Fired By The Father Of My Child
Six years ago, Breanna was shoved into a pitch-black hotel suite by her own uncle.
She was forced to endure a brutal night with a drugged stranger just to keep her grandmother's ventilator running.
Nine months later, she gave birth in a cold underground clinic.
But her uncle immediately snatched the crying newborn from her trembling hands, coldly announcing the baby had died.
For six years, Breanna lived in agonizing grief, working as a lowly hotel cleaner just to survive.
But a cruel setup threw her directly into the path of Elliot Finch, the arrogant billionaire from that dark night.
He did not recognize the woman whose life he had completely ruined.
Instead, he looked at her like she was rotting garbage, had his guards drag her into a wet alley, and mercilessly got her fired.
"If I ever see your face again, I will make sure you cannot get a job cleaning toilets."
Breanna was suffocating from the injustice, stripped of her dignity and her family's only lifeline.
Yet, when she instinctively protected a traumatized little boy from bullies, she discovered he was Elliot's son.
The boy clung to her neck, crying and desperately begging his father to let her stay.
But Elliot just threw a massive check at her chest, violently accusing her of brainwashing a sick child for a meal ticket.
Looking at the toxic disgust in his eyes, something inside Breanna finally broke.
She picked up the check, ripped the millions into tiny shreds, and let them rain down on his expensive shoes.
"Keep your dirty money."
She turned her back on the crying boy and the stunned billionaire, deciding she would no longer be their victim.
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Chapter 8
Elliot didn't say a word. He stepped forward, ignoring the gasps of the crowd, and grabbed Breanna's uninjured left wrist.
His grip was a steel trap.
"Put the boy in the car," he ordered his men without looking away from Breanna.
He dragged her toward the center SUV and shoved her roughly into the back seat. The doors locked with a heavy clunk. The convoy sped away.
The air inside the SUV was suffocating. Elliot sat on the far side of the leather bench, eyes closed, but murderous rage radiated from every inch of the cabin.
Cole pressed tightly against Breanna's side. He held her bleeding right hand carefully in his two small palms, his lower lip trembling, eyes rimmed with red.
Breanna ignored the throbbing pain. She used her left hand to stroke Cole's soft hair, offering a silent, reassuring smile.
Elliot's eyes snapped open. Seeing his son hold this manipulative woman's hand made his stomach twist with violent, irrational sickness.
Twenty minutes later, the convoy pulled into the underground bunker of the Finch family's private hospital.
They rode up to the top floor in silence and entered a massive, sterile VIP suite.
A nurse approached Cole to check the small scratch on his cheek. Cole violently pushed her away, screaming, until Breanna knelt down and held his other hand. Only then did he let the nurse clean the cut.
Another doctor stepped toward Breanna with a bandage.
"Get out," Elliot commanded. His voice was quiet, but it echoed off the walls. "All of you. Out."
The medical team scrambled out. The heavy door clicked shut.
Elliot slowly walked toward Breanna. He backed her up until her shoulders hit the cold wall. He placed both hands on the wall beside her head, trapping her in his shadow.
"How long did it take you?" Elliot whispered, his breath hitting her face. "How long did you stalk my family to find out where my son goes to school?"
Breanna's chest heaved. "I didn't know he was your son. I was in the park looking for a job. It was a coincidence."
Elliot let out a dark, cruel laugh. "There are no coincidences in Manhattan. Only calculated moves."
He leaned an inch closer. "Using a six-year-old boy with an emotional disorder as your stepping stone to my wallet. You are the most disgusting creature I have ever met."
Tears of pure, burning rage filled Breanna's eyes.
Cole sensed the danger. He jumped off the examination bed and ran over. He wedged his small body between Elliot's legs and pushed hard against his father's knees.
"Stop it!" Cole screamed. "Don't be mean to her!"
Elliot stared down at his son. The sight of his own blood defending this woman made the vein in his neck throb.
He grabbed Cole by the back of his jacket, lifted him effortlessly, and handed him to the bodyguard outside the door. "Take him to the scan room."
The door shut again.
Elliot reached into his tailored jacket and pulled out a leather checkbook. He clicked a pen and wrote a number so large it would make a Wall Street banker sweat.
He ripped the check out and threw it directly at Breanna's face.
