
Tipping The Billionaire: His Runaway Lover
Alida caught her boyfriend in bed with another woman, only to discover a frat house contract on his nightstand.
Her love and submission had been nothing but a fifty-thousand-dollar bet.
She extorted the check from him to pay for her dying father's surgery, then went to a club to drink away the brutal betrayal.
But her malicious stepsister secretly drugged her drink, planning to sell her to an underground thug to pay off a debt.
Burning from the chemical mix and running on pure terror, Alida escaped into a VIP hallway and crashed straight into a wall of solid muscle.
Desperate and out of her mind, she slapped the fifty-thousand-dollar check against the handsome stranger's chest.
"I'm buying you for the night."
She had no idea the man she just bought was Jax Vaughn, the ruthless, untouchable billionaire tyrant of Wall Street.
The next morning, Alida fled the penthouse, leaving behind a single crumpled hundred-dollar bill and a humiliating note.
"Service fee. Average skills. Like an uncivilized beast."
Seven years later, Alida returned to New York, holding the hand of her genius seven-year-old son who possessed the exact same pitch-black eyes as the billionaire.
She thought her past was buried forever, safely hidden away from the monster she had insulted.
But her father's mounting medical bills forced her to accept a high-paying executive interview at Vaughn Enterprises.
In the middle of the grand lobby, she stepped right into a familiar, terrifying chest.
Jax Vaughn's iron grip locked onto her wrist, recognizing her scent instantly, his eyes burning with seven years of obsessive, murderous rage.
"You."
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Chapter 3
"Boss," the lead bodyguard said, his gun still trained on the alley thugs. "Should I throw her out?"
Alida couldn't hear him. The drug in her veins mutated from a sedative into a raging inferno. Her skin felt like it was on fire.
She twisted in Jax's grip, a soft, desperate whimper escaping her lips. She pressed her flushed cheek against his chest, seeking the cool silk of his shirt.
Jax's entire body went rigid. The muscles in his arms bunched under his suit jacket. His dark eyes darkened to the color of an abyss. He raised a single finger, silencing his bodyguard.
Alida blinked, trying to clear her vision. The man holding her was a blur of sharp angles and raw power.
Her drug-addled brain tried to make sense of the situation. VIP hallway. Handsome man. Strong hands.
She reached up. Her trembling fingers slid over the lapel of his jacket, pressing flat against the hard muscle of his chest. "You feel... so good," she mumbled.
The bodyguards around them sucked in a collective breath. No one touched the tyrant of Wall Street. No one.
She fumbled with the zipper of her purse. Her fingers were clumsy, but she managed to pull out the folded piece of paper. The personal check. Fifty thousand dollars.
She slapped the paper flat against Jax's chest.
"I'm buying you," she slurred, her words running together. "Best escort in the club. You're going to take care of me tonight."
The silence in the hallway became absolute. It was a heavy, suffocating quiet.
Jax looked down at the piece of paper pressed against his chest. A muscle feathered in his jaw. The vein at his temple throbbed.
He reached up and grabbed her chin. His long fingers dug into her soft skin, forcing her head up.
"Do you have any idea," Jax whispered, his voice a lethal, silken threat, "who you are talking to?"
The pressure on her jaw hurt. Alida frowned. Driven by the chemical fire in her blood and the sheer frustration of the night, she pushed up on her tiptoes.
She clamped her teeth down on his lower lip and bit him. Hard.
The metallic taste of his blood rushed into her mouth.
The last thread of Jax's legendary control snapped.
He let out a low growl. His hand moved from her chin to the back of her neck, his fingers twisting into her hair. He crushed his mouth against hers, turning the bite into a punishing, brutal kiss.
Alida gasped, her knees buckling completely. She melted against him, surrendering to the overwhelming sensory overload.
Jax broke the kiss. He bent down and scooped her up into his arms, carrying her bridal style.
"Lock down the private elevator," Jax ordered his men, his voice harsh and ragged. "No one comes up."
He strode toward the end of the hall. Alida's hands roamed over his shoulders, her fingers clumsily tugging at the knot of his silk tie.
The elevator doors slid open. Jax carried her inside.
When the doors opened again, they were in the penthouse. Jax kicked the double doors shut behind them with a slam that shook the walls.
He walked into the master bedroom and threw her onto the massive King-size bed.
Alida bounced on the mattress. She writhed, clawing at the collar of her dress. "It's so hot," she cried, tears of frustration leaking from her eyes.
Jax stood over her, his chest heaving. He yanked his tie completely off.
"You asked for this," he said, his voice dark with a primal hunger.
He grabbed her wrists, pulling them above her head, and wrapped his silk tie around them, binding her hands to the heavy wooden headboard.
Alida didn't fight him. The drug demanded release. She arched her back, offering herself to the fire.
Jax stripped off his jacket. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the Manhattan skyline glittered like crushed diamonds. Inside, the temperature was boiling.
He came down over her, a predator claiming his prey.
When the initial pain hit, Alida gasped, a single tear slipping down her temple. But the pain was instantly swallowed by a tidal wave of heat. The penthouse disappeared, leaving only the sensation of his skin against hers, until the darkness finally took her.
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9.7
I ran through the freezing rain, desperate to escape the Pennington estate. My adoptive family had raised me for one purpose: to be sold off as a bargaining chip in a wealthy arranged marriage.
But before I could reach the highway, I was cornered. Not just by my family's cruel guards, but by Hollis Wall—a terrifying, ruthless billionaire who snapped my tormentor's wrist and dragged me into his car. He didn't want a ransom. He threw a prenuptial agreement in my lap.
I thought he was insane until he took a scalpel to his own arm, and a burning agony ripped across my flawless skin. Because of a near-drowning accident three years ago, our nervous systems were linked. Every time I bled, he felt the agony. He locked me in his fortress to keep me safe, but when I finally escaped back to my adoptive parents, they didn't protect me. Instead, my adoptive father smiled and showed me a live video of my biological father on life support, a guard's hand hovering over the plug.
"You will marry Douglas Cherry tomorrow, or your father dies," he sneered.
My own family was willing to murder my only real flesh and blood just to secure their wealth. I collapsed onto the cold marble floor, my heart crushed in a vice of absolute, suffocating despair.
"I'll marry him," I sobbed, surrendering to the darkness.
But miles away, in his dark study, the ruthless Hollis Wall violently collapsed to the floor, gasping for air as my severe panic attack bled directly into his chest. Our twisted bond was killing him, and I knew he would tear the city apart to find me.

