His Cruel Revenge, Her Secret Child
Rory stood on the witness stand, forced by her father into an impossible choice: secure her dying mother's medical funding, or save her innocent boyfriend.
She looked Corbin right in his trusting eyes and lied to the court, testifying that he was the one driving the car during the fatal hit-and-run, sending him to a maximum-security prison for ten years.
The betrayal destroyed him. Corbin's father died of a heart attack upon hearing the guilty verdict. Six years later, Corbin returned as a ruthless billionaire and systematically blacklisted Rory from every job in the city. He cornered her into singing at his private club, humiliating her by forcing her to drink scotch—knowing she was severely allergic—and making her throw away his promise ring just to earn a stack of cash.
"Remember this moment. This is only the beginning."
She endured his cruel revenge because she was hiding a desperate secret: she was raising his five-year-old daughter, Willa. But when Willa's congenital heart defect suddenly worsened, requiring an impossible one-million-dollar surgery, Rory realized Corbin's calculated blockade had left her completely trapped with no way to save their child.
Staring at the sterile hospital walls, the last shred of her guilt burned away, replaced by a cold, hard resolve. He had destroyed her career and backed her into a corner, but he was the only one with the money. Wiping her tears, Rory turned and headed straight for Vance Tower.
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Chapter 3
The interview was going well. Shockingly well.
It was Rory's tenth interview this month, held in a sunlit office in a mid-tier design firm. Mr. Abernathy, a kind-faced man with a soft paunch, was beaming as he flipped through her portfolio.
"This is exceptional work, Miss Conway. Truly. The kind of fresh perspective we've been looking for."
Rory felt a surge of hope so powerful it almost made her dizzy. This was it. This was the one. She could almost taste the relief, the steady paycheck, the good health insurance for Willa.
"I just need to run a final background check, a formality, really," Mr. Abernathy said, turning to his computer. He typed her name into a database.
Rory watched as his smile faltered. His brow furrowed. He clicked his mouse a few times, his pleasant expression dissolving into one of discomfort and then outright panic.
He cleared his throat, suddenly unable to meet her eyes. "Ah. Well. Miss Conway, we... we appreciate you coming in. Your work is, as I said, very impressive. But, ah, we'll need to... consider other candidates. We'll be in touch."
The familiar chill washed over her. It had happened again. The open door, slammed shut in her face for no discernible reason.
She walked out of the building and onto the bustling New York street, the hope draining out of her, leaving a hollow ache in its place. It didn't make sense. It was as if her name itself was a poison.
Her phone buzzed. A text from her landlord: Rent is three days late, Rory. Followed by another from the pharmacy: Willa's prescription is ready for pickup. Co-pay: $250.
Desperation was a physical thing, a tightening in her chest that made it hard to breathe.
Her phone rang. It was Tierney Walsh, her best friend and the one person who had stuck by her through everything.
"Hey," Tierney's voice was a welcome warmth. "You sound like hell. Another no?"
"Worse than a no," Rory said, her voice thick. "It was a yes, Tierney. It was a yes until he typed my name into a computer."
There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Rory... I heard something. I didn't want to tell you, didn't want to believe it. But my cousin who works in HR downtown... she said there's a whisper going around. An unofficial blacklist."
Rory stopped walking. "A what?"
"A list of people you don't hire. And your name is on it. Someone with a lot of power, a lot of reach, is making sure every design firm in this city shuts you out."
The world tilted on its axis. It wasn't bad luck. It was a deliberate, systematic attack. And she knew, with a certainty that chilled her to the bone, who was behind it. Corbin.
"But you need money, right? Like, right now?" Tierney's voice turned practical.
"Desperately."
"Okay. Don't hang up. I have an idea. It's not ideal, but it pays. It pays well. In cash. No questions, no background checks." Tierney took a breath. "The club I work at, The Onyx Room, they're looking for a new lounge singer."
Rory's stomach dropped. A lounge singer? She'd been the lead singer of a band in college, a passion she'd long since buried. But singing in a smoky club for strangers... it felt like another piece of herself she'd have to sell.
"Tierney, I can't..."
"It's a high-end private club, Rory. Not some dive bar. The clients are all Wall Street types with more money than sense. The tips alone are insane. It would be enough. More than enough for Willa's medicine."
Willa. The name was a homing beacon, pulling all her scattered, panicked thoughts into a single point of focus. Her pride didn't matter. Her dignity was a luxury she couldn't afford.
