding a bouquet of blue roses to discuss the preliminary merger, he expected a docile, desperate heiress.
Instead, Candice grabbed a glass of water from the nightstand and flung it directly into his smug face.
"Tell Julius Hansen to never, ever send his dogs to my door again."
This time, there would be no engagement. This time, the Hansen family would choke on her family's legacy.