
The Billionaire Hunting His Ghost Wife
For three years, I was trapped in a paper marriage to a billionaire I had never met, until my father forced me to finally visit his hotel suite.
But when I walked in, I found my husband, Bryton Lott, heavily drugged by my own father. Stripped of all reason, Bryton violently pinned me down and took my innocence, making me a pawn in my father's sick scheme to force a pregnancy and save his bankrupt company.
After escaping his feral grip, I overheard Bryton call my father. He called me a useless, invisible wife, vowing to hand me divorce papers the second he saw my face. The nightmare didn't end there. When I brought a priceless antique jade bracelet to my mother's birthday, she slapped me across the face in front of the entire elite crowd. My stepsister publicly accused me of selling my body. Hiding in the shadows, I even heard my mother admit she wished I was dead, only keeping me around to exploit my marriage.
I had played the obedient, impoverished daughter for years, enduring their endless abuse just to protect my grandmother's legacy. Why did my own flesh and blood treat me like a sacrificial lamb to be sold and destroyed?
The last thread holding my heart together completely snapped. I left the multi-million dollar bracelet on the cold stone sill and walked out into the freezing night. Snapping my everyday SIM card in half, I pulled out an encrypted satellite phone and activated my true identity as the underground world's top operative, "King."
"Run a full hostile intelligence sweep on Apocalypse Corp."
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Chapter 1
"You will go to that suite, Kaliyah, or you can kiss your grandmother's trust fund goodbye."
The memory of Preston's voice played on a loop in her head. Kaliyah Acevedo stepped out of the elevator. The thick carpet of the Elysium Hotel's top floor absorbed the sound of her footsteps. She took a deep breath. The air in her lungs felt like crushed glass. Her fingers gripped the cheap leather of her clutch so hard her knuckles turned a stark, bone white.
She walked down the long, silent corridor. Her heart slammed against her ribs. Three years of a paper marriage to a man she had never met. Now, her father was forcing this meeting. She stopped in front of the presidential suite. She raised her fist to knock.
The heavy carved wooden door was already cracked open.
Kaliyah pushed it. The hinges made no sound. The entryway was dark. The only light came from the dim sconces on the walls. The air inside hit her face. It was unnaturally hot. A thick, suffocating heat that made the fine hairs on her arms stand up.
"Bryton?" she called out. Her voice was barely a whisper.
The only answer was a heavy, ragged breath from the shadows.
She stepped carefully past the foyer. She walked around a large decorative screen. A man's suit jacket lay crumpled on the floor. A silk tie was discarded a few feet away.
A large, burning hot hand shot out from the darkness.
Long fingers wrapped around her wrist like an iron vice. The heat of his skin seared through her thin blouse. Before she could even gasp, a brutal force yanked her forward. She crashed into a wall of solid muscle.
The heavy scent of aged whiskey and raw male sweat flooded her senses. It choked the air out of her lungs.
She pushed her hands against his chest. His muscles were rigid and slick with sweat. He was a furnace.
Bryton Lott slammed her back against the cold wall. The impact knocked the breath out of her. His eyes were bloodshot. The pupils were blown wide, swallowing the iris. He could not focus on her face. He just stared blindly at her silhouette.
He let out a low, guttural curse. The sound was thick with absolute agony and blind hunger.
"I am your..." Kaliyah opened her mouth to speak.
His large hand snapped up. His fingers clamped around her jaw, forcing her mouth shut. The grip was punishing.
His mouth crashed down on hers. It was not a kiss. It was a violent collision. His teeth scraped against her bottom lip. The taste of copper bloomed in her mouth. She hit his shoulders with her free hand. She punched the hard muscle of his back.
He did not even flinch. He grabbed both of her wrists in one massive hand and pinned them above her head against the wallpaper.
His free hand grabbed the collar of her silk blouse. He pulled. The fabric tore. Buttons popped off and hit the hardwood floor like tiny bullets.
The cold air of the room hit her bare skin. Kaliyah shivered violently. The involuntary movement only made the man more feral.
His breathing was entirely out of control. His skin was burning up. Kaliyah realized it instantly. He was heavily drugged.
She twisted her hips. She dropped her weight, trying to use a close-quarters combat sweep to take his legs out. It was a move that had dropped men twice her size during her operative training.
Bryton simply shifted his massive frame. He pinned her legs with his knee. The drug pumping through his veins gave him terrifying strength. Her violent thrashing seemed only to stoke the chemical fire in his blood, making his movements more powerful and entirely uncontrollable.
He bent down and scooped her up. He threw her over his shoulder like a sack of flour.
Kaliyah slammed her fists into his back. He ignored it. He took long, heavy strides across the room and kicked the bathroom door open.
He tossed her onto the wide marble vanity.
The stone was freezing. The shock of the cold marble against her bare back made her gasp. Bryton pressed his burning body against hers, trapping her on the counter. The extreme temperature difference made her stomach knot.
His arm hit the shower handle behind her. Freezing water blasted out of the overhead fixture. It soaked them both in seconds.
The icy water plastered her hair to her face. It did nothing to cool the fire in his blood. The water only made his grip tighter. His eyes darkened with pure, unhinged possession.
A sharp, tearing pain ripped through her body.
Kaliyah bit down hard on her own lip. Her teeth broke the skin. Warm blood mixed with the freezing water running down her chin. Tears spilled from her eyes, instantly washed away by the shower.
Bryton froze for a fraction of a second. His body tensed as if registering her lack of experience. But the chemical wave in his brain drowned out any rational thought. The storm took over completely.
Time lost its meaning under the freezing downpour.
When it finally ended, the drug's peak crashed. Bryton's massive body went entirely slack. He collapsed onto the wet floor beside the large bathtub, falling into a dead, unnatural sleep.
Kaliyah lay on the cold marble. Every muscle in her body screamed in pain. Her chest heaved. She pushed herself up. Her arms shook so badly she almost slipped on the wet stone.
She looked down at the man on the floor. His face was striking, all sharp jawlines and straight nose. But to her, he was a monster.
A cold, heavy block of humiliation settled in her stomach. She grabbed her torn, soaked clothes from the floor. She pulled them on with numb fingers.
She turned toward the bathroom door.
Footsteps echoed in the outer hallway. Heavy, fast, and accompanied by the sound of men talking.
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8.7
For three years, Blair Guzman poured her resources into turning a broke waiter into an Oscar-winning actor, letting the world believe they were a couple just to keep him under her control.
But the night he won his Oscar, he publicly betrayed her by kissing Kiana—Blair’s estranged, rival sister.
Kiana and her mother brought the scandal right to the Glover family dinner table, trying to humiliate Blair.
"You're just mad because he dumped you for me," Kiana sneered in front of the entire family.
Instead of crying, Blair ruthlessly dismantled them, exposing how their cheap tabloid stunt tanked the family's corporate value.
Impressed by her cold logic, the family matriarch handed Blair the ultimate voting power, but it was a trap.
The matriarch immediately used Blair's elevated status to force her into an arranged marriage with a notorious, debt-ridden playboy just to secure a European shipping lane.
To her family, she was never a daughter—she was just a premium asset to be traded to the highest bidder.
What her greedy family didn't know was that Blair had already made a terrifying deal.
She was secretly married to the ruthless billionaire Butler McIntyre—a man who demanded absolute possession of her body and soul.
Now, her family's arranged parasite and her secret devil of a husband were on a collision course, and the wreckage was going to be spectacular.

