CEO's Runaway Lover: My Cold Ex Begs For My Love Again
Four years ago, Madelynn accepted money from Caiden's family and vanished. She thought it was for the best-he would remain the untouchable heir while she faced her tough life alone.
When they met again, Caiden humiliated her in public, yet appeared when she was cornered by a difficult client, pulling her back into his life.
He forced her to stay as his lover, using her mother's medical bills as leverage, whispering, "What you owe me... you'll repay the same way."
Madelynn believed he despised her. Only after the accident, when he ran toward her before the explosion, did she understand-he never let go.
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Chapter 1
"If she stays on this project, I'm out." Louis Barrett placed his glass down with controlled force. It wasn't loud, but the message was clear.
The lively chatter and clinking of glasses in the room came to an abrupt halt.
The Dawson Group's production head stiffened mid-motion, drink still in hand, an uneasy smile frozen on his face.
Madelynn Douglas quietly set her utensils aside and lifted her gaze.
Louis—a popular movie star and Caiden Dawson's longtime friend—lounged back in his chair with careless ease. His sunglasses rested atop his head, his shirt casually unbuttoned at the collar. Despite his relaxed posture, his eyes were gleaming with sharp hostility.
His gaze locked onto Madelynn across the table, open disdain evident in his expression.
Danny Willis, Madelynn's direct superior, dabbed at his forehead nervously, forcing a polite smile. "Mr. Barrett, you're acquainted with Madelynn?"
Madelynn remained silent.
Louis let out a short, mocking laugh. "Acquainted? I know her better than I'd like."
His eyes flicked sideways toward the man in a dark gray suit seated nearby. Throughout the entire exchange, he had remained silent and focused on his phone, seemingly detached from everything happening around him.
The man was Caiden, the heir of the Dawson family and the current CEO of the Dawson Group.
It had been four years since Madelynn had last seen him.
Time hadn't changed him much. He still carried that same distant, unapproachable air, an invisible pressure that unsettled everyone in the room.
Danny's anxiety grew, and he shot Madelynn repeated looks, silently urging her to respond.
Madelynn understood exactly what he meant.
This project was the most important contract Infinity Entertainment had secured all year, so losing it wasn't an option.
Drawing a deep breath, she spoke evenly. "Mr. Barrett, we're here for business. If there are personal matters, perhaps we can address them another time."
"Personal matters?" Louis straightened, his tone sharpening. "So you admit it's personal? Then why don't you explain to everyone what exactly I have against you?"
Madelynn gave no response, and her silence only fueled Louis' anger further. "Fine. If you won't speak, I will—"
"Louis."
Caiden finally spoke, cutting him off.
He placed his phone aside, his tone quiet but authoritative.
Louis fell silent immediately, his earlier aggression restrained.
Without sparing Madelynn a glance, Caiden addressed Danny directly, saying, "If you have another producer available, we can proceed with them instead."
Relief flooded Danny's face. "Yes, of course! Please give me a moment, Mr. Dawson. I'll arrange for Miss Abby Thorpe to take over immediately."
As he hurried to make the call, he discreetly tugged at Madelynn's sleeve and whispered, "You should leave."
Madelynn, however, stayed where she was.
Her eyes remained fixed on Caiden, searching for any hint that he might reconsider or explain things to her.
But there was none.
Four years ago, he had ended things with the same indifference—so calm that it made her wonder if what they had shared had ever meant anything.
And now, just one sentence from him was enough to make her lose the project she had been working on for a year.
Madelynn rose to her feet and left.
She didn't say goodbye to anyone, didn't reach for her belongings, and never once looked back.
The corridor stretched ahead, the carpet softening the sound of her steps.
She quickened her pace, but behind her, the room had already returned to its earlier liveliness, laughter and conversation resuming as if nothing had happened.
That only made something inside her sink even deeper.
***
The moment Madelynn stepped out of the restaurant, a late-spring chill swept over her. The night air was sharper than expected, making her instinctively pull her coat closer around herself.
She lingered by the entrance, exhaling softly as she waited for a ride to be accepted on her phone. The screen flickered on and off in her hand—time passing, request after request ignored. Nearly twenty minutes went by. Even after raising the fare, no driver took the job.
The location was too remote. Hardly anyone was willing to come this far out.
She was just about to give up and walk toward the main road, two kilometers away, when a cab finally approached, slowing as it neared her.
The driver rolled down the car window and looked her over before naming his price.
"One hundred dollars."
Madelynn glanced at the meter out of habit. The base fare read fourteen. "It's only about ten kilometers to the hospital in the city," she said calmly.
