Escaping My Vicious Billionaire Husband

Colette stepped out of the federal prison, finally breathing the air of freedom after two agonizing years. But instead of a bus home, a black armored SUV blocked her path. Ferris Vance's men kidnapped her right at the gates. He forced her to sign a marriage certificate, threatening to completely destroy her father's legacy if she refused. The nightmare had only just begun. She soon learned her father had been driven to suicide anyway. Dragged into the Vance estate, Colette was beaten bloody by the family of Ellie, the girl she supposedly wronged. Ferris paraded her in a pure white gown for the cameras, playing the fiercely devoted husband. But the second the lenses turned away, he forced her into a coarse maid's uniform, making her scrub the freezing marble floors on her hands and knees. "Your life isn't even worth the dirt on my shoes." Ferris whispered those words as he threw his muddy boots at her bruised face. She was nothing but a piece of bleeding bait, a prop meant to lure his missing lover out of hiding. She was tortured and humiliated for a crime she had absolutely nothing to do with. The sheer injustice of paying the price for another woman's disappearance tore her soul apart. When he cornered her in the bathroom, the last thread of Colette's sanity snapped. She hurled a bucket of filthy water right into his face, broke out of his grip, and threw herself out a window into a freezing storm. This time, she chose to escape, even if it meant death.

Chapters

Chapter 6

The heavy double doors of the dressing room swung open.

Ferris stepped inside. He was dressed in a razor-sharp, custom black suit that hugged his broad shoulders perfectly.

His eyes swept past the stylists and landed directly on Colette.

His footsteps faltered for a fraction of a second.

The pure white gown clung to her narrow waist, cascading down to the floor. The makeup hid her bruises, leaving behind a face of breathtaking, tragic beauty.

A sharp, undeniable jolt of heat hit Ferris's chest. For one dangerous second, he was completely captivated.

Then, the memory of Ellie's smiling face crashed into his mind. The heat in his chest turned into a block of solid ice.

He waved his hand, dismissing the entire styling team. They scurried out, closing the door behind them.

Ferris walked up behind Colette. He placed his large, warm hands heavily on her bare shoulders. His grip was possessive, his fingers digging slightly into her skin.

He leaned down. His warm breath brushed against the sensitive skin of her neck, sending a violent shiver down her spine.

"The game starts now," he whispered to her reflection in the mirror. "Do not mess this up. Or you will pay for it."

Colette kept her eyes downcast. Her long eyelashes hid the burning hatred in her pupils.

He grabbed her cold hand and forcefully tucked it into the crook of his arm.

They walked out of the dressing room, moving in perfect sync down the plush carpeted hallway toward the sunroom.

The sunroom had been transformed. Hundreds of white champagne roses filled the corners. Professional lighting rigs and cameras were pointed at two velvet chairs.

Paige Turner, America's most ruthless and respected broadcast journalist, stood up with a bright, welcoming smile.

The moment Ferris crossed the threshold, his entire demeanor shifted. The cold monster vanished. In his place stood a deeply enamored, charming husband.

He pulled out Colette's chair, his hand resting protectively on the small of her back as she sat.

The red light on the main camera blinked on.

"We are here with Ferris Vance and his new bride," Paige began, her voice smooth. "Tell me, Ferris, how did this whirlwind romance begin?"

Ferris reached over and took Colette's hand. He laced his fingers through hers, his palm burning hot against her icy skin.

He looked deeply into Colette's eyes and spun a flawless, poetic lie about love at first sight and finding light in the darkness. His acting was so perfect, even Paige looked genuinely moved.

Then, Paige leaned forward, her eyes sharpening.

"Colette," Paige said, dropping the friendly tone. "Two years ago, you were at the center of a horrific scandal. Sitting here now, in this house... how do you live with that past?"

The color drained from Colette's face. The heavy makeup couldn't hide the sudden, violent trembling of her hands.

Her chest heaved. Her throat closed up. The urge to scream I was framed! clawed at the inside of her mouth.

Ferris felt her panic. He moved instantly.

He wrapped his long arm around her shoulders and pulled her flush against his chest, physically shielding her from Paige's piercing gaze.