The paper hit her cheek and fluttered to the floor.
"Take it," Elliot sneered. "Take it and leave New York tonight. If I see you within a hundred miles of my son again, I will bury you."
Breanna looked at the check on the floor. The ultimate insult. A price tag on her dignity.
She slowly bent down and picked it up. She looked Elliot dead in the eye.
She grabbed the edges of the thick paper—but she didn't rip it.
Instead, she held it up between them. The paper trembled in her fingers—not from weakness, but from the effort of holding back. Her injured palm throbbed. A thin line of blood seeped through the bandage and stained the corner of the check.
"Your money," she said, her voice shaking with absolute defiance, "cannot buy my soul."
She didn't rip it. She didn't need to. She let the check hang in the air between them—an accusation, not an acceptance.
Then she let it fall.
The paper drifted down and landed at Elliot's feet.
The room went silent. Elliot stared at the check on the floor, then at the blood seeping through Breanna's bandage. His jaw tightened, but he said nothing.
She had made her point without lifting a finger.
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8.9
I was tossed into a dark alley like rotting garbage, bleeding and grieving the child I had just lost.
When I was finally brought back to my fiancé Angelo's penthouse, instead of comfort, I was met with absolute disgust.
His family declared me "unclean" after the kidnapping. Angelo coldly announced he was burying the scandal by marrying my sweet, innocent cousin, Carissa.
When we were alone, Carissa stood over my bed, her voice dripping with venomous delight.
"My father arranged the kidnapping. And now, Angelo and I can finally be together."
Before I could react, she forced a silver letter opener into my hand, deliberately stabbed her own shoulder, and let out a bloodcurdling scream.
Angelo stormed in, struck me across the face, and gathered a sobbing Carissa into his arms, looking at me with absolute revulsion.
The family matriarch appeared at the door, her cold eyes sweeping over the scene before she gave a chilling order to the maids.
"Clean this up."
They pinned me down and brutally drove the blade directly into my chest.
I choked on my own blood, staring at the man who had promised me the world as he turned his back, calling my murder a "mercy."
As my heart beat its final agonizing rhythm, I made a silent vow to the shadows that if there was a next life, I would have my vendetta.
When I opened my eyes again, there was no blood, only the soft silk of my nightgown.
I had returned to the day before my eighteenth birthday.
This time, I wouldn't play the desperate victim. I was going to ally with the Devil of Chicago and burn them all to the ground.
7.6
The harsh glare of the spotlight hit Harper's custom wedding dress as she smiled at her groom.
But a single phone call from his mistress, Lila, made Chase violently shove his way down the aisle and sprint out of the hotel.
He left Harper to face the flashing cameras and the mockery of hundreds of guests.
Her mother-in-law dragged her into a hallway and slapped her hard across the face.
"You cannot even keep your own man in the room. You are making a mockery of this family."
When Harper rushed to the hospital, Chase blamed her for Lila's theatrical, fake miscarriage.
He threatened to pull every cent of capital from Harper's investment firm if she dared to walk away.
The Young family then used the media to frame Harper, turning her into a public pariah who viciously "killed" an unborn child.
Mobbed by ruthless paparazzi, Harper was pushed into the freezing rain, her knees bleeding on the concrete.
She couldn't accept that her entire life and career were being destroyed by a mistress's pathetic lie.
When Chase later tried to buy her silence with a pink diamond—the exact same one he had just gifted Lila—her remaining love turned to absolute ice.
But fate intervened when she was rescued from the mob by Antoni Donovan, the most ruthless billionaire on Wall Street and her biggest corporate rival.
Discovering that Antoni was actually her best friend's older brother, a dangerous smile spread across Harper's face.
She picked up his gold-lettered business card.
She was done being the victim; she was going to use the wolf of Wall Street to crush her ex-husband.
7.8
Andrea was trapped in a suffocating marriage with billionaire Gregory Morse, forced to live as the pathetic substitute for his dead fiancée.
When armed intruders broke into their estate in the dead of night, she called her husband in pure terror.
"Stop playing these cheap, attention-seeking games," Gregory sneered with disgust, and hung up the phone.
She barely escaped with her life, but the cruelty only escalated. At the family mansion, his dead fiancée's sister deliberately scalded Andrea's hand with boiling tea. Instead of defending his wife, Gregory publicly humiliated her, ordering her to clean up the mess while calling her a stray dog.
