Jill Frevert
16 Published Stories
Jill Frevert's Books and Stories
The Secret Heiress's Unexpected Contract Marriage
Billionaires Cassie spent seventy-two sleepless nights working tirelessly to secure a crucial business contract, in order to save her boyfriend's struggling investment fund.
However, when she was preparing to present the contract as a surprise, she found her boyfriend, who was supposedly working late, embracing a strange woman at the hospital.
The woman was hospitalized due to the intensity of her relationship, and as the lead doctor, she was even unrecognizable to her boyfriend.
In response to Casey's questioning, the boyfriend simply replied with arrogance: "Without me, this girl, who has no connection to her family, would not be able to survive."
Cass directly photographed the medical report and then tore up the contract before leaving.
Having wasted three years living under a false identity, she became deeply disillusioned and decided to reveal her true identity as the heiress to a wealthy Ghanaian family.
She believed the rumors that her family was facing a serious financial crisis, so she rushed to the airport, desperate to save her loved ones. In a moment of desperation, she agreed to a loveless business marriage.
She signed the civil registry documents without hesitation, before the cold and ruthless Wall Street tycoon.
She unexpectedly married Keegan Mcguire, the wealthiest and most dangerous man in New York – and he had already recognized her true identity. The Mafia Don Chose Her, Now Watch Me Rule
Mafia For six years, I played the perfect, compliant Mafia wife to the ruthless Boss of the New York underworld.
Until I discovered he had secretly gifted my fifth-anniversary present—a custom armored car—to Isabella, a Capo's beautiful widow.
He drained our personal escape funds of millions to buy her a heavily fortified luxury safehouse.
He even publicly humiliated me, demanding I lend her the Vitiello family's heirloom diamond necklace so she could play the boss lady in front of his men.
The final blow came when I needed life-threatening surgery to remove an old piece of shrapnel from a bullet meant for him.
The underground doctor needed Dante's verbal authorization and the vault code to proceed.
"Stop being so dramatic, I can't leave Isabella right now, she's having a panic attack," he snapped and hung up the phone.
I had to force the terrified doctor at gunpoint to operate on me.
I flatlined twice on that filthy operating table, bleeding out in agony while the man I loved held another woman's hand.
Lying there, I finally understood that my absolute devotion and silent sacrifices meant absolutely nothing to him.
So, I survived, left my blood-oath ring on his mahogany desk, and walked out of the penthouse forever.
I dialed a secure line to his greatest rivals, the Chicago Outfit.
"I'm breaking my ties to the Vitiello Family, and I have your East Coast port strategies." Bound To The Devil From My Past
Romance To save my family's dying company, I was forced to marry a billionaire I hadn't seen in fourteen years.
But right outside the City Clerk's office, he tossed our marriage certificate at me like a cheap receipt and shoved a four-year-old boy into my arms.
"Your new life has begun. You're on babysitting duty now."
He sneered and left me stranded on the sidewalk. I realized with absolute horror that my new husband was Ellsworth Marshall, the sickly boy I had relentlessly bullied in middle school.
He didn't spend five billion dollars to save the Bradford family. He bought me to execute a slow, suffocating revenge.
He used his orphaned nephew as a pawn, explicitly threatening my father that if I failed to play the perfect, compliant nanny, he would instantly destroy our family's legacy.
He even had his guards lock me out of his Long Island estate on my first night, forcing me to stand in the cold dark just to prove he owned me.
I was trapped in a gilded cage, suffocated by the guilt of my past and the terror of my present.
Why did he involve an innocent child in his twisted vendetta? How much humiliation was enough to pay for my childhood cruelty?
Looking at the terrified little boy clinging to my skirt, I tightened my grip on my suitcase.
If he wanted to destroy my will piece by piece, I had to find a way to survive the monster I created. The Unwanted Omega: The Alpha's Late Regret
Werewolf For five years, I was a ghost in the Spencer Pack, a placeholder wife for an Alpha who couldn't stand the sight of me. I endured the neglect, believing my loyalty would eventually win him over.
But at the Moon Ball, when his mistress mocked my disabled mother and I finally stood up for myself, Easton didn't defend me. Instead, he used his Alpha Command to force me to my knees in front of the entire pack.
"Submit," he growled, stripping away my dignity.
The humiliation didn't end there. He forced me to chauffeur him and his mistress to their romantic getaway. He watched silently as they fed me raw meat like a feral dog. And when his mistress framed me for stealing the Luna necklace, he didn't check the cameras. He looked at me with pure disgust and threw me into the silver cells.
