The Secret Billionaire's Obsessive Love Trap
My mother was dying in the hospital, relying on expensive life support to survive.
But my own father suddenly cut off her medical insurance, conspiring with a ruthless pharmaceutical heir named Fred. They wanted to force me to hand over my grandfather's priceless DARPA research formula in exchange for a corporate bailout.
When I refused, Fred sent massive thugs to hunt me down in the freezing rain.
He even used his power to have my dying mother physically thrown out of the VIP ward, leaving her to suffocate on a rusted gurney in a dirty, crowded corridor.
My father and stepmother just sneered, watching me become a desperate pariah with nowhere to run.
I couldn't understand how my father could trade his own wife's life for a real estate deal.
Sitting in the pouring rain next to my mother, watching her skin turn the color of wet ash, my despair finally morphed into a cold, hard rage.
"Sign the rights over to me, or buy a coffin."
Just as Fred raised his hand to strike me, a seemingly poor biotech sales rep stepped out of the shadows.
He brutally crippled Fred's guards, loudly claimed to be my boyfriend, and somehow got my mother secretly upgraded to the hospital's penthouse suite.
To protect this "broke orphan" from Fred's revenge, I took him back to my tiny apartment.
I was completely unaware that I had just invited the most terrifying, lethal billionaire on Wall Street into my home.
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Chapter 7
The smell of bleach and human waste hit Alaina like a physical blow as she ran into the chaotic emergency room of the Queens Public Medical Center.
Fluorescent lights flickered overhead. The narrow hallways were jammed with coughing patients and overworked nurses.
Alaina pushed through the crowd, her eyes scanning the temporary holding area near the triage desk.
She found her.
Eleanor was lying on a rusted metal gurney shoved against a peeling plaster wall. The expensive, life-saving targeted therapy IV bags were gone. In their place hung a single, cheap bag of saline. Eleanor's skin was the color of wet ash. Her breathing was shallow and ragged.
"Mom!" Alaina dropped to her knees beside the gurney, grabbing her mother's freezing hand.
She looked up wildly at a passing nurse. "Why is she out here? Where is her medication?"
The nurse looked exhausted. "Her insurance was flagged and terminated an hour ago. We don't have the budget for those drugs without a deposit, honey. We need the bed."
"Well, well, well. Look at the rat in the gutter."
Alaina's blood turned to ice.
She turned her head. Fred Porter was strolling down the dirty hallway, flanked by his two massive bodyguards. He looked completely out of place in his bespoke suit among the sick and dying.
Fred stopped at the foot of Eleanor's gurney. He pulled a folded legal document from his breast pocket and tossed it onto Eleanor's chest.
"Sign the rights to the trust over to me, Alaina," Fred smiled, a cruel, twisting expression. "Or you can sit here and watch her suffocate. Your choice."
Alaina stood up. Her vision went red. She grabbed the document, crumpled it into a tight ball, and hurled it directly into Fred's face.
"You sick, twisted animal," Alaina screamed, her voice tearing her throat.
Fred's smile vanished. His face flushed with ugly rage. He raised his hand, pulling his arm back to backhand her across the face.
Patients nearby gasped and shrank back. No one moved to help.
Fred's hand whipped forward.
Before it could connect, a large, calloused hand shot out from the crowd and clamped around Fred's wrist, twisting it with surprising force. Fred cried out in pain, his arm bent at an unnatural angle, but not broken.
Alaina gasped, stumbling back.
Standing there, wearing a faded gray hoodie and a pair of scuffed boots, was Kyle Wood. His dark hair was messy, falling into his eyes.
For a fraction of a second, Alaina saw a look of pure, demonic murder in Kyle's eyes. But as quickly as it appeared, it vanished. Kyle's face morphed into an expression of reckless, youthful anger.
Kyle twisted Fred's wrist sharply downward. Fred dropped to his knees, howling.
"Get him!" Fred shrieked at his guards.
The first bodyguard lunged, throwing a heavy right hook at Kyle's head.
Kyle didn't use the lethal, bone-breaking martial arts of a billionaire's assassin. He used the messy, brutal brawling style of a street kid. He ducked under the punch, grabbed the guard by the collar of his jacket, and used the man's own momentum to slam him headfirst into the plaster wall.
The drywall cracked. The guard crumpled to the floor.
