The Ruthless CEO's Forgotten Amnesiac Wife
Five years ago, Grace was left to die in the suffocating darkness of a collapsed building.
She survived with severe amnesia, clawing her way through Los Angeles as a broke, struggling actress.
But her fragile peace shattered when she was cornered by Bryce Delaney, a ruthless billionaire who looked at her with agonizing, terrifying obsession.
He slammed a multi-million dollar prenuptial agreement onto his mahogany desk, demanding she become a bought-and-paid-for mother to his three identical sons.
Worse, she accidentally ran into her biological mother, a wealthy socialite, on the street.
Instead of joy, her mother looked at Grace in absolute horror.
"You should have stayed dead! To us, you are dead!"
At her most important audition, her sister Ashleigh publicly humiliated her, mocking her torn clothes and ordering security to throw her out like trash.
Meanwhile, Bryce threatened to destroy her entirely if she tried to escape his grasp.
Grace was suffocating in confusion and rage.
Why did her own family leave her to bleed out in the rubble?
Why were they so terrified to see her alive?
And why did this powerful tyrant call her "Gracie" with such broken grief, yet try to trap her in a fake, transactional cage?
She refused to be a victim again.
She threw the contract directly at Bryce's chest and violently slapped her sister's hand away.
Just as the industry tried to blacklist her, an elite European consortium suddenly descended, pouring fifteen million dollars into the production solely to crown Grace.
The war for the truth had just begun.
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Chapter 2
Grace shoved her frayed duffel bag deeper under the glass coffee table.
She abandoned the audition. Abandoned leaving the airport.
The stiff chair felt like a cage. She rose, abandoning it, and sank onto the plush sofa instead.
The boy who’d offered the handkerchief climbed up beside her, settling on her left. Tiny fingers adjusted his silk tie with unnerving precision.
The bespectacled boy perched on her right. His tablet, already open and glowing, displayed a rapid stream of code. With a final tap, the screen flickered – now showing a live feed of the lounge’s main entrance. He’d sliced through the guest wifi’s flimsy password, hijacking the public monitor feed in seconds.
The third boy bypassed the sofa entirely. He climbed directly into Grace’s lap.
He burrowed into the hollow of her collarbone, resting his head there, eyes closed.
Grace went rigid. Her hands hovered uselessly in the air, terrified to touch the expensive fabric of his coat.
An annoyed sigh escaped him. He grabbed her wrists, pulling her arms down, forcing them into a tight embrace around his small waist.
The heavy, warm weight of him pressed against her stomach.
A sharp ache bloomed in Grace’s chest – a tenderness so intense it hurt.
The boy on her left studied her profile.
"Flawless bone structure," he declared, voice pure Hollywood agent. "Oscar potential."
A breathless laugh escaped Grace. Jaw tension eased.
"Thank you."
The boy on her right didn’t look up from his screen.
"Mass-produced garments," he stated flatly. "Fabric pairing indicates high-level European classical aesthetic."
Grace stared. A five-year-old dissecting fashion theory.
"Who taught you that? Where are your parents? Why are you alone?"
The air froze.
A lightning-fast glance passed between the three.
The boy on her left lowered his lashes, shoulders slumping. "Father is a workaholic," he whispered, voice thick with manufactured sorrow. "Only cares about money. Not us."
The boy on her right tapped his screen. "Handed off to cold, violent bodyguards. Zero freedom," he added tonelessly.
The boy in her lap squeezed his eyes shut. Two perfect tears welled, soaking into Grace’s cheap cotton shirt.
Grace’s stomach clenched. Hot anger flared towards the unseen, uncaring father.
She unzipped her bag’s front pocket, pulling out three cheap, foil-wrapped chocolates saved from her flight.
She offered them.
These boys wore fortunes. Probably dined on gold-leaf desserts.
All three snatched the chocolate without hesitation.
The left boy took a bite, closing his eyes. "Most exquisite culinary experience of my life," he pronounced.
