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 5
The doorbell rang at exactly eight in the morning.
Emaline jerked awake on the sofa. She rubbed her gritty eyes, smoothed down her wrinkled shirt, and hurried to the door.
She pulled it open.
A middle-aged man in a pristine white coat stood in the hallway. A younger nurse stood behind him, carrying a heavy silver medical case.
"Ms. Finley?" the man asked. "I am Dr. Miles Ramsey from New York-Presbyterian. I was asked to come evaluate your father."
Emaline's jaw dropped. New York-Presbyterian was one of the top hospitals in the country. They did not do house calls in rundown Brooklyn apartments.
"Please, come in," Emaline said, stepping aside.
Dr. Ramsey walked into the cramped bedroom. He spent forty-five minutes examining Walter, listening to his lungs, and drawing blood. When he finally stepped back into the living room, his face was grim.
"His lungs are failing rapidly," Dr. Ramsey told Emaline in a low voice. "He needs to be admitted immediately for aggressive intravenous therapy. If he stays here, he will not survive the week."
Emaline felt the floor drop out from under her. "How much will the admission cost?"
Dr. Ramsey opened his briefcase and pulled out a clipboard. He handed it to her.
"The initial costs have been covered," Dr. Ramsey said. "He has been enrolled in a specialized clinical trial program. It covers full hospitalization."
Emaline stared at the paperwork. The words 'Fully Funded' were stamped across the top. Her hands began to shake.
She knew there was no clinical trial. This was Cullen.
After Dr. Ramsey and the nurse left to arrange the transport, Emaline pulled out her phone and dialed Cullen's number.
"Who exactly are you?" Emaline demanded the second he answered. "How did you get a doctor from Presbyterian to lie to my face?"
"I told you I have resources," Cullen's voice was smooth, unbothered. "The only thing that matters is whether you are going to accept the help."
Emaline looked through the bedroom door. Walter was sleeping peacefully, the pain lines on his face smoothed out by the medication Dr. Ramsey had given him.
She swallowed her pride. It tasted bitter.
"I need thirty thousand dollars," Emaline said, her voice trembling. "To cover his past debts at the other hospital so they will release his records to Presbyterian."
Silence stretched over the line.
"Done," Cullen said. "But it is a loan. You will sign a promissory note."
Emaline blinked. The demand for an IOU shocked her, but it also grounded her. It made this a transaction. It made it real.
"Fine," Emaline said.
"I am transferring the funds now," Cullen said. "My car is downstairs. Come down. We are going to the hospital."
Emaline pulled the phone away from her ear. A notification popped up on her screen.
Incoming wire transfer: $30,000.00.
Her breath hitched. She walked to the window and looked down at the street.
The dark sedan was parked illegally by the fire hydrant. Cullen was leaning against the rear door, wearing a charcoal gray overcoat. He looked up, his dark eyes locking onto her window. He gave a single nod.
Emaline grabbed her coat. She told Leo to pack a bag for Walter and ran downstairs.
When she pushed through the front doors of the building, Cullen opened the car door for her. He held out his hand.
Emaline hesitated. She looked at his large, clean hand, then placed her fingers in his palm. His grip was warm and firm. A jolt of electricity shot up her arm.
She slid into the leather seat. Cullen got in beside her. The scent of cedarwood and expensive cologne filled the small space.
Emaline pulled a folded piece of notebook paper from her pocket. She handed it to him.
"The IOU," she said. "I signed it."
Cullen took the paper. He did not unfold it. He did not even look at it. He just slid it into the inside pocket of his coat.
"I trust you," Cullen said softly.
The car pulled away from the curb. Emaline stared at his sharp profile.
"Why are you doing this?" she asked. "You could buy a wife. Why me?"
Cullen turned his head. His dark eyes swept over her face, lingering on her bitten lip.
"Because I want to see what a woman with a spine does when she is finally given a sword," Cullen said.
Emaline's heart slammed against her ribs. She looked away, staring out the window, unable to handle the heat in his gaze.
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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.