The second guard hesitated, intimidated by the sudden violence. Kyle didn't wait. He stepped forward and drove his heavy boot directly into the side of the guard's knee. The joint buckled with a sickening pop, and the man went down.
Kyle stood over them, his chest heaving. He shook out his hand, playing the part of a guy who wasn't used to hitting people.
Fred scrambled backward on the dirty floor, clutching his wrist. "Who the hell are you?" he spat.
Kyle turned his back on Fred. He stepped in front of Alaina, using his broad shoulders to shield her from view.
"I'm her boyfriend," Kyle said. His voice was loud enough for the entire hallway to hear.
Alaina stared at his back, completely stunned. Her brain short-circuited.
Fred let out a barking, hysterical laugh. "A boyfriend? Look at you! You're wearing a twenty-dollar sweatshirt. You're a nobody. You think you can protect her from me?"
Kyle's shoulders slumped slightly. He looked down at his cheap shoes, perfectly executing the body language of a poor man humiliated by a billionaire.
Alaina saw his shoulders drop. A fierce, protective instinct flared in her chest. This guy had risked his life for her twice, and Fred was treating him like garbage.
She stepped forward and wrapped her arms tightly around Kyle's waist, pressing her face against his back.
"He's ten times the man you will ever be, Fred," Alaina said coldly.
Fred's face twisted in disgust. He pulled out his phone. "Fine. Play house in the gutter."
He dialed a number on speakerphone. "This is Fred Porter. Get me the hospital administrator. Now. I want Eleanor Wells permanently banned from this facility. If she stays, Porter Pharma cuts off your entire supply of antibiotics."
Two minutes later, a sweating hospital administrator ran down the hall. He refused to look Alaina in the eye.
"I'm sorry, Miss Wells," the administrator stammered. "Our ventilators just... malfunctioned. We cannot safely house your mother here. You have to leave."
Alaina felt the floor drop out from under her. Fred had just locked her out of the entire medical system.
"Twenty-four hours, Alaina," Fred sneered, turning to walk away. "Sign the paper, or buy a coffin."
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8.9
Betrayed by the people she trusted most, Ava Lin's perfect life shatters overnight. From losing her mother under mysterious circumstances to being tormented by her stepmother and stepsister, Ava learns early that love in her world comes at a price. But nothing prepares her for the ultimate betrayal,catching her fiancé in bed with her own sister just weeks before their wedding.
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.
Thrown into a world of wealth, power, and hidden enemies, Ava finds herself entangled in a dangerous game of revenge, lies, and unexpected passion. As she rises from the ashes of betrayal, those who once destroyed her will stop at nothing to bring her down even if it means exposing deadly secrets buried in her past.
But when love begins to bloom in the most unexpected place, Ava must decide,will she continue fighting for revenge, or risk everything for a second chance at love?
In a story filled with scandal, heartbreak, and justice, one woman's pain becomes her greatest strength... and her ultimate weapon.
9.6
To escape my sister-in-law selling me off to a local thug, I married a complete stranger I met at City Hall.
My new husband, Drake, claimed to be a broke Uber driver who could barely make rent.
He even made me sign a brutal ten-page prenup just to ensure I wouldn't take his rusted, beat-up Ford sedan if we ever divorced.
I thought I was just sharing a decaying Brooklyn apartment with a struggling man at the bottom of the ladder.
But things quickly stopped making sense.
When that local thug cornered me at a restaurant, my "weak" husband didn't cower.
Instead, he dismantled three massive mobsters in ten seconds with the terrifying, fluid speed of an apex predator.
"I used to be a human punching bag in an underground boxing gym to pay off debts."
I believed his excuse, until his supposedly homeless grandfather showed up at our door in a moth-eaten sweater, begging to sleep on our lumpy sofa.
Before going to sleep, the old man casually pressed a heavy, intricately engraved pocket watch into my hand as a wedding gift.
He claimed it was a cheap flea market find that didn't even keep time.
But the sheer weight of the solid rose gold and the flawless mechanical gears inside screamed otherwise.
Why did a destitute driver have the aura of a man who controlled empires?
And what kind of homeless old man casually hands over a priceless, museum-grade antique?
I had no idea the "broke driver" sleeping on my floor was actually a ruthless billionaire CEO, and I had just walked straight into his trap.
