Claimed By The Ruthless Missing Heir
My father was marrying a gold-digger, the mother of my cheating ex-boyfriend.
To end the charade, I crashed their luxury wedding with a ten-foot funeral wreath.
In front of hundreds of elites, my father slapped me across the face, calling me a vicious bitch while his new wife smiled in victory.
I triggered the estate's fire system to ruin them, but a terrifying stranger in the VIP section bypassed my military-grade hack in seconds.
He was Kavon Velasquez, a dangerous billionaire heir who had been missing for twelve years.
Instead of exposing me, he shielded me from my father's second blow.
When my pathetic ex tried to drag me away, I grabbed Kavon and kissed him to humiliate my ex.
I shoved a $500,000 check into Kavon's pocket as hush money and left.
I thought that was the end of it.
But why did this apex predator move into the penthouse right next to mine at 2 AM?
Why did he violently crush my ex's face the next morning just for grabbing my arm?
"She is my woman. If you ever come within ten feet of her again, I will bury you."
I didn't understand why a man with lethal skills was suddenly hunting me.
Then I found out he had just blackmailed my father with undeniable proof of corporate money laundering.
His demand wasn't money. It was me.
He ordered my father to announce our engagement by tomorrow sunset, and this dangerous game officially began.
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Chapter 3
The heavy industrial exhaust fans in the ceiling kicked into high gear. The thick white smoke began to spiral upward, sucked through the vents.
The chaos in the hall slowly revealed itself. Guests were on their hands and knees, coughing up their lungs, their expensive clothes ruined.
Preston was holding Davina, who was sobbing beautifully into his chest. When Preston looked up and saw Charlize standing near the aisle, his face twisted into pure, unadulterated rage.
He marched toward her, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles were white. He raised his hand, ready to deliver a second, harder blow to her face.
A shadow moved.
Kavon stepped smoothly in front of Charlize. His broad shoulders completely shielded her from her father's view.
Preston's hand froze in mid-air. He looked up into Kavon's eyes and the blood drained from his face.
"Is this the standard of education in the Chen household?" Kavon's voice was dangerously low, carrying a weight that made the air in the room feel heavy. "Striking a woman in public?"
Preston swallowed hard. His arrogant posture crumbled instantly. He lowered his hand, a nervous, sweating smile stretching across his face. "Mr. Velasquez. I... I apologize you had to witness this. The girl is out of control."
Davina, sensing the shift in power, quickly stepped forward. She placed a gentle hand on Preston's arm, playing the perfect, forgiving wife. "Preston, please. Don't be angry with the child. It's my fault. I shouldn't have upset her."
Charlize peeked out from behind Kavon's solid frame. She let out a harsh, mocking laugh. "Save the Oscar-winning performance, Davina. It makes me want to vomit."
Before Preston could explode again, a young man in a tailored groomsman suit pushed his way through the coughing crowd.
Juan Castillo's eyes were red. He looked at Charlize with a mixture of deep pain and desperate anger. He lunged forward and grabbed her wrist, his fingers digging into her skin.
"Charlize, stop this!" Juan pleaded, trying to yank her away from the center of the room. "Come with me!"
Kavon's eyes dropped to where Juan's hand gripped Charlize's wrist. The temperature around Kavon seemed to drop ten degrees. His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking violently beneath his skin.
Charlize didn't want to be a spectacle for the media anymore. She used Juan's pull to break away from the suffocating heat of Kavon's protection.
She ripped her wrist out of Juan's grip. She turned on her heel and walked fast, heading straight for the staff exit that led to the underground parking garage.
Juan chased after her.
Kavon stood perfectly still. He watched her walk away. Slowly, he lifted his hand and rubbed his thumb over the cuff of his suit jacket, right where her back had pressed against him. It was still warm.
Down in the dim, concrete underground VIP garage, the air was cold and smelled of gasoline.
Juan caught up to her, grabbing her arm and spinning her around, pinning her against the side of a black SUV.
"Why are you doing this?" Juan yelled, his voice echoing off the concrete pillars. "Why can't you just let my mother be happy? Why can't you compromise?"
Charlize rubbed her red wrist. She looked at him like he was a stranger. "Are you brainwashed, Juan? Or just stupid?"
Juan stepped closer, his chest almost touching hers. "If you just apologize, we can go back to how we were. I still love you, Charlie."
Charlize shoved him hard in the chest with both hands. She pressed her back flat against the cold metal of the car door.