That night, she sat by Willa's bed, watching the gentle rise and fall of her small chest. She looked at the stack of bills on her nightstand, a monument to her failure. The decision was already made.
The next day, she stood before Vince Kowalski, the manager of The Onyx Room. He was a shrewd man with tired eyes who looked like he'd seen it all. He led her to a small, empty stage, pointed at a piano, and said, "Show me what you've got."
Rory sat down, her fingers finding the familiar keys. She sang a simple, heartbreaking ballad, pouring all the fear and exhaustion of the last six years into the melody.
When she finished, the silence in the empty club was profound.
Vince stared at her, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. "There's a story in that voice, kid," he said gruffly. "People pay to hear stories."
He hired her on the spot and gave her a cash advance for the first week. Rory held the thick stack of hundred-dollar bills, the paper feeling both shameful and life-saving in her hand. She paid the rent. She bought Willa's medicine. For the first time in a long time, she could breathe.
She didn't know she was breathing borrowed air.
High above the city, in the sterile quiet of Vance Industries, Miles Finch delivered his report.
"Sir, as per your instructions, Rory Conway has been blacklisted from every reputable design and architecture firm in the tri-state area."
Corbin didn't look up from the document he was signing. "Her current status?"
"She took a job, sir. As a singer. At a private club called The Onyx Room."
Corbin's pen stopped moving. A slow, cold smile spread across his lips. The Onyx Room. The very place he and his associates conducted half their business. The place he practically owned.
The irony was exquisite. He had wanted to back her into a corner. Instead, she had walked right into the center of his cage.
"Is that so?" he murmured, the smile turning predatory. "What a... coincidence."
He picked up his phone and dialed a number from his contacts. "Julian. Kade. Feel like a drink tonight? I know a place with some new entertainment."
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9.1
I stood alone at the marble altar, the silence of the temple pressing against my eardrums.
It was my Mating Ceremony, but the groom was missing.
My phone buzzed with a notification: a livestream of my mate, Alpha Cain, skipping our union to welcome my sister, Eris, home.
In the video, he held her like she was fragile glass, captioning it: "True power recognizes true power."
When I returned to the Pack House, humiliated, I wasn't met with an apology.
I was met with a slap from my mother.
Eris, feigning a powerful "Alpha Aura," claimed my mere scent was poisoning her.
To "save" her, my family locked me in my room.
But the true betrayal came when I overheard their hushed whispers through the door.
"Use Vera," my mother said, her voice chillingly practical.
"She recovers fast. We can drain her blood weekly for Eris. She can stay as a servant to raise Cain and Eris's pups."
My blood ran cold.
They didn't just neglect me; they planned to harvest me like livestock.
They thought I was the weak Omega they exiled to the North years ago to peel potatoes.
They had no idea that in the North, I wasn't a servant.
I was Commander V, a warrior forged in ice and blood.
I reached under my bed and pulled out my black tactical duffel.
"Screw the meatloaf," I whispered.
I wasn't just leaving. I was going to war.
7.2
Clara's husband of three years walked into their penthouse with two lawyers.
He threw a divorce agreement on the table, demanding she sign away all her assets. If she refused, he would bankrupt her family and send her mother to federal prison.
He did it all for his new girlfriend, Corinne. After stripping Clara of everything, Kane stood by while Corinne publicly humiliated her, stepping on her fingers and mocking her misery. When Kane suspected Clara might be pregnant, he dragged her to a private clinic. He forced her onto an examination table and ordered a deeply invasive medical check-up, treating her like absolute garbage just to ensure she wasn't carrying his heir.
Lying on the cold medical bed in a thin paper gown, Clara's heart completely shattered. She didn't understand how the man who once promised her forever could turn into such a ruthless monster. She was indeed pregnant, but she knew if he found out, he would steal her baby and destroy her completely.
With the help of a tech-genius friend, Clara faked a negative test result and escaped his clutches. The next day, she walked into their company, threw a bold "I QUIT" note right in the mistress's face, and walked away. Touching her belly, Clara swore she would return to make them pay for every single thing they had done.
9.3
A pitiful wolfless Omega, Lana discovers that she is pregnant for her beloved fiancée and Alpha to be, Asher. He is the only man she has ever loved, but her world turns upside down when her Fiancée coldly reveals that he is getting married to her sister who is also already pregnant for him.
