The Disguised Heiress And Her Obsessive Tycoon
I joined a brutal wilderness survival reality show, playing the perfect role of a pathetic, uneducated girl from a trailer park.
I needed the five million dollar prize to fund my revenge against the wealthy family that drove my father to his death.
I played everyone flawlessly. I outsmarted the arrogant contestants, ruined a corrupt restaurant owner, and secured enough food to guarantee my absolute victory.
But just as I was dominating the game, a massive black helicopter landed in our camp.
The show's new billionaire sponsor had arrived, and he immediately ordered his tactical guards to confiscate every ounce of food I had earned.
My hard-won advantage was wiped out in seconds. The other contestants cheered, pointing at my empty hands.
"Take that, you greedy bitch!"
But the real nightmare wasn't the stolen food or the sudden rule change. It was the man who stepped out of the chopper.
Glenn Ryan. The ruthless CEO from my past life as an elite heiress.
He took off his sunglasses, his dark eyes locking onto my muddy shoes and frayed flannel shirt with a terrifying, obsessive smirk.
Why was he here? Why did he instantly target me the moment I started winning?
He didn't just know my true identity.
He had bought this entire game just to hunt me down.
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Chapter 10
The sun was bleeding red across the horizon when Anabelle finally walked back into the camp.
Her backpack was light. The straps hung loosely on her shoulders.
The atmosphere in the camp was toxic.
As she dropped the bag onto her cot, every pair of eyes locked onto her. There was no more mockery. There was only raw jealousy and fear.
Kody sat in the dirt near the fire pit. He glared at her empty backpack, his jaw clenching so hard his teeth audibly ground together. He didn't dare say a word.
Camila took a tentative step forward, forcing a weak smile. "Annie... you're back. Maybe we could—"
Anabelle shot her a look so cold it physically stopped Camila in her tracks. Camila swallowed hard and backed away.
Suddenly, a loud, piercing burst of static erupted from the loudspeakers mounted on the trees around the camp.
"Emergency gathering! All contestants to the fire pit immediately!" Trey Vance's voice boomed through the speakers.
Anabelle frowned. Her thumb instinctively went to her index knuckle.
Trey Vance drove into the camp in a dust-covered Jeep. He jumped out, holding a freshly printed clipboard. He looked nervous. Sweaty.
"Listen up," Trey yelled, making sure the drone cameras were positioned perfectly. "Due to the explosive ratings of the last few hours, the network has secured a massive new title sponsor. And with new money, comes new rules."
Kody leaned forward, a desperate hope lighting up his eyes.
"Rule change number one," Trey announced. "To simulate true economic hardship, a fifty percent 'Camp Tax' is now instituted on all private transactions. You sell an egg for fifty bucks, the camp takes twenty-five."
Kody let out a loud, ugly bark of laughter. He pointed right at Anabelle. "Take that, you greedy bitch!"
Anabelle didn't react to Kody. Her mind was spinning. A camp tax? That wasn't a reality TV producer's idea. That was a corporate penalty. Someone who understood high-level economics was pulling the strings.
"Rule change number two," Trey said, his voice dropping. "The new sponsor has sent an executive overseer. He has absolute authority. He can change the rules, and he can eliminate anyone, at any time."
A low, rhythmic thumping sound echoed off the mountains.
The sound grew louder, vibrating in Anabelle's chest. The trees began to whip violently back and forth.
A massive, matte-black AgustaWestland helicopter crested the ridge. It hovered directly over the camp, kicking up a blinding storm of dirt and dead leaves.
Anabelle raised her arm, shielding her eyes from the stinging debris.
The helicopter touched down. The side door slid open.
A pair of polished, handcrafted Italian leather shoes stepped onto the mud.
Glenn Ryan stepped out of the chopper. He wore a perfectly tailored black suit, no tie, the collar of his crisp white shirt unbuttoned. Dark sunglasses shielded his eyes. He moved with the terrifying, effortless grace of an apex predator.
