Flash Marriage To The Vengeful CEO
Debora went to prison to protect the man she loved, only to end up a paroled convict living under the roof of her abusive foster parents.
When they found her positive pregnancy test from a one-night stand, they threatened to kick her out and send her straight back to a cell.
Just as they were about to report her, the stranger from that dark hotel room suddenly appeared.
He paid her foster parents one million dollars to marry her and take her away.
Debora thought she was finally safe.
But the moment they were alone, he looked at her with pure, venomous hatred.
He didn't want a wife; he wanted a prisoner.
He believed Debora was the ruthless murderer who had destroyed his life in a car crash, and he planned to make her suffocate in her own despair.
He didn't know she was just a scapegoat.
To survive and protect her baby, Debora found a job at a bridal shop, only to run into the real culprit—the man who actually drove the car and framed her.
He was now happily engaged to a wealthy heiress.
They deliberately ruined a priceless wedding gown and blamed it on her.
"Kneel on this floor and apologize, or I'm calling the police to revoke your parole!"
Why did she have to rot in hell for his sins, while the man she married wanted to destroy her?
Just as her trembling knees were about to touch the cold marble floor, the heavy glass doors were violently shoved open.
Her billionaire husband strode in like a force of nature, his eyes locked onto the wealthy couple with a terrifying, destructive rage.
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Chapter 2
The heavy silence in the living room was broken only by the sound of Jameson stepping over the threshold. His leather dress shoes thudded against the creaky floorboards. He ignored Burt's gaping mouth and walked straight toward Debora.
He stopped right in front of her. He reached down, offering a large, long-fingered hand.
Debora stared at it. Her chest heaved. She remembered those hands from the dark hotel room a month ago, but the man attached to them now felt like a complete stranger. Slowly, she lifted her own trembling, sweat-slicked hand and placed it in his.
Jameson's fingers closed around hers. His grip was crushing, pulling her up from the floor with a force that made her shoulder joint ache. It wasn't a gentle rescue; it was a claim.
Marlene finally snapped out of her shock. Her greed quickly replaced her anger. She planted her hands on her wide hips and stepped into Jameson's path.
"Who do you think you are?" Marlene shrieked. "You think you can just walk in here and take the girl we raised? She owes us!"
Burt quickly caught on, stepping up beside his wife. "She's a paroled convict. A liability. If you want to take her off our hands, it's going to cost you."
A hot wave of humiliation burned the back of Debora's neck. She yanked her hand, trying to break Jameson's grip. "I am not a piece of property!" she yelled at Burt.
Jameson let out a low, dark chuckle. The sound held no humor. It made the hairs on Debora's arms stand up.
He didn't release her hand. Instead, he reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket with his free hand and pulled out a leather-bound checkbook and a heavy fountain pen.
He didn't ask for a seat. He slapped the checkbook down onto the dusty television stand, uncapped the pen with his thumb, and wrote a string of numbers in quick, sharp strokes. He tore the check free and held it out to Burt, pinched between two fingers.
Burt snatched it. His eyes bulged as he read the numbers. "One... one million dollars?"
Marlene gasped, leaning over Burt's shoulder. The ugly scowl on her face instantly melted into a sickeningly sweet, greedy smile.
Debora stared at the piece of paper, her mind spinning. She looked up at Jameson's hard profile. "Where did you get that kind of money?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. She thought he was just a regular guy from a bar.
"I recently sold off a niche software patent I developed in college," Jameson said, his voice flat, devoid of any attachment to the fortune he was giving away. "It's the entirety of the buyout. Consider it a dowry."
The lie was smooth, flawless. A heavy stone of guilt dropped into Debora's stomach. He was giving up everything he had for her. For a mistake they made in the dark.
Burt shoved the check deep into his pocket. "Go pack your things, Debora. Don't keep the man waiting."
Marlene grabbed Debora's bicep, her fingernails digging into the skin. She dragged Debora toward the narrow kitchen.
The moment they were out of Jameson's sight, Marlene's fake smile vanished. She leaned in close, her cheap perfume suffocating Debora.
Marlene jabbed a finger hard into Debora's collarbone. "You listen to me. That man just paid one million dollars for you, and you better make sure you serve him well and keep him happy. If he gets bored of you and brings you back here, I will call your parole officer and tell him you've been stealing from us. You'll be back in a cell by nightfall."
Debora's jaw clenched so hard her teeth ached. Her eyes burned with unshed tears. She knew Marlene wasn't bluffing. They had sold her.
She didn't say a word. She pulled her arm free and walked toward the tiny closet that served as her bedroom.
She dragged out a faded canvas duffel bag. She shoved her few threadbare t-shirts and jeans inside. From the nightstand, she picked up the only thing of value she owned: a blurry photograph of her biological mother. She carefully slid it between the pages of a paperback book and placed it at the bottom of the bag.
Debora zipped the bag and walked back into the living room. Jameson was standing by the window, his hands clasped behind his back, looking utterly repulsed by his surroundings.
Hearing her footsteps, he turned. His eyes dropped to her pathetic bag. A flicker of mockery danced in his blue eyes, gone as quickly as it appeared.
He didn't offer to carry it. "Follow me," he ordered, turning on his heel and walking out the front door.