8.4
Cari Butler woke up in a damp, smelly dorm room, realizing she had transmigrated into the body of a disgraced fake daughter who had just been kicked out of a wealthy family.
Before she could even process her reality, the real daughter's friends kicked her door open to mock her, flaunting a custom Tiffany necklace that supposedly cost a mere eighty cents.
Cari thought they were crazy, until she saw the news: a top Manhattan mansion had just sold for a record-breaking $3,500.
The entire world's currency value had shrunk by ten thousand times!
This meant the original owner's bank balance of $854,000 gave Cari the purchasing power of eight and a half billion dollars.
But a mysterious system froze her funds, forcing her to work demeaning gig jobs to unlock the money bit by bit.
While working as a hotel server for twenty cents a day, she caught her ex-boyfriend kissing up to the real daughter, mocking Cari for being a desperate beggar.
Even her snobby roommates laughed at her, claiming she couldn't afford a ten-cent iPhone.
What truly angered Cari wasn't the humiliation, but receiving a five-cent transfer from her poor biological brother, who was starving himself just to keep her fed.
Yet, the system strictly forbade her from giving her unlocked billions directly to her family.
Looking at the restrictive system and the arrogant elites who thought they owned the city, Cari's eyes turned icy cold.
"If I can't just hand them the cash,"
Cari sneered, pulling out her phone to outright buy the luxury hotel and fire everyone who wronged her.
"Then I will just buy the entire world and place it at their feet."

