HIS Minnie Mouse
When Claire agrees to play her cold-hearted boss's girlfriend for a weekend, she never expects a fake romance to turn into a nine-month marriage contract worth millions. She becomes trapped in the world of the ultra wealthy and her abusive ex resurfaces to blackmail her with millions. She also falls in love with her cold-hearted boss, leading to an affair that gets her pregnant. But the reason for the contract marriage is no longer necessary. What happens now that Claire has no reason to stay married to her cold boss?
Chapters
Share
Chapter 4
Scott's cold hands slide over my boobs, cupping them and squeezing them gently. One finger brushes over my nipple and I gasp in pleasure and surprise.
It's been far too long.
His groin area, which is hard, presses into me deliciously. The fabric of the jean shorts I'm wearing for the homely feel is causing a lot of friction that feels perfect.
"Ah," I moan, as he presses even harder. I should stop this, but I have zero control over how I feel.
Fucking ovulation.
"Ahem!" Lady Jessica clears her throat in the doorway. I jump away from him like I've been caught doing something wrong-I mean, I have.
My cheeks flame red.
She gives me a judgmental look, or maybe it's just my imagination.
"It was nice having breakfast with you, two," she finally says in an impassive tone after a few minutes of silence. "While I'd like to stay and ask questions about you, I have a commitment somewhere else."
I nod, licking my lips and then biting them softly.
"Have you heard from Rose lately?" his grandmother suddenly asks. "You two used to be close."
Close? Try knee-deep in her pussy yesterday.
But of course, I don't say the words out loud.
"Used to be."
"I always thought it'd lead to something... more positive."
"Like?"
"Marriage, and of course, a business merger. It'll be good for both families."
"I thought you were content with me finding love?"
"Love coming with other advantages instead of just love is often better."
"I'll accompany you out," Scott says, stepping away from me. "Why not ship Rose with one of your other grandsons?"
I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.
She didn't approve of me, but it didn't matter.
While they're gone, I decide to clear up the dining table and do the dishes. Then I change into normal clothes and get my bag.
As I reach the main entrance, Scott opens the door and sighs while he looks at me. Every inch of what he had displayed before is completely gone.
Seriously, who was I kidding?
It was all for show.
He had definitely known his grandmother would come looking in the kitchen. He wanted her to catch us in the act so it could be even more believable that we weren't just lovey-dovey in front of her.
"You are leaving already?"
"Yes, sir."
"Send me my schedule for Monday. I may have to shift things around."
"Okay, sir. As soon as I get home."
"My grandmother will be staying in New York now," he tells me. "A few blocks down from this penthouse. Where I grew up with her."
"That's lovely."
"With nine months left, she wants to be closer to me." His eyes have a distant look in them and for the first time, I think Scott might be heartbroken.
From what I knew, his parents had died when he was only nine and since then, his grandmother had raised him and his younger sister until death took her away. Now his grandmother was going to be gone, and the other family members he had-cousins, uncles... It was no news that he didn't get along with them.
He blinked rapidly, his face turning normal again. "I would like for this arrangement to continue."
"Huh?"
"We will keep dating... for two months. Then I'll propose to you, and we will get married."
"Huh?"
"Well, she thinks I have found the one and while she wants to dig into your personal life, she is happy I am happy. She wants to die knowing I'm in love, and even if it means lying to her... as long as she's happy."
"I'm your secretary," I deadpan. "Sooner or later, she is going to find out."
He shrugs nonchalantly. "People date at work."
"She doesn't even approve of me, you heard what she said."
"She will come around eventually," he replies, walking past me. "I'll be paying you generously."
"Frankly speaking," I begin, crossing my arms on my chest. "You already pay me quite well. And while I don't have the kind of wealth you do, I live very well above average. In fact, I can be considered rich."
"Well, then you can be richer. I may have money, but I love spending my grandmother's money," he shrugs. "Imagine having to spend my money however you like. Surely, you'd like to get your revenge on me by sending you on ridiculous errands, and you can do that by misusing my card."
