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The Tycoon's Contract With A Vicious Beauty Novel Cover

The Tycoon's Contract With A Vicious Beauty

My husband Hubert threw a stack of faked, compromising photos at my bleeding face. He crushed my hand under his leather shoe and threatened our five-year-old son's life, forcing me to sign away my company shares and full custody. Then, my younger sister Ara walked into the room, stepping carefully to avoid my blood, and kissed my husband deeply. "You really are a stupid stepping stone, Amelie. I paid a lot of money to have those photos photoshopped." She sneered at me, admitting she had orchestrated everything just to steal my fashion brand and my life. Before I could fight back, Ara injected a paralytic directly into my neck. They stuffed me into a duffel bag and dumped me in the freezing mud of a secluded hunting estate. Ara waved a forged suicide note in my face, claiming I had drowned myself out of shame, before giving her bodyguard a sharp nod. Three massive, starving mastiffs were released from their cages. As the dogs tore through my flesh and crushed my bones, Hubert watched my bloody massacre live on a video call. In my final seconds of agonizing pain, a blinding hatred locked into my dying brain. I didn't understand why the two people I loved most would torture me so ruthlessly, but I made a venomous vow. If I ever come back, I will make you both drown in your own blood. Opening my eyes again, I wasn't dead in the mud. I had awakened in the young body of a girl named Gena, and fate had just dropped the perfect weapon for my revenge right into my lap: Hubert's ruthless billionaire uncle.
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Chapter 5

Gena supported Claudio's heavy frame as they stumbled out from beneath the fire escape and onto the edge of a commercial street.

The police sirens wailed two blocks away, the red and blue lights reflecting off the wet asphalt. The tension in the air was thick enough to choke on.

Claudio's breathing grew ragged. Blood loss was making his legs give out. He leaned heavily against Gena, his weight pressing down on her thin shoulders.

Gena gritted her teeth, scanning the empty street for a cab or a place to hide.

Suddenly, a black Range Rover sped around the corner and slammed on its brakes, the tires shrieking against the wet pavement. It stopped ten feet in front of them.

The doors flew open. Mitch, with a bloody bandage wrapped around his forehead, jumped out. Two massive, muscle-bound enforcers stepped out behind him, gripping wooden baseball bats.

Mitch pointed a thick finger at Gena. "There's the little bitch! Break her legs and throw her in the trunk!"

Gena's stomach plummeted. She cursed under her breath. Her muscles instinctively tensed, preparing to run, but she knew she couldn't outrun two thugs while dragging a bleeding man.

Claudio felt her panic. He forced himself to stand straight, pulling his weight off her. His dark eyes locked onto Mitch and his men, his expression turning to pure ice.

The enforcers stepped forward, backing Gena and Claudio against the glass window of a closed coffee shop.

Gena's brain spun. She had a split second to act. She spun around and threw her arms around Claudio's waist, burying her face into his chest.

"Baby!" Gena cried out, forcing her voice to tremble with fake terror. "These are the men who tried to kidnap me!"

Claudio's body went completely rigid. He looked down at the girl clinging to him, a flash of pure shock crossing his face before he instantly understood the play.

Mitch stopped in his tracks at the word "baby." He narrowed his eyes, taking in the sight of the tall man. Despite the blood and mud, the bespoke suit and the arrogant posture screamed money.

Claudio didn't miss a beat. He lifted his right arm and wrapped it securely around Gena's shoulders, pulling her tight against his side.

His eyes turned dead and hollow. He looked at Mitch with the absolute disdain of a king looking at a cockroach. "You want to touch my woman?" he asked, his voice low and lethal.

Mitch shifted his weight uncomfortably, intimidated by the stare. But he puffed out his chest. "She owes me money. She's my property."

Claudio let out a dark, mocking laugh. He reached into his pocket with his free hand and pulled out a solid metal Black Centurion Card bearing the Pierce family crest. He held it loosely between his index and middle finger.

Claudio's sharp eyes caught the edge of a crude falcon tattoo peeking out from beneath Mitch's bloody shirt collar. "You work for the Falcone family out of Brooklyn," Claudio said, casually dropping the name of Mitch's mob boss. "Tell Jimmy Falcone that Claudio Pierce said to back the fuck off."

Mitch's face drained of all color. The moment he heard his boss's name and the name 'Pierce,' his tough-guy act crumbled into dust. He knew exactly who the Pierce family was.

Claudio leaned forward slightly, the physical threat radiating off him. "I'm giving you ten seconds to get out of my sight, or your entire operation burns to the ground by morning."

Cold sweat broke out on Mitch's upper lip. He stared at the Black Card, then at Claudio's cold eyes. He swallowed hard, took a step back, and bowed his head.

"My apologies, Mr. Pierce. We didn't know," Mitch stammered. He waved frantically at his men. The three of them scrambled back into the Range Rover and sped off into the night.

Gena watched the taillights disappear. The adrenaline left her body in a rush. She let out a long, shaky breath and stepped back from Claudio's chest.

The moment the threat was gone, Claudio's arrogant posture collapsed. He let out a sharp groan of pain and slid down the glass window, hitting the pavement hard.

Gena dropped to her knees and grabbed his shoulders to keep him from falling flat.

Claudio looked up at her, a weak smirk on his pale lips. "Nice acting. We're even now."

Gena knew he was going to bleed out if she didn't get him off the street. She pulled out the car keys she took from Mitch and pressed the unlock button. An old, beat-up Honda Civic parked at the corner flashed its lights.

Gena dragged Claudio up and shoved him into the passenger seat of the Honda. She got behind the wheel, slammed her foot on the gas, and drove toward Flushing. She let out a cold, calculating breath. The most dangerous place was the safest place. Neither Mitch's thugs nor whoever shot Claudio would ever expect them to hide out in the filthy apartment of the two parasites who had just sold her. Her adoptive parents' apartment was the only place she could think of to hide a billionaire.

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