"The past was a terrible misunderstanding," Ferris said to the camera, his voice thick with protective devotion. "The truth is, our love is stronger than any rumor."

To sell the lie, he tilted her chin up and pressed his lips firmly against her forehead.

Under the cover of the romantic gesture, his fingers dug brutally into the muscle of her shoulder, a silent, agonizing threat.

The pain snapped Colette back to reality. She forced her lips into a stiff, trembling smile for the camera.

"Cut!" the director called out. "That was beautiful. We got it."

Continue to next part

For seven years, I hid my identity as a wealthy heiress to be with my boyfriend, Ewing. I followed him across the country and made myself small so he could feel big. On Thanksgiving, he ditched our celebration for his first love, Bree, who supposedly had a "burst pipe." Later, she posted an intimate selfie with him, calling him her "hero." Then she sent me a video of him at a bar, laughing with his friends. "She's just being dramatic," he slurred, smirking at the camera. "A new necklace and she'll forget all about it. She's easy." Easy. Seven years of my life, my love, my sacrifice-all reduced to that one word. I realized I was never his partner. I was just a placeholder. I didn't cry. I packed my bags, booked a one-way flight to New York, and sent him one final text before blocking his number. "Don't bother coming home. I'm getting married."

Billionaire Modern Romance

9.3

Left To Die: The Wife's Spectacular Comeback

9.3

Elliana sat on the cold marble floor, staring at the two pink lines on the pregnancy test. Overjoyed, she went to her husband Garrett’s study to surprise him. But the room was empty. On his iPad, she accidentally opened a muted security video from the night before. As a graphic novelist trained in facial anatomy, she easily read Garrett’s lips as he spoke to their housekeeper. "Increase the hallucinogens and the birth control. Let her become a complete lunatic." The truth shattered her reality. Her three years of inexplicable exhaustion and mental collapses were orchestrated to keep her away from her ex-fiancé, who was now married to Garrett’s sister, Cristina. The nightmare worsened during a horrific highway crash. As their SUV flipped and caught fire, Garrett ruthlessly abandoned a pregnant Elliana in the crushed backseat. He dragged Cristina to safety, leaving Elliana to burn. She survived, but her right hand—her drawing hand—was permanently destroyed. Lying in the hospital with her career ruined and her intellectual property stolen by the husband who forged her signature while she was drugged, a freezing void of hatred consumed her. She was nothing but a sedated decoy to hide Garrett's twisted, incestuous obsession with his own sister. When Garrett knelt by her hospital bed with fake tears, Elliana didn't scream or expose him. Instead, she forced a pathetic, dependent smile, playing the perfect broken wife. She was going back to his penthouse to steal his encrypted files, ready to feed him to Manhattan's most cutthroat divorce lawyer and watch his empire burn.

Billionaire Modern Romance

7.6

Reborn To Claim My CEO Husband

7.6

Elliana Lewis lay dying on the freezing concrete of a federal penitentiary, her ribs shattered by a guard's heavy boot. She had been flawlessly framed for murder by the one person she trusted with her life: her sweet, innocent stepsister, Jovita. During her final prison visit, Jovita wore their mother's diamonds and smiled cruelly behind the glass. She revealed she had liquidated the family company, caused their father's stroke, and paid the guards to ensure Elliana suffered a grueling, agonizing death. "Your marriage was a joke from day one, Ellie. You have nothing left." As her lungs stopped, the tragic truth finally dawned on Elliana. She had spent months screaming for a divorce and publicly humiliating her billionaire husband, Damon Stirling, believing his silence was weakness. She didn't realize until it was too late that his endless tolerance was the deepest form of protection. She had pushed away the only man who would have burned the world down to keep her safe. Why had she been so incredibly stupid? Why did she blindly trust a monster and destroy the only person who truly loved her? Then, a blinding light pierced her retinas. Elliana bolted upright, gasping for air on a massive, king-sized bed. There was no pain. No broken bones. The digital clock on the nightstand flashed a date from exactly ten years ago. It was the morning after her disastrous wedding night. This time, she would tear Jovita's life apart piece by piece. And she would hold onto Damon so tightly that nothing could ever pry them apart.

