Follow
Chapters
Share
The Billionaire Proposed  Novel Cover

The Billionaire Proposed

Penelope's wedding day should have been perfect-until she found her best friend in her fiancé's bed. Running from the ruins of her future, she fell into one night with a stranger whose touch felt like safety. No names. No future. Just escape. Until two pink lines changed everything. Years later, Penelope returns with twins, a stronger heart, and no plans to fall in love again. But fate traps her in close quarters with a ruthless billionaire... who happens to be the man from that unforgettable night. He doesn't know she's the bride who disappeared. He doesn't know the children are his. Old enemies want revenge. Old secrets refuse to stay buried. And the man who swore he would never love... kneels.
Chapters
Share

Chapter 2

Hearing those words didn't just shatter her; she felt the sting of betrayal cut deep.

Her hands trembled as she backed away, tears blurring her vision, her heart pounded as though it might rip her chest apart.

Still dressed as a bride, Penelope ran through the hallway like a ghost, carrying a broken heart beneath layers of white silk.

Trying to get as far away from them as possible, she ran to her apartment for her car keys, the elevator mirrors reflecting a bride who felt dead.

Strangers stared but she didn't seem to care, her heart racing faster than her thoughts. She got into her car and drove as fast as possible. Wanting to escape the thought of breathing the same air as them.

She thought of her wedding, but she couldn't go back. She didn't want to see anyone. She didn't want to face anyone-especially Hillary and Geoffrey.

I can't, she thought.

Tears blurred her vision as she drove, and she never saw the car slowing ahead of her. The crash came suddenly-tires screeching, metal slamming into metal, her body jolting forward as the seatbelt snapped her back into place.

Penelope sat frozen, heart pounding so hard it hurt. Her hands trembled uncontrollably as she looked around, disoriented. The air smelled like burnt rubber and dust.

Her car had stalled in the middle of the road, the front end crumpled, smoke curling lazily from the hood.

She blinked, forcing herself to breathe.

Then the other car door opened.

A tall figure stepped out of the sleek black vehicle she had collided with. He scanned the damage briefly before his gaze lifted and locked onto her.

Concern flickered across his face as he walked toward her, his footsteps steady. He knocked gently on her window.

"Hey," he said when she finally lowered it, his voice low and grounded. "Are you hurt?"

Penelope opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came out. The weight of everything-betrayal, humiliation-crashed over her all at once. Tears spilled freely as her body began to shake.

The man's expression softened instantly. "It's okay," he said quietly. "Just breathe. You're safe now."

"What way are you headed?" he asked softly, forcing himself to remain calm despite the inner storm raging within him.

Pen shook her head, she couldn't bring herself to say anything at the moment. She was in a mess.

"It's alright. Let me take you," he persisted. You can't drive and your car can't move an inch. The state is bad, he insisted.

Penelope remained silent, flashing images of Hillary and Geoffrey played in her mind, a reminder of her shattered world of perfection.

The man sighed, a hint of frustration in his voice. "Let me take you somewhere safe, or I'll leave you here, and the cops catch up with you. And I'm sure you don't want Penelope glanced up and the realization of what he said hit her. The cops are the last thing she needs right now.

"I'll go with you." she yielded.

"Great," he said. Gently, he opened the car and helped her out, hands shielding her shoulder and pulling her close to make her feel safe. Her bridal look had faded, and her bow trail was torn from running earlier.

Helped her to the passenger seat, as he instructed his driver to take care of her car and bring it along.

She picked a glance at him and realized how calm his expression was. He looks so good, she thought

He was handsome in a rugged way, with dark hair across his face. When he turned to look at her she met sharp blue eyes filled with curiosity.

"If I may ask, ma'am, where are you going?" he asked.

"Anywhere, just take me anywhere, please," she replied, voice barely above a whisper.

"He arched an eyebrow. "That doesn't sound specific," he said, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Biting her lips, like a rush of wind she muttered, "Your home."

Surprised by what had just left her lips, she froze.

The man's smile disappeared, replaced by a look of utter bewilderment. My home? he echoed.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Anywhere you're going is fine, take me with you." she insisted.

He seemed so uncertain, but left with no choice. He drove to his hotel with so many questions on his mind.

