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 2
The mansion was too quiet.
Not silent-quiet. The kind of quiet that carried weight, like the walls were holding their breath.
Elena clutched the hem of her new uniform as she followed Mrs. Marlene, the head housekeeper, through a long hallway lined with portraits of stern-looking men who all shared the same icy eyes.
Adrian Harrington's ancestors.
"The east wing is forbidden," Mrs. Marlene repeated for the third time. "No cleaning. No dusting. No opening of doors. No exceptions."
"I understand," Elena whispered.
"Good. Your sleeping quarter is here."
A narrow door creaked open to reveal a tiny room with a single bed, a small dresser, and a window that faced nothing but thick forest. It wasn't much, but Elena smiled gratefully. Anything was better than her mother screaming in pain at night with no money for her medication.
Mrs. Marlene sighed. "Elena... this house is not normal. Just do your job, stay out of trouble, and never-ever-try to interact with Mr. Harrington."
Elena swallowed.
"Is he that bad?"
Mrs. Marlene gave her a look that sent chills down her spine.
"Bad? No.
Worse."
Later that Night
Elena changed into her uniform and tied her hair into a neat bun. Her schedule said she was to clean the ground-floor study.
She tiptoed across the dark corridor, her slippers whispering against the marble. Every shadow felt alive, every corner seemed too silent. She had cleaned rich homes before, but never one that felt... haunted by memories.
As she reached the study, her hand hovered over the doorknob.
Don't interact with Mr. Harrington.
Avoid him at all costs.
He does not like people.
She took a slow breath and pushed the door open.
The Study
The room was massive-high ceilings, tall revolving bookshelves, glass walls overlooking the moonlit forest. The air smelled of cedar and expensive whiskey.
Elena stepped inside cautiously, grabbed her cleaning cloth, and moved toward the desk.
Then she froze.
Someone was already there.
Sitting in the shadows.
Staring at her.
Adrian Harrington
He sat behind the massive desk like he was part of the darkness itself. Only his eyes caught the light-cold, silver, unreadable.
Elena's breath hitched.
She had no idea he was home.
His voice was low, deep, and dangerous.
"How did you get in here?"
Elena's heart hammered. "I-I was assigned to clean the study tonight, sir."
"You didn't knock."
"I'm so sorry-"
"You should be." He stood slowly, and Elena realized how tall he was... how intimidatingly broad his shoulders were. "I don't tolerate noise. I don't tolerate mistakes. And I don't tolerate strangers wandering around my house like they belong."
Her throat tightened.
"I'm not wandering, sir. I'm just trying to do my job."
His gaze swept over her uniform, her trembling hands, the cloth she clutched like a shield.
"What's your name?"
"Elena."
"Elena..." he repeated softly, but the softness didn't reach his voice. "You're new."
"Yes, sir."
He stepped closer-only one step-but it was enough to make her back hit the bookshelf. The scent of cedar and cold wind clung to him, but what scared her more was the emptiness in his eyes.
"You will stay out of my way," he said quietly. "You will not enter any room unless you are told. And you will never come into this study again. Understand?"
Elena nodded quickly. "Yes, sir."
He watched her a moment longer, as if testing her fear.
Then he turned away.
"You can go."
Elena practically fled the room, her heart racing so hard she felt dizzy.
As she reached the empty hallway, she let out a trembling breath.
She had only met him for five minutes.
And already, she understood why everyone feared him.
But as she walked back to her room, she could still feel his gaze-cold and haunted-burning into her skin.
And she couldn't shake the feeling that this house...
and the man inside it...
held secrets that were going to swallow her whole.
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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.