Fake Marriage To The Undercover Boss
Emaline Finley was drowning in massive debt to keep her dying father alive, even enduring a humiliating blind date with an arrogant man just to find a financial lifeline.
But the fatal blow came from her former best friend, Kitty. Kitty, who was already engaged to Emaline's ex-boyfriend, deliberately told Emaline's father that his expensive treatments were bleeding his daughter dry.
Out of extreme guilt, her father threw away his life-saving medication and checked himself out of the hospital to die at home. When Emaline found him, he was coughing up pools of bright red blood, his lungs rapidly collapsing. As the paramedics rushed him away, Kitty called to gloat, mocking Emaline's poverty and telling her to go watch her father die.
Emaline was completely shattered, suffocating under the sheer injustice of it all. She had been betrayed, stripped of her dignity, and was now forced to watch her only parent slip away because of a cruel, spiteful lie.
Just as her world went dark, a wildly wealthy stranger stepped in. Cullen Preston, the mysterious man who had witnessed her humiliating date, paid the astronomical medical bills and brought in the city's top surgeon to pull her father back from death. But his salvation wasn't charity.
"Consider it a dowry."
He bought her father's life, and in exchange, he demanded Emaline as his wife.
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Chapter 4
Emaline took the stairs two at a time. The flickering fluorescent light on the third floor buzzed like an angry hornet. Her lungs burned by the time she shoved her key into the lock and threw the door open.
The apartment was dark. A single lamp glowed weakly in the cramped kitchen.
Leo was pacing the worn living room rug. When he saw her, he rushed forward. His hands flew in a frantic sequence of signs.
Dad is in the bedroom. He will not take his pills. He says the hospital is a waste of money.
Emaline dropped her purse on the sofa. The heavy thud of the cash hidden inside it made her stomach clench.
She walked straight to the bedroom.
The door was cracked open. She pushed it wide.
Walter Finley lay flat on his back on the narrow bed. His skin was the color of old ash. His chest rose and fell in shallow, rattling gasps. On the nightstand, a plastic cup of water and a row of orange pill bottles sat untouched.
Walter opened his eyes. He saw Emaline standing in the doorway. Guilt flashed in his sunken eyes, but his jaw set in a stubborn line. He turned his head away, staring at the peeling wallpaper.
Emaline walked to the edge of the bed. She dropped to her knees on the hardwood floor.
She reached out and took his hand. His skin was freezing.
"Dad," Emaline said, her voice cracking. "Why did you leave?"
Walter coughed. The sound was wet and weak. "I am fine here," he rasped. "The hospital is too expensive, Emmy. We cannot afford it."
"I will find the money," Emaline pleaded, squeezing his cold fingers. "You cannot just give up!"
Walter pulled his hand out of her grip. The rejection felt like a knife to her chest.
"I will not let you and Leo drown in debt for a dying man," Walter said firmly. "If I am going to go, I am going to do it here."
Emaline's throat closed up. Swallowing felt like swallowing glass. She knew that stubborn tone. He had made up his mind to die so they could live.
Her mind raced. She thought of the thick stack of cash sitting in her purse in the other room. But she could not tell him she took money from a stranger in a hired sedan. He would never accept it.
"Dad," Emaline started, her heart hammering against her ribs. "I went on a date tonight. I met someone. He... he wants to help us."
Walter turned his head back to look at her. His gray eyebrows pulled together in suspicion.
"Help us?" Walter asked. "Who is he? Why would a stranger pay my bills?"
Emaline opened her mouth to lie, but her phone buzzed in her back pocket.
She pulled it out. A text message lit up the screen from the number on the business card Cullen had given her.
I am sending a doctor to your apartment tomorrow morning. Do not worry about the cost. - Cullen
Emaline stared at the screen. Her blood ran cold. How did he know her apartment number? How could he arrange a doctor so fast?
She looked back at her father.
"It is a charity program," Emaline lied smoothly, the words tasting like ash on her tongue. "He works for a foundation. They fund medical treatments for low-income families."
Walter stared at her, searching her face for the truth. "There is no such thing as free money, Emmy."
"Just let the doctor look at you tomorrow," Emaline begged. "Please, Dad. Just try."
