Pregnant And Fleeing The Ruthless Billionaire

For five years, I was locked away in the freezing royal dungeon, starved and used as a bloody plaything by the kingdom's sadistic Cabinet Minister, Brandt Fischer. He tortured me daily for one twisted reason: I simply looked like someone else. When he visited my cell to casually announce my father's execution and drag a silver dagger across my neck, he expected me to beg. Instead, I laughed, sank my teeth directly into his carotid artery, and was violently thrown against a jagged stone wall to my death. As my skull cracked and my blood stained the moss, I thought about my so-called family. The moment Brandt had demanded me, my father, the Duke, handed me over without a single hesitation to save his own political career. I was nothing but a disposable pawn, left to rot in the dark while the monsters who ruined my life thrived. I died suffocating on my own blood and absolute, destructive vengeance. Then, I opened my eyes. I was lying in my silk-sheeted bed, reborn as my fifteen-year-old self. Today was the exact day Lord Daryl Langley, the God of War, would be ambushed and crippled—the event that allowed Brandt to seize ultimate power. I immediately stole a horse, rode to the palace gates, and threw myself directly in front of Daryl's moving carriage. "I just didn't want to see a hero die like a slaughtered pig." I didn't care if I had to shatter my own ankle to hijack his convoy. This time, I was going to save the general, and he would become the blade I use to slaughter them all.

"You can't escape me, Aurora. You are mine!" The Alpha King's roar echoed through the palace walls. But Aurora just tightened her grip on the blade hidden beneath her cloak. She would never-never-give herself to the monster who murdered her father. Even if the Moon Goddess cursed her to be his mate. *** Aurora Regalia once had everything-a loving father, a prosperous pack, and a future that glittered with promise. Her father, the king, even chose her a mate: Logan Charming. Powerful. Charismatic. Cursed. She thought he was her destiny. Then she watched him tear her father's head from his shoulders. One night. One betrayal. Her entire family, slaughtered. Her pack, reduced to ashes. Aurora jumped off a cliff that night-not to die, but to survive. To become something her enemies would never see coming. An assassin. A ghost. A blade wrapped in silk. For years, she trained in the shadows, fueled by one single purpose: revenge. Blood for blood. She would make Logan Charming suffer the way she had suffered. She would carve his heart out and feel nothing. But fate had a cruel sense of humor. The Moon Goddess looked down at her shattered daughter and laughed. Because the man who destroyed her life? The monster who wore her father's blood on his hands? He was her fated mate. Now Aurora stands at a crossroads she never asked for. Every instinct screams for vengeance. Every fiber of her being recoils at the bond pulling her toward him. But Logan? He doesn't care about her hatred. He doesn't care about her blade. "You can run, little mate," he whispers, crimson eyes gleaming in the dark. "But I will always find you." And when he does? He won't just cage her body. He'll claim her soul.

For three years, I played the perfect, submissive housewife to billionaire Julian Harrison. But right after an intimate night together, he coldly threw a divorce agreement onto the bed. "Scarlett landed an hour ago. I need my single status restored to welcome her back." That same night, I ended up in the emergency room and discovered I was pregnant with twins. When Julian found out, he didn't show a shred of joy. Instead, he stormed into my hospital room, threw a blank check directly at my face, and ordered me to get rid of them. He accused me of using the babies as a sick game to trap his assets. Then, his ruthless lawyer kicked me out of our penthouse, confiscating the jewelry he gifted me and tossing my worn-out notebook onto the floor like garbage. Standing in the freezing rain, my heart completely died. I had swallowed my pride, managed his life, and cooked his meals to his exact standards for three years, only to be thrown away the second his first love returned. But he didn't know that the notebook his lawyer discarded contained the secret formulas of Aura Beauty, a billion-dollar empire I built in the shadows. I tore his check into pieces, blocked his number, and left in a Maybach sent by my associate. Logging into my global CEO database, I looked at his company's fragile stock chart with a predatory smile. The docile Mrs. Harrison died in the rain. It was time to crush his empire.