Six massive men in tactical gear fanned out behind him.
The sheer force of his presence sucked the oxygen out of the camp. Kody stumbled backward, his arrogance vanishing instantly.
Trey Vance practically bowed as he approached. "Everyone, this is Mr. Glenn Ryan, CEO of the Horizon Group."
Anabelle's heart stopped.
The blood drained from her face. Her lungs seized.
She stared at the tall, broad-shouldered man standing in the dirt. The memories hit her like a physical blow. The country club. The scowls. The boy who always looked angry when she was around. Mr. Grumpy. What was he doing here? A cold spike of dread shot through her veins as she tried to process his impossible presence.
Glenn reached up and slowly pulled off his sunglasses.
His deep, dark eyes swept over the terrified contestants. Then, they locked onto Anabelle.
The air between them crackled.
Glenn's lips twitched. A microscopic, almost imperceptible smirk touched the corner of his mouth.
Anabelle's breath hitched. She immediately dropped her gaze, staring hard at the mud, pretending the wind had blown dirt into her eyes. Panic clawed at her throat. He knows. He knows who I am.
Glenn turned his head away from her. He looked at Trey.
"This camp is too comfortable," Glenn said. His voice was a deep, resonant baritone that sent a shiver down Anabelle's spine. "Confiscate all their food. Every last crumb."
"What?!" Kody screamed.
The tactical guards moved instantly, storming the cots. One of them grabbed Anabelle's bag, rifling through it before tossing it aside with nothing to confiscate.
Kody's hidden snacks were found and dumped into the black bin. Camila's emergency rations were seized. Diego's stash of protein bars was taken.
Anabelle's hands relaxed at her sides. She had nothing to lose. The game had just reset, and she was starting from zero.
Glenn looked back at Anabelle, his eyes burning with a dark, intense challenge.
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8.9
Aliana braved a heavy storm, carrying a warm stew for her fiancé, Ivan, just as she always put his needs before her own. This ingrained habit, a survival mechanism from a cold childhood, was about to shatter into a million pieces. Tonight, everything she believed was a lie.
The iron gates of Ivan's private villa flashed red, denying her entry, and a guard mumbled lies. Ignoring him, she pushed past, a strange orchid perfume leading her to Ivan's car, where a tube of crimson lipstick lay on the passenger seat. Through a window, she saw him with another woman and a small child, an image that felt like jagged glass twisting in her heart.
Then his words cut through the storm, cold and cruel:
"Aliana is just a placeholder."
He was marrying her for her multi-billion-dollar patent, a secret deal made with her own parents, who had sold her for a kickback to buy this very house. Her family, her love, her future-all were a calculated lie.
Her inner wolf, usually fierce, fell terrifyingly silent, replaced by a chilling resolve. The burning acid in her throat wasn't just bile; it was the taste of her shattered devotion.
She didn't want his apologies or his guilt. She wanted his ruin, and as Ivan walked in with a fake smile the next morning, Aliana was ready to deliver it.
9.3
Halie woke up to a sharp pain and a terrifying reality. She was in a new body, her face covered in a hideous web of scars, and her spiritual power reduced to a pathetic D-Class.
Before she could even process the memories of being framed, her bedroom doors were violently kicked open.
Her sister Seraphina sauntered in with a venomous sneer, followed closely by Halie's S-Class fiancé, Jett.
"Look at the disgrace of the Avila family. What a waste," Seraphina mocked, throwing a mirror at her bed.
"I can't be tied to a cripple. As an S-Class, I have to break our engagement," Jett added, his gaze full of disgust.
The nightmare didn't stop there. Her father called, screaming about how she had shamed the family name. He officially stripped her of her inheritance, froze all her accounts, and exiled her to the decaying Southern District to rot.
To make matters worse, a cold, mechanical voice suddenly echoed in her skull, warning her of an impending genetic collapse. Without an immediate energy infusion, she would face total organ failure in thirty days.