Walter looked at her desperate, tear-stained face. His shoulders sagged into the mattress. He gave a single, exhausted nod.
Emaline let out a shaky breath. She stood up, kissed his forehead, and walked out of the room.
She gestured for Leo to go in and make sure Walter drank some water.
Emaline walked out onto the tiny, rusted fire escape balcony. The freezing wind whipped her hair across her face.
She dialed the number from the text message.
Cullen answered on the first ring. His voice was wide awake.
"How did you know my exact address?" Emaline demanded, keeping her voice to a harsh whisper.
"You got in my car," Cullen said calmly. "The car service driver put it in the GPS when you told him the cross streets."
The explanation made perfect sense, but it did not settle the twisting in her gut.
"About your proposal," Emaline said, gripping the cold iron railing. "I need to know the details. And... thank you for the doctor."
"We will talk after the doctor sees him," Cullen replied. "Get some sleep, Emaline."
The line went dead.
Emaline lowered the phone. She reached into her pocket and touched the outline of the thick wad of cash through the fabric of her purse. For the first time in months, she felt a terrifying spark of hope.
She had to do this. Whatever Cullen Preston wanted, she was going to give it to him.
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8.1
Elinor's frail daughter, Cece, died in a sterile hospital room while waiting for her father to take her to Disney World.
But her billionaire husband, Derick, never showed up. At the exact moment Cece's heart monitor flatlined, the hospital TV broadcasted Derick affectionately holding the hand of his mistress and he has booked a clearance of the entire Disneyland to celebrate mistress's daughter's birthday!.
When Elinor confronted Derick with their daughter's ashes, he sneered and accused her of hiding the child just to get his attention. Elinor's heart was torn to shreds. How could a father be so blind and ruthless? Did Kamryn use his power to steal the very kidney that belonged to Cece? Why did her innocent baby have to die for their sick affair?
The suffocating grief inside Elinor finally crystallized into a sharp blade. She wiped the blood from her lips, canceled the simple divorce, and began her ruthless revenge.
7.0
My chest tightened with anticipation, five years of shared struggle culminating in this moment at the Manhattan penthouse banquet. But Chace, my partner, didn't look at me; he turned to Karyn, sliding his family's heirloom emerald ring onto her finger. Then, his voice echoed through the hall, dismissing me as "nothing but an asset under my name to provide entertainment."
My smile froze, the room erupted in laughter, and a cruel kick sent me sprawling, spraining my ankle on the cold marble floor. Karyn mocked me, but it was Chace’s icy gaze that truly shattered me. He dismissed our past, threatening my mother’s grave and my father’s life if I didn't "stay in your place and be an obedient dog."
The man I bled for, starved for, fought for, was a complete stranger, a monster veiled in cold disdain. My heartbreak bled out, replaced by a reckless, destructive madness. This wasn't just humiliation; it was an execution.
Retreating to the lavish restroom, my mind sharpened. I unblocked a forbidden number, a name whispered with terror in the New York underground: Keith Mosley. My text was brief: "I am ready to pay my debt." His reply flashed, stark and dominant: "The price is marriage." This wasn't a price; it was my knife.
7.9
Valerie Ashford, a girl who had just turned twenty-one, was introduced by her father to his business associates at a grand party, where she met a frightening, cold-blooded man.
That man was none other than her father's business partner, the CEO of a major corporation. He was taken with Valerie and had wanted her from the moment he first laid eyes on her.
For Rovano Morvane, whatever he desired was absolute and he had to have it, even by the worst means possible.
That night Valerie vanished without a trace and Rovano became the prime suspect, yet the Ashford family could not prove their allegations.
"P-please, I don't want to die, sir..." Valerie whispered so softly that Rovano had to bend down even lower.
"Didn't you just say you didn't care whether you were kidnapped or not? So shut your mouth." Rovano ordered.
Cold, Valerie felt the other side of the folding knife pressed against her cheek.
Rovano was going to mark Valerie.
It felt like something was missing if Rovano didn't take out his psychopathic urges on someone.
And this time, for the first time, he wanted a girl: Valerie Ashford.
Would Valerie's life end here?