"So you do know your errands are ridiculous?"
"Say yes."
"No, thank you," I smile.
"Five million."
"Noooo," I drawl out.
"A black card. And I'll pay for everything you need during that period."
"It's still a no," I sigh. "We work together and honestly, everything that happened today... shouldn't have happened."
"Kissing? That's not a big deal."
Yes. And an intense session on your kitchen counter that I'm still embarrassed from.
"It wouldn't work.
"
"Think about it and get back to me within three days."
You may also like
9.0
Adaline Poole thought she had escaped her family's toxic corporate grip by moving to London and adopting a stray cat named Monty.
But when she returns to her empty apartment, her father delivers a chilling ultimatum: he has kidnapped the cat and will euthanize it by morning unless she accepts an arranged marriage with Barron Cooke, a notoriously elusive billionaire.
Her entire family becomes complicit in her sale. Her mother demands she secure their elite status, and her brother secretly spies on her social media to feed Barron her every move. Horrified to discover Barron is a thirty-three-year-old "fossil" twelve years her senior, Adaline resorts to sabotage. She goes to a Soho club, takes a scandalous photo with a frat boy, and sends it to the old billionaire to disgust him into canceling their upcoming dinner.
But her rebellion backfires horribly when the frat boy spikes her drink with a powerful narcotic. As her body burns with a terrifying, feverish heat, she collapses in a dark corridor. Stripped of her phone and betrayed by her bloodline, she is left utterly defenseless as a predator approaches to drag her away.
Suddenly, the heavy fire door is kicked open by a towering, terrifyingly handsome stranger who effortlessly neutralizes her attacker.
"Please... help me," Adaline begs, deliriously throwing her burning body into his arms.
She has absolutely no idea that the handsome savior she is clinging to is Barron Cooke himself.
7.3
Eloise was the untouchable Brandt family heiress, just one audition away from landing a lead movie role and escaping her golden cage.
But overnight, her family's empire completely collapsed.
With her father dying of heart failure, her mother forced her to beg the only man who could save them: Christian Clarke.
Christian was the ruthless billionaire who had publicly humiliated Eloise in college, ripping up her love letter in front of a laughing crowd.
Now, he tossed a fifty-million-dollar acquisition contract on the table.
"What exactly is the Brandt heiress putting up for sale today?"
To secure her father's medical care, Eloise was forced to sign a suffocating marriage contract, selling herself as a corporate tax shield.
He moved her into his freezing penthouse and treated her like a purchased asset. He mocked her attempts to cook him dinner, yet pinned her against the wall with punishing, possessive kisses whenever she tried to pull away.
Eloise's pride was entirely shattered.
She didn't understand why he was doing this. If he hated her so much and only wanted revenge, why did his touch carry such an agonizing, desperate heat?
Determined to survive, she went to her final audition and miraculously won the lead role, crying tears of joy because she had finally earned something on her own.
She had no idea that the cold-blooded monster sleeping beside her had just secretly threatened to destroy all of Hollywood to give it to her.
9.7
For three years, I was the dutiful wife of billionaire Ervin Valdez.
On our third wedding anniversary, he came home smelling of his mistress's perfume, pinned me down, and brutally mocked me.
His mistress, Sylvia, had even sent me a fake ultrasound report to force me out of the picture.
In Ervin's eyes, I was just a vicious, calculating liar who used a pregnancy to trap him into marriage.
He didn't care that I had actually lost that baby, nor did he know the trauma of my gambling father selling me to a dark club where I was assaulted by a stranger.
When I finally handed him the signed divorce papers, giving up all assets, and left the penthouse with nothing but an old suitcase, he just sneered.
"She is playing a game of hard to get. She won't last three days before she comes crying back."
He froze all my bank accounts, let his mistress humiliate me in public, and waited coldly for me to starve and beg.
He thought my entire existence relied on his wealth, completely confident that I would inevitably surrender to his control.
But he was wrong.