A ruined face, a treacherous family, a world that wanted her dead, and a literal death clock ticking in her brain. The original owner had died in absolute despair, a tragic victim of sheer cruelty.
But if they thought she would just sit there and die, they were severely mistaken.
Armed with a mysterious system and her brilliant scientist mind from her past life, Halie packed her bags. She chose the craziest survival quest: head to the slums, find the exiled, sterile S-Class "madman" Coleman, and cure him to harvest his life energy. It was time to start her counterattack.
8.3
EDEN
8.3
Elianila, an AI Architect, is part of an elite team tasked with designing a global system meant to prevent threats, manage disasters, and distribute resources to vulnerable regions. After five years of tireless work with her colleagues, she uncovers disturbing anomalies, code-named, X-variables, that flag individuals according to criteria she never programmed.
As Elianila digs deeper to understand what the X-variables measure and where their origin, she finds herself in direct conflict with the authorities. Soon, the System marks her and her daughter as threats - targets to be eliminated.
With a small band of colleagues and dissidents, Elianila goes on the run, hiding in places beyond the Systems reach. As they evade surveillance, they race against time to warn others, expose the truth, and fight back against the omnipresent authority of the System.
8.7
For eighteen years, I lived as the lowest Omega in the Silver Moon Pack, surviving only because Alpha Gideon took me under his wing.
But the moment his coffin was lowered into the ground, his wife and the new Alpha son immediately turned on me.
"Her presence has brought a curse upon us!"
Luna Lyra pointed a trembling finger at me in the freezing rain, blaming me for Gideon's sudden death.
She stripped me of my pack ties and permanently exiled me into the deadly wilderness with nothing but a wooden toy.
The entire pack watched with cold contempt as I was thrown out like garbage.
To make matters worse, the new Alpha later hunted me down in the woods, threatening to kill me just to steal the only thing Gideon had secretly left behind for me—an ancient, unreadable book.
I didn't understand why they hated me so deeply, or what terrifying secret this blank book held that made my own pack want me dead.
But the moment my foot crossed the pack boundary, an ancient, immense power I never knew I had snapped free inside my veins.
I was no longer their weak Omega.
And when I escaped deeper into the forest and crashed straight into the arms of a wounded Rogue, my destiny completely rewrote itself.
Because he wasn't just a Rogue, but the legendary Northern Alpha King.
And as his glowing golden eyes locked onto mine, our inner wolves roared the exact same word:
"Mate!"
9.3
The first sign I was going to die wasn't the blizzard. It wasn't the bone-deep cold. It was the look in my fiancé's eyes when he told me he had given my life's work-our only guarantee of survival-to another woman.
"Kelsi was freezing," he said, as if I were being unreasonable. "You're the expert, you can handle it."
He then took my satellite phone, shoved me into a hastily dug snow pit, and left me to die.
His new girlfriend, Kelsi, appeared, wrapped snugly in my shimmering smart blanket. She smiled as she used my own ice axe to slash my suit, my last layer of protection against the storm.
"Stop being so dramatic," he told me, his voice full of contempt as I lay there freezing to death.
They thought they had taken everything. They thought they had won.
But they didn't know about the secret emergency beacon I had stitched into my sleeve. And with my last ounce of strength, I activated it.
7.4
Clara Davis was trained to seduce, deceive, and destroy.
Her mission is simple: infiltrate billionaire Jeffery Rothwell's life, gain his trust, and help seize his empire in exchange for the freedom she has always craved.
But the deeper she slips into his dangerous world, the more the lines between mission and desire begin to blur. Falling for him was never part of the plan and neither was discovering that the man she was sent to manipulate may not be the real Jeffery at all.
Now trapped in a deadly web of obsession, power, and hidden identities. Clara is caught between the organization that owns her, the monster who remade her, and a love that has turned into vengeance. Clara must survive a man who sees everything, controls everything, and may be far more dangerous than the organization that created her.
Because in this game of seduction and revenge, love might be the deadliest trap of all.