The driver scoffed, cigarette hanging loosely from his lips, "Doesn't matter. I had to come all the way out here on my own. You think that's free? A hundred. Take it or leave it."
Madelynn slipped her phone back into her pocket.
That amount could cover two days of her mother's care.
Without another word, she turned and walked away.
"Hey! Miss!" the driver called after her.
She ignored him, her heels striking the pavement in crisp, echoing clicks.
After a short distance, discomfort began to set in at the back of her feet. The shoes, bought for last year's company gala after weeks of hesitation, had barely been worn. They weren't really comfortable.
She should have chosen something practical.
The thought had just crossed her mind when a pair of bright headlights stretched her shadow across the road from behind.
A sleek black Rolls-Royce Phantom soon came to a smooth stop beside her.
The window slid down, revealing Louis leaning out, wearing a smirk. "What a coincidence. Stuck without a ride?"
Madelynn didn't even spare him a glance and kept walking forward.
The car crept alongside her.
"You sure you don't want a lift? Plenty of room up front," Louis continued casually.
Madelynn stopped.
Front seat. That meant Caiden.
Still facing forward, she answered flatly, "I'll pass. I prefer walking."
"In those heels? And for ten kilometers?" Louis raised an eyebrow.
"I don't mind."
Louis looked like he was about to keep pushing when a quiet voice came from inside the car.
"Let's leave." Caiden's tone was calm, carrying no trace of emotion.
Louis shrugged, leaning back into his seat.
Moments later, the car rolled forward, passing Madelynn and disappearing down the road at an unhurried pace.
Madelynn stood still for a moment, watching the red taillights fade into the distance.
Then, she turned around. Retracing her steps, she returned to the waiting cab and pulled the door open.
"A hundred dollars, right?" she said. "Let's go."
The driver blinked, clearly caught off guard, before hurriedly putting out his cigarette and starting the engine.
After a while, he glanced at her through the rearview mirror, curiosity getting the better of him. "Those guys from earlier... you know them?" he asked.
That kind of car wasn't something one could see every day; only the wealthy rode in those.
Madelynn leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes.
"No," she replied, her voice distant.
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8.0
Elva used a spare key card to quietly enter the hotel penthouse, only to find her boyfriend of two years panting heavily on the king-sized bed with her own cousin.
Instead of showing remorse, her cousin shamelessly mocked her background, while her ex aggressively lunged at her to destroy the photographic evidence she had just captured.
"You think you can just walk away? Warren already made the deal. By next week, you're being shipped off to marry that fifty-two-year-old crippled freak from the Ramirez family!"
Her ex spat the words to threaten her, and the nightmare only escalated when Elva returned to her uncle's estate, where Warren confirmed he was indeed selling her off for a business connection.
Her family eagerly joined the abuse, threatening to permanently freeze her late mother's trust fund and even plotting to secretly drug her morning milk so she couldn't fight back when the groom's family arrived.
They looked at her like a pathetic, orphaned burden they could bleed dry, fully expecting her to drop to her knees, cry, and accept her miserable fate without a single word of defiance.
But they had no idea that just hours ago, Elva had already signed a marriage certificate with Bronson Ramirez, the undisputed billionaire king of the dynasty, and she was stepping into the living room ready to watch their greedy world burn.
8.7
Brought back from a humble life in Montana, Nora found out she was the true biological heiress of the ultra-wealthy Beaumont family.
But her biological parents didn't love her; they loved the fake daughter, Olivia, much more.
The moment she arrived, her father pushed an engagement termination agreement across his massive desk, forcing her to give up her wealthy fiancé so Olivia could have him.
Her mother looked at her with pure disdain.
"You should know your place. Don't reach for things that were never meant for you."
To break her spirit, they moved her into a cramped, dusty servant's room. They even ordered the butler to feed her cold kitchen scraps and gristle.
They wanted to humiliate her, to make her feel like a piece of trash rather than a daughter.
They expected her to cry, to beg, and to be absolutely crushed by the realization that her own flesh and blood saw her only as a liability to their reputation.
They thought the country girl would easily fold under their united front of cruelty.
But Nora felt no sting of betrayal, only the calculating clarity of a chess player.
She calmly signed the paper, pulled out the Beaumont family trust rules, and looked them dead in the eye.
"Since I am the legal heir, I demand what belongs to me. I'm taking the master bedroom."
9.3
My father ordered me to marry into the cursed Vaughn family.
Their heirs were rumored to die young from a mysterious genetic agony. My sister Kayden laughed, saying she wasn't going to waste her youth planning a funeral. So, I became the sacrificial lamb.
