The Disguised Girl: Captivating The Billionaire King
Dasia's twin brother, Gerald, was an e-sports prodigy, the rising star of the Glory team.
But during a crucial moment, he was framed by his own teammates. They orchestrated a trap that completely destroyed his reputation and left his right hand brutally crushed.
Instead of getting him medical help, the club threw him out into the freezing rain, bleeding and disgraced. The manager labeled him useless trash and slapped him with a five-million-dollar termination fee to bleed him dry. Stripped of his pro status, the wealthy bullies at his prep school relentlessly targeted him, mocking his crippled hand and beating him down.
Dasia watched her twin brother cry in his room, his life and dreams shattered by the people he trusted. A violent, suffocating rage boiled in her chest. How could they smile while crushing his hand? Why should the victim be treated like a rotting piece of garbage while the perpetrators get rich and celebrated?
She didn't shed a single tear. She stood in front of the mirror, took a pair of scissors, and ruthlessly hacked off her waist-length hair. She wrapped her chest in coarse medical bandages until her ribs screamed, and pulled on his oversized black hoodie.
"Everything you took from him, I am going to take back with interest."
The girl in the mirror was gone. She was Gerald now. She secretly passed the brutal online tryouts for Glory's biggest rival, the elite Blackflame team, and signed their official contract. The revenge had officially begun.
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Chapter 5
The gang of bullies scrambled to their feet. They dragged their injured leader and sprinted out of the parking lot, terrified of the monster in the black hoodie.
The wind howled across the empty asphalt. The metallic smell of blood hung in the air.
Cody finally found his voice. He let out a wild whoop and ran toward Dasia, throwing his arms wide for a hug.
Dasia shifted her weight and lifted her heavy bag, using it as a shield. Cody slammed into the canvas instead of her chest.
"Holy shit!" Cody yelled, bouncing back. "That roundhouse kick! Did you secretly train with monks? What happened to you?"
Dasia ignored him. Her ears twitched.
Beneath the sound of Cody's yelling, she heard a faint, rhythmic sound. A soft sniffle. It was coming from the undercarriage of a black SUV parked three spots away.
Her muscles instantly tensed. She dropped her bag and moved silently toward the vehicle, her footsteps making zero noise on the pavement.
Cody slapped a hand over his mouth, terrified that another gang member was hiding.
Dasia crouched down and peered behind the massive rear tire.
It wasn't a thug with a weapon. It was a little boy, maybe seven years old. He wore a pristine, tailored uniform from the elite prep school across the street.
The boy was clutching a high-end handheld gaming console to his chest. Tears streamed down his chubby cheeks. He stared at Dasia with wide, terrified eyes.
The violent aura surrounding Dasia vanished. She let out a slow breath, releasing the tension in her shoulders.
The boy shrank back against the tire. The console slipped from his hands and clattered onto the dirty asphalt.
Dasia lowered herself onto one knee, bringing her eyes level with his so she wouldn't tower over him.
She reached out with her long, pale fingers and picked up the console. The screen showed a "Game Over" screen on a difficult boss fight.
Her thumbs flew over the buttons in a blur. Within ten seconds, the boss exploded into pixels. The "Victory" banner flashed.
She handed the console back to the boy.
"The bad guys are gone," Dasia said. She softened her raspy voice, making it as gentle as she could. "You're safe."
Landon stared at the victory screen, then looked up at Dasia's sharp, handsome face. The fear in his eyes melted away, replaced by absolute awe.
"Are you... are you a pro gamer?" Landon sniffled, wiping his nose with his expensive sleeve. "You fight better than my brother does in his games!"
Dasia's eyes darkened for a fraction of a second at the mention of pro gaming. She stood up.
"I'm not," Dasia said. "Go home. It's not safe here."
She turned to walk away.
A small, warm hand clamped down on the fabric of her hoodie.
Dasia stopped. She looked down. Landon was gripping her clothes like his life depended on it.
"I'm lost," Landon said, his lower lip trembling. "My driver went to get coffee and I wandered off. Can you take me to the rich school across the street? My brother is there."