The ride was slow and mostly silent as Pen sniffled, looking out of the window with racing thoughts in her mind.

They pulled up to a deluxe hotel, he turned and asked, "Are you sure you don't want to see a doctor?" His voice was wrapped with concern.

Penelope shook her head. Tears finally dried up.

The man hesitated but couldn't contend it, he sighed and said,

"Look, I don't know what's going on but if you need anything or you want to clear up your mind, you can talk to me, I'm right here to listen."

"Thanks," she mumbled, lifting her hands and helping her out of the car. He led her to his suite, leaving his driver to fix the cars.

In the suite, he helped her find a comfortable place on the couch and brought her a glass of water.

"Please can you get me normal clothes I need to change from this into something more simple," Penelope asked gently.

"Sure, I can do that, someone will be here in a minute," he replied.

Picking up his phone and calling someone to get a simple female dress and bring it to his suite.

What happened? Why were you crying he asked gently.

Penelope couldn't bring herself to tell him what happened, feeling too embarrassed, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks.

Sensing that she didn't want to talk, he rose up and told her, "I think you might want to freshen up, your makeup doesn't look good anymore."

"I'll put your clothes on the bed, you can change in the bedroom. I'll give you some time alone."

A few minutes later, he was surprised to see her in front of him with just the towel on her skin.

"What's going on? Do you need anything? he asked.

"Have sex with me, I want you in me," she stated bluntly.

