Escaping My Cold And Jealous CEO
For five years, I was Barron Santana's elite bodyguard and loyal shadow. I stood between him and bullets, giving him my youth and my entire heart.
But last night, the CEO announced his engagement to a flawless socialite on national television.
Heartbroken, I got blackout drunk and ended up crashing on the couch of Cassidy Gross, a billionaire tech CEO who saved me from a bar creep.
When I showed up late to work, Barron locked me in his freezing office. He pinned me against the glass, smelling Cassidy's cologne on my clothes.
"Are you already looking for your next meal ticket?"
He snarled the words, treating me like a cheap whore. When I defended myself, he pulled out a silk handkerchief and wiped his fingers, acting as if my very touch contaminated him.
Then, he coldly ordered his assistant to draft my termination papers.
Five years of risking my life for him, thrown away like garbage just because of his twisted ego.
Devastated, I ran out and collapsed in the hallway, sobbing uncontrollably until a kind coworker gently pulled me into his arms to comfort me.
I didn't know Barron had followed me out.
Seeing me clinging to another man, his legendary control completely shattered, replaced by a dark, violent possessiveness.
But it was too late. I was done playing his obedient dog, and it was time to take Cassidy up on his offer.
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Chapter 2
The Porsche tires squealed as Cassidy pulled into the underground parking garage of The Plaza Hotel.
He put the car in park and killed the engine. He unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned over to Alexandrea. She was slumped against the window, her eyes closed, her breathing shallow and uneven.
Cassidy unbuckled her belt. He stepped out of the car, walked around to her side, and scooped her into his arms.
Alexandrea didn't fight him. Her head rolled against his chest. Her hands reached up, her fingers weakly gripping the fabric of his dress shirt.
Cassidy carried her toward the private elevator reserved for the penthouse suites. He pulled a sleek black keycard from his pocket and tapped it against the sensor. The doors slid open instantly.
He stepped inside. The elevator shot upward at a dizzying speed.
The sudden loss of gravity made Alexandrea groan. Her stomach churned. She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her face harder into Cassidy's chest.
"Almost there," Cassidy murmured. He adjusted his grip, holding her a little tighter to keep her steady.
The doors opened to the top floor. Cassidy carried her down the wide, silent hallway. He kicked open the heavy oak door to his suite and walked straight into the massive living room.
He stopped at the center of the room and gently lowered Alexandrea onto the deep, velvet cushions of the sofa.
The second her back hit the cushions, Alexandrea let out a frustrated sound. She kicked her legs out in frustration, sending one of her heavy combat boots slipping off her foot. It landed heavily on the thick Persian rug with a dull, muted thud.
Cassidy sighed. He stepped over the discarded boot on the floor and reached up to loosen his tie.
Suddenly, Alexandrea shot up from the couch. Her eyes were wide open, completely red, and completely blind to her surroundings.
"Barron!" she screamed.
The name ripped out of her throat. It was a sound of pure, agonizing heartbreak. Tears spilled over her eyelashes and tracked rapidly down her cheeks.
Cassidy froze. His hands dropped from his tie. A sharp, ugly spike of jealousy hit his chest.
He closed the distance between them and grabbed her shoulders, trying to push her back down. "Alexandrea, lie down. You're drunk."
Alexandrea fought him. The combat instincts buried in her bones took over. She grabbed the lapels of his shirt, twisting the fabric in her fists, and yanked him downward with terrifying strength.
Cassidy lost his balance and fell forward, catching himself with his hands on either side of her head.
Their faces were inches apart. Alexandrea blinked. Her eyes tried to focus on his features.
She saw the dark hair. She saw the warm brown eyes. It wasn't the cold, ice-blue stare she wanted. It wasn't him.
A fresh wave of devastation crashed over her. She let out a broken sob.
The pain in her chest was too much. She couldn't breathe. She needed an outlet. She grabbed Cassidy's right hand, pulled it to her mouth, and sank her teeth into the thick muscle between his thumb and index finger.
She bit down hard.
Cassidy sucked in a sharp breath. The pain was instant and piercing. His muscles locked up.