I was the top commander of a black-ops military program. After slaughtering my way through a hellish mission, I reached the extraction helicopter, trusting my second-in-command to watch my back. But the moment our hands locked, he didn't pull me up. Instead, he plunged a syringe of lethal neurotoxin directly into my neck. He aimed his gun at my chest, coldly stating that I was too dangerous to live. My lungs stopped, and I died in a pool of my own blood. But the endless blackness suddenly shattered. My consciousness violently forced its way into a new, broken shell. I woke up in a freezing alley, soaked in muddy rain. This body belonged to seventeen-year-old Eliza Wyatt. A massive wave of foreign memories crashed into my brain. Her own younger sister had just stood at the top of the stairs with a mocking smile, watching street thugs beat Eliza to death. "Take good care of the Wyatt family's eldest daughter. Tonight is the night she finally disappears." The endless humiliation, the cold stares of her family, and the brutal betrayal by her own blood flashed before my eyes. Why was this fragile girl treated like garbage and pushed to her death by the very people who should have protected her? I looked down at my pale, trembling hands. The top commander was dead, but in this bleeding shell, Eliza Wyatt was very much alive. I picked up a switchblade from the bloody puddle and stood up in the storm. It was time to hunt.

On the eve of my glamorous Waldorf Astoria wedding, I went to the penthouse to surprise my fiancé, Hugh, wearing my late mother's heirloom pearls. Instead, I heard my stepsister's familiar laugh and caught them tangled together on the sofa. Through the cracked door, I heard Hugh slur that he was only marrying me for my family's financial backing. "As soon as I secure my inheritance, she's the first thing I'm getting rid of," he promised her. Floy giggled and asked for my mother's pearl necklace, my only legacy. Hugh agreed without hesitation, mocking my dead mother's naivety and my desperate dreams of building a family. Every sweet word he had ever said was a lie, a knife he had been patiently sliding between my ribs for years. They planned to strip me of everything the moment I signed the prenup. I didn't cry or scream. The crushing weight of their betrayal hollowed me out, leaving behind a terrifying, absolute calm. Why should I be the one to lose everything while they stole my future and insulted my mother's memory? I calmly walked down the hall, set the prenuptial agreement on fire, and vanished into the rainy night. If Hugh wanted to play dirty for the Maxwell empire, I would play for keeps. Using a forgotten, century-old family covenant, I was going to marry Hugh's uncle-the comatose, paralyzed war hero, Fleet Maxwell. I would return not as a naive bride, but as their worst nightmare: his aunt, and the new lady of the house.

Emerson worked grueling twelve-hour shifts just to keep her five-year-old son, Leo, alive. Her only lifeline was her partner Alden, who was willing to give up his wealthy family to protect them. But when Leo's bone marrow completely failed, the doctor delivered a death sentence. The only way to save him was a two-million-dollar treatment, or having another child with his biological father. That father was Finnegan Mcconnell, the ruthless billionaire who had accused Emerson of faking her pregnancy and abandoned her five years ago. Desperate for the medical fees, Emerson submitted her designs to Finnegan's company. Instead of advancing the money, Finnegan tore her portfolio to shreds and trapped her as a prisoner in his estate. To force her complete submission, he systematically destroyed her reality. He framed Alden with federal charges, leaving him facing twenty years in prison. Alden's mother stormed into the pediatric ICU, violently strangling Emerson against the wall. "Beg Finnegan to let my son go! You are a curse!" Even Emerson's own adoptive mother showed up at the hospital, just to publicly mock her dying child. Emerson was suffocating in despair. Finnegan already had a beautiful new wife and a five-year-old daughter—absolute proof he had been cheating while she was pregnant and alone. He had his perfect family. Why did he have to hunt her down and sever every lifeline she had left, just to watch her drown? With her son's heart monitor fading and Alden locked in a cell, her pride finally shattered. Emerson walked into the top-floor executive office and dropped to her knees at the devil's feet, but the desperate mother looking up at him was preparing for a devastating revenge.