To make matters worse, her cruel sister and cheating Fiancé banish her from her only home!
Lana is devastated, but thankfully, her best friend Jasper, helps her runaway and hide her pregnancy from her former fiancée.
8 years later, Lana has become the mother to Asher's triplets and is engaged to be married to her best friend Jasper.
But by a cruel twist of fate, Alpha Asher suddenly changes his mind and kidnaps her!
So what is Lana supposed to do when she forced to choose between two powerful men, while also fighting off the traitors and enemies surrounding her?
8.6
For two years, I was trapped behind my own eyes, a prisoner in my own skull.
A crazed fan had hijacked my body after a brutal car crash, wearing my skin like a cheap suit.
When my soul finally locked back into my flesh in a cramped hospital room, I realized she had destroyed everything I built.
This parasitic stalker had drained my massive fortune to zero, buying luxury gifts for a mediocre actor and turning me into the internet's most hated woman.
My phone was flooded with death threats, and the hashtag demanding I go to hell was trending at number one.
Even the hospital nurses despised me. One marched into my room, raising her hand to violently slap my pale cheek.
"You psychotic bitch, you make me sick!"
Worse, my sprawling Beverly Hills estate had been foreclosed and sold to a mysterious billionaire named Kasey Dominguez.
I had absolutely nothing left. No money. No reputation. No home.
The sheer violation of watching a psychotic stranger ruin my life while I was locked in the passenger seat of my own mind made my blood boil.
I refused to let her destroy my legacy.
As the nurse's hand descended, my atrophied muscles snapped into action.
I twisted her wrist until the joint popped, grabbed the keys to my freedom, and slipped out into the cold Los Angeles night.
I was going to take my life back, starting with the billionaire who thought he owned my house.
9.0
Carli followed an anonymous text to a dark garage, only to find her fiancé of seven years tangled with another woman in his Porsche.
She smashed his window, threw her engagement ring at his face, and walked away.
But the betrayal didn't stop there. Her own family sided with the cheater. Her father slapped her across the face so hard she bled, demanding she hand over her late aunt's trust fund.
"If you don't do exactly as you're told tonight, I will freeze every credit card in your name," her father roared.
Forced to attend the exclusive Gutierrez family gala, Carli watched her ex-fiancé parade his cheap mistress to humiliate her, while her stepsister tried to publicly ruin her.
Suddenly, a violent screech echoed as the massive crystal chandelier above them snapped from the ceiling.
In a split second of pure instinct, Vaughn shoved his mistress to safety and threw himself to the ground, completely abandoning Carli to be crushed.
Staring up at the plummeting glass, Carli felt the crushing reality that her entire life had been surrounded by monsters.
But the fatal impact never came.
A massive force yanked her into a hard chest, shielding her body entirely from the explosive shrapnel.
Carli opened her eyes to find Fletcher Gutierrez—the ruthless billionaire king of Wall Street and the masked stranger from her reckless one-night stand—bleeding heavily over her.
Feeling his warm blood on her hands, Carli knew the game had just changed.
8.9
My family's company went bankrupt, and my biological father was lying in the ICU, kept alive by machines that cost tens of thousands a day.
I thought it was just a tragic business failure, until I caught my mother in bed with my stepfather.
They had secretly transferred all our assets months ago, deliberately bankrupting the company and leaving my father to die.
To pay the hospital bills, my stepfather forced me to a private club, trying to sell me to a sleazy investor.
When I refused, he slapped me across the face, and my mother just looked at me with cold, dead eyes.
"Be realistic, Jaelynn. A woman's body is a tool. Use it to get what you need."
Later, right before my father's emergency surgery, my stepfather signed a Do Not Resuscitate order and froze the medical accounts.
"If you don't get on your knees and spread your legs for him, I will tell the hospital to pull your father's plug."
Standing in the freezing rain, covered in mud and blood, I stared at the astronomical hospital bill in my hand.
My own family had plotted to murder my father and sell me to the highest bidder. The betrayal shattered every ounce of sanity I had left.
I didn't cry or beg them anymore.
Instead, I pulled out a water-stained, gold-embossed business card.
It belonged to Dolph Valentine, the most ruthless billionaire in New York and my ex-fiancé's uncle.
If they wanted to destroy my life, I was going to sell my soul to the biggest monster of them all and drag them straight to hell.