Wild Heiress, Tamed Billionaire
When I called my husband while trapped in a kidnapper's warehouse, he laughed. "Stop faking," he said, "my delicate mistress needs her sleep." He hung up. I signed the divorce papers drenched in my own blood, giving up everything just to escape the monster I married.
His mother threw a broken umbrella at me in the rain. I had nothing-no money, no identity, no hope.
But the moment I turned away, eight black Escalades encircled the street. A man in a tailored suit stepped out of a Rolls-Royce, shielding me with an umbrella. In his hand was a DNA test-and twenty-three years of relentless search.
"Your last name isn't Smith," he said, wiping blood from my wrist with his handkerchief. "It's Wilder. The Wilder family. And the man who left you to die?" He smiled, icy. "He owes us nine billion dollars."
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Chapter 7
Silence hung heavy in the receiving room.
Ethan tapped his fingers rapidly against his thigh, calculating the risk. "Absolutely not," he muttered.
Hubert crossed his arms. "She needs to heal. She does not need to deal with a shark like you."
Daxton did not look at her brothers. His eyes stayed locked on her, waiting.
She felt the weight of his stare. Her mind flashed to Joaquin's arrogant face, to Julianne throwing the broken umbrella at her feet. Dating the most powerful man in New York would be the ultimate social death sentence for the Stafford family.
She lifted her chin and smiled coldly. "Deal."
Carter gasped loudly. Bennett nearly dropped his teacup.
A flash of dark satisfaction lit up Daxton's eyes. He closed the distance between them in two long strides. He reached out and took her hand.
He bowed his head and pressed his lips just above her knuckles. His mouth barely grazed her skin, but the heat of his breath sent a violent shiver up her arm.
She yanked her hand back. Her heart skipped a beat.
Daxton straightened up. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a black velvet box.
"This was meant as an apology gift for breaking the contract," Daxton said softly. "Now, it is just a hello."
She opened the box. Resting on the black silk was a flawless, unheated pigeon-blood ruby necklace.
Her gaze locked onto the heavy pendant, her professional instincts immediately taking over. She recognized the deep, unheated saturation and the distinct, meticulous facets of an antique 1920s European cut. It was an absolute masterpiece of historical jewelry making, entirely priceless.
Before she could say no, Daxton stepped behind her. He brushed her hair aside and fastened the heavy platinum clasp around her neck.
His warm fingertips dragged slowly across her bare nape. Her stomach tightened.
Declan marched over and shoved Daxton back by the shoulder. "Back off. Keep your distance."
Daxton raised his hands in mock surrender. He nodded to her parents. "I will pick Kinsley up tomorrow evening for dinner."
He turned and walked out, his presence leaving a heavy vacuum in the room.
The second the door closed, all four of her brothers surrounded her.
"Are you crazy?" Ethan yelled, pulling up Daxton's ruthless corporate takeover history on his phone. "He destroys people for fun!"
She touched the cold ruby resting against her collarbone. "Relax. I am just using him to ruin my ex-husband. I will not fall for him."
Upstairs, Amiyah stared at the glowing red jewel around Kinsley's neck.
Her chest heaved with toxic jealousy.
She retreated to her bedroom, locked the door, and pulled out a burner phone.
She dialed the number of a sleazy tabloid journalist. She was going to leak the story of Kinsley's pathetic foster background and her divorce.
Meanwhile, in Manhattan, Joaquin stood in his office at Stafford Holdings. He was sweating.
His assistant ran into the room, holding an iPad. "Sir, our stock is plummeting. A massive, untraceable fund is shorting us across the board."
Joaquin ripped his tie loose. "Which competitor is doing this?" he screamed. He had no idea the Wilder family was already crushing him.
Ember walked in carrying a cup of herbal tea. She leaned her fragile body against his chest. "Do not stress, baby. You are so smart, you will fix it."
Joaquin kissed her forehead. He thought of Kinsley, convinced she was currently starving in an alley. "I will crush whoever is doing this. Just like I crushed Kinsley."
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7.2
After a one night stand with the woman whose house Jason broke into, his life has never been the same. Like a siren's call, he can't get the nymphomaniac woman off his mind. Weeks later, while getting intel for the crew's next heist, Jason lays eyes upon the woman and follows her into a secret strip club. She appears to lead a double life. One where she's the CEO of a multimillion company and her father's golden child. The other side of her life is that she owns a strip club and is extremely erotic. Can Jason learn to live with her as she is? Will he put his pride aside to be with the woman? ... especially when his crew is hired to kidnap a woman who turns out to be the love of his life.
7.4
Evelina Barrett was the legitimate daughter, yet she was framed for a disgusting sex scandal, expelled from the Ivy League, and locked out of her late mother's massive trust fund.
While she was thrown out to rot on the streets with a jagged, hideous red scar covering half her face, her father and step-family were throwing a lavish charity gala to celebrate her total ruin.
They laughed as they officially published her disownment notice in the Times to cut her off forever.
"Without the school halo, that ugly freak will be begging on the streets by tomorrow," her sister Aspen sneered.
Her stepmother Annabella toasted to taking out the trash, perfectly happy to steal Evelina's inheritance while ignoring the fact that Evelina knew exactly how they had murdered her mother.
For years, Evelina had been locked in a dark basement, abused by bodyguards, and treated worse than a stray dog.
Why should she, the true heir, suffer in the gutter while the leeches who destroyed her life enjoyed the wealth that rightfully belonged to her?
