My Fake Husband Is A Secret Billionaire
Clara supported her boyfriend Leo for four years, paying his rent and buying his headshots while working dead-end extra gigs.
On his twenty-sixth birthday, she caught him in their bed with Veronica, a wealthy producer's daughter who constantly stole Clara's roles.
Leo mocked Clara as a "pathetic, poor stepping stone" who was just there until he got his foot in the door.
Veronica threatened to ruin Clara's career forever.
Clara dumped him, packed her bags, and impulsively entered a contract marriage with a cold stranger she met at City Hall.
But her nightmare wasn't over.
When her mother suddenly needed a $200,000 emergency brain surgery, Clara was forced to take a demeaning extra gig to survive.
There, Veronica and her starlet friend cornered Clara.
They mocked her cheap clothes, ridiculed her new wedding ring as fake glass, and intentionally poured scalding coffee on her feet.
"Well, maid, you better clean that up."
Veronica laughed, forcing Clara to her knees to wipe up the burning liquid while snapping photos.
Clara swallowed her burning humiliation, secretly recording their abuse on her phone.
She endured the pain, desperate for the $300 day rate to save her mother's life, feeling entirely crushed by their overwhelming wealth and power.
What she didn't know was that outside the soundstage, her new contract husband—the man she thought was just a struggling, broke tech worker—was sitting in a sleek black Maybach.
He watched his wife kneeling on the floor, and his dark eyes filled with a lethal, terrifying rage.
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Chapter 4
Clara woke up the next morning on the lumpy motel mattress. Her neck ached. She immediately grabbed her phone and refreshed the gossip blog. Nothing yet. They were probably verifying the footage.
A new text message popped up from her agent, Sarah.
Urgent! Got you a last-minute lunch meeting with an indie director at Westwind Courtyard. 12:30 PM. Don't mess this up, Clara!
Clara threw off the thin blanket. She needed this job. The five thousand dollars in her bank account felt unreal, like dirty money she couldn't touch yet. She needed her own income.
She dug through her duffel bag and pulled out her best professional outfit: a simple, elegant navy blue dress. She ironed it on the motel's broken ironing board, did her makeup carefully to hide the dark circles under her eyes, and tied her hair back.
She left the motel and took an Uber across town to Beverly Hills.
The Westwind Courtyard was intimidating. It was an upscale, exclusive restaurant where Hollywood elites made deals over two-hundred-dollar salads. Clara stepped out of the Uber, marveling at the line of Ferraris and Bentleys parked by the valet stand.
She walked through the grand, sunlit glass doors into the lobby.. She approached the podium, where a snooty hostess in a designer suit looked her up and down.
"Name?" the hostess asked, her tone bored.
"Clara Hayes. I'm here to meet Mr. Davis."
The hostess tapped her tablet. She didn't look up. "Mr. Davis canceled his reservation ten minutes ago. He left a message saying the role has been filled."
Clara sighed, a heavy wave of frustration washing over her. She nodded politely and turned around to leave the lobby.
As she turned, the heavy glass entrance doors swung open.
Leo Foster walked in, holding hands with Veronica Thorne.
Clara froze. Her muscles locked up. She instinctively tried to step behind a large, decorative indoor palm tree to avoid them.
It was too late. Veronica, wearing oversized Prada sunglasses and a tight red dress, spotted Clara's navy outfit immediately. Veronica stopped dead in her tracks.
A malicious, ugly smirk spread across Veronica's face. She pulled a reluctant-looking Leo directly toward Clara.
"Well, well, well," Veronica announced loudly, ensuring the wealthy patrons waiting in the lobby turned to look. "Look what the cat dragged in."
Leo looked uncomfortable, shifting his weight, but he stood tall, trying to assert dominance. He puffed out his chest.
Veronica looked Clara up and down, her lip curling in disgust. "Is that a department store dress? God, Clara, you really don't belong in Westwind. Did you get lost looking for a soup kitchen?"
Clara stood her ground. She forced her posture straight, her nails digging into her palms. "Money cannot buy class, Veronica. You're living proof of that."
Veronica laughed harshly, the sound echoing in the quiet lobby. "Are you stalking us? Is that it? You can't let go of Leo, so you followed us here?"
Leo chimed in, his voice dripping with fake pity. "Clara, please. Have some dignity. Stop following us around the city. It's over."
Clara scoffed, her blood boiling. "I was here for a meeting. I wouldn't waste my time following trash."
Veronica stepped closer, her face flushing with anger. She pointed a manicured finger at Clara's chest. "A meeting? Please. You probably found some cheap, desperate sugar daddy to pay for your Uber here. You're a washed-up extra, Clara."
Outside the glass doors, a sleek, immaculate black Maybach pulled up smoothly to the VIP valet lane.
Caspian Sterling stepped out of the back seat. He wore a perfectly tailored charcoal suit. He adjusted his silver cufflinks, his presence radiating an overwhelming, terrifying power.
Arthur Price, his assistant, stepped out from the passenger side, holding a tablet. Arthur glanced through the glass doors. He spotted the commotion. He leaned in and whispered to Caspian, pointing discreetly at Clara.
Caspian turned his head. His cold, dark eyes locked onto the scene inside the lobby. He recognized his new contract wife being cornered. His jaw ticked.
Inside, Clara glared at Leo. "How does it feel, Leo? To be a kept man living off a producer's daughter? You couldn't even pay your own rent last month."
Veronica's face contorted with pure rage. She spun around and grabbed a tall glass of iced water from a passing waiter's silver tray.
Veronica wound her arm back, her eyes wild, preparing to throw the freezing water directly into Clara's face.