"We are done," Charlize said, her voice dripping with venom. "The second you stood by that gold-digging mother of yours, you became my enemy."
Juan's eyes filled with frantic tears. "You're just throwing a tantrum! You can't live without me!"
The steady, rhythmic click of expensive leather shoes against concrete echoed through the garage.
The sound cut through Juan's pathetic whining.
Kavon walked out of the shadows and into the pale fluorescent light. He had both hands in his pockets. His presence was so massive, so suffocating, it made the large garage feel like a small box.
Juan took a step back, his eyes darting to the dangerous man who had protected Charlize upstairs. "Who the hell are you?" Juan demanded, trying to sound brave.
Kavon didn't even blink at him. He didn't look at Juan at all. His dark, predatory gaze was locked entirely on Charlize's annoyed face.
Charlize looked at Juan's pathetic, entitled expression. A sudden, reckless idea flared in her mind.
She pushed off the car door. Her heels clicked sharply as she walked straight toward Kavon.
Juan watched in stunned silence as Charlize stopped right next to the towering man.
Without a second of hesitation, Charlize slid her hand through the crook of Kavon's arm, pressing her body against his side.
She tilted her chin up, flashing Juan a cruel, triumphant smile. "Meet my new boyfriend, Juan."
Kavon looked down at the pale hand resting on his dark sleeve. A pitch-black, dangerous amusement swirled in his eyes. He didn't pull away. He didn't say a word.
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7.6
The heavy prison gates clanged shut, ending three years. I scanned the empty lot for Julian, my fiancé. Deserted.
Biting December wind my only welcome. Calls to Julian, father, mother: unanswered/disconnected.
Shivering, Julian's tracker showed an unfamiliar Long Island estate. A freezing cab left me penniless; I walked through the blizzard. Through a mansion window, I saw Julian, my stepsister Clara, a small boy—a perfect family. Julian, who hated children, doted on him, and Clara wore *my* engagement ring.
I overheard Julian's call: he, my father, conspired to frame me for Clara’s medical error, saving their company and future. My family hadn't just abandoned me; they plotted my destruction.
A delayed text from Julian popped up, lying about a "cross-border meeting," promising to pick me up tomorrow. Despair vanished, replaced by a cold, terrifying smile. Typing "Understood," I turned from their stolen life, walking into the blizzard, fueled by burning rage.
7.2
Elmore Thomas rushed into the emergency room, clutching his feverish seven-year-old son, Buddy, tightly to his chest.
When the privacy curtain was pulled back, the air in Elmore's lungs vanished. The attending physician standing under the harsh lights was his wife, Kendal—the woman everyone believed had burned to death eight years ago.
But there was no tearful reunion. Kendal looked at him, and her eyes froze into impenetrable ice. She treated him like a biohazard, strictly referring to him as the family member.
Worse, she didn't recognize Buddy. She comforted their crying son with the same gentle warmth she used to reserve for Elmore, completely unaware she was soothing the baby she thought had died.
Days later, Elmore watched from the shadows as she picked up another boy outside a prep school, her left hand flashing a massive diamond engagement ring.
When his butler accidentally recognized her, Kendal shielded her new stepson with pure disgust in her eyes.
"Tell that psychopath to sign the divorce papers immediately. I have a new family now."
The words 'new family' echoed in Elmore's skull, tearing him apart. For eight years, he had lived in a hell of guilt and madness, raising their son in the shadow of her ghost. How could she just erase their past? How could she give her tender smiles to a stranger and look at him with absolute revulsion?
Standing in a luxury ballroom, Elmore squeezed his hand until his crystal champagne flute shattered, thick blood dripping onto the rug. The murderous obsession in his dark eyes returned as he called his lawyer.
"Freeze her divorce application. Use every dirty trick in the book. She isn't leaving."
7.6
I am the illegitimate, mute daughter of the wealthy Owen family, kept hidden in the attic like a shameful secret.
To save his failing company, my father decided to sell me off to a repulsive, predatory investor named Grossman.
At the family dinner, Grossman's sweaty hands roamed my bare legs while my half-sister Kaleigh intentionally spilled red wine on my dress, laughing as she watched me suffer.
When I grabbed a steak knife to defend myself, my father slammed his fist on the table.
"Sit down, or I will cut off the maintenance payments for your mother's grave."
My stepmother and sister sneered, treating me like a piece of meat meant to be sacrificed for their luxury. I was starved, locked away, and treated worse than a stray dog, all while my family paraded their high-society status to the world.