I calmly opened my old laptop, bypassed the complex encryptions, and looked at the dozens of unread emails from top-tier global brands begging for my return.
I resurrected my hidden identity as the legendary jewelry designer "R," and walked straight into the top design firm in Manhattan.
"It is time to find myself again."
9.1
June woke up transmigrated into the body of a ruthless billionaire's toxic, disposable wife.
Before she could even process the massive Beverly Hills mansion, a cold system voice announced she had exactly five minutes of lifespan remaining.
To survive, she was forced to bind with the system and strictly maintain the original owner's "brainless, abusive drama queen" persona to earn hours to live.
She was forced to violently slap hot coffee out of a terrified maid's hands and physically spank her manipulative five-year-old stepson.
When she tried to escape this nightmare by throwing divorce papers at her terrifying husband, Isaac Walton, he simply ripped them to shreds.
Every time she tried to be reasonable or show a hint of kindness, the system tortured her with agonizing cardiac pain, cementing her status as the most hated monster in the family.
The most absurd part happened when she threw a hysterical, system-mandated tantrum over a gossip magazine, and Isaac's icy demeanor suddenly melted.
He gently touched her hair, offering the one thing she desperately needed.
"Stop crying. I'll handle it."
Just as a spark of hope ignited in her chest, the system's critical death warning exploded in her skull: accepting his sympathy would instantly deduct thirty days of her life.
To stay alive, June had no choice but to violently slap away the only hand reaching out to save her, forcing herself to play the greedy villain while her husband's gaze turned dangerously dark.
7.5
I spent ten years blindly devoted to my husband, Kyler, building a perfect life together.
When I went into premature labor, he held my hand and promised everything would be fine.
But the moment I woke up in the VIP delivery room, the doctor coldly declared my newborn daughter dead.
Kyler rushed in, his face a mask of grief, insisting on taking her body away immediately to handle the arrangements.
If I hadn't heard my supposedly dead baby's telepathic voice echoing in my head, I would have handed her over.
She told me Kyler had poisoned my prenatal vitamins to induce early labor.
He bribed the medical team to fake her death so he could harvest her rare stem cells to save his sick mistress.
And worse, he had pulled the security detail from our eight-year-old son's school.
He was letting cartel kidnappers take my boy just to force me to sign over my family's billionaire trust fund.
The man I kissed every morning was a monster wearing my husband's skin.
How could he smile at me while planning to murder our children and drain my family's wealth?
The sheer terror and betrayal tore my heart into a thousand jagged pieces.
But I didn't scream or confront him.
Instead, I faked a hysterical breakdown, clutched my baby tight, and quietly contacted my family's private mercenary team.
"File the injunctions. I want him destroyed by morning."
8.5
Kelsi Owens stood in front of the mirror in a six-figure gown, ready to marry into the wealthy Harrington family.
But her fiancé, Jeb, didn't even look at her. He abandoned her right in the middle of the fitting because his widowed sister-in-law, Seraphina, called crying.
That same night, Kelsi collapsed on her apartment floor with a ruptured appendix. Sweating and in blinding agony, she called Jeb for help.
Instead of concern, she heard Seraphina laughing and party music blaring in the background. Jeb just snapped at her.
"Stop being dramatic. Seraphina is the guest of honor tonight. I can't leave."
He hung up, leaving her to call her own ambulance. Kelsi woke up from emergency surgery completely alone, only to receive a cold text from Jeb calling her fragile.
To make matters worse, her toxic adoptive family didn't care that she almost died. They demanded she crawl back and apologize to Jeb just so they could keep leeching off her connections and trust fund.
Lying in that cold hospital bed, the illusion finally shattered. For three years, she had always been the one left waiting. She realized she meant absolutely nothing to the people she loved.
Kelsi didn't cry, and she didn't beg.
She calmly texted Jeb to call off the engagement, blocked his number, and cut ties with her greedy relatives forever.
She was finally walking away. What she didn't know was that the city's most ruthless billionaire had been watching her, and he was already weaving a golden net to claim her for himself.