Rejecting My Ruthless Billionaire Fiancé
For ten years, Aurora was abandoned by her wealthy family to rot in the countryside.
When she finally returned, there was no warm welcome. The Lott family only brought her back to replace her adopted sister in an arranged marriage with Damian Yates, a notoriously violent, crippled billionaire, just to save their bankrupt company.
Her grandmother mocked her as uneducated trash. Her fake sister feigned disgust at her very presence.
When her biological father desperately tried to stop them from sending his daughter to her death, the family turned on him.
Her grandmother struck her father across the face, kicked the three of them out of the manor into the freezing rain, and arrogantly declared they would starve on the streets by nightfall.
They thought Aurora was just a helpless, pathetic hillbilly who would quietly accept being sold as livestock.
They had no idea that over the past decade, she had survived the darkest corners of the world, becoming a lethal operative with unimaginable power.
Standing in the cold rain, Aurora didn't shed a single tear.
She calmly pulled out her encrypted phone, personally canceled the billionaire's marriage contract, and ordered her hacker to completely freeze the Lott family's accounts.
"Total financial annihilation. Burn them to the ground."
But as she watched her abusers' legacy crumble, a classified file arrived on her phone, revealing that the very billionaire she just rejected was tied to her mother's unsolved murder.
The real hunt was just beginning.
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Chapter 7
The door to Damian's VIP suite slammed open.
A young man wearing a loud floral silk shirt strolled into the room, tossing a micro-USB drive in the air and catching it. This was Kai Xiao, Damian's best friend and the top cybersecurity expert on the West Coast.
Kai looked at Damian, who was standing perfectly upright, adjusting his cuffs. He let out a low whistle. "Looks like your mysterious fairy godmother didn't just save your life, she cured your 'paralysis' too."
Damian shot him a lethal glare and held out his hand. "Did you trace it?"
Kai dropped the smirk and handed over the drive. "The call bounced through at least seven proxy servers before disappearing into the deepest trenches of the dark web."
Damian's eyes narrowed. A girl fresh out of a trailer park possessing that level of counter-surveillance tech? It was impossible. Someone else was pulling the strings.
"But," Kai added, tapping his temple, "I intercepted the audio packet. She was using a voice modulator. I stripped the filter."
Damian walked over to his laptop, shoved the drive into the port, and clicked the decrypted audio file.
The room filled with Aurora's true voice. It was cold, clear, and slightly lazy. "Our engagement is over..."
Damian's chest tightened. A deep, inexplicable irritation flared up in his gut. The coldness and detachment in her tone grated against his nerves. He aggressively closed the media player, refusing to listen to another second of that arrogant, lazy drawl. This girl was nothing but a manipulative parasite.
He extracted the audio file and forwarded it directly to the Yates family elders. It was undeniable proof that the Lott family broke the pact first.
Kai watched him. "Ruthless. You just nuked the Lott family's only lifeline and blamed them for it."
Damian slammed the laptop shut. "They tried to play me. Now, put every single asset we have into finding the woman from the mountain."
Miles away, on the balcony of the guest house, Aurora's encrypted phone vibrated against her thigh.
She pulled it out. K. Stone had sent a highly classified intel dossier. The subject line read: Vera Mercer - Fatality Investigation Update.
The relaxed posture Aurora held instantly vanished. Her muscles coiled tight. A terrifying, murderous aura radiated from her body.
She opened the file. It was a grainy, restored traffic camera photo from ten years ago. The exact cliffside highway where her mother's car had been run off the road.
K. Stone's encrypted voice memo played in her earpiece. "Boss, we recovered the deleted footage. Ten minutes before your mother's crash, three black SUVs passed through that exact sector."
Aurora zoomed in on the image. Her eyes locked onto the license plate of the lead vehicle.
"Those vehicles," K. Stone's voice dropped, "were registered to a private security firm owned entirely by the Yates family."
Aurora's heart stopped. It felt like a physical hand had reached into her chest and crushed her lungs.
The Yates family. Damian Yates.
