Wrong Date, Right Man: Lock Me Into His World
On the day she was meant to marry, Madison uncovered her boyfriend's betrayal-five years of love reduced to a mere placeholder for another woman.
She walked away without hesitation, determined to start over.
But with a looming condition to marry before twenty-five or lose her inheritance completely, she had no choice but to accept a blind date.
Fate played a cruel joke when she approached the wrong man, ending up married to her ex's greatest rival, the most formidable figure in town.
Madison thought it was just a convenient arrangement. He thought otherwise-because from the start, he never planned to let her go.
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Chapter 5
Madison stepped into the project department, pushing open the glass door.
The instant she entered, conversations paused, and every pair of eyes in the room shifted toward her.
A woman wearing black-rimmed glasses walked over, her expression distant. "You must be the new recruit, Madison?" she asked flatly.
Madison gave a small nod.
"Come with me." The woman led her to a workstation by the window and gestured toward it. "This will be your desk. I'm Raelyn Reid, the lead of Project Team One. If you run into any issues, report to me."
With that, Raelyn offered a sarcastic smile before turning on her heel and leaving.
Madison found the interaction slightly strange, but she didn't dwell on it. She took her seat and prepared to start her work.
Yet the entire morning passed without her touching anything related to actual projects. Instead, she was constantly being sent off to handle trivial tasks—printing documents, picking up deliveries, even cleaning the office coffee machine.
She endured it without complaint.
After all, she was new. It wasn't unusual to start off with errands while settling into a new workplace.
When the lunch hour rolled around, Raelyn strolled over and rapped her knuckles lightly against Madison's desk. "Head to the cafeteria and pick up our orders. I'll take the steak set with sauce on the side. Go ask around and make sure you note everyone else's choices too. And also—"
"Hold on," Madison cut in, her patience finally snapping. "Are you guys disabled or something?"
The room went dead quiet. Every head turned toward them in shock.
Raelyn stood frozen, clearly not expecting such a response. "What did you just say?" she demanded.
Madison rose to her feet, standing slightly taller than her. She met Raelyn's gaze directly. "You seem perfectly capable of walking to me. And I'm sure you know where the cafeteria is. So why exactly can't you go and pick up your lunch yourself?"
A flush spread rapidly across Raelyn's face. "Madison, you're just a newcomer!" she snapped. "What's wrong with asking you to handle a few small tasks? Everyone goes through this when they first join!"
"I've already done the errands," Madison responded, her voice steady and deliberate. "Printing, deliveries, all of it. But picking up your lunch? That's personal. I was hired to do my job, not to act as your errand runner."
"You—"
"What's going on here?"
A low, commanding voice cut through the tension from the doorway.
Madison turned and saw a tall man step inside.
Dressed in a sleek black suit, his figure was lean and composed, his features sharp, but his expression carried a chilling detachment.
It was Colten Wallace. Her half-brother.
Raelyn's anger vanished instantly. She hurried toward him, her tone turning respectful. "Mr. Wallace, what brings you here?"
Colten didn't even spare her a glance. His attention went straight to Madison, his eyes sharp and searching.
"You're new here?" he asked.
Madison almost laughed. So he was pretending not to recognize her.
She lifted her chin slightly. "Yes, I am."
Colten shifted his gaze to Raelyn, his voice dropping several degrees. "Is the project department so overstaffed that new hires are being assigned menial tasks?"
Raelyn's complexion drained. "Mr. Wallace, I was just trying to help her get familiar with how things work here..."
"And exactly how do things work here?" His tone was cutting. "Since when do lunch runs fall under departmental responsibilities?"
Raelyn fell silent, too intimidated to respond.
Colten shifted his attention back to Madison.
"The Radiance Media project," he said. "You'll take over starting now."
The assistant behind him hesitated before speaking up. "Mr. Wallace, that project is one of the company's key priorities this year. Ms. Reid has been leading it—"
"She isn't anymore." Colten's voice was absolute. His eyes remained fixed on Madison as he added, "You have forty-eight hours to secure the deal. Fail, and you can clear out your desk."
After throwing her one last meaningful look, he turned on his heel and walked out of the office.
The office remained in stunned silence long after he left.
Even Madison stood there, momentarily stunned.
She couldn't make sense of Colten's intentions. Was this his way of pushing her out—handing her a task no one could realistically complete?
The moment he was gone, the quiet shattered into hushed chatter.
Raelyn's expression twisted into something complicated—part disbelief, part resentment, and unmistakably laced with gloating.
She let out a cold laugh. "Well, you heard him. Forty-eight hours to lock in the Radiance Media deal. Fail, and you're out."