Blood welled up around her teeth, warm and metallic. It smeared against the corner of her lips.
Cassidy didn't pull away. He didn't yell. He looked down at her face, covered in tears and twisted in agony, and the anger in his chest completely dissolved. It was replaced by a heavy, suffocating need to protect her.
He gritted his teeth against the pain. He lifted his left hand and pressed it against the back of her head, stroking her hair.
"It's okay," he whispered. "I'm here."
Slowly, the tension drained out of Alexandrea's jaw. Her teeth released his hand. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she went completely limp against the cushions, falling into a deep, alcohol-induced sleep.
Cassidy carefully pulled his bleeding hand away. He looked at the deep, crescent-shaped puncture wounds. Blood dripped onto the velvet couch.
He stared at her sleeping face. He knew, right then, that he was in deep trouble.
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9.0
On their seventh wedding anniversary, Kiley's billionaire husband, Aden, slid a thick stack of papers across the restaurant table.
It was a petition for divorce.
He was leaving her for his college sweetheart. Thanks to a ruthless prenup, Kiley was being thrown out with absolutely nothing.
That very night, their young son Jules was rushed to the ER, bleeding profusely. The doctor's diagnosis was a death sentence: acute leukemia.
When Kiley frantically called Aden for help, he dismissed the emergency as a simple nosebleed.
"I'm not paying for this. Deal with it," Aden sneered, the sound of his mistress giggling in the background.
To force Kiley to sign the divorce papers, Aden froze all her credit cards and canceled their son's health insurance. He refused to pay a single cent for the chemotherapy.
Even Kiley's adoptive parents sided with the wealthy Aden, calling her a burden and telling her to stop fighting him.
Driven to the brink of despair, with a dying child and no money, Kiley didn't understand how a father could be so monstrous to his own flesh and blood.
Until a news article on a friend's phone caught her eye.
It featured a fallen 9/11 firefighter hero from the ultra-wealthy Whitfield family. The man in the photo looked exactly like Jules, down to the very bone structure.
Kiley's mind raced back to the fertility clinic and the anonymous sperm donor.
Could this dead billionaire hero be her son's biological father?
Looking at her sleeping, fragile boy, Kiley wiped her tears and crushed the divorce papers in her hand.
She was going to find the Whitfield family, save her son, and make Aden lose everything he held dear.
8.7
Ada was eight months pregnant, sitting peacefully in her husband's Manhattan estate, looking at a baby nursery catalog.
Suddenly, her husband's mistress, Jacklyn, walked in, threw an ultrasound photo on the table, and locked the door.
Before Ada could process the betrayal, Jacklyn dragged her to the top of the marble staircase and threw herself backward just as Desmond walked through the front doors.
"She pushed me, Desmond! She tried to kill our baby!"
Desmond looked at Ada with absolute hatred.
He ignored Ada's breaking water and her agonizing screams for help, leaving her to miscarry on the freezing floor while he rushed Jacklyn to the hospital.
He sent Ada to a brutal federal prison for three years, where she was tortured and left with a body covered in horrific scars, mourning the baby she was told died at birth.
When Ada was finally released, Desmond destroyed her cousin's company to force her back to his estate as a lowly maid.
But when Ada saw Jacklyn's three-year-old son, her world stopped.
Right in the center of the little boy's palm was a faint crescent moon birthmark.
It was the exact same mark Ada had kissed on her own lifeless baby's tiny hand before the doctors took his body away.
How did her dead child become Jacklyn's little prince?
Looking at the woman who stole her life and the husband who threw her in hell, Ada clenched her scarred hands and swore she would tear their world apart to get her son back.
8.5
After four years of marriage, my wealthy husband Brad handed me a $50,000 severance check outside the Manhattan Family Court.
He linked arms with his mistress, Jenna, who flaunted the diamond ring that used to be mine.
"Just take it, Hayley. Take the money and get out of our lives," he sneered, looking at me with absolute disgust.
I tore the check into pieces, but my nightmare was just beginning.