Her brain fired at lightspeed, connecting the dots. Her mother's bizarre death. The Lott family's refusal to investigate. The sudden, forced marriage to the Yates heir.
Aurora took a sharp breath, forcing the violent rage down into her stomach. "Keep digging," she ordered K. Stone, her voice vibrating with suppressed violence. "I want the names of the men in those cars."
She ended the call. She stared at the grey sky, a cruel, bloody smile forming on her lips. If the Yates family murdered her mother, breaking an engagement wasn't going to be enough. She was going to burn their entire empire to the ground.
BANG.
The heavy wooden door of the guest house was violently kicked open, the frame splintering.
Aurora shoved the phone into her pocket and spun around, her eyes still blazing with killing intent.
Eleanor Lott stood in the doorway, leaning heavily on her ruby-encrusted cane, her chest heaving with absolute fury. Behind her stood Aurora's uncles, Roger and Howard, flanked by a dozen massive estate bodyguards.
Eleanor raised her shaking hand. She was clutching the crumpled cancellation fax.
"You miserable bitch!" Eleanor shrieked, her voice cracking with hysteria. "What the hell did you do?!"
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9.3
They say you can't have it all. I'm about to prove them wrong-or destroy myself trying.
When my struggling mother married billionaire Richard Stone, I thought I was gaining a family. Instead, I found three stepbrothers who became my obsession, my downfall, and my salvation.
Dominic, the eldest, cold and commanding, who kisses me like he's claiming his kingdom and looks at me like I'm the only thing he can't control.
Julian, the charming playboy who hides a vulnerable soul beneath his perfect smile, making me feel like I'm the only woman he's ever truly seen.
Asher, the brooding artist who paints me like I'm his muse and touches me like I'm his masterpiece, seeing parts of my soul I didn't know existed.
They're forbidden. They're dangerous. They're everything I shouldn't want.
But when I discover my father didn't die by suicide that he was murdered by the very man who now calls himself my stepfather, these three powerful men becomes my unlikely allies.
First it was a forbidden attraction, now it's an arrangement that defies every rule.
The rules are simple:
I'll give each of them a chance.
I'll take everything they offer.
And in the end, I'll have to make the hardest decision of my life:
Choose one of them. Choose all of them. Or choose myself.
8.3
He laid me on the sheets, climbed over me, caged me with his arms. "Last chance to run," he said, voice low."I need the money," I whispered, feeling so tiny in his arms."You're soaking," he muttered. "Virgin or not, your pussy wants this."I moaned, looking away, couldn't help it,"Eyes on me, sweetheart," he pushed his tip in slowly."Fuck," he groaned. "So tight."He fucked me like he was claiming something. "Come for me," he whispered in my ears, moving faster."Damien," I cried out his name as I came."That's it," he growled. After a long minute he pulled out slowly. "One night," he said again, almost like a reminder....weeks later, I walked through the quiet hall of my school. A massive portrait stared back at me.Damien BlackwoodPrincipal Benefactor and OwnerColumbia University.Same man who'd just taken my virginity for money. My stomach dropped. "Oh fuck... what have I done?"
9.0
To save her dying mother, Adaline walked into the Waldorf Astoria to deliver a shirt to her fiancé.
She didn't know her stepsister, June, had swapped her keycard. Adaline stumbled into a pitch-black suite and was brutally assaulted by a stranger in the dark.
The nightmare didn't end there. June paid off the only bone marrow donor for Adaline's mother to flee the city, and stole Adaline's fiancé. Bankrupt and desperate, Adaline was forced to sell herself into a loveless marriage with the ruthless billionaire Ferris Finch just to secure a medical team.
But when Ferris saw the dark, violent bruises covering her body, his eyes filled with absolute disgust.
"You make me sick. Pack up your cheap tricks."
He mocked her, calling her a filthy woman who couldn't even wash her lover's marks off before crawling into his house.
Adaline swallowed her pride and endured his cruel humiliation. When June publicly taunted her about the hotel assault, Adaline finally snapped, ending up handcuffed in a freezing police cell.
She thought she was completely out of moves, waiting to rot in prison while her new husband despised her.
