The Disowned Heiress And Her Billionaire Protector
I was the rightful heir to the Valenzuela estate, but my aunt and cousin treated me worse than a stray dog.
On a freezing rainy night, they forged documents to strip me of my trust fund and violently ordered their bodyguards to throw me out.
My cousin snatched the rosewood urn containing my mother's ashes. She smashed it onto the marble floor and maliciously ground the white powder under her stiletto heel.
When Aidan, the elderly butler who had protected me since I was a baby, tried to shield me from their assassins in the storm, he was stabbed in the back.
His hot blood poured over my hands as he died in the muddy puddle, while my aunt's men laughed and raised their blades to finish me off.
They thought I was just a nameless orphan they could easily erase.
The next day, they went to the press, branding me a degenerate thief who ran away, happily preparing to parade around at my grandfather's charity gala using my stolen wealth.
But they didn't know I was rescued from the rain by the most ruthless billionaire in New York, a man willing to burn the city down to protect me.
Staring at my pale reflection in the penthouse mirror, I took a pair of heavy silver scissors and chopped off my long hair.
"From today on, the weak girl is dead. I am Evelena Valenzuela, and I am going to make them bleed for every single thing they took."
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Chapter 9
The afternoon sun beat down on the outdoor dirt arena of the school's equestrian club. The air smelled of dust and horses. Evelena wore dark, fitted riding pants and tall leather boots. She walked toward the stables.
She reached for the metal latch of the stall holding the calm thoroughbred she usually rode.
Kenzie stepped out from behind the wooden posts. Brandi and three large boys from the football team followed her. They formed a wall, blocking the stall door.
Kenzie held a black leather riding crop decorated with fake diamonds. She tapped it against her leg. She laughed and told Evelena she should be riding her sugar daddy's lap, not a horse.
The boys laughed loudly. Other students in the arena stopped brushing their horses and turned to watch.
Evelena stared at Kenzie's face. Her expression did not change. She said, "Move," and tried to step around them.
Brandi suddenly stuck her heavy riding boot out, aiming to trip Evelena face-first into the dirt.
Evelena saw the movement. She did not try to step over it. Instead, she brought her own hard leather heel down violently, stomping directly onto the bridge of Brandi's foot.
Brandi let out a sound like a dying animal. She collapsed into the dirt, grabbing her foot and screaming in agony.
Kenzie lost her mind. She raised the heavy leather riding crop high above her head. She swung it down with all her strength, aiming directly for Evelena's face.
The whip cut through the air with a sharp whistling sound.
Evelena's eyes narrowed. She did not flinch back. She threw her left arm up, taking the brutal hit directly on her forearm.
The leather cracked against her sleeve. A line of pure fire burned across Evelena's skin.
The pain did not make her weak. It made her vicious. Before Kenzie could pull the whip back, Evelena's right hand shot out and grabbed the end of the leather tightly.
Kenzie yanked hard, trying to free it. Evelena planted her feet. She did not move an inch.
Evelena pulled the whip toward herself with a violent jerk. Kenzie lost her balance and stumbled forward in her boots.
As Kenzie fell forward, Evelena did not attempt a martial arts kick she hadn't been trained for. Instead, she used Kenzie's own momentum against her. Evelena stepped to the side, grabbed the collar of Kenzie's riding jacket with both hands, and shoved her violently downward with all her body weight. Kenzie lost her footing entirely. She stumbled wildly and crashed hard, face-first, into the muddy dirt of the arena.
The entire club went dead silent. No one moved. They stared in absolute shock at the quiet girl who just kicked the board member's daughter into the mud.
Kenzie rolled on the ground, gagging for air. Her perfect makeup was smeared with wet dirt.
She screamed hysterically. She ordered the three boys to grab Evelena and hold her down.
The boys hesitated, but they outnumbered her. They spread out and walked toward Evelena, cracking their knuckles.
Evelena did not back down. She reached over to a bale of hay and grabbed a heavy, rusted iron pitchfork. She held it across her chest like a weapon. Her eyes looked like a cornered wolf.