To access my grandfather's trust fund, I had exactly seventy-two hours to get legally married, so I desperately proposed a one-year contract marriage to a poor insurance salesman I met in a dive bar.
When Brad found out, he and his arrogant family cornered me at their estate.
Brad mocked my new husband for being a penniless, money-grubbing parasite, while my former mother-in-law slapped me hard across the face, knocking me to the ground.
"You are trash, just like your mother," she spat, watching my knee bleed onto the sharp gravel.
Jenna gleefully kicked my phone away, shattering the screen and cutting off my only lifeline.
Lying there in the dirt, I stared at the broken glass in absolute despair.
I didn't understand why four years of quiet devotion had earned me nothing but cruel betrayal and endless humiliation from the people I once called family.
Just as I thought I had completely lost, a black Lincoln Navigator slammed to a halt at the gates.
My "penniless" new husband stepped out, radiating a terrifying, righteous fury that made the entire Patton family freeze in horror.
7.6
My father raised seven brilliant orphans to be my potential husbands. For years, I only had eyes for one of them, the cold and distant Damien Paul, believing his distance was a wall I just had to break through.
That belief shattered last night when I found him in the garden, kissing his foster sister, Eve—the fragile girl my family took in at his request, the one I had treated like my own sister.
But the true horror came when I overheard the other six Fellows talking in the library.
They weren't competing for me. They were working together, orchestrating "accidents" and mocking my "stupid, blind" devotion to keep me away from Damien.
Their loyalty wasn't to me, the heiress who held their futures in her hands. It was to Eve.
I wasn't a woman to be won. I was a foolish burden to be managed. The seven men I grew up with, the men who owed my family everything, were a cult, and she was their queen.
This morning, I walked into my father's study to make a decision that would burn their world to the ground. He smiled, asking if I'd finally won Damien over.
"No, Dad," I said, my voice firm. "I'm marrying Hunter Beach."
9.4
Blurb;
"I don't love you and I will never love you, Isabelle Yang!" I froze as the hatred in his eyes held me captive. I knew he wasn't happy with this arrangement. Neither was I.
"But I am your wife, Emerson."
"Wife?" He scoffed, stepping closer until my back hit the wall and I was trapped between his arms.
"You mean wife... or just the woman chosen to carry my heir?" His words were the truth. That was the only reason I was here. Still, they hurt more than I expected.
"You hurt my girlfriend by coming into our lives," he continued coldly.
"And I plan to make you feel twice the pain you caused her."
Then he did something worse than yelling-he sanitized his hands after touching me, as if I disgusted him.
He walked away, leaving me heartbroken and shaking, wondering what I had done to deserve so much hatred.
...
Isabelle Yang never imagined that her life could spiral into more darkness after catching her boyfriend and twin sister in bed on the night meant to celebrate their two-year anniversary.
Before she could even recover, a call from home changed everything. Her marriage had been arranged with the Winters-one of the most powerful families in Europe. And her husband? Emerson Winters, the ruthless heir who cared about only two things... himself and his childhood sweetheart, Salma Hayden.
But what happens when his love isn't enough to bear an heir, and he is forced into a marriage with Isabelle-a woman he sees as a mistake, a burden, an obligation?
What will become of two hearts trapped in a marriage where hatred and resentment rule the day?
Read this book to find out;
The Billionaire's Unwanted Wife
A novel by Queenebunoluwa15
8.8
I've always been the unwanted child-the invisible one. The rebel no one ever tried to understand.
And yet, I never resented my perfect, beloved sister. All I ever wanted was for her to be happy.
But one cruel twist of fate-and a devastating betrayal by someone I trusted-changed everything.
I woke up in a stranger's bed, losing the one thing I had guarded so carefully. Back then, I thought that was my greatest loss.
I was wrong.
Because not long after, my sister introduced me to her fiancé.
And the man standing in front of me... was the same stranger from that night.
Now he haunts me-day and night, in my dreams and in my waking hours. And just when I start to believe the nightmare might finally fade with the dawn, Alan walks back into my life.
This time, he has no intention of letting me forget.
Not the insult I dealt him.
...or that one unforgettable night.