
Under The Opulent Roof
When Elena Blake becomes a housemaid in the cold, grand Harrington mansion, she expects nothing more than long hours and strict rules.
What she doesn't expect is him-
Adrian Harrington, the billionaire who has forgotten how to feel anything... until her trembling voice and stubborn courage slip beneath his armor.
He's cold.
He's broken.
He's forbidden.
Yet the longer Elena works beneath his roof, the more she becomes the one thing he can't ignore.
But the mansion keeps secrets.
A locked left wing.
A dead fiancée.
A jealous brother.
An arranged marriage Adrian cannot refuse.
And Elena?
She's just the housemaid-
the girl no one is supposed to see.
But Adrian sees her.
Wants her.
Would burn the world to keep her.
Until one night, a secret from the mansion's past threatens to tear them apart...
And Elena realizes:
loving a billionaire comes with a price she may not survive.
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Chapter 1
The mansion towered above her like a silent warning.
Elena Blake tightened her grip on her small travel bag, her palms damp with sweat as she stared at the sprawling black-glass structure. It was the kind of mansion built for kings, not for twenty-two-year-old girls who had never left the outskirts of Benford their entire life.
A cold wind swept through the driveway, carrying the scent of rain and something else-
danger.
Elena swallowed.
"This is just a job," she whispered to herself.
"A housemaid job. You need this. You have to do this."
Her mother's hospital bill flashed in her mind. The number was so high it made her stomach twist. She needed work-any work-and this was the first offer that didn't turn her away after seeing her CV.
But still... why did a billionaire need a live-in housemaid urgently? And why did the online advert disappear minutes after she applied?
Before she could think too long, the huge iron gate buzzed, slowly sliding open.
A tall man in a fitted black suit stepped out. Sharp jawline. Slick hair. Emotionless eyes.
He looked like a walking security system.
"You're the applicant?" he asked.
"Yes. Elena. Elena Blake." She stuttered.
He gave a stiff nod.
"I'm Mr. Adrian Harrington's personal aide. Follow me."
Her heart jumped.
Adrian Cole Harrington.
Tech billionaire. Cold. Reclusive. The man whose scandals and heartbreaks were whispered across tabloids like forbidden secrets.
Elena inhaled shakily and followed the aide through a manicured stone path leading toward two giant black doors.
The mansion swallowed her in silence.
Inside was even more intimidating-white marble floors, tall chandeliers dripping with crystals, and walls echoing with emptiness.
"Wait here," the aide said before disappearing behind a large oak door.
Elena stood alone.
Her shoes squeaked softly. Her breath trembled. She didn't belong here-anyone could see it. The gold and silver everywhere made her feel like a misplaced stain in someone else's world.
Maybe I shouldn't be here.
Before she could turn to leave, the air shifted-cold and sharp.
Someone was watching her.
She froze.
A man leaned against the glass staircase above, half in shadow. Dark hair. Darker eyes. Broad shoulders wrapped in an expensive black shirt rolled at the sleeves. His presence filled the room like a silent storm.
Adrian Cole Harrington.
Her breath stopped.
He descended the stairs slowly, each step echoing with a quiet authority that made her heart pound.
When he finally reached her, he didn't speak.
He simply stared-intensely, sharply-studying her like she was a puzzle he didn't remember buying.
"You're... the new housemaid?" he finally said, voice low and unreadable.
"Yes, sir," she whispered.
His eyes swept over her modest clothes, tired eyes, and trembling hands.
Not with lust.
Not with pity.
But with a calculating coldness that made her knees weak.
"You look fragile," he said.
"You won't last a week here."
Her throat tightened. "I-I need this job, sir."
He stepped closer, and she could smell him-rich cedar, cold night air, and control.
"Do you scare easily, Elena?" he asked softly.
Her lips parted. "N-No."
"Good," he murmured.
"Because in this house... fear keeps you safe."
The lights flickered. Somewhere deep in the mansion, a door slammed even though no one else seemed to be inside.
Adrian's eyes never left her.
"Welcome beneath my roof," he said quietly.
"You start tonight."
Elena exhaled shakily.
And just like that, her fate was sealed.
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7.6
To pay for her father's life support, Haleigh sold herself into a marriage with Fabian Blackburn, a ruthless billionaire in a deep coma.
But on her wedding day, she caught her boyfriend cheating with her stepsister, laughing about how they would steal the inheritance the second Fabian stopped breathing. Cornered and desperate, Haleigh secretly underwent IVF using her comatose husband's frozen sperm to secure the family trust.
Weeks later, a miracle happened. Fabian woke up.
But instead of gratitude, he treated her like trash. He threw annulment papers at her face, completely disgusted by the arranged marriage.
"If you try any dirty tricks to get pregnant, I will personally drag you to a clinic and have that bastard scraped out of you."
Terrified, Haleigh hid her positive pregnancy test and desperately tried to hack her way to enough cash to escape. But while using his computer, she accidentally opened a highly classified folder.
Inside was a medical file and a photo of a severely disabled girl who looked exactly like Fabian.
Before she could process it, Fabian walked in. Seeing the screen, his cold mask shattered into pure, unhinged madness. He lunged across the room, lifting her off the floor by her throat, completely ignoring her desperate gasps for air.
"Lock her in the basement," he roared to his guards. "No food. No water."
Curled on the freezing concrete, clutching her newly pregnant belly, Haleigh didn't understand what she had just seen that turned him into a murderous monster.
But she knew one thing: if she didn't escape this terrifying estate, both she and his unborn heir would die in the dark.