But back at the estate, Ferris had just pulled the hotel's security footage.
Staring at the screen, the arrogant billionaire's face turned completely ashen.
He finally realized that the innocent woman he had destroyed in the dark that night, and the wife he was currently torturing, were the exact same person.
9.1
I was supposed to be celebrating my twenty-first birthday and my engagement to the man I loved.
Instead, I was bleeding out in a crushed car, listening to my fiancé Greggory and my stepsister Alta laughing over the car's Bluetooth.
They had cut my brakes.
As the steering wheel crushed my shattered ribs, they cheerfully clinked their champagne glasses, celebrating their hostile takeover of my family's media empire.
I tried to scream for help, but my lungs wouldn't work.
Then, Alta's sweet voice delivered the final, fatal blow over the speaker.
"Your mother? I took care of her too."
I died in the freezing rain, my heart frozen with absolute hatred as I realized every touch and whispered promise was just a calculated step toward my murder.
I gave them everything, treating them like my closest family.
Why did they have to kill my innocent mother? Why did I blindly trust two vipers who only wanted to drain my blood?
Opening my eyes again, the smell of gasoline was gone.
I was back in my bedroom, safe and unharmed, on the exact day of my twenty-first birthday party.
The day the tragedy began.
Downstairs, my murderers were waiting to spring their trap, expecting me to blindly accept Greggory's proposal.
But this time, I put on a blood-red dress, grabbed the photo of their secret affair, and walked down the stairs to choose a new fiancé—the most ruthless billionaire in the room.
8.6
Genevieve was heavily pregnant, holding the legal papers that would transfer her massive family trust fund to her loving husband, Clinton.
But as she approached his study, she heard a familiar giggle. Through the cracked door, she saw her cousin Carolynn sitting on his desk, her skirt hiked up, while Clinton smirked and poured bourbon.
"Once she signs those papers, we don't need her anymore," Clinton laughed coldly. "The kidnapping is staged for tomorrow. She and the brat disappear permanently."
Genevieve gasped, and he spotted her. When she frantically tried to run, her trusted housekeeper blocked the stairs. Clinton dragged her back, beat her mercilessly, and locked her in a freezing, underground cellar.
Denied any medical help, she endured agonizing hours of labor alone in the dark, only to deliver a stillborn child. Clinton then walked in, ruthlessly tossed her dead baby's tiny body into a pile of dirty rags, and brutally strangled her.
As her lungs burned and the world faded to black, her heart shattered into a million jagged pieces. She had given him everything. How could they be so monstrous as to murder her and her innocent child just for money?
Opening her eyes again, the freezing cellar was gone.
She was standing in an emerald silk gown at an elite charity gala—the exact night their original kidnapping plot began, a month before she even announced her pregnancy.
This time, the naive socialite was dead, and she was going to make them pay in blood.
7.9
For five years, I was the invisible force behind my charismatic architect boyfriend's empire, painstakingly designing the dream home we built together.
But for the eighteenth time, Jayson canceled adding my name to the deed, rushing out on our candlelit dinner for yet another "critical emergency" with his young, attractive mentee, Ciera.
He left me alone at our custom dining table, blindly prioritizing her manufactured crises over our future. Hours later, Ciera posted a photo on Instagram. She was sitting in his executive chair, wearing his unbuttoned dress shirt, with two empty wine glasses on the desk. When I finally confronted him the next morning, he didn't apologize. Instead, he looked at me with arrogant amusement.
"Where are you going to go, Allison? Without me? Without this firm? Don't forget, I made you!"
My love didn't die in a sudden explosion; it bled out drop by drop over eighteen broken promises. I had poured my soul into his success, only to be treated like a disposable asset in my own home. To make the irony even more suffocating, a plastic stick in my bathroom soon revealed two stark red lines. I was pregnant with his child.
I didn't cry, and I certainly didn't use the baby to beg for his love. Instead, I packed a single suitcase, accepted a senior role at his biggest rival firm in London, and left a resignation letter on his desk. This time, I am building an empire of my own.