
My Billionaire Fiancé, You Don't Deserve Me
Marrying Theron Draix in a few days was a life long dream come true.
For seventeen years, I'd loved him, revolving my life around him, and in just three days, we should be married.
"Let's break up. I won't be attending the wedding," he said.
My life shattered in that instant.
Finding out he was in love with my adopted sister was worse. They had played me and controlled my emotions.
At the end, Mireya had killed me.
If I was given a second chance, I would never love Theron and never trust Mireya.
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Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
AURELIA
He must be kidding me.
I threw my shoes at the edge of the door as I flopped on the bed, blinking rapidly. My chest hurt, like it had been pulled out recklessly from the cords holding it. Like I had just been pulled away from my life support. He had been, just a few hours ago, when I'd delicately pulled out a yellow dress and black Mary Jane shoes just to impress him. I'd spent hours trying to pin my hair in different styles before I got into the car and drove out, but still, he hadn't even noticed any of that. Instead, he had just-
The ringing of my phone cut me off. I stared at the single love emoji before picking it, and suddenly, I had the urge to cry.
"Aurelia, are you okay?" Her voice came cheerfully from the other line. Maybe this was why everyone loved her, including me. Even in crazy situations, Mireya remained just like Theron; she wouldn't budge. Neither would she break down.
"Mireya," my voice shook as I turned my head into my pillow, "Theron is breaking off the marriage." The words came out muffled and inaudible.
"Huh, I didn't get that," Mireya said.
I raised my head from the bed. "Theron is breaking up with me, and he wants me to say I did it, so he can get the sympathy of everyone and keep his image clean before them. He doesn't even care about the fact that I'm still trying to get on the good side of mom and dad. If I said I wanted the breakup, wouldn't my life be even more ruined? He doesn't love me a single bit!" I poured the words out in a single breath, and by the time I was done talking, tears had already started running out of my eyes.
"Aurelia, are you crying?" Mireya asked, chuckling slightly.
"No, I'm not." I wiped my snort with the back of my hand. "And this is not funny."
"Who knows? Maybe Theron is just having cold feet. It's finally happening after dating for five years; he's probably scared."
I'd never seen Theron scared of anything, except for spiders. He had a phobia of them, but I didn't even know why. So why exactly would he get scared of walking down the aisle when he commanded board members?
"I know you, Aure. You have been in love with Theron since you were eight. Seventeen years down the line, and that hasn't changed. Are you seriously just going to let him go like that? You have been pursuing him all your life; what's one more race three days to your wedding, hmm?"
She was right. For seventeen years, I'd been consistent with loving Theron. I'd been shamelessly obsessed and chased after him. I knew he ate his steak medium-rare, no sauce, and salted only after cooking. He drank his coffee hot without sugar, ever. And that wasn't because he loved them. Grilled steak is fast and efficient for Theron, and coffee keeps him awake.
I flattened my lips. I didn't want to look like a chaser who had no limits, but Mireya was right. She was always right. A day of Theron's foolishness wouldn't destroy what I had for him for seventeen years.
"Mireya, I'll call you back."
"Don't tell me you are going there right away."
"I am."
I ended the call, wearing my flip-flop as I rushed down the stairs.
"Miss." The attendant lady, Madam Camila, called behind me, making me halt in my tracks.
"The new batch of cakes has been brought in for tasting."
I grabbed the cake from her hands, rushing out the front door. Theron's house was just right across mine, separated only by the tarred road of the estate. When we moved places years ago, Mom and Dad had thought it was a good thing we lived right next to Theron. It was a kind of connection that not anyone would get to live right next to one of the most powerful families in Los Angeles, and we had gotten it by luck.
My fingers paused on the doorbell for a second before I pressed it. A beautiful woman pulled the door open, her smile wide and elegant, Theron's mother.
"Mi querida," she called in Spanish, pulling me into a tight hug, "Come in."
"Mother," I stretched the hand holding the packet of cakes I'd just gotten from Madam Camila towards her, "Here, cakes."
"You are the only one who thinks fondly of me in this place. Theron and his father are the same, always busy with work. I can't wait for you both to get married." She said, pulling me to sit.
I smiled lightly, tilting my head towards the stairs. "Is Theron home yet?"
"Not yet, mi querida. But soon. I think in an hour. Why don't you talk with me as I make some pancakes?"
During the next hour, Mrs Draix and I made pancakes, which I made a mess of. Either the batter was too watery or I'd sprinkled too much salt. I couldn't simply concentrate, not until the front door opened. I rushed out of the kitchen, the rich sound of Mrs Draix's laughter accompanying me out.
Theron stood at the door, staring at me as if he had just seen a ghost. Shocking, right? It was, but I wouldn't believe a word of what he said about the breakup until he repeated it loud and clear.
"What are you doing here?" he raised his brows.
"Aurelia brought us some cakes," Mrs Draix's reply flowed out of the kitchen. Only if she knew it wasn't just about pancakes.
"Do you want to talk here," I summoned courage, "or in your room?"
Theron's eyes shifted towards the kitchen and back at me, "Follow me."
"You both should do nothing until your wedding night. It's just a few days away!"
Neither of us responded, and Theron didn't say a word even as he shut the door behind me. His room was a rich layer of navy blue and black with simple things in it: a wardrobe, a desk with lots of drawers, and a chair. He didn't stay home much, but he always made sure to be available every Friday to Saturday morning. Just like today.
"Are you better now?"
"When have I not been better?" His face creased handsomely as his brows furrowed against each other, filled with quiet discomfort. "Why exactly are you at my house?"
"I wanted to see you. To talk. I didn't think you meant what you said at the-"
His phone rang, interrupting us. Theron pulled it out from his pocket, stared at it, and turned it face down on the desk. And that was when I saw it, the ticket slated for his journey. Toronto, Canada.
"You are really going on a vacation?" I gulped, my eyes moving back to his face. "It wasn't cold feet?"
"Cold feet?" he raised his brows. "Aurelia, don't get me mad. I already informed you of my decision to cancel the wedding, and yet, you had the effrontery to show up here?"
"I just wanted to confirm-"
"There's nothing to confirm," his phone rang again, but he ignored it. "I'm informing my parents tonight, so inform yours too," he said flatly.
"What are you informing me?" The door pulled open as his mother stared between the two of us. "Aurelia, what's going on?"
Tears bit the back of my eyes. I opened my mouth to speak, but a sob threatened to escape instead, so I shut it close. I should never have come here.
Theron's eyes locked with mine. "Aurelia wants a breakup," he announced.
Just like that, the love I had for seventeen years of my life was shattered.
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7.1
I waited a year for my mate, Alpha Justin, to return from the border war. While he was gone, I used my ten-million-dollar dowry to keep his crumbling pack afloat and buy life-saving elixirs for his mother.
But when he finally walked through the door, he reeked of another female's scent.
He brought back Gamma Brenna and a Royal Decree, coldly announcing she would be his "Co-Luna."
His family, who survived entirely on my wealth, immediately turned on me. They mocked me for being a wolfless orphan since my father and brothers were slaughtered defending the kingdom.
"You're just a fragile woman who belongs hidden away," Justin told me.
They demanded I accept this humiliation, step aside for his new warrior mate, and continue funding their luxurious lifestyle. Justin even arrogantly offered to sleep with me just once to give me a pup as a "consolation prize," declaring his heart and body belonged entirely to Brenna.
They thought my ruined pack meant I had no backing. They thought I was a pathetic victim who would cling to their scraps and accept a polluted mate-bond just to avoid being cast out into the woods as a Rogue.
They had no idea I had already visited the Alpha King.
I wasn't going to cry, and I certainly wasn't going to share my mate. I packed up every last cent of my ten million dollars, secured a Royal Severance Decree, and prepared to watch their arrogant pack starve to death.