Cody waved his hands frantically behind Dasia's back, mouthing, No! Don't go over there! The elite school was off-limits to public school kids.
Dasia looked at Landon's red, freezing nose. A sudden memory hit her-her brother Gerald, crying in his room after being bullied when they were kids.
A painful knot formed in her chest. The ice around her heart cracked just a little.
"Fine," Dasia sighed. "Stay close."
Landon cheered. He glued himself to her side, his small shoulder brushing against her leg.
Dasia turned to Cody. "Go home. Don't follow me."
Her tone left no room for argument. Cody nodded rapidly and sprinted away.
Dasia and Landon walked down the sidewalk toward the massive iron gates of the elite academy. The setting sun cast long, orange shadows behind them.
Landon didn't stop talking. He bragged about how amazing his older brother was, even though he had a terrible temper.
Dasia kept her hands in her pockets, offering only a low "Mm" in response.
As they crossed the street, a sports car sped around the corner, ignoring the crosswalk.
Dasia's arm shot out. She grabbed Landon by the collar and yanked him hard against her side, shielding him with her body as the car roared past.
Landon buried his face in her hoodie. He smelled the clean scent of laundry detergent. He looked up at Dasia's sharp jawline, completely convinced that this dark, scary boy was his guardian angel.
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9.1
Julian Laurent was known as the most notorious playboy in Rivermont, changing girlfriends as often as he changed his clothes and treating marriage like a joke.
Clara Sterling, on the other hand, had always been the most quiet and obedient daughter of the Sterling family. Raised as the heir since childhood, she had been flawless in every word and every gesture.
A family-arranged marriage forced these two complete opposites into the same life.
On their wedding night, Julian openly made out with a young model at a nightclub.
For the first time, Clara cast aside her propriety, slapping him and demanding a divorce on the spot.
But before the next day was over, their families had forced them to remarry.
This time, Julian managed to stay faithful for a month before he cheated again.
Clara filed for divorce once more, cutting ties with him completely.
However, that very same day, it was revealed that Clara was not the real daughter of the Sterling family, and she was thrown out.
At her lowest point, Julian found her and solemnly promised to protect her from then on.
They remarried again, and from that day forward, the scandals surrounding Julian ceased.
Everyone said Clara was lucky. Even her best friend insisted that Julian had truly settled down, and Clara believed it.
Until she saw him in a hospital corridor, holding her best friend's hand, his voice strained with deep emotion, "I never liked her. You're the one I've always loved!"
It turned out all of his tenderness had been a lie.
This time, she walked away and never looked back.
And the man who had once treated her as disposable only realized after she was gone that he had long since drowned in her quiet love, unable to escape.
9.7
I was an intern nurse working exhausting shifts, yet my mother constantly forced me into blind dates with wealthy, arrogant men to secure our family's social standing.
During a terrifying hospital lockdown, an assassin disguised as a doctor held a scalpel to my throat. I was almost killed, but a high-ranking military colonel threw his own body down a flight of concrete stairs to shield me.
I survived with cuts and bruises, but when I went home, my mother didn't care about my near-death experience. She was only furious that I had rushed out on my blind date with Preston, a rich financial analyst.
She forced me to meet him to apologize. When Preston grabbed my arm, bruised me, and mocked my attack as a pathetic lie, my mother still took his side.
"Men get angry," she told me coldly. "It's your job not to provoke them. You will beg for his forgiveness, or you are no longer welcome in this house."
I had narrowly escaped an assassin, yet my own family was willing to feed me to a monster just for a fat paycheck and neighborhood gossip.
My heart went completely dead.
So, when the intimidating Colonel appeared, offering me maximum military protection through a sudden marriage, I didn't hesitate.
I walked back into my parents' house and calmly slapped a crisp marriage certificate onto the coffee table.
"I won't be apologizing to Preston. I got married today."
7.3
Clara came home from a fourteen-hour board meeting to the sound of a piercing scream in the playroom.
When she rushed in, she found her husband, Chadwick, kneeling on the floor in a panic.
But he wasn't looking at their five-year-old son, Leo, who had a massive bleeding welt on his forehead.
