The Scapegoat's Return: Watch Me Shine Now
I was the adopted daughter of the wealthy Reese family, living quietly in the shadow of their biological daughter, Asha.
After a charity gala, a drunk Asha insisted on driving her sports car, only to strike a pedestrian on a dark, wet road.
Before I could even call 911, my boyfriend Collins and the family lawyer arrived to control the scene. My adoptive father put a heavy hand on my shoulder, begging me to take the fall so their true bloodline wouldn't have a criminal record.
"I'll wait for you, Crys. I promise I'll take care of everything."
Collins whispered those words and squeezed my hand. I foolishly agreed, but in court, Collins personally submitted a fabricated statement detailing my history of severe binge drinking. The high-priced lawyer offered no defense, and I was sentenced to three years in a federal prison, completely abandoned by the family I loved.
For 1,095 days behind razor wire, I suffered the ultimate betrayal. They hadn't made a mistake; they had intentionally fed me to the wolves as a disposable sacrifice to keep their precious princess safe. I couldn't understand how the man I loved could destroy me without a single ounce of hesitation.
Upon my release, I fled to a new city with just twenty-seven dollars, deciding that surviving and living well would be my revenge. I finally found a safe haven working at a small diner. But as I drove my delivery truck downtown today, I locked eyes with Collins's best friend through the window of a luxury Bentley. The billionaires who ruined my life have found me, and the storm they tried to bury has officially arrived.
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Chapter 3
The Cedarwood sun beat down on the pavement, radiating heat through the thin soles of Crysta's cheap canvas shoes.
It was Monday. She wore a plain black t-shirt and dark jeans she had bought from a thrift store for eight dollars. They were clean, but they hung loosely on her emaciated frame.
She pushed open the glass door of a local coffee shop. The bell chimed.
The manager, a woman with a tight ponytail, smiled at her. "Can I help you?"
"I am looking for a job," Crysta said. "I can serve, clean, whatever you need."
The manager handed her a clipboard. "Fill this out."
Crysta sat at a small table. She filled in her name. She left the address blank. She moved down the page.
Her pen stopped.
HAVE YOU EVER BEEN CONVICTED OF A FELONY?
Her thumb instinctively dropped to her left wrist, rubbing the raw skin. Her heart hammered against her ribs. If she lied, they would find out during the background check. Lying was a violation of her parole.
She checked the box marked YES.
She handed the clipboard back. The manager glanced at the paper. The smile vanished from her face instantly. Her facial muscles went slack.
"We will keep this on file," the manager said, sliding the clipboard under the counter. "Don't call us. We will call you."
Crysta walked out. The bell chimed again, mocking her.
Tuesday. A fast-food restaurant. The teenager behind the counter saw the checked box and laughed nervously before tossing the application in the trash.
Wednesday. A laundromat. The owner shook his head before she even finished filling out the form.
Thursday. A gas station. The manager, a large man with sweat stains on his collar, leaned over the counter. "We don't hire thieves and junkies here. Get out."
Friday.
Crysta sat on the concrete curb outside a small grocery store. Her stomach was a hollow, screaming cavern. She had eaten half a loaf of bread in five days. Her blood sugar was so low her vision blurred at the edges.
She looked at her hands. They were shaking.
The motel rent for her extended stay was due tomorrow. She had four dollars left. She was going to end up on the street. And if she ended up on the street, her parole officer would send her back to prison.
A wave of nausea hit her. She bent over, resting her forehead on her knees, trying to breathe through the sharp pain in her gut.
A heavy vehicle pulled into the parking space right in front of her. The engine rattled before dying.
Crysta did not look up. She didn't have the energy.
A pair of worn work boots stepped onto the pavement.
"Child?"
Crysta flinched. She knew that voice.
She slowly raised her head. Margo Novak stood there, holding a canvas grocery bag. Margo's eyes widened in shock.
Crysta's chest seized. Shame flooded her veins, making her face burn. This woman had given her twenty-three dollars, and here she was, starving on a curb like a stray dog. She wanted the concrete to open up and swallow her.
"Is that you?" Margo took a step closer. She wiped her hands on the thighs of her jeans. "You look awful. Are you sick?"
Crysta tried to stand up, but her legs gave out. She slumped back onto the curb.
Pride was a luxury she could no longer afford. Her throat tightened, and the words ripped their way out of her chest.
"I cannot find a job," Crysta choked out. Her voice was broken, desperate. "Nobody will hire me. They see the box on the application, and they throw me out."