9.0
Once a pampered princess, Alaina now clutched a deactivated American Express card, staring out at Central Park. Her family’s fortune was gone, her life, over.
Her family's Hamptons estate, a four-generation legacy, was seized by Dyer Capital. The name hit her: Hardin Dyer, the poor boy she’d once scorned, had returned.
Hardin marched in, serving a divorce agreement. He'd orchestrated her family's downfall for revenge, giving her 24 hours to vacate his property. Penniless, her father faced prison, needing $50 million. Her mother forced her to beg Hardin, who sneered, offering the money for her body. Alaina ripped up the contract.
Hours later, her father had a heart attack. Desperate, she became "Lexi," a club girl enduring humiliation. In the Viper Room, Hardin's lackeys demanded she lick whiskey off his shoe for $10,000. Hardin watched. Outside, her brother Ashton's hand was threatened for a $3 million debt. Spirit shattered, Alaina returned, knelt on broken glass, offering to sign. But Hardin declared her family "dead," offering $10 million for her body, commanding her to use her mouth.
In a furious act of defiance, Alaina threw whiskey in his face, snatched the check, and fled. Yet, when he finally took her, a searing, foreign pain and blood on the sheets revealed a shocking truth: he had never touched her three years ago. Why had he let her believe such a monstrous lie?

8.8
On the eve of my glamorous Waldorf Astoria wedding, I went to the penthouse to surprise my fiancé, Hugh, wearing my late mother's heirloom pearls.
Instead, I heard my stepsister's familiar laugh and caught them tangled together on the sofa.
Through the cracked door, I heard Hugh slur that he was only marrying me for my family's financial backing.
"As soon as I secure my inheritance, she's the first thing I'm getting rid of," he promised her.
Floy giggled and asked for my mother's pearl necklace, my only legacy. Hugh agreed without hesitation, mocking my dead mother's naivety and my desperate dreams of building a family.
Every sweet word he had ever said was a lie, a knife he had been patiently sliding between my ribs for years. They planned to strip me of everything the moment I signed the prenup.
I didn't cry or scream. The crushing weight of their betrayal hollowed me out, leaving behind a terrifying, absolute calm.
Why should I be the one to lose everything while they stole my future and insulted my mother's memory?
I calmly walked down the hall, set the prenuptial agreement on fire, and vanished into the rainy night.
If Hugh wanted to play dirty for the Maxwell empire, I would play for keeps.
Using a forgotten, century-old family covenant, I was going to marry Hugh's uncle-the comatose, paralyzed war hero, Fleet Maxwell.
I would return not as a naive bride, but as their worst nightmare: his aunt, and the new lady of the house.

9.3
He was supposed to be my brother. The cold CEO everyone feared. The man who controlled the entire country's business world.
But one night, he looked at me and calmly destroyed everything I thought I knew.
"We're getting married."
I laughed, but he didn't.
Now every door in my life is closing, every choice is disappearing, and the one man I'm not supposed to love refuses to let me go.
Because to Lucien Hale, this was never forbidden. It was inevitable.
And the most terrifying part? The closer I get to him, the harder it becomes to run.

9.5
Banished for seven years.
Aubree returns to the Hopkins family, only to be despised and cast aside like trash.
Her twin brother bribes her to leave. Her stepsister frames her as a monster.
Her arrogant fiancé wants her ruined, caged, and erased forever.
They think she's a helpless country outcast.
They don't know she's the dark web's most ruthless hacker and strategist.
She doesn't beg. She doesn't cry.
She strikes a deal with Wall Street's deadliest tycoon.
Crush the Prescotts. Ruin her enemies.
She's back to take everything they stole.