That night, hiding in the dark wine cellar, Andrea overheard a chilling confession.
Gregory admitted to his brother that he knew Andrea was completely innocent of the car crash that killed his fiancée. He knew she had been framed.
Why did he marry her? Just to use her as a psychological punching bag to vent his twisted grief. He watched her suffer every single day, treating her like disposable trash, while violently threatening anyone who showed her an ounce of kindness.
He thought she was just a useless, helpless shadow who would quietly endure his torment forever.
He had no idea that behind her submissive facade, she was secretly Madame Lan, the apex predator of the global fashion world. And now, she was ready to burn his empire to the ground.
7.9
For five years, April Gamble loved Julian Travis with everything she had, trusting him completely.
But on a stormy night, he casually tossed a liquidation agreement at her feet, single-handedly destroying her grandfather's company.
He coldly admitted he only dated her to steal Vance Group's internal financial data.
"You were convenient," Julian said, swirling his whiskey without a shred of guilt.
Before April could even process the brutal betrayal, a breaking news alert lit up her phone.
She watched in absolute horror as her grandfather jumped from the ledge of the Vance Tower on live television.
Julian looked at her writhing, screaming form with utter boredom and simply ordered his bodyguard to throw her out.
Blinded by grief and tears, April sped into the torrential rain, only to be completely crushed by a hydroplaning transport truck at an intersection.
As the shattered glass tore into her skin and the metal crushed her ribs, she died with a hatred so pure it made her teeth ache.
Why did five years of devotion mean absolutely nothing to him? Why did her family have to die just to feed his ruthless greed?
When she opened her eyes again, the harsh hospital lights blinded her, but the familiar burn scar on her arm was gone.
She wasn't the betrayed financial analyst April Gamble anymore.
She had woken up in the body of Altagracia Blanchard, the most notorious, obscenely wealthy heiress in New York.
Julian had taken everything from her, but now, armed with a billionaire's empire, she was going to bury him.
7.1
For six years, I played the pathetic, wolfless Omega to honor the dying wish of the late Alpha who protected me.
But on our sixth anniversary, my fated mate, Alpha Kian, was photographed looking tenderly at his mistress.
When he finally stormed into our penthouse, he didn't apologize. Instead, he threw a fifty-million-dollar check onto the bed.
"Take the money and accept my rejection obediently, or I'll show you what happens when you defy an Alpha."
To force my compliance, he terminated all trade agreements with my best friend's pack, pushing them to the brink of bankruptcy. He accused me of blackmailing his grandfather into our marriage, entirely blind to the fact that his beloved mistress was actually a banished, feral Rogue.
I had spent six years swallowing my pride, drinking toxic herbs to suppress my true White Wolf scent, and enduring his absolute disgust just to keep his pack safe.
Why did I bleed for a man who despised my very existence?
I looked at the blood money, and the suffocating sorrow in my chest was instantly replaced by white-hot fury.
I didn't take a single cent. Instead, I submitted the rejection papers myself, dropped my pathetic disguise, and walked out into the freezing rain.
A towering warrior with a black umbrella dropped to one knee before me in the mud.
It was time to stop hiding and return home as the billionaire heir of the legendary Silvermoon Pack.
8.4
In her past life, Serena Vale was the perfect daughter and sister. She sacrificed everything, her dreams, her university admission, and even her inheritance, so her stepsister could live the life she deserved.
But kindness was repaid with betrayal.
At twenty-eight, just hours after her billionaire fiancé finally proposed, Serena was poisoned by the very sister she had spent her life protecting.
When she opens her eyes again, Serena is eighteen, back to the day before she is supposed to give up her university admission to her stepsister.
This time, she refuses.
She keeps her future.
She takes back her inheritance.
And the cold billionaire her sister desperately wanted?
Serena decides to claim him first.
Not because she loves him but because she knows that in ten years, Adrian Kingsley will become one of the richest men in the world.
But things start changing.
The supposedly distant and emotionless billionaire is watching her closely... protecting her... and looking at her as if she belongs to him.
And sometimes, when their eyes meet, Serena wonders
Does he remember their past life too?
This time, Serena isn't the naive girl who died with regrets.
This time, she's here for revenge