She refused to be their victim anymore.
Washing away her fake scar to reveal her true, breathtaking face, Evelina blackmailed New York's most lethal billionaire into marriage to secure the ultimate shield.
Then, she put on a black mourning dress, ordered a dark web ghost crew, and climbed into a heavy semi-truck.
At exactly 6:00 PM, she smashed through the iron gates of her family's elegant gala, delivering three pure black coffins directly to the lawn.
8.4
Everly spent four years playing the perfect, accommodating wife to Carson Moss, swallowing every grievance just to secure medical treatments for their sick daughter.
But at a high-society banquet she exhausted herself organizing, Carson's pregnant mistress crashed the party.
The woman shoved an ultrasound of Carson's "real heir" directly into Everly's frail grandfather's face.
The shock triggered a massive heart attack.
Carson refused to use his private helicopter to save the dying old man, choosing to protect his mistress and his company's IPO instead. Her grandfather died on the hospital table.
Instead of remorse, her mother-in-law demanded Everly publicly cover up the murder.
"You will do exactly as I say, or I will freeze every single cent of the medical trust fund paying for your crippled daughter's treatments."
When a battered Everly returned to the estate, she discovered her three-year-old daughter covered in dark bruises and pinch marks. Her in-laws were deliberately torturing her disabled child.
Everly couldn't comprehend how a family could be so utterly heartless. Her only family was murdered, her child was abused, and her husband threw a five-million-dollar check at her face as hush money.
They thought she would just break and quietly disappear.
But when a terrifyingly powerful billionaire unexpectedly blocked Carson's security team from locking her up, Everly finally saw her window.
She grabbed her sleeping daughter and ran out into the freezing storm, making a blood-bound vow to make the entire Moss family bleed.
7.3
I woke up in a sweltering attic, my body covered in overlapping whip scars.
I was Alice Morrow, a top-tier occultist, but now I was trapped in the body of a girl who served as a human punching bag for the wealthy Wallace family.
Before I could even catch my breath, my adoptive sister Britney Wallace kicked the door open.
She pointed a silver revolver right at my forehead.
She had been siphoning my luck through a parasitic karmic tether, using me as a sink for all her misfortune.
"Go to hell, you useless freak," she screamed, pulling the trigger.
But she didn't know the absolute rule of the tether: any malicious attack reflects back to the sender.
The massive recoil blasted backward, snapping her wrist in half.
I walked out of that hellhole and was found by my biological family, the incredibly powerful Morrows.
But Britney wasn't done. She sent them deepfake photos to frame me for cursing them, and even planted a deadly amulet to kill my biological grandfather.
My own uncle threw the photos at me, his eyes full of disgust.
"She's a rabid dog raised by the Wallaces! She's been cursing her own blood!"
I didn't argue. I simply rolled up my sleeves to reveal the mangled flesh, burn marks, and protruding bones the Wallaces had left me with.
As my real family broke down in tears of agonizing guilt, I smiled and gripped my ancient copper coin.
It was time to show the Wallaces what real karma looked like.
9.6
I woke up alone in a cold hospital room after a near-fatal car crash.
My husband of three years, Bryant, claimed he was too busy with back-to-back meetings to visit me.
But when I dragged my bruised body into the hallway, I caught him pinning his pregnant mistress against a vending machine.
"As soon as my company IPOs next month, I'm dumping my useless wife."
"She's so pathetic. She'd be living on the streets if it wasn't for my charity."
For three years, Bryant and his mother had humiliated me for being an orphan, treating me like a penniless burden while he secretly bought a multi-million-dollar townhouse for his new family.
A cold knot formed in my stomach. I had almost died in that wreckage, yet my husband was disgusted by my very existence, eagerly waiting to throw me away.
But Bryant didn't know about the damp, sealed envelope the paramedics had recovered from my wrecked car.
The DNA report inside proved I wasn't a nobody from the gutter.
I was the biological daughter of the Beaumonts—New York's wealthiest, most ruthless billionaire dynasty.
I didn't scream or confront them.
Instead, I calmly pulled out my phone, recorded their affair in high definition, and dialed a Wall Street financier I hadn't spoken to in years.
"I'm done playing the happy housewife. Pull his algorithmic backdoors and drain the accounts."
9.5
After being locked in a mental institution for two years, Arlie was finally brought back to the Mccormick estate.
But her billionaire husband, Killian, didn't bring her home out of guilt or love. He handed her a cold surrogacy contract.
Her biological son, Julian, now looked at her with terror, calling her a monster while clinging to Kaelynn—the very mistress who had framed Arlie and stolen her life.
Killian froze Arlie's assets, locked her in a high-rise penthouse, and threatened to send her back to the asylum forever if she refused to undergo IVF.
He claimed they desperately needed a new baby's umbilical cord blood to cure Julian's terminal illness.
But Arlie secretly contacted her doctor and uncovered a horrifying truth.
The experimental gene therapy she had received years ago meant any attempt at pregnancy would trigger a fatal organ shutdown.
Killian didn't care if the procedure killed her in agony; he just wanted to use her as a disposable breeding machine to harvest a "spare part."
Watching the media brand her a selfish mother who wanted her son to die, the last trace of the obedient wife vanished.
Arlie pulled out a hidden satellite phone and dialed a number she hadn't used in years.
"Ronan, it's Li," she said coldly. "Wipe my name from their servers and prepare a full-scale assault. It's time to destroy them."