Bound By Contract: The Superstar's Secret Wife
Allyson was the most hated actress in Hollywood, forced to wear a cheap, tearing gown after America's sweetheart, Joanne, stole her S-tier role.
During a red carpet disaster, Allyson tripped and fell—straight into the arms of the untouchable megastar, Byron Estes.
The internet exploded, accusing Allyson of faking the fall to seduce him. Drowning in bad press and desperate to pay her agency's termination fee, she signed a reality TV contract. She was forced to play the desperate, clingy villain, acting as a pathetic stepping stone for Joanne and Byron's highly anticipated on-screen romance.
"You could throw yourself at Byron a hundred times, and you'd still never make it into his bed," Joanne mocked.
What Joanne and the furious public didn't know was that three years ago, when Byron was in a horrific crash, Joanne had abandoned him. It was Allyson who stayed.
Even more absurd? Allyson and Byron were actually secretly married, bound by a multi-million dollar NDA.
Determined to play her villainous role and get paid, Allyson memorized a book of cringe-inducing pickup lines, ready to disgust her secret husband on live television.
"The stars are in the sky. But you... are in my heart."
She expected the ice-cold superstar to push her away in disgust. Instead, when another male guest got too close to her, Byron completely shattered his untouchable facade, his eyes burning with a lethal, undeniable possessiveness that sent the internet into absolute chaos.
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Chapter 2
Allyson's palms were pressed flat against the hard plane of Byron's chest. She could feel the steady, heavy thud of his heartbeat through his dress shirt.
Her face burned. The heat radiated down her neck.
The rapid-fire clicking of the cameras sounded like a firing squad. They were capturing every millimeter of this disaster.
"Let me go," Allyson whispered, her voice trembling.
Byron looked down at her. A dark, suppressed emotion flickered in the depths of his eyes. His jaw clenched, the muscle ticking visibly under his skin.
Slowly, agonizingly, his fingers uncurled from her waist.
Allyson took a step back. A sudden gust of wind swept across the carpet.
The broken zipper on the back of her cheap dress finally gave out completely. The cold air hit her bare spine. She shivered violently, her hands flying to her back to hold the fabric together.
Byron's eyebrows pulled together in a sharp frown.
Without a single second of hesitation, he reached up and shrugged off his custom, priceless suit jacket.
The crowd gasped, the sound loud and sharp.
Byron stepped forward and draped the heavy jacket over Allyson's trembling shoulders. The fabric was still warm from his body. The scent of cedar wrapped around her like a physical embrace.
Joanne stood ten feet away, her perfectly manicured nails digging so hard into her palms that they nearly drew blood. Her face was a mask of pure jealousy.
The reporters surged forward like sharks smelling blood in the water. They shoved their microphones over the velvet ropes, practically hitting Allyson in the face.
"Allyson! Was this a calculated stunt to get his attention?" a reporter screamed, his voice dripping with venom.
All the blood drained from Allyson's face. The multi-million dollar penalty clause of their secret marriage contract screamed in her head. If she exposed them, she would be ruined forever.
She forced her lips to stretch into a wide, painfully fake smile. She took another half-step back, creating a physical distance between her and Byron.
She bowed deeply to the cameras. "Not at all. Mr. Estes is just a highly respected senior colleague who was kind enough to help a clumsy junior."
The air around Byron instantly dropped ten degrees.
He didn't say a word to contradict her. He just slowly turned his head and locked his eyes on the reporter who had asked the question.
The look in Byron's eyes was lethal. It was a silent, suffocating threat.
The reporter swallowed hard and instinctively took a step back, the microphone lowering in his shaking hand.
Byron's security team finally broke through the chaos, forming a physical wall between the stars and the press.
Allyson pulled the oversized jacket tighter around herself. She kept her head down and practically ran toward the end of the carpet, fleeing the flashing lights.
Byron stood perfectly still, watching her retreating figure until she disappeared into the shadows. Only then did he turn and walk into the venue.
As soon as Allyson reached the dark corner near the exit, Hollie grabbed her arm and yanked her into the waiting Lincoln.
The heavy car door slammed shut. The silence inside the cabin was deafening. Allyson let out a shaky breath, her chest heaving.
Hollie stared at the men's jacket draped over Allyson. Her eyes scanned the fabric like an x-ray machine.
"Do you have any idea what you just did?" Hollie grabbed her own hair, looking crazed. "This PR nightmare is going to end your career!"
Allyson slowly slid the jacket off her shoulders. She hugged it to her chest, her fingertips mindlessly stroking the expensive wool.
Hollie leaned in close, her eyes narrowing. "You signed that NDA three years ago. Who the hell is this secret husband of yours? Is he a mobster? A politician?"
Allyson's heart skipped a beat. She looked at Hollie, a bitter, reckless urge rising in her chest.
She offered a casual shrug. "Actually, my secret husband is Byron Estes. The guy on the red carpet."
Hollie stared at her for two full seconds.
Then, Hollie threw her head back and let out a loud, barking laugh. "Right. And I'm married to the President. Stop making sick jokes and help me draft an apology statement."
Allyson watched her manager laugh. She forced a bitter smile onto her own lips and turned her head to look out the dark window.
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8.5
"You don't get to hurt me and then make me responsible for how guilty you feel about it."
"Friends don't stand next to you, learn everything about you, and then use it to get close to the one person they know matters."
Aria thought she knew two things for certain: she was going to graduate with her best friend, Iris, by her side, and she was in love with her boyfriend, Liam.
One kiss changed everything. But as the secrets of their "before" come to light, Aria realizes the betrayal didn't start at a party or in a moment of weakness. It started weeks ago, in the conversations she wasn't part of and the moments she wasn't invited to.