9.6
Brenda Vincent thought her biggest nightmare was catching her boyfriend cheating with her roommate on her own sofa.
But her life truly derailed after a drunken night led her into the bed of Bryon Reeves, the ruthless billionaire CEO and older brother of the student she tutored.
Trying to pay off the most dangerous man in New York with a crumpled twenty-dollar bill was her first mistake.
Fleeing the hotel, she accidentally rear-ended his custom Maybach. Bryon used the massive repair bill to blackmail her into being his fake date, parading her at a gala just to make his sister-in-law jealous.
When Brenda finally snapped and fled the humiliation, only to be rescued by his biggest corporate rival, Bryon's twisted possessiveness turned completely destructive.
"If you feel kidnapped, call the police. But your teaching license will be permanently revoked."
He didn't just threaten her. He systematically dismantled her life, using his influence to force the university to freeze her tenure and suspend her without pay.
Brenda couldn't understand why this terrifying man was going to such extreme lengths to ruin a simple tutor who just wanted to be left alone.
Now, stripped of her career, her income, and her independence, she was forced into the sprawling Reeves Manor.
Hearing the heavy mahogany door lock from the outside in her signal-jammed bedroom, Brenda's panic slowly morphed into a cold, clinical rage.
She was trapped, but she refused to be his helpless pawn.