She smiled a cold, crazy smile. She told them the first person to step forward was getting iron spikes through their throat.
The boys stopped dead. The murderous intent radiating from her body was real. They believed her.
Suddenly, Milton Yardley, the Dean of Students, came sprinting across the dirt. He was sweating heavily.
He saw Kenzie in the mud. His face turned pale with terror. Kenzie's father funded his salary.
Milton turned to Evelena. His face turned purple with rage. He screamed that she was a violent psychopath.
He pointed a shaking finger at her and ordered the two campus security guards running behind him to arrest her immediately. He screamed that she was expelled.
The two large guards rushed forward. They grabbed Evelena's arms, twisting them painfully behind her back. They ripped the pitchfork out of her hands.
Kenzie struggled to her feet. Brandi helped her stand. Kenzie walked over to where the guards were holding Evelena. She raised her hand and slapped Evelena across the face as hard as she could.
Evelena's head snapped to the side. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth. But when she looked back at Kenzie, her eyes were completely unbroken.
Milton ordered the guards to drag her to the holding office.
Before they could take a step, a deafening roar shook the ground.
A massive, matte-black AgustaWestland AW139 heavy helicopter dropped out of the sky. It hovered directly over the equestrian arena.
The violent wind from the rotors kicked up a massive cloud of dust, blinding everyone and forcing them to cover their faces.
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7.6
Isolde Mitchell knew her wealthy husband was cheating on her, but the true nightmare began when her mother-in-law summoned her.
The older woman coldly announced that the mistress was pregnant with a boy and would be moving into their estate.
Because Isolde's family had gone bankrupt and she had only given birth to a frail daughter, she was deemed completely worthless.
When Isolde packed her bags and demanded a divorce, her husband Clark just laughed.
He threatened to use their ironclad prenup to leave her penniless and take full custody of her daughter just to torture her.
To make matters worse, he forced Isolde to secure a failing business deal with the ruthless billionaire Jacques Valdez, essentially ordering her to sell her body to get the signature.
"If you fail, you will never see Bria again."
He even sent his goons to snatch the little girl from her preschool to prove his point.
Isolde was completely cornered, trembling with a mix of rage and absolute despair.
How could the man she married be such a monster? She would rather die than let them destroy her daughter, but how could a bankrupt mother fight a powerful dynasty with absolutely nothing?
Out of options, she looked at the private business card the terrifying billionaire Jacques had unexpectedly given her daughter.
Swallowing her pride, she decided to make a deal with the devil himself, ready to use his power to tear her husband's family apart.
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.
8.0
Finley's stepfather gave her a sickening ultimatum: marry her predatory stepbrother Shane tonight, or he would throw her fragile mother out on the street.
To escape this hell, she used a matchmaking agency and hastily married a complete stranger. Garrison Strickland claimed to be an ordinary data analyst making $95,000 a year, driving a beat-up Honda Civic, and needing a wife in name only. They got their marriage license at City Hall that very afternoon.
But when Finley returned home to pack her bags and threw the certificate on the table, her family just laughed. Dozier ordered Shane to drag her into the bedroom to "teach her a lesson" and trap her forever.
"Come on, little sister," Shane crooned, lunging at her. "Don't fight it."
Finley's own mother just stared at the floor, blaming Finley for ruining the family, watching blindly as Shane cornered her.
Terrified and desperate, Finley smashed an ashtray over Shane's head and frantically dialed her new husband's number. Shane snatched the phone, mocking the "imaginary husband" before the line went dead. Finley felt a bottomless despair. Garrison was just a normal guy; he would never risk his life against her violent family. She was completely on her own, waiting for the end.
Suddenly, deafening bangs echoed through the house, and Garrison stepped into the living room radiating a cold, terrifying fury. This supposedly "frugal data analyst" effortlessly snapped Shane's wrist, leveled a ruthless death threat that made Dozier tremble, and whisked Finley away in a waiting Bentley. Looking at the powerful man beside her, Finley's heart raced: just who exactly had she married today?