When I refused, my father slammed his hand on the table and threatened to throw my dead mother's ashes into the city dump.
"You are a struggling actress with no money and no power. You have no choice," he told me coldly.
To make matters worse, my own agent drugged my drink at a business dinner, trying to sell my body to a sleazy investor just to secure project funding.
I was completely cornered, suffocating under the weight of their cruelty. I couldn't understand how my own flesh and blood could be so vicious, treating me like a worthless pawn to be traded and discarded.
But none of them knew that while escaping the drug-laced dinner, I crashed directly into the terrifying Vaughn heir, Algot.
When his glowing crimson eyes locked onto me during a violent episode of his cursed pain, we discovered an impossible truth: my physical touch was the only cure for his agony.
Looking at the dark bruises he accidentally left on my neck, I chose not to run. Instead, I pulled out the private business card he gave me and dialed his number.
"You need me," I whispered to the dangerous billionaire. "And I am going to use you to destroy them all."
8.9
For three years, Alana acted as the sole tactical brain for the Dawnbreaker squad, keeping them alive despite being labeled a useless "Dud" Conduit.
But right before the crucial Ascension Trials, squad leader Cash handed her a corporate sponsorship contract. The condition? She had to become the "private companion" to a greasy corporate heir just so the squad could get high-tier gear.
When she refused, the teammates she had bled for unanimously voted to kick her out.
"You're just window dressing, a liability."
They revoked her safehouse access, burned her belongings, and the academy advisor even tried to force her into a state-sanctioned breeding program. They left her to freeze in the slums, betting she would desperately crawl into the rich man's bed.
What they didn't know was that her inability to summon an Eidolon wasn't a lack of talent. Her teammate Dallin had been secretly sabotaging her rituals for years, crippling her potential just to keep her chained as their free tactician.
Stripped of everything and pushed to the absolute brink, Alana's despair morphed into a deadly resolve.
Using a million-credit black market loan and a forbidden blood matrix, she forcibly anchored an Apex-Tier cosmic wolf disguised as a harmless silver pup.
When her ex-squad tried to publicly humiliate her and burn her new "pet" alive in the cafeteria, a flash of silver light severed Dallin's hand instantly.
Looking at her screaming former teammates, Alana finally smiled.
7.9
On my wedding day, my fiancé Connor received an urgent phone call.
He told me a D-list actress had broken her leg on set, then abandoned me right at the altar.
In my past life, I cried until my throat bled, begging him not to leave.
But my tears only brought endless humiliation. My mother and adopted sister mocked me, framed me, and forged my signature to steal my multi-million dollar trust fund.
They kicked me out of the family estate without a single dime.
I ended up freezing to death in the minus-twenty-degree New York blizzard, listening to my mother's voicemail telling me to die in the street as long as I didn't bleed on her carpets.
Until my last breath, I couldn't understand why my own blood relatives hated me so much, yet treated an adopted daughter like a precious princess.
The only person who showed me any mercy—draping his wool coat over my frozen corpse and giving me a proper burial—was Connor's ruthless, untouchable uncle, Harding Snow.
Opening my eyes again, I was back in the bridal suite, right as Connor was rushing out the door.
This time, I didn't shed a single tear.
I let him run to his actress, then walked straight into the VIP room to face the most feared billionaire on Wall Street.
"The wedding proceeds as planned, but the groom's name changes to yours."
9.3
For five years, I was Ashton Miller's invisible partner, his loyal fiancée, pouring my life into building his empire from the shadows. Tonight, the Bronze Deer exhibition, my masterpiece, was finally opening at the Met, a testament to our shared future.
Then, Bianca, a third-tier actress, stepped into the spotlight in *my* custom Vera Wang wedding dress. My blood ran cold as Ashton's arm circled her waist, his whispered words promising to make her the "new queen of the city."
Five years of trust and sacrifice crumbled. I was a blood bag, drained and discarded. When I publicly exposed their lies, Ashton cornered me backstage, his face twisted in fury, threatening to ruin me, to blacklist me forever. I ripped off his engagement ring, tossing it at his chest. "We're done," I said, walking out as his enraged screams echoed.
The man whose empire I secretly built called me a parasite, his mistress feigning tears, painting me as delusional. My guilt vanished, replaced by freezing, absolute hatred for the man who twisted reality to erase my existence.
Standing in the New York rain, I finally pulled out the military-grade encrypted phone hidden for five years. The line clicked open instantly, a low, gravelly voice asking, "Is it you?" Before I could answer, Archer's voice hardened: "Give me the location. I'll be there in ten minutes. Who touched you? I want his life."