9.3
Chandler was the secret wife of Avery Osborn, a powerful media heir who kept their marriage hidden to avoid the scandal of her illegitimate birth.
After catching him openly flirting with a rival at a gala, Avery mocked her low status and told her she was nothing without his money.
Instead of crying, Chandler immediately signed a zero-payout divorce agreement, left her wedding ring on his glass table, and walked out.
To numb the pain of her shattered life, she went to a notorious underground club.
Drugged by a bartender, she lost her mind and ended up having a wild night with a handsome stranger she mistook for a high-end male escort.
Panicking the next morning, Chandler transferred her entire life savings of $50,000 to the man to buy his silence, then fled to her corporate job.
But at the afternoon executive meeting, her blood ran cold.
The man she had paid off was standing at the head of the boardroom table. He wasn't a gigolo. He was Brennan George, the ruthless new COO of her company.
Cornering her in the women's restroom, Brennan held up a printed copy of her $50,000 wire transfer.
"Wiring a massive sum of cash to your direct superior after a night together is classified as commercial bribery and solicitation," he whispered dangerously.
Chandler was terrified, realizing she had handed him the exact evidence needed to destroy her career and sue her into bankruptcy.
"Marry me," Brennan demanded coldly. "It's the only way to make this HR problem disappear."

7.2
Azura Briggs was just a broke college student working freezing valet shifts to pay her adoptive mother's crushing medical debt.
Her desperate life shattered the night a bulletproof Maybach violently cornered her in an alley, and a ruthless billionaire kidnapped her by mistake.
After a harrowing escape, Azura was forced to take a humiliating "plus-one" gig at a high-end gala just to survive. But her date turned out to be the billionaire's arrogant nephew, who promptly abandoned her to the wolves. Cornered by a sleazy executive and his psychotic wife, Azura was publicly slapped, her dress torn, and left bleeding on the floor while hundreds of elites watched in disgust.
Just as she prepared to fight to the death, the crowd violently parted. Hunter Mcintosh, the terrifying man who had kidnapped her days ago, dropped to his knees in the broken glass and wrapped his bespoke jacket around her trembling shoulders.
Azura was completely paralyzed. Why was the monster who threatened her life now destroying billionaires just to protect her?
But the illusion of safety didn't last. Trapped in his Maybach hours later, Hunter threw a draconian employment contract at her feet.
"Sign it, and her care is covered. Forever."
He knew exactly how to break her. He was offering to pay off her mother's debt, but only if she signed her life away to become his personal assistant. With no other way out, Azura picked up the heavy pen.

9.3
Candice Luna thought her marriage to Julius Hansen was a lifeline to save her father's struggling company.
She didn't know it was a death sentence until Julius coldly slid divorce papers across his mahogany desk.
His true love, Amina Rowe, was nestled in his arms with a triumphant, mocking smile. The "merger" Julius promised had been a brutal, hostile takeover designed to bleed the Luna Group dry from the inside. Bankrupted and utterly broken, Candice's father stepped off the roof of their corporate tower. Meanwhile, Candice was publicly humiliated, stripped of her dignity, and mocked by all of Wall Street as a discarded stepping stone.
She died in a car accident, her final moments consumed by an agonizing, feral scream. She hated herself for letting her blind devotion destroy the father who had always believed in her.
But when Candice opened her eyes to the harsh fluorescent lights of a hospital room, she realized she wasn't dead.
She was twenty-two again. Three years before the wedding. Three years before her father's suicide.
When Julius's assistant walked in holding a bouquet of blue roses to discuss the preliminary merger, he expected a docile, desperate heiress.
Instead, Candice grabbed a glass of water from the nightstand and flung it directly into his smug face.
"Tell Julius Hansen to never, ever send his dogs to my door again."
This time, there would be no engagement. This time, the Hansen family would choke on her family's legacy.

8.4
Juliette was an agriculture major desperately trying to get top-tier CRISPR potato data from Adrian Castillo, the untouchable physics genius and wealthy heir.
But to get it, she was dragged to a high-end shooting club, where Adrian suddenly lost all his legendary motor skills, shooting zeroes and acting like a helpless nerd.
His clumsy act made Juliette a target. Blair, a wealthy heiress, cornered her, mocking her mud-stained cargo pants and calling her a pathetic dirt-girl.
"If you lose, you leave this club and never speak to Adrian again."
Blair challenged her to a professional air pistol match. The crowd of elites laughed, waiting for the farm girl to humiliate herself.
Even worse, Adrian just stood behind her, pretending to be terrified of Blair and whispering that his sinuses would swell shut if Juliette didn't save him.
The mockery and judgment felt suffocating. Everyone thought she was just a desperate fangirl who didn't even know how to hold a gun.
But they didn't know the dark trauma she had buried years ago. And she didn't understand why Adrian, a man who could supposedly shoot a coin at eight hundred meters in a sandstorm, was deliberately playing weak to push her to the firing line. What was his sick endgame?
To secure her experimental fertilizer, Juliette finally stopped hiding.
She picked up the competition pistol, locked her perfect stance, and fired ten flawless shots.
108.5. Total, undeniable annihilation.