A Contract Marriage With My Nemesis
My fiancé always told me he loved me. But not long after our engagement, I woke up suffocating in the dark.
He was pressing a pillow over my face, his eyes cold and dead, while my half-sister stood by watching with fake pity.
They had orchestrated everything just to steal my trust fund.
It all started with a massive hotel scandal. They had drugged me, thrown a cheap escort into my bed, and brought a mob of paparazzi to ruin my reputation.
When my fiancé broke through the crowd, playing the heartbroken victim, he knelt down with a massive diamond ring.
"I know things have been hard, but I love you. If you come home with me, I will forgive all of this."
In my past life, I cried tears of gratitude and let him slide that ring onto my finger.
That ring sealed my death warrant. I lost my company, my dignity, and eventually, my life.
Until my lungs burned and my heart stopped, I didn't understand.
How could the people I trusted most plot my murder so ruthlessly?
Why did they have to tear my entire life apart?
Opening my eyes again, I was back on the morning of the hotel scandal, exactly one year ago.
But the man lying bare-backed in my bed wasn't a random escort.
It was Johnathan Chase, my family's biggest corporate rival and the most ruthless predator on Wall Street.
Listening to the paparazzi pounding on the door, I smiled coldly.
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Chapter 7
Elena pulled back from the hug. She took a deep breath, smoothing her features back into a mask of professional calm. She grabbed her purse, and the two women took the private elevator straight down to the underground garage.
Elena drove her Porsche out of the city, heading toward a narrow, dimly lit alley in Soho. They stopped in front of a heavy iron door disguised as a bookshelf.
Elena pressed her thumb to the hidden scanner. The door clicked open, revealing a dark, narrow staircase.
They descended into the speakeasy. The air inside was thick, smelling heavily of expensive cigars and aged bourbon. Low, rhythmic jazz played through hidden speakers, creating a heavy, insulated atmosphere.
Elena navigated the dark room easily, leading Thea to a secluded, velvet-lined booth in the far back corner.
Before they even ordered, a bartender silently slid two custom dry martinis onto the table and vanished into the shadows.
Thea grabbed her glass and took a massive gulp, the alcohol burning down her throat as she tried to calm her racing heart.
Elena didn't touch her drink. She sat back, staring at Thea in the dim light. The memory of Haylee standing over Thea's bleeding body flashed behind Elena's eyes. A sharp ache gripped her chest, and the edges of her eyes burned. She quickly picked up her glass and took a sip, letting the cold liquid hide her emotions.
Thea lowered her glass. She noticed the redness in her boss's eyes. "Are you okay? Is the scandal getting to you?" she asked, her voice laced with genuine worry.
Elena shook her head. She set the glass down and looked Thea dead in the eye. "Thank you for not running away today."
Thea sat up straighter. "I work for you, Elena. I'm always on your side."
Elena unzipped her leather handbag. She pulled out a thick manila envelope and pushed it across the table.
Thea opened it. Her eyes scanned the legal document inside. Her jaw dropped.
It was a heavily drafted proxy voting agreement, alongside a new executive contract. The title listed at the top was Chief of Staff for the CEO, granting her full authority to act as Elena's proxy in all board decisions.
Elena took a silver pen from her bag and pressed it firmly into Thea's palm. "Sign it."
"Elena, I can't take this kind of power," Thea stammered, her hands shaking as she read the immense legal weight of the document.
"You are no longer just my assistant," Elena said, her voice leaving no room for argument. "I need an absolute loyalist with voting power on the board to execute my orders without hesitation. Sign it."
Thea's eyes filled with tears. She gripped the pen tightly and signed her name on the dotted line, permanently binding her fate to Elena's.
Elena took the document back. Her eyes instantly hardened, the brief moment of warmth vanishing. "Tomorrow morning, you are going to freeze the security clearances of three people."
She listed the names of the Chief Financial Officer, the VP of Operations, and the Head of Acquisitions.
