The CEO's Fake Wife And Secret Triplets
Seraphina, a broke single mother of triplets, snuck into a billionaire's charity gala just for the free food, desperate to fund her daughter's urgent heart surgery.
But her genius five-year-old son secretly hacked the gala's raffle system, thrusting them directly under the spotlight. The untouchable billionaire host, Donovan Vance, froze when he saw the star-shaped birthmark on her wrist—the exact same mark from a dark hotel room five years ago.
Cornered, Seraphina was forced into a five-million-dollar marriage contract to appease Donovan's dying father and secure his corporate empire. She swallowed her pride, took the money to save her daughter, and moved into the penthouse. But Donovan's obsessive childhood friend, Gwendolyn, immediately targeted her. She humiliated Seraphina for her poverty and violently grabbed her in the foyer.
"I dare you to get a DNA test. When the world finds out they're not his, he'll throw you into the street himself!"
Gwendolyn's vicious threat made Seraphina's blood run cold. She was suffocating in sheer panic. She didn't even know if Donovan was actually the father. If a test proved he wasn't, she would be destroyed, and her daughter would lose her only lifeline.
But to her absolute horror, Donovan's father overheard the threat and ordered a legally binding paternity test that very day to permanently silence all doubts. With the medical team arriving and nowhere left to run, the terrifying secret Seraphina had buried for five years was about to be dragged into the light.
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Chapter 2
The backstage lounge smelled like expensive cigars and leather polish. It was a suffocating mix that made Seraphina's stomach churn. She sat on the edge of the leather sofa, her arms wrapped around Fiona, while Pax and Rowan stood in front of them like two tiny soldiers facing a firing squad.
The heavy oak door swung open. Donovan walked in, his face set in hard lines, followed by Theodore in his wheelchair.
Seraphina's throat closed up. She pressed her face into Fiona's hair, breathing in the scent of cheap strawberry shampoo to ground herself.
Donovan didn't sit. He stood by the fireplace, his arms crossed over his chest, looking down at her like she was a specimen under glass. "Well?"
Theodore ignored his son's tone. He rolled his chair closer, his eyes softening as he looked at the boys. He stopped right in front of Pax.
"What's your name, son?" Theodore asked, his voice gentle.
Pax didn't blink. "Pax Fletcher. This is my brother Rowan, and my sister Fiona."
Theodore let out a short, surprised laugh. He glanced up at Donovan. "When you were five, you threw a tantrum because the nanny cut your sandwiches into squares instead of triangles. This kid has better composure than the CEO of a Fortune 500 company."
Donovan didn't smile. His attention had shifted to Fiona. The little girl was peeking out from behind her mother's arm, her big eyes-eyes that were a striking, vivid shade of green-watching the room. They were the exact same shade as Donovan's late mother.
Seraphina noticed where he was looking. She immediately pulled Fiona tighter against her, hiding the child's face.
Theodore saw the defensive move. He reached into the pocket of his blazer and pulled out a small, silver music box. He wound it gently, a soft lullaby filling the tense room, and held it out to Fiona. "For you, little lady."
Fiona looked up at Seraphina. Seraphina hesitated, the instinct to refuse warring with the knowledge that she couldn't afford to offend these people. She gave a tiny nod.
Fiona took the box, her face lighting up as the tune played.
Theodore watched the three children, his expression growing serious. He looked back at his son, dropping his voice so only Donovan could hear. "Look at them, Donovan. Put a photo of you at five next to Pax. Nobody would doubt it. And you know Gwendolyn Kensington is flying in from Paris next week. You'd best have your house in order before she arrives with her own ideas."
Donovan's heart gave a violent thud against his ribs. The words confirmed the insane thought that had been spinning in his head since he saw the birthmark. He cleared his throat, forcing his voice to stay flat. "Ms. Fletcher. We need to talk."
Seraphina stood up, pushing the kids slightly behind her. "Mr. Vance, if this is about the raffle prize, we don't need the car. We can just take the cash value, or-"
"No," Theodore interrupted, his voice suddenly sharp. "This isn't about the prize." He locked eyes with Seraphina. "We want to talk about your children."
The blood rushed from Seraphina's head. Her worst nightmare was unfolding. They knew. They somehow knew, and they were going to take them away.
Before she could speak, Theodore doubled over. A harsh, wet cough tore from his chest, shaking his entire frame. His face went from pale to gray in seconds. A private doctor materialized from the corner of the room, rushing to the old man's side.
Donovan was at his father's shoulder in an instant, his cold facade cracking to reveal genuine fear. "Dad?"
Fiona's lip trembled. "Is the grandpa okay?"
Theodore waved the doctor off, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket. He wiped his mouth and looked at the kids, his eyes unnervingly kind despite the pain. "Don't worry, little ones. Grandpa is just old and tired."
The word hit Seraphina like a physical blow. Grandpa.
Donovan froze. He stared at his father, then at the kids, the pieces slamming into place in his mind.
Theodore looked up at his son, his expression hardening. "Donovan. Have Alex take the children to the game room. I need to speak with Ms. Fletcher alone."
Donovan hesitated. He didn't want to let them out of his sight. But the look in his father's eyes brokered no argument. He nodded at Alex.
Alex ushered the kids toward the door. Pax glanced back at Seraphina. He gave her a tiny, reassuring nod, and as he passed the sofa, his hand moved swift as a shadow, sticking a small black dot underneath the frame.
The door clicked shut.
Seraphina stood alone in the vast room, facing the man in the wheelchair. The silence was deafening.
Theodore didn't waste time. "Ms. Fletcher," he said, his voice raspy but firm. "I don't have much time left. The cancer is in my pancreas. Six months, maybe less."