8.9
Aubree Hamilton was the top-tier executive assistant to Wall Street's most ruthless titan, Beck Franco. A month ago, she made a catastrophic mistake and spent the night in his bed.
Thinking she had erased the mistake with a morning-after pill, she panicked upon his return and lied about being engaged to push him away.
But Beck, a man who despised disloyalty above all else, immediately suspended her and ordered her escorted out of the building. Her nightmare only escalated when her toxic ex-boyfriend attacked her on the street, tearing her purse open and exposing the empty morning-after pill box to the public—and to Beck, who was watching from his penthouse. After having his security rescue her, Beck trapped her in his car, ruthlessly tearing apart her fake engagement. Later in her apartment, the suffocating tension between them almost ignited into a kiss, but a violent wave of nausea suddenly hit Aubree.
She shoved him away with all her strength and violently threw up in the bathroom.
Beck took it as the ultimate physical disgust. He walked out, deeply humiliated and dangerously obsessed, unleashing his resources to investigate her every move.
Left alone and trembling, Aubree finally checked the crushed white box. The pill she took had expired a month ago.
Staring at the two bright pink lines on the pregnancy test, she made a desperate vow: Beck Franco could never know she was carrying his child, and she had to disappear before he found out.
7.5
Daisy spent her birthday cooking a perfect dinner, waiting in their massive penthouse for her billionaire husband, Emmett.
Instead of coming home, a breaking news alert flashed on her screen: Emmett was at the hospital, protectively shielding his old flame, Eryn. When Daisy rushed to the VIP ward, Emmett physically blocked her to comfort a crying Eryn, completely forgetting it was his wife's birthday.
Heartbroken, Daisy demanded a divorce and fled. In response, Emmett ruthlessly froze all her bank accounts and trust funds, leaving her penniless in the freezing Manhattan rain. When she cornered him with divorce papers at a public funeral, a heavy metal cart slammed into her, tearing her calf wide open. Bleeding onto the marble floor, she begged him to sign. Instead, Emmett violently ripped the bloody papers to shreds.
"Unless I am dead, you are my wife," he snarled, locking her inside a room.
Daisy risked her life to escape through a window, dragging her bleeding leg to a dingy motel. But the real nightmare began when Eryn called. The tragic car crash that killed Daisy's adoptive parents ten years ago wasn't an accident—the brake lines were cut. And Emmett, the man she loved, had been using his vast corporate empire to protect the murderers all along.
Why did Emmett bury the police report? What was the deadly secret behind her true identity and the antique "Venus" necklace? Staring at her blood-stained hands in the cracked mirror, the terrified wife died. Daisy grabbed her coat and limped out into the dark, heading straight for the Navy Yard to burn his empire to the ground.
8.6
Eleanor Sinclair always knew her stepmother and stepsister were leeches, but she never expected their betrayal to reach into her private study.
In the dead of night, she caught the family's trusted nanny of twelve years photographing confidential trust documents. The mastermind paying her off was Lillian, Eleanor's stepmother, who had been secretly embezzling estate funds and bribing tutors to deliberately ruin the academic future of Eleanor's younger brother, the only legitimate heir.
Emboldened by their deceit, the parasites grew arrogant. Her stepsister, Isabelle, deliberately flaunted her secret affair with Eleanor’s billionaire fiancé, sobbing fake tears while waiting for Eleanor to suffer a humiliating nervous breakdown.
When the tension finally peaked, Lillian played the victim so perfectly that Eleanor's own father, a powerful U.S. Senator, stormed into the room with a raised hand, ready to strike his own daughter.
"You will apologize to your stepsister immediately! I will not have this family harmony destroyed by your petty jealousy!"
They actually expected her to be a weeping, heartbroken girl. They thought cheap hotel affairs and stolen pennies could outsmart the true Sinclair bloodline. Did they really believe a few fake tears and a weak-willed father could strip her of her empire?
Eleanor didn't feel anger; she felt the cold, detached fascination of a biologist observing doomed insects. She calmly pulled out the forensic audits, locked down the estate's exits, and prepared her stepmother's psychiatric commitment papers. The merciless purge of her family had officially begun.