Debora gripped the handles of her bag. She didn't look back at Burt and Marlene, who were already arguing over the check. She stepped out into the cold air, following the broad back of the man who had just bought her life.
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8.7
Brought back from a humble life in Montana, Nora found out she was the true biological heiress of the ultra-wealthy Beaumont family.
But her biological parents didn't love her; they loved the fake daughter, Olivia, much more.
The moment she arrived, her father pushed an engagement termination agreement across his massive desk, forcing her to give up her wealthy fiancé so Olivia could have him.
Her mother looked at her with pure disdain.
"You should know your place. Don't reach for things that were never meant for you."
To break her spirit, they moved her into a cramped, dusty servant's room. They even ordered the butler to feed her cold kitchen scraps and gristle.
They wanted to humiliate her, to make her feel like a piece of trash rather than a daughter.
They expected her to cry, to beg, and to be absolutely crushed by the realization that her own flesh and blood saw her only as a liability to their reputation.
They thought the country girl would easily fold under their united front of cruelty.
But Nora felt no sting of betrayal, only the calculating clarity of a chess player.
She calmly signed the paper, pulled out the Beaumont family trust rules, and looked them dead in the eye.
"Since I am the legal heir, I demand what belongs to me. I'm taking the master bedroom."
9.8
When I woke up on the muddy bank of the freezing river, I unlocked a brutal, unfiltered preview of my actual future.
For the past six months, I had been the town's ultimate joke, chasing after a city boy who looked at me like a diseased insect. Everyone thought I jumped into the river because he rejected me.
But the nightmare didn't stop there. In the future I foresaw, my entire family was destroyed. My eldest brother was handcuffed and dragged into a squad car. My second brother died in a pool of blood on the asphalt. My parents passed away from sheer grief and humiliation, and our farm was foreclosed.
Meanwhile, Bart Hawkins—my family's sworn enemy, the boy everyone accused of pushing me, but who actually jumped in to save my life—became a billionaire tech mogul. I ended up starving to death in a damp, moldy basement, completely alone.
I finally understood that I was just a pathetic, tragic side character meant to drag my family into hell. My own sister-in-law, Felicie, had been stealing our food and money, laughing at my misery behind my back.
But right now, my mother was still alive, my brothers were safe, and the farm was ours.
When Felicie walked into my bedroom, playing the devoted sister-in-law with a bowl of clear, meatless broth while a stolen roasted chicken thigh leaked grease through her apron pocket, I didn't play along.
"What's in your pocket, Felicie?"
This time, I was going to tear that horrific future apart with my bare hands.
9.7
I died with blood pooling and betrayal.
My fiancé never loved me-he only wanted. My stepsister never saw me as family. And when I discovered I was carrying his child and tried to expose their affair, they shoved me into a shattered glass table and left me to bleed out alone.
But I woke up a year earlier, with my voice miraculously returned and a second chance burning in my chest.
This time, I refuse to be the silent, obedient sacrifice they used and discarded. This time, I'll make them pay. And when a ruthless billionaire offers me an impossible deal-a fake marriage to save his crumbling empire, I accept without hesitation.
They still see me as that broken, voiceless girl who couldn't fight back.
They have no idea I've already won.
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.
8.8
I've always been the unwanted child-the invisible one. The rebel no one ever tried to understand.
And yet, I never resented my perfect, beloved sister. All I ever wanted was for her to be happy.
But one cruel twist of fate-and a devastating betrayal by someone I trusted-changed everything.
I woke up in a stranger's bed, losing the one thing I had guarded so carefully. Back then, I thought that was my greatest loss.
I was wrong.
Because not long after, my sister introduced me to her fiancé.
And the man standing in front of me... was the same stranger from that night.
Now he haunts me-day and night, in my dreams and in my waking hours. And just when I start to believe the nightmare might finally fade with the dawn, Alan walks back into my life.
This time, he has no intention of letting me forget.
Not the insult I dealt him.
...or that one unforgettable night.
8.6
To escape an abusive ex who blacklisted her from every job in the city, Annabelle fled to New York with nothing but her late grandfather's secret marriage token.
Destitute, she was unexpectedly taken in by the ultra-wealthy Barrera family.
Meeting their sweet, handsome nephew, Davion, she naturally assumed he was her arranged fiancé.
Seeing that Davion already had a girlfriend he loved, Annabelle felt a deep sense of guilt about the secret contract.
Sitting in his passenger seat one morning, she confessed her true identity and offered to help him secretly break the marriage alliance.
But Davion just looked at her in sheer panic.
"What engagement?"
Before Annabelle could explain, his phone accidentally went on speaker.
A low, terrifyingly calm voice echoed through the car.
It was Jasper Barrera—the ruthless, cold-blooded head of the family, and the terrifying tyrant Annabelle had accidentally offended in the estate's greenhouse just days ago.
He had heard every single word of her plan to break the sacred family trust.
Davion's face went completely ashen as he hastily pulled the car over, his hands shaking violently on the steering wheel.
"Anna," he whispered, looking like he had just seen a ghost. "Who do you think you are engaged to?"
That was when the horrifying realization crushed the air out of her lungs.
She wasn't engaged to the sweet nephew. She was engaged to the monster.