Nearby, a few coworkers leaned in, their voices low but eager. "That client? Mr. Palmer? He's infamous."
"Didn't someone say the last woman who negotiated with him got forced to drink until she landed in the hospital?"
"Closing that deal in just two days? That's not happening."
Madison didn't respond. She simply lowered her gaze and flipped open the file the assistant had placed in her hands.
Across the top, it read "Radiance Media." Client Representative: Roderick Palmer, 52. Profile: Known alcoholic, notorious womanizer, with a questionable reputation throughout the industry.
A cold smile tugged at her lips. So this was the game. Colten hadn't just assigned her a project—he had set a trap.
Still, Madison needed an opportunity to prove herself. And this so-called "Mission Impossible" was exactly that.
......
At seven in the evening, Madison arrived at the restaurant as scheduled.
An attendant guided her into an upscale private dining room, where Roderick was already seated at the head of the table.
She was dressed in a crisp white blouse paired with a fitted skirt that outlined her figure. Combined with her naturally delicate features, she looked striking.
"Well, well. Since when did your company start sending someone like you?" Roderick's eyes lit up with interest. He stretched out his hand, gesturing invitingly. "Come, sit closer."
Madison avoided his hand without hesitation and took the seat beside him on her own terms.
Roderick didn't seem bothered. Instead, he chuckled and poured her a glass of wine. "So you're Madison, right? Young and promising, I see. Let's have a drink first to set the mood."
Madison lifted the glass and took a small, symbolic sip.
Immediately, his expression shifted. "That won't do," he said, frowning. "You have to finish it. That's how things work on my side."
The two male colleagues accompanying her quickly chimed in. "Come on, Madison. Mr. Palmer's just asking for a drink. Don't spoil the atmosphere."
Madison's lips curved slightly. She set the glass back down. "Mr. Palmer, perhaps we should talk about the project first?"
He waved dismissively. "Business can wait. At the table, we drink first. Here, let me pour you another."
He reached for the bottle again.
Madison gently stopped him, her expression calm. "I don't handle alcohol well. If I drink too much, I won't be able to discuss the project properly."
Roderick laughed, leaning back in his chair. "I've already looked over your proposal—it's not bad. But there are details we still need to go through."
As he spoke, his arm came to rest along the back of her chair.
"You should understand," he continued, his tone lowering, "this project has plenty of people competing for it. But for me..."
His hand slid down to her shoulder. "If I take a liking to someone, things become much easier."
His touch lingered. "You're both capable and attractive. I appreciate that. If you're willing—"
Before he could finish, Madison's hand moved and she slapped him hard across the face.
The sound rang sharply through the room.
Roderick staggered, clutching his face in disbelief before fury exploded across his features. "You—" he bellowed. "How dare you lay a hand on me?"
He slammed the table and lunged forward, reaching for her.
But at that exact moment, the door was kicked open with force.
Before Roderick could react, a powerful kick sent him crashing backward into the wall. He collapsed awkwardly onto the table.
The room fell into stunned silence.
Madison lifted her gaze. Standing at the doorway was a tall figure in a long black coat. His posture was relaxed, but there was something sharp and dangerous in his eyes.
Jeremy lowered his leg as if nothing unusual had happened, adjusting his cuff with casual precision. Then he glanced down at Roderick, sprawled across the table, and spoke in a lazy, almost indifferent tone. "Mr. Palmer, what exactly were you planning to do to my wife?"
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7.7
My fiancé always told me he loved me. But not long after our engagement, I woke up suffocating in the dark.
He was pressing a pillow over my face, his eyes cold and dead, while my half-sister stood by watching with fake pity.
They had orchestrated everything just to steal my trust fund.
It all started with a massive hotel scandal. They had drugged me, thrown a cheap escort into my bed, and brought a mob of paparazzi to ruin my reputation.
When my fiancé broke through the crowd, playing the heartbroken victim, he knelt down with a massive diamond ring.
"I know things have been hard, but I love you. If you come home with me, I will forgive all of this."
In my past life, I cried tears of gratitude and let him slide that ring onto my finger.
That ring sealed my death warrant. I lost my company, my dignity, and eventually, my life.
Until my lungs burned and my heart stopped, I didn't understand.
How could the people I trusted most plot my murder so ruthlessly?
Why did they have to tear my entire life apart?
Opening my eyes again, I was back on the morning of the hotel scandal, exactly one year ago.
But the man lying bare-backed in my bed wasn't a random escort.
It was Johnathan Chase, my family's biggest corporate rival and the most ruthless predator on Wall Street.
Listening to the paparazzi pounding on the door, I smiled coldly.
9.5
The disgraced daughter of the Patton family is back from the countryside.At the news, everyone spurned her with contempt!