Thea gasped. "They've been with the company for twenty years. If you fire them, the board will panic."
"They've been on Darron's payroll for three years," Elena said coldly. "They are bleeding the company dry."
She tapped her phone screen, sending a massive encrypted file to Thea's inbox. "All the proof of their kickbacks is in your email."
Before Thea could respond, a sudden shift in the room's energy made Elena look up.
There was a commotion at the entrance. The heavy door swung open.
Johnathan Chase stepped into the dim light. He was wearing a perfectly tailored black suit that clung to his broad shoulders. Four massive bodyguards trailed behind him.
His dark eyes swept the room like a radar, instantly cutting through the smoke and locking directly onto Elena's booth.
Elena's stomach tightened. Her eyebrows pulled together in a sharp frown. This speakeasy was an invite-only secret. But as Elena looked past his shoulder, she saw the usually arrogant bar manager bowing respectfully to him. Of course. The underground establishment was just another hidden asset quietly owned by Chase Capital. He hadn't tracked her; she had walked right into his territory.
Johnathan waved off the nervous bar manager who tried to approach him. He walked straight toward their corner, his long strides eating up the distance.
Thea felt the dangerous shift in the air. She immediately stood up, stepping in front of the table to block Johnathan's path.
Johnathan stopped in front of the booth. The sheer physical dominance radiating from him made Thea's breath catch in her throat.
He didn't even look at Thea. His eyes remained fixed on Elena, dark and unreadable.
"Tell your assistant to take a walk," Johnathan said, his voice a low, vibrating rumble that cut through the jazz music. "We have a deal to discuss."
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8.0
"IS IT TRUE?" Grayson's voice thundered through the room.
"Yes!" Tessa said softly. "Yes it is!"
"So you've been cheating on me, haven't you?" He spat.
Her hands trembled. "No, I swear, it's not like that."
He grabbed her arm, his grip bruising her wrist as she squealed in pain.
"Then whose baby are you carrying, huh?" His voice was ice cold.
Tessa shivered, tears blurring her vision.
"I don't know."
**********
Pregnant with the powerful Roman Blackwood's child, while engaged to his unstable stepbrother - Tessa Quinn becomes the key to a ruthless inheritance war where love has no place.
As secrets unravel and danger closes in, Tessa must protect her unborn child while trapped between love, vengeance, and men who want to own her fate.
9.7
Sienna woke up in a hospital room, her body screaming from a severe car accident. Through the glass, a man paced with violent rage, a dark shadow she felt absolutely nothing for.
Her friend Julia burst in, eyes bloodshot, dropping a bomb: "He didn't even try to help you." Dante, Sienna's fiancé, had protected another woman, Valeria, in the crash, leaving Sienna to burn alive.
Her past life unspooled – seven years sacrificed, an architecture degree abandoned, all to serve Dante. Her phone was a shrine to him: his photos, his "taboos," and even "Valeria's preferences," with no trace of Sienna herself.
But amnesia brought no heartbreak, only a cold, calculating fury. She felt disgust for the "idiot" she'd been, stripped of dignity. The memory loss was a release, a blank slate.
With chilling resolve, Sienna deleted every trace of Dante. Ripping out her IV, she declared, "The wedding proceeds." Not for love, but as a weapon: "I need to take back everything that belongs to me before I disappear."
9.0
My ex-husband returned after a three-year bet, ready to reclaim me and the son he thought was his. He had no idea that I'd secretly aborted his child, divorced him, and remarried the day he left. His world was about to come crashing down.
His delusion turned deadly when he and his manipulative best friend, Haylee, kidnapped my son, Leo.
I found them at his family's mansion, with Leo suffocating from a severe allergic reaction to a dog they were forcing him to play with. Elliot physically restrained me, scolding me for overreacting while Haylee giggled as my son turned blue.
At the hospital, as Leo fought for his life, Elliot grabbed my arm, demanding to know who the man standing beside me was. He was convinced this was all a game to make him jealous.