7.3
Elara Valente has lived her life under her father's control, a mafia princess trapped in luxury. But when she meets Luca, a humble baker who sees her for who she truly is, her world begins to change.
Secret meetings, stolen moments, and forbidden attraction ignite a slow-burning romance-but danger lurks at every turn. With a strict father, an arranged marriage, and watchful cousins, Elara must choose: follow her heart, or obey the world she was born into.

7.9
Valerie Ashford, a girl who had just turned twenty-one, was introduced by her father to his business associates at a grand party, where she met a frightening, cold-blooded man.
That man was none other than her father's business partner, the CEO of a major corporation. He was taken with Valerie and had wanted her from the moment he first laid eyes on her.
For Rovano Morvane, whatever he desired was absolute and he had to have it, even by the worst means possible.
That night Valerie vanished without a trace and Rovano became the prime suspect, yet the Ashford family could not prove their allegations.
"P-please, I don't want to die, sir..." Valerie whispered so softly that Rovano had to bend down even lower.
"Didn't you just say you didn't care whether you were kidnapped or not? So shut your mouth." Rovano ordered.
Cold, Valerie felt the other side of the folding knife pressed against her cheek.
Rovano was going to mark Valerie.
It felt like something was missing if Rovano didn't take out his psychopathic urges on someone.
And this time, for the first time, he wanted a girl: Valerie Ashford.
Would Valerie's life end here?

8.8
Bella Danvers aka Isabella Powell is a 20-year-old college student who encountered the hot and ruthless CEO of the Rinaldi Corporation, Gabriel Rinaldi. They had a forgetful one-night stand that took a turn for the worst. Will he be able to find her before he is forced into an arranged marriage? Will she be able to tell him the news? Or will they be forced apart?

7.4
Alaya woke up in the sterile hospital room to a devastating reality: her six-month-old baby was gone, lost in a horrific car crash.
But as the memories crashed into her, she realized she had been reborn. She was back three years before her ultimate death, back to the moment she remembered lying bleeding on the asphalt while her husband, Hardy, shielded his mistress from the freezing rain.
When Hardy finally showed up at the ward, he coldly dismissed the crash as a mere accident and immediately left to comfort his young lover. To make matters worse, Alaya secretly checked her medical files and found a terrifying detail: someone had intentionally slipped beta-blockers into her system, a lethal drug for her transplanted heart. And Hardy didn't care about her dead baby or her irreversible infertility. He only coldly confirmed with the doctor that her heart was still viable.
A horrifying suspicion made Alaya's blood run cold. Why was her husband so obsessed with protecting her transplanted heart while treating her like garbage? And why was his perfectly healthy mistress secretly racking up massive bills at an advanced cardiac hospital?
Realizing she was nothing but a vessel in a twisted, deadly game, Alaya didn't shed another tear.
She packed her belongings, left her flawless diamond wedding ring on the cold marble table, and vanished from their penthouse.
When Hardy finally tracked her down, she threw a thick stack of documents onto the table.
"Sign the divorce papers," she said, her eyes completely dead.

7.3
Tonight was supposed to be the night I became the happiest woman in D.C., celebrating my engagement at the legendary Bolton Manor gala. I wore emerald silk and a diamond that cost more than most mansions, convinced that Hank Bolton was my soulmate and the key to my family's future.
But behind the heavy oak doors of the guest wing, the dream died. I found my fiancé tangled with another woman, laughing about how I was nothing more than a "clueless cash cow" whose inheritance would fund his run for the Senate.
In my first life, I reacted with tears and screams, which only allowed his family to paint me as an unstable lunatic. They stripped me of my dignity, bankrupted the Adams estate, and watched coldly as my brother, Lucas, died in a ditch trying to save me. I ended up gasping for air in a burning building, realizing too late that my perfect engagement was actually my execution.
I died in the soot and the shadows, feeling the searing heat of a betrayal that burned worse than the fire. I lost everything because I was too blind to see the monsters hiding behind expensive smiles.
But then, I suddenly gasped for air and realized the smoke was gone. I was standing in front of a vanity, the calendar mocking me: October 14th. The night of the gala. I had been given a second chance, and this time, I wasn't going to be the victim.
I recorded the betrayal on my phone and walked into the library with a heart made of ice. I didn't just blow up the engagement; I demanded a new groom—Hank’s "invalid" older brother, Dereck, a man the world had written off as a dying recluse.
"I'll take him," I told the stunned family. I wanted a husband who couldn't cheat, a puppet who would leave me a wealthy widow within a year.
I thought I was choosing a safe, broken man to shield me from my enemies. I didn't know that under his blanket, Dereck was hiding a holster, or that the "dying" man was actually a predator who had been waiting for someone exactly like me to walk into his trap.