9.0
Once a pampered princess, Alaina now clutched a deactivated American Express card, staring out at Central Park. Her family’s fortune was gone, her life, over.
Her family's Hamptons estate, a four-generation legacy, was seized by Dyer Capital. The name hit her: Hardin Dyer, the poor boy she’d once scorned, had returned.
Hardin marched in, serving a divorce agreement. He'd orchestrated her family's downfall for revenge, giving her 24 hours to vacate his property. Penniless, her father faced prison, needing $50 million. Her mother forced her to beg Hardin, who sneered, offering the money for her body. Alaina ripped up the contract.
Hours later, her father had a heart attack. Desperate, she became "Lexi," a club girl enduring humiliation. In the Viper Room, Hardin's lackeys demanded she lick whiskey off his shoe for $10,000. Hardin watched. Outside, her brother Ashton's hand was threatened for a $3 million debt. Spirit shattered, Alaina returned, knelt on broken glass, offering to sign. But Hardin declared her family "dead," offering $10 million for her body, commanding her to use her mouth.
In a furious act of defiance, Alaina threw whiskey in his face, snatched the check, and fled. Yet, when he finally took her, a searing, foreign pain and blood on the sheets revealed a shocking truth: he had never touched her three years ago. Why had he let her believe such a monstrous lie?