8.6
For years, Elvera lived as the despised charity case in the cramped Wright household.
When she caught her foster sister Donita straddling her fiancé, they didn't even panic. Instead, they loudly framed Elvera for stealing a diamond necklace to justify kicking her out.
Her foster parents immediately sided with the cheaters, screaming at her to pack her trash and starve in the gutters. Only her dying foster brother tried to sneak her his medical savings, but the family violently shoved him away, mocking him as a walking corpse.
Standing in the freezing Brooklyn wind, Donita and Crockett followed her outside just to laugh. They waved a crisp twenty-dollar bill in her face, mocking her biological family as a bunch of unemployed street thugs.
They really thought she was going to freeze to death on the pavement with nothing but a faded backpack.
But then a roaring, matte-black supercar pulled up.
The man who stepped out wasn't a street thug; he was her real brother, an FBI task force commander.
He effortlessly snapped Crockett's shoulder out of its socket, put Elvera in the passenger seat, and drove her straight to a sprawling billionaire estate in the Hamptons.
Sitting by the fire in her biological parents' palace, watching them casually display an eight-million-dollar sculpture she had secretly designed, the head butler suddenly walked in.
"Sir, the fake heiress has returned from Europe."
Elvera took a slow sip of her coffee. The real game was finally about to begin.
9.5
How far are you willing to go for your family's company?
Eloise Jane Lopez is the one true child of the Lopezes, and due to her sick father's wish, she needs to marry a man she doesn't know to keep the company her parents manage in order. And the man she will marry is none other than Cosmo Dominguez, a multi-billionaire, whose supposed fiancée was Eloise's step-sister but got pregnant, leaving Eloise with no choice but to be the substitute bride.
After the wedding, Cosmo laid out another agreement with Eloise, that the marriage would only be temporary, and that they would have to separate after two years.
Can they uphold the signed agreement until the end, or can they stop the feelings forming between them?
7.1
I worked eighty-hour weeks on Wall Street just to keep my sick brother alive, enduring endless humiliation from the wealthy family that adopted us.
But when I went to surprise my boyfriend of three years, I found him kissing my spoiled adoptive sister, Tatum.
They were celebrating their engagement to merge their powerful families.
To keep me quiet, my adoptive mother, Eleanor, threatened to freeze my brother's medical trust fund unless I attended the party to play the supportive sister.
Instead, I discovered Eleanor had been embezzling from my brother's life-saving fund to cover her own bad investments.
The nightmare worsened when a drunken Ryder cornered me in my apartment stairwell.
"Once I marry Tatum, Eleanor is giving me control of Liam's trust fund to buy out my father's board members."
He planned to drain my brother's medical money, dump Tatum, and keep me as his mistress.
For a decade, I suffered their abuse hoping for a shred of decency, only to realize they were plotting to leave my brother to die on the streets for corporate greed.
Calling the police wouldn't stop these billionaires. I needed absolute power.
Remembering the dark, predatory gaze of Jaren Jarvis—the ruthless billionaire who had watched me fight back at the party—I canceled my call to 911.
If they wanted to destroy my only family, I was going to use the devil himself to crush theirs.
8.5
I was engaged to Gorden Barron, fully believing I was about to marry the love of my life.
Then his secret lover, Bettye, was diagnosed with aplastic anemia. Gorden fell to his knees and begged me to be her bone marrow donor.
"Angie, I know I messed up, but she's dying. You're the only match."
I agreed, wanting to be the bigger person. But the moment the harvest was over, the nightmare began. A severe infection set in, and my fever wouldn't break. Gorden's visits became shorter, then stopped entirely.
As I lay in the sterile hospital room, my bones aching and my body failing, I scrolled through my phone and saw his latest post.
Gorden and Bettye were tanned and healthy, sipping cocktails on a yacht in the Mediterranean.
The caption read: "Grateful for second chances. My true love."
I threw my phone across the room and screamed until my throat bled. I was nothing but a human blood bag to them, completely discarded the moment I was empty. I nearly died in that cold room, saved only by a top-tier specialist someone secretly paid millions to fly in.
Five years later, I've finally returned to New York.
I didn't come back to get revenge on Gorden. He isn't worth my time.
I came back for the man who secretly held my hand and wept by my deathbed—Gorden's cold, untouchable older brother, Dalton.
This time, I'm going to make him mine.