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 9
The red light above the emergency room doors glared like a warning.
Emaline sat on the hard plastic chair in the waiting room. She was staring blankly at the dried blood flaking off her fingers.
Leo was asleep, his head resting heavily on her shoulder.
Cullen was pacing near the vending machines. He had his phone pressed to his ear. His voice was low, but the tone was sharp and commanding. He did not sound like a project manager. He sounded like a king giving orders to his generals.
Emaline watched him. The fear in her chest was slowly making room for confusion.
Cullen hung up the phone and walked over to her. He crouched down so he was eye-level with her. He reached out and gently pried her fingers apart, stopping her from picking at her skin.
"Stop hurting yourself," Cullen said softly.
"The ER doctor said his lungs are collapsing," Emaline whispered, her voice hollow. "They said they might not be able to stop the bleeding."
"They are wrong," Cullen said flatly. "My friend is almost here."
Emaline let out a bitter, broken laugh. "Your friend? Cullen, this is Presbyterian. They have the best surgeons in New York. A friend is not going to fix this."
Before Cullen could answer, the double doors of the waiting room slammed open.
A tall, strikingly handsome man in a tailored suit and a white lab coat strode into the room. He moved with an air of absolute arrogance and brilliance. Two hospital administrators were practically jogging to keep up with him.
Cullen stood up.
The doctor walked straight to Cullen. They shook hands briefly.
"Where is he?" the doctor asked, his voice crisp.
"Trauma Room One," Cullen said, pointing down the hall.
The doctor nodded and pushed through the restricted doors without looking back.
Emaline stood up, accidentally waking Leo. She stared at the swinging doors in shock.
"Who was that?" she asked.
"Dr. Elisha Vinson," Cullen said, slipping his hands into his pockets. "He specializes in advanced thoracic trauma."
Emaline's jaw dropped. "Elisha Vinson? I have read about him. He runs a private clinic for billionaires. He does not do ER consults. How do you know him?"
Cullen's expression tightened. He looked down at the linoleum floor for a fraction of a second before meeting her gaze. "My old college roommate was Elisha's younger brother, who passed away," Cullen said, his voice dropping to a somber, quiet register. "Elisha always felt he owed our family a debt of gratitude for being there during that time. I have never called on him for anything, until today. I told him it was life or death."
Two agonizing hours passed.
Finally, the doors opened. Dr. Vinson walked out, pulling off his surgical cap.
Emaline ran to him, her heart in her throat.
"The bleeding is stopped," Dr. Vinson said smoothly. "We repaired the ruptured vessel. He is stable."
Emaline burst into tears of pure relief. She covered her face with her hands.
"However," Dr. Vinson continued, looking at Cullen. "He cannot stay here. He needs the hyperbaric chambers at my clinic to heal the lung tissue properly."
Emaline's relief vanished, replaced by a crushing weight.
"Your clinic?" Emaline choked out. "I cannot afford that. I signed a note for thirty thousand, but your clinic must cost hundreds of thousands."
"Do not worry about the cost, Ms. Finley," Dr. Vinson smiled politely.
Cullen stepped up behind Emaline. He placed a warm hand on the small of her back.
"I will handle the transfer fees," Cullen said.
Emaline spun around to face him. "No! I cannot owe you that much money. I will never be able to pay it back!"
Cullen looked down at her. His thumb brushed against the curve of her spine, sending a shiver through her body.
"You do not have to pay it back," Cullen said, his voice dropping to a low, intimate murmur. "Consider it a dowry."
Emaline's breath hitched. Her eyes widened.
A dowry. He was talking about the marriage proposal. He was buying her father's life in exchange for her hand.
She looked at Dr. Vinson, who was pretending to read a chart, completely unfazed by the conversation.
Emaline looked back at Cullen. His dark eyes were waiting for her answer.
She swallowed hard. "Okay," she whispered. "Okay. Transfer 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.