8.7
"You're leaving," Lorenzo said softly.
Ivy straightened her spine and raised her chin. "I am. I'm getting out of this place even if it means climbing over the front gates. I can't stay here anymore. I'm leaving!"
"You can't," Lorenzo said flatly. "Not now."
"Watch me," Ivy hissed, brushing past him.
Lorenzo stepped in her way and grabbed her by the arms-not roughly, but firmly.
"I mean it, Ivy. You can't leave," he said tightly.
She struggled against his grip, her bag falling to the floor with a thud.
"Let me go, Lorenzo! I don't belong here. This place is insane. Your family is insane!"
"You belong to me," he said sharply, eyes burning into hers. "And it's my job to protect what's mine."
"I don't want to be yours," Ivy cried. "I want to be free! I want to live!"
Something shifted in Lorenzo's face. He looked at her then, not as an obligation, not as a pawn, but as a person. A frightened, strong, beautiful woman who had been caught in a storm she never asked for. And something in him cracked.
Lorenzo reached down and cupped her face with both hands. Ivy flinched at first but didn't pull away. His thumbs wiped away the tears rolling down her cheeks.
"I never wanted to hurt you," he said quietly.
Her lower lip trembled. "Then let me go..."
"I can't," he whispered.
And then, without thinking, he leaned in and kissed her.
***************
Ivy Wesley believed that marrying a wealthy stranger would be her golden escape from a life of struggle. Lorenzo Martinelli was supposed to be her way out: her fresh start, her answer to every prayer whispered in the dark.
But the moment the mansion doors shut behind her, Ivy understood the truth. She hadn't stepped into a fairy tale. She had walked straight into the lion's den.
The whispers about the Martinelli family's ties to the Mafia aren't just rumors; they're real, and now Ivy is bound to them by a ring on her finger and secrets she can never unlearn. There is no undoing this choice. No clean exit. Not after what she's seen. Not after what she knows.
Surrounded by dangerous alliances, ruthless power plays, and truths sharp enough to draw blood, Ivy finds herself caught in a world where trust is a luxury and loyalty can be lethal. Yet in the middle of the chaos, something even more unexpected takes root: a love she never planned for, never prepared for, and may not survive.
Now Ivy faces an impossible choice: run while she still can, or stand her ground beside the man who could destroy her as easily as he protects her. In a world where betrayal lurks behind every polished smile and devotion can cost a life, can their love endure... or will it be the very thing that brings everything crashing down?

9.2
Celestia woke up heavily sedated, her wrists bound tightly to the legs of a grand piano in a cold, opulent room.
Before she could even process the panic, a towering billionaire named Sterling Sinclair IV stepped in, looking at her like a possessed piece of art.
The head maid then handed Celestia a thick surrogacy contract with her perfectly forged signature.
"You are here to bear an heir for Mr. Sinclair," the maid stated flatly.
Celestia screamed that they had the wrong person, but her desperate cries bounced uselessly off the soundproof walls.
Stripped of her clothes, phone, and identity, she was trapped on an isolated island surrounded by high-voltage electric fences and armed guards.
When she furiously fought back, Sterling physically overpowered her, punishing her resistance with brutal, terrifying dominance until she lost consciousness on the marble floor.
She didn't understand who had kidnapped her from her normal life.
Why was her biometric data perfectly faked in a classified dossier?
Who had framed her as a willing, ten-million-dollar premium product for a ruthless billionaire?
Driven by pure survival, Celestia began aggressively consuming raw garlic and bathing in harsh white vinegar to destroy her fertility and repel his touch.
And when Sterling finally reviewed her bizarre, self-sabotaging dietary logs, the terrifying truth hit his calculating mind like a physical blow.
The broken, innocent woman he had been brutally tormenting all week was never his hired surrogate.

8.9
Ava ran away from her home and she mistook Ethan as Nathan , a powerful billionaire, as the spy her father sent to capture her. Determined to uncover the truth, she sets out to seduce him and extract the information she needs. But as time goes Ava finds herself torn between her mission and her growing attraction to the powerful billionaire. Will she succeed in her plan or not? Read to find out!!

9.5
My husband Hubert threw a stack of faked, compromising photos at my bleeding face.
He crushed my hand under his leather shoe and threatened our five-year-old son's life, forcing me to sign away my company shares and full custody.
Then, my younger sister Ara walked into the room, stepping carefully to avoid my blood, and kissed my husband deeply.
"You really are a stupid stepping stone, Amelie. I paid a lot of money to have those photos photoshopped."
She sneered at me, admitting she had orchestrated everything just to steal my fashion brand and my life.
Before I could fight back, Ara injected a paralytic directly into my neck.
They stuffed me into a duffel bag and dumped me in the freezing mud of a secluded hunting estate.
Ara waved a forged suicide note in my face, claiming I had drowned myself out of shame, before giving her bodyguard a sharp nod.
Three massive, starving mastiffs were released from their cages.
As the dogs tore through my flesh and crushed my bones, Hubert watched my bloody massacre live on a video call.
In my final seconds of agonizing pain, a blinding hatred locked into my dying brain.
I didn't understand why the two people I loved most would torture me so ruthlessly, but I made a venomous vow.
If I ever come back, I will make you both drown in your own blood.
Opening my eyes again, I wasn't dead in the mud.
I had awakened in the young body of a girl named Gena, and fate had just dropped the perfect weapon for my revenge right into my lap: Hubert's ruthless billionaire uncle.