A good-for-nothing young lady, a crude village wench, a vicious devil...
Until one day--The world-famous life-saving medical sovereign is her.The enigmatic top forensic specialist is her.The grandmaster hacker hunted across the globe is also her.
One hidden identity of the young miss came to light after another.Shocked and dumbfounded, the crowd fell to their knees to beg for forgiveness.
In an instant, Evie was cornered by the mysterious powerhouse.Hartwell's voice lured and mesmerized:"Darling, you have countless secret identities. Would you mind taking on one more, being my wife!"
9.3
Born into privilege, Eleanor never imagined her life could shatter in a single night. Then her father disappeared with his mistress, her mother fell from a building and slipped into a coma, and everything she once owned turned to dust.
Determined not to ruin Jonathan's future with her family's disgrace, she ended their relationship and became the bride of a man trapped in a vegetative state.
She believed that was the last time their paths would cross. But two years later, Jonathan pinned her in the dark and whispered, "Long time no see, my sister-in-law."
7.7
I worked three double shifts at the garage just to buy a velvet-boxed cake for my wealthy girlfriend, Arleen.
But when I pushed open the VIP room door, I saw her lover kissing her bare leg.
She didn't push him away. Instead, she laughed and swirled her martini.
"I only forgot Finn because I knew he would stay. He is a poor boy from Queens who follows me around like a loyal dog."
Later that night, her lover intentionally crashed a Porsche to scare me, sending a piece of jagged metal into my skull.
Lying in a growing pool of my own blood, I watched Arleen crawl out of the wreckage.
She didn't even look at me. She threw herself at her uninjured lover, screaming for a medic.
"He just got scraped by a piece of plastic. He is faking it. Deal with Jaquez first!"
When I woke up, I wasn't free. Arleen had locked me in a private hospital wing with 24-hour security, planning to isolate me and keep me as her broken, captive toy forever.
My blind, pathetic devotion finally froze into absolute disgust.
I looked at the heart monitor next to my bed and grabbed an IV needle.
I severed the sensor wire to trigger a flatline, slipped out the fire stairs while the nurses panicked, and burned my identity to ashes.
This time, I was going to disappear to London, build my own empire, and watch hers burn.
8.1
Arnetta had been married to a wealthy man for three years, but she had never even seen his face.
After a wild night of drinking, she woke up in a hotel room next to a handsome, ruthless stranger.
He coldly kicked her out, mocking her as just another desperate woman trying to sleep her way to the top.
To her shock, she soon discovered the stranger was Brennan Kirkland—her firm's top-tier client and a legendary Wall Street billionaire.
Hiding her true identity as a corporate spy, she manipulated her way into becoming his executive assistant to steal his data.
During a business dinner, Arnetta received a humiliating text from her absent husband, demanding a divorce and calling her a greedy parasite.
"He is a deadbeat coward who thinks money solves everything," Arnetta spat in anger.
"A man who hides behind lawyers is weak," Brennan agreed coldly.
He had absolutely no idea he was insulting his own actions, nor did he realize the wild, gold-digging wife he despised was sitting right across from him.
The next day, her husband's legal team sent a brutal twenty-million-dollar settlement offer, threatening to ruin her if she didn't take the payoff and disappear.
Staring at the degrading ultimatum, Arnetta's hands shook with blinding rage.
She looked at Brennan, who was busy plotting to destroy his own wife, and a terrifyingly calm smile touched her lips.
She wasn't just going to take the money; she was going to completely destroy him.
7.2
Allie Patterson poured fifteen years into her husband Grayson’s tech startup, living in a cramped San Jose apartment. Every penny, every late night coding session, was for their shared future, built on his constant claims the company struggled, always on the verge of its big break.
Then, a grant deed arrived: a stunning $4.2 million Atherton villa, paid in full, listing Grayson and an unknown Kacey Schmidt as joint tenants.
Her coffee mug shattered as Allie’s world imploded. Driving to the mansion, she found Kacey in silk pajamas, flaunting a massive pink diamond and, beneath it, Grayson’s grandmother’s heirloom ring – the one he’d tearfully claimed to have lost years ago.
Kacey purred, "He's in the shower. We were so tired last night."
The words were a serrated knife, twisting, confirming years of lies.
Humiliation and rage burned out, leaving a terrifying, absolute silence. All her sacrifice and trust were a cruel, elaborate joke, orchestrated by the man she loved.
Allie calmly took photos, then gave herself one minute in her beat-up car to mourn. When it passed, her tears stopped, replaced by cold, calculated murder in her eyes. She typed a text to Grayson:
"Come home early tonight. I have a surprise for you."