Seraphina's breath caught. The anger and fear deflated, replaced by an unexpected pity. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be. Just listen." Theodore leaned forward, his gaze piercing hers. "I want to die knowing my family is whole. I want to know the truth." He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. "Are these children part of the Vance bloodline? Yes or no?"
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7.2
In the roaring flames of the abandoned warehouse, my skin blistered and peeled.
Through the crackling fire, my sister Elara's malicious voice echoed. She told me my husband, Damien, was dead, and it was all my fault.
For years, I had treated Damien like a monster. I fought him, threw tantrums, and desperately tried to escape our marriage, all because I blindly followed Elara's advice.
"Remember, the harder you fight, the more disgusted he'll get."
She texted me things like that, telling me to smash vases over his head and run away, claiming she was protecting me.
In reality, she was poisoning my mind, stealing my valedictorian spot at university, and plotting to crawl into my billionaire husband's bed.
My foolish rebellion cost me everything, ultimately leading to Damien's tragic death and my own fiery end.
As the massive explosion tore my consciousness to shreds, I finally understood who truly loved me and who the real monster was.
I died suffocating on my own agonizing regret, wishing I could tear Elara apart.
Then, a rush of freezing air punched into my lungs.
I opened my eyes to the crisp scent of cedar and mint. I was back seven years ago, on the very night our marriage was supposed to go to hell.
This time, looking at Damien's flawless, unscarred face, I didn't push him away.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and made a silent vow: I would make every single person who ever hurt him bleed.
8.5
Synopsis
It still feels so unreal being dumped by my boyfriend at the courtyard on the day of our wedding.
David didn't show up and when I called him to know the reason why.
He told me right to my face that he had found love with another woman who happened to be my best friend.
My heart was shattered into a million tiny pieces.
I was wallowing in self-pity when I overheard Lucas talking on the phone about needing a replacement for the woman who has collected a part-payment to be his wife.
I agreed to be his wife without thinking twice wanting to get back at my Ex.
What would happen when two strangers' hearts intertwined?
And what started as an arrangement became a bedrock for something real?
Read to find out.
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.
8.7
"You're leaving," Lorenzo said softly.
Ivy straightened her spine and raised her chin. "I am. I'm getting out of this place even if it means climbing over the front gates. I can't stay here anymore. I'm leaving!"
"You can't," Lorenzo said flatly. "Not now."
"Watch me," Ivy hissed, brushing past him.
Lorenzo stepped in her way and grabbed her by the arms-not roughly, but firmly.
"I mean it, Ivy. You can't leave," he said tightly.
She struggled against his grip, her bag falling to the floor with a thud.
"Let me go, Lorenzo! I don't belong here. This place is insane. Your family is insane!"
"You belong to me," he said sharply, eyes burning into hers. "And it's my job to protect what's mine."
"I don't want to be yours," Ivy cried. "I want to be free! I want to live!"
Something shifted in Lorenzo's face. He looked at her then, not as an obligation, not as a pawn, but as a person. A frightened, strong, beautiful woman who had been caught in a storm she never asked for. And something in him cracked.
Lorenzo reached down and cupped her face with both hands. Ivy flinched at first but didn't pull away. His thumbs wiped away the tears rolling down her cheeks.
"I never wanted to hurt you," he said quietly.
Her lower lip trembled. "Then let me go..."
"I can't," he whispered.
And then, without thinking, he leaned in and kissed her.
***************
Ivy Wesley believed that marrying a wealthy stranger would be her golden escape from a life of struggle. Lorenzo Martinelli was supposed to be her way out: her fresh start, her answer to every prayer whispered in the dark.
But the moment the mansion doors shut behind her, Ivy understood the truth. She hadn't stepped into a fairy tale. She had walked straight into the lion's den.
The whispers about the Martinelli family's ties to the Mafia aren't just rumors; they're real, and now Ivy is bound to them by a ring on her finger and secrets she can never unlearn. There is no undoing this choice. No clean exit. Not after what she's seen. Not after what she knows.
Surrounded by dangerous alliances, ruthless power plays, and truths sharp enough to draw blood, Ivy finds herself caught in a world where trust is a luxury and loyalty can be lethal. Yet in the middle of the chaos, something even more unexpected takes root: a love she never planned for, never prepared for, and may not survive.
Now Ivy faces an impossible choice: run while she still can, or stand her ground beside the man who could destroy her as easily as he protects her. In a world where betrayal lurks behind every polished smile and devotion can cost a life, can their love endure... or will it be the very thing that brings everything crashing down?
9.3
For years, Gabriela believed the man beside her would be the one she grew old with. They had loved each other since they were young, but in the end, all those years meant nothing beside a younger woman's smile.
Returning from a business trip, she uncovered his betrayal with brutal clarity. Still, she did not cry or beg. She took out her phone, recorded every damning second, and filed for divorce the moment she could.
Afterward, she rebuilt her life into something brighter, richer, and stronger, even marrying a powerful tycoon. As for her ex and his shameless mistress, they could rot together.
9.4
Vera thought her life was over the moment she caught her fiancee cheating with his ex.
Broken and filled with pain, she is approached by a billionaire who presents a simple contract to her. Let's get married.
Sylas Gold is the man admired by the entire world. He is untouchable, powerful and incredibly controlled. Their marriage was supposed to be a contract. A performance. It was a way for both of them to win.
When Vera is kidnapped by a man who looks at her like she's already his, she learns the truth Sylas never told her, about his mafia empire, the blood, and the brother who was supposed to be gone.
Cassian Gold is the man who wants everything his brother has, including Vera.
Now caught between two brothers bound by hatred, power, and obsession, Vera must decide who to trust in a world where love is dangerous, loyalty is fragile, and desire might just be her downfall.