Grace watched them chew.
Suddenly – a high-pitched wail echoed in the back of her skull. A baby’s cry.
Pain exploded behind her eyes. A white-hot nail driven into her temple.
The chocolate wrapper fell. She pressed her palms hard against her forehead, a low moan escaping.
The boy on her right dropped his tablet. He seized Grace’s left wrist with both small hands, squeezing fiercely, pouring stubborn warmth into her, anchoring her against the storm.
The boy on her left leaped up. Ran to the dispenser. Filled a paper cup with hot water. Rushed back, holding it to her lips.
The boy in her lap reached up, chubby hands cupping her pale cheeks. "Don’t be scared," he whispered against her skin. "We are here."
The sharp pain began to recede. Their touch, a lifeline.
Grace pulled all three close, wrapping her arms around them.
Tears spilled, burning tracks down her cheeks. Why?
Then. The floor vibrated.
Heavy, synchronized footsteps echoed outside the VIP lounge. Military boots on linoleum.
The bespectacled boy snatched up his tablet. A red warning light flashed.
His face hardened. "Trouble."
The boy on her left grabbed Grace’s hand, fingers digging in. His eyes widened with practiced terror.
"Please," he begged, the picture of desperate innocence. "You have to save us."
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9.5
My boyfriend, Jefferson, convinced me to give up my Yale scholarship for him. He was my secret, my escape from the shame of my mother's past, and I threw away my future for our love.
Then, at a gala, he publicly announced his engagement to Aubrey Carroll-the girl who made my high school years a living hell.
He trapped me in his mansion, forcing me to become her personal servant. She tortured me daily, culminating in her brutally killing our dog, Charlie, with a garden trowel.
When her friends arrived, they joined in, stripping me half-naked and live-streaming my panic attack for the world to see.
The man who once promised to protect me watched as they destroyed me.
But as I lay bleeding out on the floor, it wasn't an ambulance that arrived. It was the private security of Alexzander Stevens-my estranged, billionaire grandfather.
He revealed I was his sole heiress, and now, we were going to make them pay for every last tear.
7.9
One night of deception.
A lifetime of consequences.
A bond that cannot be broken.
Nadia Williams is an Omega living in the shadows of the pack she once called home.
Since her father's death, she and her mother, Estelle, have been treated as outcasts by her ruthless uncle, Alpha Edwards. When her mother is framed for theft, Nadia is forced into a deal with the devil.
To save her mother's life, she must become a virgin substitute for her cousin, Danielle.
Her aunt, Katerina, offers a devil's bargain to set her mother free: Nadia must spend one night in the bed of the most powerful man in the country, the billionaire; Alpha Conrad Bradley.
The catch?
She must swap places with her spiteful cousin.
Conrad demands a virgin bride to secure his royal bloodline, and Danielle, Nadia's cruel cousin, has already forfeited her purity.
What begins as a desperate night of passion in the dark spirals into a web of hidden identities and betrayal.
Nadia survives the night and disappears, hoping to bury the shame of the encounter forever.
But fate has a different plan.
Desperate for a fresh start away from her uncle's shadow, Nadia secures a high-level position at Bradley Group of Industries.
As Alpha Conrad unknowingly hires Nadia at his company, an undeniable connection sparks between them.
Conrad is haunted by the scent of the woman from that night-a scent that doesn't match his fiancée, Danielle, but seems to cling to his new, brilliant employee.
As they work side-by-side, Nadia finds an unexpected and beautiful second chance at a life she thought was lost.
Yet, buried secrets threaten to destroy everything.
When the Alpha discovers the woman he truly bonded with, the fallout will be legendary.
7.7
Eva Brooks, a 25-year-old woman, was set up by her best friend. Her fiancé broke up with her and demanded compensation for allegedly cheating on him.
Eva had a one-night stand with the richest CEO in Dominic City, Ethan Owen. He was arrogant and offered her a job as his secretary.