I couldn't understand why they hated me so deeply, or who really ordered the hit that killed my mother twenty years ago. The police reports were buried, and I was entirely powerless, trapped in a house of monsters.
But they didn't know that the night before, I had accidentally stumbled into the secret life of Burleigh Livingston—the ruthless, supposedly paralyzed billionaire who was faking his madness.
When Burleigh suddenly crashed our family dinner and threw a limitless Black Card on the table to outbid Grossman and buy me for the night, I didn't hesitate.
I grabbed the handles of his wheelchair, accepted his twisted deal, and prepared to use the devil himself to tear my family apart.
9.6
To escape my sister-in-law selling me off to a local thug, I married a complete stranger I met at City Hall.
My new husband, Drake, claimed to be a broke Uber driver who could barely make rent.
He even made me sign a brutal ten-page prenup just to ensure I wouldn't take his rusted, beat-up Ford sedan if we ever divorced.
I thought I was just sharing a decaying Brooklyn apartment with a struggling man at the bottom of the ladder.
But things quickly stopped making sense.
When that local thug cornered me at a restaurant, my "weak" husband didn't cower.
Instead, he dismantled three massive mobsters in ten seconds with the terrifying, fluid speed of an apex predator.
"I used to be a human punching bag in an underground boxing gym to pay off debts."
I believed his excuse, until his supposedly homeless grandfather showed up at our door in a moth-eaten sweater, begging to sleep on our lumpy sofa.
Before going to sleep, the old man casually pressed a heavy, intricately engraved pocket watch into my hand as a wedding gift.
He claimed it was a cheap flea market find that didn't even keep time.
But the sheer weight of the solid rose gold and the flawless mechanical gears inside screamed otherwise.
Why did a destitute driver have the aura of a man who controlled empires?
And what kind of homeless old man casually hands over a priceless, museum-grade antique?
I had no idea the "broke driver" sleeping on my floor was actually a ruthless billionaire CEO, and I had just walked straight into his trap.
7.4
I was freezing to death in an abandoned cabin, desperately waiting for my fiancé to save me.
Instead, my phone flickered with a video from my adopted sister.
She was smiling as she confessed that she and my fiancé had orchestrated my kidnapping, and my parents' fatal plane crash, just to steal my family's trust fund.
When I called him with my dying breath, he mocked me for faking a PR stunt and hung up.
I died in the sub-zero blizzard, consumed by absolute despair.
But as a ghost, I watched my greatest business rival, the ruthless billionaire Collins, kick down the doors of my mansion.
He didn't just mourn me.
He shot my fiancé, trapped my sister, and set the entire place on fire, choosing to burn alive in the inferno just to avenge me.
I couldn't understand why the man I had publicly despised for a decade loved me so fiercely, while the people I gave everything to wanted me dead.
Opening my eyes again, I was back backstage on the night I won my Oscar, four years ago.
My fiancé smiled, holding out his arms to hug me.
I pushed him away in disgust, marched straight into the crowded theater, and kissed my billionaire rival on live television.
"Let's get married tomorrow."
This time, I would use him to burn them all to the ground.
8.7
I was pregnant with the future heir of the Blackwood Pack, but my fated mate, Alpha Gavin, was nowhere to be found when sharp, tearing agony ripped through my swollen belly.
Instead of rushing to my side, he was in a luxury penthouse with his mistress, Piper.
When I desperately called his human number for help, it was Piper who answered the phone.
"I'm Piper. His future Luna."
Minutes later, I received a leaked audio file of Gavin promising to formally reject me the moment our pup was born.
Before the heartbreak could even set in, my armored SUV was violently rammed off the road by a massive truck.
It wasn't an accident. It was a targeted hit paid for by Piper's pack.
I woke up in the clinic with an empty womb. My pup was dead.
Gavin didn't even show up. He just mind-linked the butler to say he was "too busy" to deal with my loss.
He let his mistress murder our child and treated me like disposable trash, assuming my grief would make me a weak, compliant victim.
He thought he could just bury my trauma and move on with his perfect new life.
He was wrong.
I faked my own death in a fiery crash, leaving him with nothing but my signed rejection papers and the bloody receipt proving his mistress hired the killers.
Now, armed with a new identity and untraceable wealth, I am stepping out of the shadows.
I am going to bankrupt their packs from the inside out and make my former Alpha watch his empire burn.