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.
Chapters
Share
Chapter 8
Elena reached out and placed a firm hand on Thea's tense back. She gave a subtle nod toward the bar. Thea hesitated, glaring at Johnathan, but eventually stepped aside and walked away, leaving them alone.
Johnathan didn't wait for an invitation. He sat down on the velvet sofa opposite Elena. He crossed his long legs, leaning back with an infuriatingly relaxed posture.
He rested his arm on the table, his long, elegant fingers tapping a slow, rhythmic beat against the wood. Tap. Tap. Tap.
Elena glared at him. "Leaking that photo was a cheap, dirty trick, Johnathan."
Johnathan didn't get angry. Instead, a low, dark chuckle vibrated in his chest. A dangerous glint flashed in his deep eyes. "I never claimed to play clean, Elena."
He leaned forward. The physical distance between them vanished. The scent of his woodsy cologne and raw, masculine heat washed over her, making her skin prickle with an involuntary, frustrating awareness.
"Darron's little apology tour tomorrow might stop the bleeding," Johnathan said softly, his eyes locked on her lips. "But it won't fix your stock price. Your investors are spooked."
Elena's fingers curled tightly around her martini glass. Her knuckles turned white. He was right, and it infuriated her.
She forced a cold smile. "And I suppose Chase Capital's stock is doing perfectly fine after being dragged into my mess?"
Johnathan's lips curved upward. He reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a folded term sheet-a concise, two-page summary of a massive legal proposal. He tossed it onto the table, sliding it toward her.
"Contract marriage," he said, the words falling from his lips like heavy stones.
Elena's breath hitched. Her eyes widened as she stared at the man known as the most ruthless predator on Wall Street.
She snatched the paper, her eyes scanning the bold text. It detailed a complete separation of personal assets, but a massive, public merger of their corporate voting rights.
"A marriage between our families is the only narrative strong enough to kill the scandal and force the market to rally," Johnathan explained, his voice smooth and calculated.
Elena let out a sharp, bitter laugh. She snatched the crisp pages, her hands moving with sudden violence as she ripped the term sheet cleanly in half, and then in half again, throwing the torn pieces hard against his chest.
"You think I'm stupid?" she hissed, leaning in, her eyes blazing with fury. "This is just your excuse to swallow my company whole without firing a single shot."
Johnathan's eyes instantly darkened. The relaxed amusement vanished. He reached across the table, his large hand clamping down around her wrist like a steel vice.
His palm was burning hot against her cold skin. The sudden physical contact sent a jolt of electricity straight to her heart, causing it to skip a beat.
"Do not mistake my offer for weakness, Elena," he warned, his voice dropping to a lethal, quiet register. "I have a dozen ways to break your company. I am offering you the easiest way out."
Elena didn't flinch. She leaned closer, her face inches from his, her eyes defiant. "Then break it. Let's see who bleeds out first."
They stared at each other, the air between them thick with a suffocating, violent tension. Neither of them blinked. Neither of them backed down.
Slowly, Johnathan's grip on her wrist loosened. He let her hand go. The corner of his mouth twitched into a dark, knowing smirk.
He stood up, adjusting his suit jacket, instantly regaining his towering, arrogant composure.
He looked down at her. "In three days, at your shareholder meeting, you are going to be begging me to sign that paper."
He turned and walked away, his broad back disappearing into the shadows of the bar.
Elena collapsed back against the sofa. Her chest heaved as she dragged in air. She looked down at her wrist. The skin was red, still tingling with the ghost of his heat.
Thea rushed back to the table. "What did he do? What did he say?"
Elena snatched the crumpled contract off the table and shoved it violently into her bag. She clenched her jaw.
"Get ready for war," Elena said, her voice trembling with adrenaline. "He is not taking my company."
You may also like
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.