Right at this moment, the heavy glass doors burst open, and Caspian Sterling walked into the hall.
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7.9
Elena Crane wakes up in a hospital bed after barely surviving a resort fire, only to discover the devastating truth. The kidney she donated to her husband Leo three days ago wasn't for him. It was for his mistress, Lydia. Worse, she overhears Leo instructing a doctor to kill her within five days and make it look like surgical complications so he can collect two hundred million dollars in life insurance. Their entire five year marriage was an elaborate scheme to steal her organs and murder her for money.
What Leo and Lydia don't know is that Elena is actually Roberta Alfred, the legendary jewelry designer and billionaire heiress who abandoned her empire for love. After enduring multiple murder attempts, including being locked in a morgue and losing her uterus to forced hysterectomy, Elena escapes. She divorces Leo, claims the insurance money herself, and returns home to reclaim her identity and her family's billion dollar empire.
9.4
As a "wolfless" Omega at the absolute bottom of the pack hierarchy, my only goal was to build a safe, normal life with my fiancé, Dan.
That illusion shattered the day I came home early from work. I found Dan completely naked, tangled in my bedsheets with my cousin, Laura.
The suffocating stench of their betrayal polluted my home. Dan frantically tried to blame Laura, while she shrieked that they had been sleeping together for months. My sanctuary was destroyed. With no family to turn to, I fled into the night. Heartbroken and desperate for oblivion, I ended up in the office of my terrifying boss, Alpha Kane Cain. Fueled by whiskey and grief, I recklessly surrendered to him, signing a note consenting to whatever he wanted just to make the pain stop.
But the next morning, the blinding pleasure was replaced by pure terror. Kane hadn't pulled out. In our brutal world, an unmarked, wolfless Omega carrying an Alpha's child would be cast out and hunted. I panicked, begging him to let me leave, convinced I was just another disposable mistake.
Instead of letting me go, the ruthless Alpha's eyes darkened with a terrifying, primal possessiveness. He pulled out the note I had signed in my drunken haze.
"You gave me this power, little wolf," he growled, ordering his men to move my belongings to his estate. "Don't pretend you can take it back now."
9.7
Eliana Rivera is the firstborn daughter of business tycoon Cassian Rivera. When her father's company falls into debt, he marries her off to the arrogant and ruthless billionaire, Alexander Grayson, as part of a business contract and under the threat of blackmail.
Alexander, the billionaire CEO, never planned to marry, but the pressure of blackmail forces him into a union with a woman he barely knows. Although Eliana doesn't see Alexander as her ideal partner, she agrees to the marriage out of a sense of duty.
Once engaged, however, he barely acknowledges her presence and harbours disdain for her because of her father's actions and their relationship. But as they navigate their newfound relationship, the unexpected desire for each other's touch ignites-a twist neither of them planned, leading them toward an unforeseen love.
8.1
Desperate for a way out of rejection and poverty, Pearl Augustine accepts a nanny job with an outrageous salary-working for billionaire Ace Warren. What she doesn't expect is his daughter.
Mia Warren is spoiled, sharp-tongued, and feared by everyone in the mansion. Behind her cruelty is a lonely child longing for a mother. As Pearl becomes the only one who can reach her, walls begin to fall-especially those around Ace, a grieving man hiding behind wealth and control.
What started as "just a job" quickly turns into something dangerous: attachment.
Sometimes, healing begins where you least expect it.
7.1
For seven years, I hid my identity as a wealthy heiress to be with my boyfriend, Ewing. I followed him across the country and made myself small so he could feel big.
On Thanksgiving, he ditched our celebration for his first love, Bree, who supposedly had a "burst pipe."
Later, she posted an intimate selfie with him, calling him her "hero."
Then she sent me a video of him at a bar, laughing with his friends.
"She's just being dramatic," he slurred, smirking at the camera. "A new necklace and she'll forget all about it. She's easy."
Easy. Seven years of my life, my love, my sacrifice-all reduced to that one word. I realized I was never his partner. I was just a placeholder.
I didn't cry. I packed my bags, booked a one-way flight to New York, and sent him one final text before blocking his number.
"Don't bother coming home. I'm getting married."
7.6
Overnight, Ella lost her family, her home, and her entire life. Discarded by the foster system, she was left shivering in the freezing mud outside her ruined estate.
That was when Javier Shepherd appeared. The terrifyingly cold, powerful billionaire pulled her from the dirt, threw her into a massive glass penthouse, handed her an unlimited black card, and vanished overseas, leaving her in the hands of a cruel caretaker.
The caretaker treated Ella like garbage, feeding her cheap, processed meals while using the black card to buy designer bags. The toxic food triggered a severe allergic reaction. Ella collapsed in the dark hallway, her throat swelling shut, gasping for air while the caretaker locked the door and turned up the TV. She almost died on that cold hardwood floor.
When Javier found out, he ruthlessly destroyed the caretaker and sent her to prison. He guarded Ella's hospital bed with terrifying intensity and even moved into her apartment to stop her panic attacks. Yet, when Ella finally broke down crying over her dead parents, his eyes turned to ice.
"Losing emotional control over a juvenile past is an inefficient waste of energy."
He sneered, treating her grief like a bad financial investment. Ella was completely bewildered. Why did this dangerous man protect her so fiercely, yet hate her past so deeply?
It wasn't until his cousin visited the hospital that the cruel truth was revealed. Javier wasn't saving her out of kindness. He had been obsessed with Ella's mother—his family's adopted daughter who ran away years ago. To him, Ella wasn't a person to be loved. She was just a replacement asset, a ghost of the woman he never got over.