Instead, Chadwick was trembling as he held the nanny's daughter, Autumn, who barely had a microscopic scratch.
"She needs ice. And antibacterial ointment," Chadwick snapped, carrying the nanny's daughter away and leaving his bleeding son behind.
From that moment, the nightmare only escalated.
Chadwick ordered Clara to cook a three-hour meal for the nanny's kid, threw away Leo's favorite toys because Autumn sneezed, and even secretly took the nanny and her daughter on Leo's promised Disney trip.
The final humiliation came at the Met Gala.
Right before their sponsor speech, Chadwick received a frantic call from the nanny claiming Autumn was having a panic attack.
He abandoned Clara in front of hundreds of flashing cameras, sprinting out of the ballroom.
Clara stood completely alone, the humiliation eating through her veins like acid.
She couldn't understand how a father could call the nanny's kid his "little princess" while watching his own son cry.
Why was he treating his own flesh and blood like garbage just to play savior to another woman's child?
Suddenly, the blinding camera flashes were blocked by a massive shadow.
Erasmo Chase, the heir to New York's largest financial dynasty, stepped out of the darkness and shielded her.
"A man like that is unworthy of your grief, Ms. Best," he whispered, pressing a silk handkerchief into her trembling hand.
Looking at the sharp profile of the powerful man beside her, Clara's shock hardened into a lethal, cold fury.
She was going to dump her family's shares, crash the board, and make Chadwick lose absolutely everything.
9.5
"You shouldn't be here, Fiona," his deep voice rasped against her ear, his hand still pressed against the wall behind her.
"Then tell me to leave," she whispered, her lips trembling inches from his. He didn't move. He didn't breathe. And in that moment, she knew he wanted her just as much as she wanted him.
Fiona Harry has lived her whole life in a golden cage of wealth, reputation, and suffocating rules. University was supposed to be her escape, her first taste of freedom. But nothing could prepare her for the moment she came face-to-face with Professor Jalen Hart, her father's best friend. One reckless night changes everything. A drunken mistake turns into an irresistible obsession, pulling her deeper into Jalen's forbidden world. But secrets don't stay hidden forever. Between Jude, her possessive friend who knows too much, Marian, Jalen's wicked wife, and the dangerous power of desire, Fiona is about to risk not only hers and her family's reputation but her entire future.
And what happens when the truth comes out especially to Marian?
8.9
The mangled car teetered on the cliff's edge, my leg crushed, gasoline fumes thick in the air. My husband, Holden, stood safe on the highway, directing the rescue – but not for me. He was saving her, the woman in the passenger seat, leaving me and our unborn child to the ocean below.
I woke trapped in the crushed Maybach, leg pinned. The cliff loomed; the driver's seat was empty.
Holden, safe outside, directed paramedics past me to Giana, his "most valuable asset," ordering her rescue first.
I watched him comfort Giana, oblivious, as the car slid. My baby barely viable. Holden offered a black card for silence; Giana gloated.
Ten years of devotion, a cruel lie. Rage fueled me: how could he abandon his wife and child?
I swore a venomous oath: never again an accessory. I flicked his card away, shielded my pregnancy, and promised my baby escape.
9.6
When a global anomaly awakens dormant powers within them, a neuroscientist, a physicist, and an artist discover they are connected by a force that defies time itself. Mert sees the memories of strangers. Elena witnesses the fabric of reality crack. Kai paints symbols from a past he never knew. Thrown together by fate, they are not alone. Across the globe, others are awakening too-gifted with extraordinary abilities. But they are not the only ones. A powerful cabal-a ruthless financier, a tech mogul, and a charismatic influencer-sees the anomaly not as a warning, but as a weapon. Their ambition shatters the timeline, scattering the group across history: from the smog-choked streets of Victorian London to a transhumanist future, and into a terrifying parallel present. Broken into three teams, the group must hunt their enemies through time itself. To survive, they must master their new powers and forge bonds of love and loyalty strong enough to bend the laws of physics. Their final battle will not be fought in any single era, but at the crossroads of all realities, where the key to existence-the very heart of time-is at stake.