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 6
The moment Jeremy appeared, all the drunken arrogance drained from Roderick's face.
He shot to his feet, panic flashing across his features before he quickly forced a servile smile. "Mr. Yates, this is just a misunderstanding. I had no idea this lady was your..."
"And now you're aware?" Jeremy's voice was low, carrying an unmistakable chill as he looked down at him.
"Yes, yes, of course! I understand now." Roderick nodded repeatedly, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. "Please, Mr. Yates, take a seat. I'll have the staff bring fresh dishes immediately. Dinner is on me tonight!"
Jeremy didn't spare him another glance. His attention remained entirely on Madison.
Madison steadied herself, drawing in a quiet breath before turning back to Roderick. "Mr. Palmer, regarding the project—"
"Miss Wallace—oh, no, I should say Mrs. Yates now."
Roderick's tone shifted dramatically, all arrogance gone, replaced with careful politeness. "It's not that I'm unwilling to proceed," he continued hastily. "But the project has already been reassigned. Our Vice President, Mr. Leandro Swain, will be handling it. He'll leave town tomorrow at three in the afternoon."
Madison's expression tightened. "And you couldn't have told me that earlier?"
Jeremy watched the flash of irritation on her face, a faint, almost amused smile touching his lips. He slid an arm around her shoulders. "Let's go."
They were nearly at the door when Jeremy stopped and glanced back. "Mr. Palmer, if you encounter my wife again in a professional setting, I expect you to treat her appropriately." He paused, his tone turning colder. "My patience is limited."
Roderick bobbed his head repeatedly, his smile stiff and ingratiating.
Only then did Jeremy turn away, guiding Madison out.
Once they reached the parking lot, Madison had just settled into the passenger seat when Jeremy leaned closer.
She stiffened immediately.
Instead of anything unexpected, he pulled a pack of wet wipes from the glove compartment. Taking her hand, he began to clean it carefully.
His movements were unhurried, almost methodical.
Under the soft glow inside the car, his gaze remained lowered, lashes casting faint shadows across his face. His expression was focused, almost meticulous.
He wiped her palm, and then the back of her hand, before moving on to each finger individually.
When he finished one hand, he moved on to the other.
Madison felt a flicker of unease and tried to withdraw, but his grip held firm.
Without looking up, he asked, "Aside from your hand, where else did he touch you?"
She hesitated briefly before answering, "My shoulder."
A darker look settled in Jeremy's eyes; he clearly regretted not dealing with Roderick more harshly.
He took another wipe, continuing the same careful motions, though his hold tightened slightly.
The atmosphere in the car shifted, growing subtly tense. Just as she was about to speak, something caught her attention—a small marking visible beneath his collar, near his collarbone.
It looked like part of a tattoo... letters, perhaps.
Curiosity got the better of her, and she leaned in slightly, trying to make it out more clearly.
But Jeremy reacted instantly. His hand came up, adjusting his collar with deliberate ease, concealing the mark entirely.
"What are you staring at?" he asked, his tone relaxed, almost languid.
Madison quickly looked away. "Uh... nothing."
Her expression remained as distant as ever, but her thoughts were anything but calm.
The way he had hidden the tattoo so quickly, it was obvious he didn't want it seen.
Could it be someone's initials? Someone important?
The thought lingered for a moment before she pushed it aside. It wasn't her concern.
Their marriage was nothing more than an arrangement. Whatever past he carried had nothing to do with her.
The car cut through the quiet night streets, and about thirty minutes later, it stopped in front of her apartment building.
After saying a brief goodbye, Madison stepped out and headed toward the entrance. Before she could reach it, someone suddenly stepped into her path and snapped at her, "Madison, who was that guy who dropped you off?"
It was Kieran.
Her brows knit together slightly. She pulled her arm free from his grasp and glanced over her shoulder.
The black sedan remained parked nearby, its tinted windows revealing nothing of the person inside.
She turned back, her expression calm and indifferent.
"My husband," she said calmly.
Kieran blinked, and then let out a short, disbelieving laugh. "Maddie, seriously? You expect me to believe that? What, did you hire someone to put on a show for me?"
Madison didn't bother answering. She simply moved past him toward the entrance.
Kieran stepped in front of her again, blocking the way.
His voice softened, almost coaxing. "Maddie, I know you're upset, but haven't you dragged this out long enough? Apologize now, and maybe I'll forgive you. What happened with Kristina... it was all just a misunderstanding."
Madison stopped. A quiet, cold laugh slipped from her lips.
"Kieran," she said, her voice sharp with disdain, "who do you think you are? And why would I be the one apologizing?"
The color drained from Kieran's face.
"Take that act of yours back to Kristina," she added coolly. "It doesn't work on me."
Without another glance, she pushed open the door and walked inside.
Kieran remained where he stood, his expression darkening.
For a moment, anger flickered across his face, but it quickly gave way to a smug smile.
To him, this was nothing new. He assumed she was just playing hard to get, something he'd seen countless times before.
Eventually, she'd calm down. She'd realize her mistake.
After all, he had supported her for five years. Where else could she go?
He was certain she'd come back. He'd just wait and see how long she could keep up the act.
But then, his gaze drifted back to the black sedan as it slowly pulled away.
A crease formed between his brows. That license plate... why did it seem so familiar?
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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."