Billionaire Modern Romance

9.4

Rising From Ashes: The Betrayed Heiress

9.4

Dorene survived a terrifying night with a bleeding, dangerous intruder in her hotel penthouse, only to receive a far more devastating blow the next morning. A black and gold envelope arrived. It was an engagement invitation. Her boyfriend of seven years, Kadyn, was marrying her sweet, innocent best friend, Dolly. Refusing to hide, Dorene crashed the gala in a blood-red gown. But Dolly was ready. Grabbing Dorene's wrists, Dolly purposely threw herself backward into a tower of champagne glasses, shrieking about her stomach and her unborn baby. "If anything happens to Dolly or my child, I swear to God, I will destroy you!" Kadyn roared, holding the weeping Dolly in the broken glass. He didn't ask a single question. He branded Dorene a jealous monster. To completely break her dignity, he publicly handed her over to the city's most notorious, sleazy playboy just to appease Dolly's fake tears. "Give him a shot," Kadyn told her coldly. Seven years of love were ground into the marble floor. She was framed, publicly humiliated, and discarded like trash by the two people she trusted most. Dorene didn't shed a single tear. She gave them a smile of pure, freezing mockery and walked out of the gilded cage into the freezing Manhattan night. She didn't know that as she left, the lethal, blood-stained man from her penthouse was watching from the shadows, ready to help her burn their world to the ground.

Billionaire Modern Romance

9.2

The Billionaire's Mistaken And Defiant Surrogate

9.2

Celestia woke up heavily sedated, her wrists bound tightly to the legs of a grand piano in a cold, opulent room. Before she could even process the panic, a towering billionaire named Sterling Sinclair IV stepped in, looking at her like a possessed piece of art. The head maid then handed Celestia a thick surrogacy contract with her perfectly forged signature. "You are here to bear an heir for Mr. Sinclair," the maid stated flatly. Celestia screamed that they had the wrong person, but her desperate cries bounced uselessly off the soundproof walls. Stripped of her clothes, phone, and identity, she was trapped on an isolated island surrounded by high-voltage electric fences and armed guards. When she furiously fought back, Sterling physically overpowered her, punishing her resistance with brutal, terrifying dominance until she lost consciousness on the marble floor. She didn't understand who had kidnapped her from her normal life. Why was her biometric data perfectly faked in a classified dossier? Who had framed her as a willing, ten-million-dollar premium product for a ruthless billionaire? Driven by pure survival, Celestia began aggressively consuming raw garlic and bathing in harsh white vinegar to destroy her fertility and repel his touch. And when Sterling finally reviewed her bizarre, self-sabotaging dietary logs, the terrifying truth hit his calculating mind like a physical blow. The broken, innocent woman he had been brutally tormenting all week was never his hired surrogate.

Billionaire Horror Modern

8.1

The Billionaire's Secret Paper Wife

8.1

Chantal Lewis's family legacy was twenty-four hours away from a fifty-million-dollar foreclosure. Desperate to save her parents, she sold her soul, offering herself as a paper wife to Dell Valdez, a ruthless Wall Street billionaire needing a quick PR fix. But Dell didn't just buy her; he trapped her in a living nightmare. He forced her into a brutal three-year repayment plan she could never afford, treated her like a disposable prop, and deliberately leaked a scandalous paparazzi photo to destroy her hard-earned professional credibility. Worst of all, the first time his calloused hand touched hers, a violent, terrifying flashback assaulted her brain. The scorching heat of his palms and the distinct, dark scent of his cedarwood cologne perfectly matched the repressed memory of a pitch-black room where she was pinned to a mattress against her will. Chantal didn't understand why her cold-blooded fake husband felt exactly like the monster from her unspoken trauma. She understood even less why, after months of ignoring her, he was suddenly acting violently jealous and possessive when she merely smiled at another man! Why did his scent match her attacker, and what was he truly planning? Furious, she called him to threaten a divorce, only for his voice to drop into a lethal whisper. "Try it. See what happens." Before she could process his deadly threat, her office phone rang. "Ms. Lewis," her receptionist trembled. "Your brother is in the lobby. He owes money to some very bad people, and they are coming here right now."

Billionaire Modern Romance

Escaping My Vicious Billionaire Husband

Chapter 6

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