Margo stared at her. The older woman's face softened. Her eyes grew wet. She was looking at Crysta, but Crysta knew Margo was seeing her son, Ricky. Margo was seeing the exact future that awaited her own child.
Crysta grabbed the edge of Margo's jeans. Her knuckles were white.
"Please," Crysta begged. The word tasted like blood. "I will do anything. I will wash dishes. I will haul trash. I just need a chance to eat. Please."
Silence stretched between them. The sound of cars passing on the street seemed miles away.
Crysta let go of Margo's jeans. She dropped her head. She had pushed too hard. She had ruined it.
"I run a diner," Margo said.
Crysta's head snapped up.
Margo's voice was firm. "It is small. The pay is minimum wage. But I need a waitress."
Margo reached out her hand. The skin was rough, calloused from years of hard work.
Crysta stared at the hand. Her lungs expanded, pulling in a massive breath of air. The crushing weight on her chest lifted just enough for her to survive.
She reached up and grabbed Margo's hand. She nodded violently, tears spilling over her cheeks.
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7.8
Alayna was working a grueling catering shift in worn-out heels to support her broke college boyfriend, Caiden, who claimed to be studying at the library.
But through the crack of a VIP suite door, she saw him wearing a bespoke suit and a Patek Philippe watch, sipping expensive liquor.
"It's a little poverty role-play. Keeps things interesting."
He was laughing with his rich friends, mocking her as his clueless "charity case."
To make matters worse, she was forced into a humiliating mascot costume just in time to watch him passionately kiss his wealthy ex-girlfriend.
That same night, Alayna's mother collapsed with gastric cancer, requiring a half-million-dollar surgery.
When a desperate Alayna begged Caiden for help, he refused.
"Why don't you just apply for Medicaid? That's the path for people like you."
For two years, she had starved herself to buy his textbooks, his tickets, and his shoes.
He had stolen her sweat and her sacrifices, all for a cruel game.
The sheer audacity of his betrayal made her blood run cold.
When a billionaire stranger stepped in to pay her mother's medical bills in exchange for a one-year fake marriage, Alayna didn't hesitate to sign the contract.
She slipped the flawless diamond ring onto her finger, opened a spreadsheet, and sent Caiden an invoice for every single cent.
This time, she was going to dismantle his entire life.
7.2
Azura Briggs was just a broke college student working freezing valet shifts to pay her adoptive mother's crushing medical debt.
Her desperate life shattered the night a bulletproof Maybach violently cornered her in an alley, and a ruthless billionaire kidnapped her by mistake.
After a harrowing escape, Azura was forced to take a humiliating "plus-one" gig at a high-end gala just to survive. But her date turned out to be the billionaire's arrogant nephew, who promptly abandoned her to the wolves. Cornered by a sleazy executive and his psychotic wife, Azura was publicly slapped, her dress torn, and left bleeding on the floor while hundreds of elites watched in disgust.
Just as she prepared to fight to the death, the crowd violently parted. Hunter Mcintosh, the terrifying man who had kidnapped her days ago, dropped to his knees in the broken glass and wrapped his bespoke jacket around her trembling shoulders.
Azura was completely paralyzed. Why was the monster who threatened her life now destroying billionaires just to protect her?
But the illusion of safety didn't last. Trapped in his Maybach hours later, Hunter threw a draconian employment contract at her feet.
"Sign it, and her care is covered. Forever."
He knew exactly how to break her. He was offering to pay off her mother's debt, but only if she signed her life away to become his personal assistant. With no other way out, Azura picked up the heavy pen.
8.5
Alexandrea woke up with a splitting headache in a strange hotel bed, terrified to find a brutally handsome, half-naked stranger beside her.
Before she could even scream, the door burst open. Her adoptive mother, Ivette, stormed in with a swarm of reporters and flashing cameras.
"How could you disgrace our family name like this?"
Ivette sobbed, putting on a theatrical performance of a heartbroken mother. It was a setup to completely ruin Alexandrea's reputation in front of New York's elite.
For ten years, Alexandrea had lived in a house of horrors. Her back and arms were covered in silvery scars and puckered cigarette burns left by Ivette's vicious abuse.
Yet to the public, Ivette had carefully crafted Alexandrea's image as a wild, ungrateful, and manipulative liar.
Trapped under the duvet, Alexandrea was drowning in shame, her voice lost in the storm of accusations.
She didn't understand why her adoptive family hated her so much, treating her worse than a stray dog while using her brother's future to keep her chained.