Now, Aria has to decide if she can find herself again in the wreckage of the people she trusted most-or if some bridges are meant to be burned
7.3
I took a pet-sitting gig at a luxury apartment, thinking my life was perfect. I was pregnant and engaged to Damien, a successful attorney who had spent seven years proving his unwavering loyalty.
But the moment I stepped inside, I recognized his cologne. Then I saw the photos. The apartment belonged to his mistress, Candace. She had deliberately hired me to flaunt their year-long affair and the massive diamond ring he had just bought her.
Candace even set a trap, calling the police to falsely accuse me of stealing that ring to completely destroy my reputation. But I turned the tables, using my knowledge of his habits to expose her perjury and their affair right in front of the detectives.
Furious that his flawless public image was ruined, Damien confronted me outside the precinct.
When I told him I was pregnant, instead of joy, his eyes filled with panic for his career.
"Shut up!" he roared.
He violently shoved me to the ground in front of a crowd of onlookers.
Blood pooled on the cold pavement. I lost our baby.
As I lay in the ICU, my heart turned to ash. He had spent seven years promising me a safe harbor, only to brutally murder our unborn child just to protect his own selfish ego.
I didn't shed a single tear. I used his overwhelming public guilt to make him sign over all his assets to me, then vanished without a trace.
A year later, I returned to New York not as the broken Addison, but as "Phoenix," the world's most powerful jewelry designer.
And I am here to personally put him in a prison cell.
7.1
For six years, I was the perfect, obedient wife to billionaire Hartwell Ware, enduring his coldness because I thought my love could eventually thaw his heart.
Then, my friend sent me a photo. Hartwell was at the airport, tenderly holding the waist of his first love, Eveline Craig.
He came home smelling of her synthetic rose perfume, accused me of stalking him, and coldly demanded a divorce.
His lawyer handed me a thick settlement agreement. It offered astronomical alimony and luxury properties, but it came with a humiliating ten-page non-disclosure agreement.
He wanted to buy my silence. He wanted to strip me of my rights to our son and gag me permanently, just so he could parade his new life with Eveline without any PR backlash.
Even now, he still thought I was a gold digger who had orchestrated a media scandal to trap him into marriage.
I stared at the man I had worshipped for two thousand days. My six years of desperate devotion had been nothing but a humiliating, one-sided delusion.
Hope was finally dead, and with it, my tears had completely dried up.
He expected me to cry, to beg, to negotiate for more millions.
Instead, I snatched the pen, crossed out the massive alimony, and signed my name on the dotted line.
"I am taking the basic child support, and not a single red cent more."
Leaving my five-carat diamond ring on the marble table, I walked out the door with nothing but my old suitcase.
9.7
I tried to quit.
My boss said no.
When you work for billionaire restaurateur Bastian Hale, every day is an exercise in endurance.
He screams at you in front of half the staff? Endure.
He tears your work to bits and tells you to start again? Endure.
He surprises you shirtless in the office late one night? Endure... then go home and die of embarrassment.
I've endured six years of Bastian Hale.
I can endure anything.
... Until my doctor tells me I'm going blind in ninety days.
Suddenly, enduring isn't the goal anymore.
Living is.
Seeing everything I can before the lights go out forever.
And that means one thing: quitting the job that's consumed my entire adult life.
There's just one problem:
Bastian doesn't accept my resignation.
Instead, he shreds my letter to pieces...
Offers me a million dollars to stay...
And vows to make my last ninety days of sight worth remembering.
The man is arrogant. Brutal. Cold as the walk-in freezer.
But his hands are warm.
And in the dark, he teaches me things my eyes never could.
I wanted one last look at the light.
I got a taste of the dark instead.
9.6
For five years, Elyse loved Trevor with everything she had, yet it meant nothing when his former lover returned-pregnant.
Reduced to the city's joke, Elyse chose dignity and handed him divorce papers, walking away with nothing.
But when both women fell into the water, he didn't hesitate-he saved the other.
"I'm sorry... she's pregnant," he said, shattering what remained of her love.
She disappeared without a trace. Three years later, she returned as a world-renowned actress, radiant and untouchable.
When Trevor knelt before her, begging, "Don't leave me..." She only watched, her heart long turned cold.
He pleaded, "Please give me another chance, okay?"
7.8
Evelyn was already suffocating under her family's impending bankruptcy when she rear-ended a ten-million-dollar Rolls Royce in the freezing rain.
The tinted window rolled down, revealing the cold, predatory face of Julian Hawthorne—the man she had brutally abandoned three years ago.
Now a ruthless billionaire, he demanded a seven-figure repair check she couldn't afford, or she would have to pay with her body.
Desperate, she went to her wealthy fiancé, Preston, for the money, only to find him in a VIP club with another woman straddling his lap.
Instead of helping, Preston threw the repair bill on the floor and laughed with his rich friends.
"You want the money? Fine. Get on your knees, crawl over here, and kiss the tip of my shoe in front of everyone."
Evelyn trembled with pure humiliation.
Three years ago, she had sacrificed the only man she truly loved to save her family from ruin, only to end up engaged to this pathetic, cheating scum.
Just as her knees bent toward the carpet, the heavy velvet door was kicked completely off its hinges.
Julian walked in like the grim reaper, beat Preston half to death, and dragged Evelyn away.
He pinned her in his car, threatening to destroy everyone she cared about if she didn't return to him.
Evelyn was terrified and confused. Why was this powerful tyrant going to such extreme, violent lengths to trap a woman who had thrown him away?
The answer slipped out through an accidental phone call: the cold-blooded CEO had spent the previous night drunk, crying and screaming her name.
Realizing the monster caging her was actually just a desperate, heartbroken man, Evelyn wiped her tears and made a decision.
She was going to break her engagement, walk into his corporate fortress, and finally face the terrifying debt of their past.