That's when my real husband, billionaire Gregory Morton, stepped forward.
"Since when is this child yours, Elliot?"
8.1
On my wedding day, the wedding planner looked at me with pity in her eyes.
She told me the groom had called with a last-minute request. He wanted the name on the floral arch changed from "Elena" to "Sofia."
Five years of loyalty to Dante Romero, and I found out he was planning a "secret" ceremony with his mistress an hour before ours.
He claimed she was dying of cancer. He said it was her final wish to be a bride, and that as a good mafia wife, I should understand. He swore it was just charity.
But I had seen the texts where he called me "furniture."
I had watched him step over my body when I fell down the stairs at a club, just so he could leave with her.
And this morning, I watched Sofia walk into the hotel lobby wearing *my* custom French lace wedding dress, smirking as she clung to his arm.
Dante thinks I'm crying in the bridal suite.
He thinks I will sit in the front row of his "fake" wedding and wait for my turn like a dutiful puppet.
He is wrong.
I wiped my tears and picked up my phone. I didn't cancel the wedding date. I just changed the location to the ballroom next door.
And I changed the groom.
As Dante says his vows to his mistress, I am walking down the aisle to meet the only man the Romero family fears.
The Reaper.
8.9
My family's company went bankrupt, and my biological father was lying in the ICU, kept alive by machines that cost tens of thousands a day.
I thought it was just a tragic business failure, until I caught my mother in bed with my stepfather.
They had secretly transferred all our assets months ago, deliberately bankrupting the company and leaving my father to die.
To pay the hospital bills, my stepfather forced me to a private club, trying to sell me to a sleazy investor.
When I refused, he slapped me across the face, and my mother just looked at me with cold, dead eyes.
"Be realistic, Jaelynn. A woman's body is a tool. Use it to get what you need."
Later, right before my father's emergency surgery, my stepfather signed a Do Not Resuscitate order and froze the medical accounts.
"If you don't get on your knees and spread your legs for him, I will tell the hospital to pull your father's plug."
Standing in the freezing rain, covered in mud and blood, I stared at the astronomical hospital bill in my hand.
My own family had plotted to murder my father and sell me to the highest bidder. The betrayal shattered every ounce of sanity I had left.
I didn't cry or beg them anymore.
Instead, I pulled out a water-stained, gold-embossed business card.
It belonged to Dolph Valentine, the most ruthless billionaire in New York and my ex-fiancé's uncle.
If they wanted to destroy my life, I was going to sell my soul to the biggest monster of them all and drag them straight to hell.
9.8
Three women, three brothers, a single, crumpled dollar bill.
Alina's world shatters the moment she's auctioned off-and claimed by the powerful Hawthorne brothers.
Thrown into Adrian Hawthorne's cold, dangerous world, she becomes his to control... his to protect... and, terrifyingly, his to desire. He's ruthless, possessive, and hiding secrets that could destroy them both. But the deeper she falls into his world, the harder it becomes to tell if she's his prisoner-or something far more dangerous.
Because the Hawthorne brothers don't just take.
They keep.
Viviane has spent her life surviving, so when Julian Hawthorne "buys" her freedom, she knows better than to trust it. Men like him don't save people-they collect them. But Julian isn't as simple as he pretends to be, and the deeper she's pulled into his world, the more dangerous it becomes to walk away.
Especially when she realizes she might be the only thing he's ever been willing to fight for.
Lena doesn't belong to anyone-and she intends to keep it that way. Brilliant, guarded, and hiding more than anyone suspects, she enters Lucien Hawthorne's world on her own terms. But Lucien doesn't play fair, and he doesn't let go.
When her past comes crashing back, Lena is forced to face the one thing she's been running from: trusting someone who could destroy her... or save her.
Three women. Three choices.Stay. Fight.
Or burn it all down.
Because being sold was only the beginning.