You may also like

Bound By Contract: The Surgeon's Secret Wife Novel Cover
7.2
I am a resident surgeon, secretly married to Dr. Barrett Walters, the Chief of Cardiothoracic Surgery. It was a transactional marriage; he paid my mother's mounting medical bills, and I was his secret, obedient wife in the dark. But at the hospital, he was a cold-blooded tyrant who deliberately made my life a living hell. During a major medical conference, he viciously tore apart my successful surgical repair, looking me dead in the eye as he called me incompetent in front of all my colleagues. The humiliation didn't stop there. With his tacit approval, the senior residents bullied me, assigning me every brutal night shift. When his beautiful, wealthy heiress "girlfriend" visited the ward, he publicly mocked my background to make her smile. "Some people get in through the back door. They're not fit for the front lines." Even when I was forced to work as a secret banquet waitress to cover the medical copays he ignored, he found me, ruined the job out of pure possessive jealousy, and then fined my meager resident salary the very next morning just to show his absolute control. I endured his punishing kisses and cruel rebukes, sacrificing my dignity just to keep my mother alive. But I couldn't understand why he had to destroy every shred of my peace. If he wanted the perfect heiress, why did he refuse to let me go? Staring at his cold, controlling eyes in the stairwell, my exhaustion finally overpowered my fear. I was done being his victim, and it was time to tear up this contract.
Flash Marriage To The Secret Zillionaire Boss Novel Cover
9.6
Minutes before announcing her grand engagement, Darla caught her fiancé sleeping with her stepsister. She publicly exposed them and canceled the wedding on the spot. Furious, her adoptive mother demanded Darla marry a fifty-five-year-old predator to save their broken business deal. "If you don't do exactly what I say, I'll let your father rot in prison for the rest of his life." Desperate to escape her family's control, Darla grabbed a massive, intimidating hotel security guard she bumped into in the hallway. She shoved all the cash in her purse at him—eight hundred dollars—and begged him to fake-marry her. They signed the papers at City Hall that same day. But the nightmare didn't end. That evening, Darla received a cold phone call from the state penitentiary. Her father had been found dead in his cell, and her company, owned by her ex-fiancé's family, fired her immediately. They had taken everything from her, leaving her completely broken and sobbing on the floor of her tiny apartment. She thought she had nothing left but a broke, fake husband to keep her company. She had no idea that the "poor security guard" holding her in his arms was actually Anson Prince, a ruthless billionaire CEO. And he was already making the calls to tear her abusers' empires to the ground.
His Unwanted Wife Is Madame Lan Novel Cover
7.8
Andrea was trapped in a suffocating marriage with billionaire Gregory Morse, forced to live as the pathetic substitute for his dead fiancée. When armed intruders broke into their estate in the dead of night, she called her husband in pure terror. "Stop playing these cheap, attention-seeking games," Gregory sneered with disgust, and hung up the phone. She barely escaped with her life, but the cruelty only escalated. At the family mansion, his dead fiancée's sister deliberately scalded Andrea's hand with boiling tea. Instead of defending his wife, Gregory publicly humiliated her, ordering her to clean up the mess while calling her a stray dog. That night, hiding in the dark wine cellar, Andrea overheard a chilling confession. Gregory admitted to his brother that he knew Andrea was completely innocent of the car crash that killed his fiancée. He knew she had been framed. Why did he marry her? Just to use her as a psychological punching bag to vent his twisted grief. He watched her suffer every single day, treating her like disposable trash, while violently threatening anyone who showed her an ounce of kindness. He thought she was just a useless, helpless shadow who would quietly endure his torment forever. He had no idea that behind her submissive facade, she was secretly Madame Lan, the apex predator of the global fashion world. And now, she was ready to burn his empire to the ground.
Reborn To Ruin My Cheating Fiancé Novel Cover
9.1
Isabella thought she had the perfect life as the wealthy Conrad family heiress, complete with a loving childhood sweetheart. Until she woke up drugged in a hotel bed, blinded by paparazzi flashes, as her fiancé pointed a shaking finger at her, screaming that she had drugged and seduced him. "She threatened to ruin Kaylie if I didn't sleep with her!" he yelled to the cameras. Kaylie, the newly discovered biological daughter, stood in the doorway weeping perfectly. Within hours, Isabella's adoptive father publicly severed all ties, froze her assets, and kicked her out into a violent thunderstorm. Fleeing the city, her car's brakes suddenly failed. As Isabella lay dying in the crushed metal of her Porsche, Kaylie strolled up with a pristine umbrella and a genuine smile. "The mechanic was quite expensive, but cutting the brake lines was worth every penny," Kaylie laughed. Isabella coughed up blood, her heart turning to ice. Her twenty years of family, love, and loyalty had been nothing but a cruel joke, destroyed by a calculated frame-up. She died suffocating on absolute betrayal and unadulterated hatred. Then, she gasped for air. She wasn't dead. She was sitting in the driver's seat of her car, staring at her flawless reflection in the rearview mirror. It was exactly four years ago—the day the real heiress first arrived. A chilling smirk curled the corner of Isabella's mouth. This time, she was going to rip their lives apart from the inside out.
The CEO's Accidental Bride (Contract Marriage) Novel Cover
7.9
Ivy Bennett proposed to the wrong man. He was supposed to be wearing green. He wasn't. But he said yes anyway. Now she's married to a billionaire CEO she met five minutes ago, living in a penthouse she doesn't belong in, and trying very hard not to fall for the husband who was supposed to be temporary. The contract says six months. No feelings. Clean exit. But Adrian Vale has been looking for her for two years. And he's not letting go. A mistake. A contract. The wrong man in blue.
The Jilted Stray Is A Zillionaire Heiress Novel Cover
7.6
Eloise was the adopted stray of the wealthy Foreman family, mocked daily for her tarot cards and dismissed as a mentally unstable burden. When her adoptive father suddenly collapsed with thick, black veins pulsing up his neck, they didn't blame his corrupt real estate deals. They blamed her. "She's a witch! She cursed me!" Mitch roared, ordering his doctor and armed guards to forcefully drain her blood to cure his supernatural toxin. Her adoptive mother revoked her trust fund and threatened to drag her to a psych ward. Her spoiled sister threw a crumpled twenty-dollar bill at her feet, laughing as the security team cornered Eloise against the wall. Eloise stared coldly at the family that had abused her for years. They had dug up a sacred burial ground to build condos, bringing this deadly curse upon themselves, yet they wanted to bleed her dry to survive. Just as the guards lunged, the heavy oak doors were violently shoved open. An aristocratic butler stepped through the freezing rain, flanked by elite operatives who snapped the guards' legs in seconds. He dropped a three-billion-dollar trust document onto the table as mere "compensation" for her shelter. "Please, Miss Palmer," the butler bowed deeply, offering her pristine white gloves. "Do not dirty your hands in this place." Leaving her adoptive father to his midnight death sentence, Eloise stepped into a waiting Rolls-Royce, ready to reclaim her place in a hidden global dynasty.