As his secretary, Ethan couldn't shake his fondness for Eva. He became obsessed with her, worrying that she was cheating on him.
He broke up with his fiancée to become engaged to Eva, but will his fiancée let him go? Will Eva accept a relationship with her boss?
8.6
As the eldest daughter of the Sharp family, I was treated worse than a stray dog, while my younger sister Seraphina was their precious princess.
When the family needed someone to marry a dying billionaire heir, they naturally chose me to take her place.
To force my consent, my brothers held a peanut butter sandwich to my face—knowing it was a lethal allergy—while dangling my EpiPen just out of reach.
On speakerphone, my own mother sighed in annoyance.
"Let her die. It might be for the best."
I choked out an agreement just as my throat closed up. But the forced engagement broke my sacred mystical vow, causing me to violently cough up my own lifeblood.
Seeing the blood, Seraphina dramatically fainted. My brothers instantly carried her to the hospital, stepping over my dying body and leaving me to bleed out on the cold marble floor.
I had to use a forbidden blood rune, draining my last ounce of strength, just to survive the night.
Even the mystical Order I served offered no comfort, calling only to demand I secure ten billion dollars for them or forfeit my soul for eternity.
Abandoned by my blood family and my spiritual master, I was completely alone, left with nothing but a broken body and a ticking clock.
But they made one fatal mistake: they let me live.
I turned to the dying heir they forced me to marry, a man plagued by a dark curse only I could cure.
"I will be your wife, and I will save your life," I told him.
In exchange, I would use his unimaginable wealth and power to make everyone who threw me away pay the ultimate price.
7.7
I trusted the wrong people in my past life.
My supposed lover and my sweet sister conspired against me, locking me inside a burning warehouse to die.
But the man I had spent my life hating, my ruthless captor Damien Sterling, rushed straight into that inferno and burned alive just to try and save me.
In my past life, I was utterly blind. I believed Julian's forged documents and Scarlett's fake affection. I even tried to assassinate Damien with a silver dagger they provided, breaking the heart of the only man who truly loved me. I died choking on thick ash, realizing too late who the real monsters were.
Why was I so incredibly foolish? Why did I let their vicious manipulation turn me into a weapon against the one person who would sacrifice absolutely everything for me?
Opening my eyes again, the phantom smell of smoke vanished.
I was sitting in the bloody water of Damien's bathtub, right after my staged suicide attempt.
When my sister sneaked into my penthouse suite and handed me the dagger to kill him again, I didn't hesitate.
I grabbed her hand tightly and plunged the sharp blade directly into my own shoulder.
"Please don't kill me, Scarlett!"
This time, I will ruthlessly ruin them both, and I will never let Damien go.
8.5
I was supposed to marry Aaron, the future Alpha of the Blackwood Pack, and finally have my fairy tale.
But right before our Unity Celebration, I caught him buried between my stepsister's legs in our bridal suite.
When I refused to bind my soul to his at the altar and exposed his betrayal, my world completely shattered.
My own mother called me a crazy, wolfless bitch and disowned me on the spot for ruining a political alliance.
Aaron publicly humiliated me, screaming that as a wolfless Omega, I should have been on my knees thanking him for the chance to be his breeding mare.
Driven to absolute despair by the betrayal of everyone I trusted, I tried to jump off a freezing roof.
But a pair of strong arms pulled me back from the edge.
In the dark, a stranger consumed my grief, wrapping me in a terrifyingly dominant scent of cedar and leather, making me feel an intoxicating mate bond I thought I was incapable of having.
I thought it was just a desperate, one-night mistake to make me forget.
But the next morning, when I went to the Blackwood estate to return Aaron's gifts and leave as a Rogue, a suffocating aura filled the room.
The man who stepped between me and my furious ex-fiancé, the man whose marks were currently hidden beneath my clothes, stared at me with glowing golden eyes.
"Get your hands off her."
He was Kaelon Blackwood. The supreme Alpha King.
Aaron's father.
And he had just locked the door, declaring that I belonged to him.