But what she understood even less was the stranger beside her.
Instead of panicking, the man slowly sat up, his presence alone silencing the frantic room. He was Ace Griffith, the billionaire heir who owned half of Manhattan.
He wrapped his suit jacket around her trembling shoulders, looked Ivette dead in the eye, and dropped a bomb.
"I will be marrying her."
Then, he carried Alexandrea away from her ten-year prison, ordering his men to dig up the Terry family's darkest secrets and her true identity.
8.2
My ex-boyfriend of three years, Axel, married a perfect wealthy heiress.
I attended his wedding, not to mourn our relationship, but because he had spent the last three years bleeding me dry.
He left me with absolutely nothing but a final notice from the hospital for my dying brother's life support.
Instead of feeling guilty, Axel cornered me in the church hallway, crushing my wrist.
"I'll set you up with an apartment. You won't have to work another day in your life."
He thought he could buy my silence with spare change, while leaving my seventeen-year-old brother, Julian, to die when his treatments were cut off the very next day.
When I refused to be his dirty little secret, Axel used his power to utterly destroy my acting career.
He had my talent agency terminate my contract under a fake morals clause, publicly humiliated me on set, and blacklisted me across the entire industry.
I was shoved out into the freezing rain, left with a torn dress and absolutely no way to pay the five hundred thousand dollar medical bill.
He actually believed he could step on my brother's dying body to build his own fake empire.
He thought I was just a weak, pathetic victim who would eventually crawl back to him on my knees.
But he forgot about the one monster he was absolutely terrified of: his legitimate, ruthless billionaire half-brother, Jace Bauer.
Looking at the three positive pregnancy tests hidden in my drawer, I stepped right in front of Jace's armored Maybach.
"Marry me, and I'll give you the heir you need to secure your empire."
7.9
Fiona spent three years in a concrete cell, taking the fall for a hit-and-run accident caused by her billionaire husband's mistress.
When she finally got out and returned home, she found him throwing a lavish party, with the mistress on his arm wearing a gown Fiona had designed. Even worse, her own seven-year-old son pointed at her in disgust.
"Go away, bad woman!"
Her husband Cecil threw her out like a stray dog. To force her into submission, he trashed her belongings and cut off the life-saving medical funding for her mentor. Driven to desperation, Fiona snuck back into the mansion to retrieve her late mother's sapphire necklace. But the mistress caught her, ripped her own clothes, and screamed that Fiona was trying to kill her. Cecil didn't even hesitate. He violently shoved Fiona backward. Her head smashed against the sharp edge of a mahogany desk, and blood immediately poured into her eyes.
Lying in a pool of her own blood, Fiona watched the man she had sacrificed her freedom for wrap his arms protectively around the woman who ruined her life. He looked at her with pure, murderous disgust, as if she were the monster.
But Fiona didn't cry. Instead, a cold smile crept onto her face as her bloody thumb secretly pressed the emergency SOS button on her phone, snapping a clear photo of him standing over her shattered body.
"My husband just violently attacked me. I am bleeding from the head. I need help."
The police were already on their way. It was time to burn his empire to the ground.
7.5
Julianna was drowning in a corporate warzone, fighting a massive department deficit while fending off her mother’s relentless matchmaking.
Then, a ghost from her past returned to shatter her reality.
Eight years ago, Aidan Caldwell walked out of her life without a word. Now, he was back in New York as a ruthless billionaire, and a pitch-black Maybach started stalking her in the dim underground garage.
She had no idea the driver hiding behind the obsidian-tinted glass was Aidan.
She didn't know he had just choked a confession out of an executive, discovering that her "betrayal" eight years ago was a complete lie.
"Stay away from her. The rules are mine now."
Aidan had warned his rivals, his sanity tearing at the seams as he watched from the shadows while a creepy coworker put an arm around her shoulder.
He shattered glasses and crushed her favorite white flowers in his penthouse, driven by a lethal, obsessive jealousy seeing other men touch what belonged to him.
Julianna was completely in the dark, feeling only a heavy, predatory stare pinning her to the cold concrete.
When a sudden, heartbreaking scent of cedarwood rolled out of the cracked car window, her brain short-circuited.
Why was this terrifying stranger stalking her in the shadows?
Desperate to save her career, Julianna recklessly agreed to fake an engagement with a wealthy heir this weekend.
But she had no idea Aidan had already rigged her company's crisis, and the predator was about to tear her world apart to claim her back.