8.0
My abusive step-family isolated me completely, holding my mother's medical funds hostage to control my every move.
Yesterday, they finalized my sale.
"You will marry Rudy Petrov next month. He is fifty, wealthy, and willing to overlook your lack of pedigree."
Pushed to the absolute edge, I did the insane. I posted an ad online offering my life savings of $50,000 for a contract husband. A stranger named Brennan agreed.
But my family wouldn't let me go. They forced me back for a dinner by threatening my mother's life-saving prescriptions.
At the table, they relentlessly mocked my new "poor IT guy" husband and intentionally burned my hand with boiling tea.
Worse, the housekeeper locked me in a guest room and forced drugs down my throat so Rudy could come in and assault me.
I lay there paralyzed on the floor, bleeding from Rudy's slap, utterly terrified. I couldn't understand why my own family would throw me to the wolves, and I felt a crushing guilt for dragging an innocent, ordinary guy into my nightmare.
Until a pitch-black Maybach smashed through the estate's wrought-iron gates at eighty miles an hour.
My "poor" husband kicked the solid oak doors off their hinges, beat Rudy half to death, and carried me out into the rain.
I didn't know it yet, but the ordinary man I hired to save me was a ruthless billionaire, and he was about to erase my family's entire empire by morning.
7.2
Elmore Thomas rushed into the emergency room, clutching his feverish seven-year-old son, Buddy, tightly to his chest.
When the privacy curtain was pulled back, the air in Elmore's lungs vanished. The attending physician standing under the harsh lights was his wife, Kendal—the woman everyone believed had burned to death eight years ago.
But there was no tearful reunion. Kendal looked at him, and her eyes froze into impenetrable ice. She treated him like a biohazard, strictly referring to him as the family member.
Worse, she didn't recognize Buddy. She comforted their crying son with the same gentle warmth she used to reserve for Elmore, completely unaware she was soothing the baby she thought had died.
Days later, Elmore watched from the shadows as she picked up another boy outside a prep school, her left hand flashing a massive diamond engagement ring.
When his butler accidentally recognized her, Kendal shielded her new stepson with pure disgust in her eyes.
"Tell that psychopath to sign the divorce papers immediately. I have a new family now."
The words 'new family' echoed in Elmore's skull, tearing him apart. For eight years, he had lived in a hell of guilt and madness, raising their son in the shadow of her ghost. How could she just erase their past? How could she give her tender smiles to a stranger and look at him with absolute revulsion?
Standing in a luxury ballroom, Elmore squeezed his hand until his crystal champagne flute shattered, thick blood dripping onto the rug. The murderous obsession in his dark eyes returned as he called his lawyer.
"Freeze her divorce application. Use every dirty trick in the book. She isn't leaving."
7.6
I was once the untouchable heiress to the Schroeder empire, until a corporate fraud conviction stripped away my life and threw me into federal prison for five brutal years.
On the day of my release, I stepped out into the freezing rain only to realize I had been utterly abandoned by everyone I loved.
My family sent no one. My former best friends blocked my number, and high-society women took photos of my shivering, pathetic state for laughs. To survive, I made a desperate deal to act as the fake fiancée of Kayden Washington, a ruthless, disgraced billionaire fighting his own blood. But the moment we joined forces, the nightmare escalated. Our safehouse was ransacked, we were hunted by tactical hitmen in the dark, and my adoptive brother stole my dead mother's diary just to bribe me into leaving New York forever. Worse, the digital trail of my framing traced back to a top-tier operative manipulating both our families from the shadows.
I didn't understand why my own family had sacrificed me like a worthless pawn to ignite a massive, invisible war. What dark secret was I actually taking the fall for?
Just as Kayden and I prepared to burn both empires to the ground, a mysterious courier dropped a package at my door. Inside rested the Schroeder Patriarch's solid gold ring—the ultimate symbol of absolute power—sent directly to me, the disgraced exile.
"They took your past, but I will give you the power to forge a new future."
The game hadn't just changed. The board had been flipped, and I was going back to take the throne.