He didn't know I was the "Ghost Designer" behind his company's massive success. He didn't know I had lost our child alone on the bathroom floor three years ago while he was on vacation with her. He only saw a wolfless Omega he could use and discard.
Standing in that cold cell, the love I held for him finally turned to ash. I realized I wasn't waiting for him to love me; I was waiting for permission to leave.
I looked at the man who promised to protect me and spoke the words that would destroy him.
"I, Brooke Rollins, reject you, Easton Spencer."
As he clutched his chest in agony, the bond snapping like a whip, I walked out of the cell and into the arms of the rival Alpha who saw my true worth. The Barren Wife's Revenge: It Was You
Modern On our seventh anniversary, my husband Dante tossed divorce papers onto the desk.
He looked at me with cold indifference, his hand resting on the swollen belly of his nineteen-year-old mistress.
"You are barren, Seraphina," he spat. "She carries my legacy. You carry nothing but ghosts."
When I tried to argue, he shoved me.
I fell hard, my back slamming against the concrete floor of the studio.
Pain tore through my abdomen, and warm blood began to pool beneath my red dress.
The tragedy wasn't just the violence; it was the truth he didn't know.
The IVF hadn't failed. I was pregnant with the son he had desperately prayed for.
And in his rage to protect a mistress carrying a stranger's baby, he had just killed his own flesh and blood.
He stepped over my bleeding body and took her to the Commission Auction to celebrate.
He thought I was broken. He thought I was finished.
But he forgot that I knew all his secrets.
I woke up in the hospital, signed the papers that froze his entire fortune, and walked straight into the gala.
I stood before the most dangerous men in New York and threw a medical file onto Dante's table.
"You killed your real son today when you pushed me," I said, my voice slicing through the silence.
"As for hers? It can't be yours, Dante."
"Because according to this, you have been sterile for seven years." Poisoned, Shot, Reborn: Now Watch Me
Modern For ten years, I was the invisible architect of my husband's tech empire, forced to manage his parade of publicly funded mistresses.
But he crossed a line when he destroyed my father's last legacy-a priceless block of marble-to carve a statue for his new obsession, Isla.
When I confronted him, he had me shot, poisoned, and left for dead in a basement.
He framed me for attempting to murder Isla, turning our entire world against me.
He chose her, always her, even as she dragged me to a cliff's edge, ready to push me into the ocean below.
"Choose, Elliott!" she screamed. "Her or me!"
"You," he choked out, his eyes on Isla. "I choose you."
With his betrayal echoing in the wind, Isla threw my father's sculpture into the sea. And as the last piece of my heart sank into the abyss, I smiled.
Then, I jumped. His Love, Her Prison, Their Son
Modern For five years, my husband, Courtland Johnson, had me locked in a rehabilitation center, telling the world I was a murderer who had killed my own stepsister.
On the day of my release, he was waiting. The first thing he did was swerve his car directly at me, trying to run me down before I even left the curb.
My punishment, it turned out, was only just beginning. Back at the mansion I once called home, he locked me in a dog kennel. He forced me to kowtow to my "dead" sister's portrait until my head bled onto the marble floor. He made me drink a potion to ensure my "tainted bloodline" would end with me.
He even tried to give me to a lecherous business partner for the night, a "lesson" for my defiance.
But the cruelest truth was yet to come. My stepsister, Kinsley, was alive. My five years of hell were all part of her sick game. And when my little brother Aspen, my only reason for living, witnessed my humiliation, she had him thrown down a flight of stone steps.
My husband watched him die and did nothing.
Dying from my injuries and a broken heart, I threw myself from a hospital window, my last thought a vow of revenge.
I opened my eyes again. I was back on the day of my release. The warden's voice was flat. "Your husband has arranged it. He's waiting."
This time, I would be the one waiting. To drag him, and everyone who wronged me, straight to hell. From Pawn To Queen: A Love Story
Young Adult The acceptance letter from Atheria Art Academy was heavy in my hands, promising a future I' d dreamed of with my childhood friends, Jake and Noah. We all got in, scholarships secured. But then, Jake' s smile faltered. He and Noah dropped a bombshell: they weren' t going to Atheria; they were choosing community college, all for the new girl, Emily, who' d appeared just months ago.
"It' s because of Emily," Jake stated, his voice filled with a righteousness that grated on my nerves. "She needs us. She' s going to Northwood, so we' re going with her." I wanted to scream, to shake them, but then shimmering, golden letters appeared before my eyes, a phantom message only I could see: "If the supporting character continues to hinder, the male leads will design to lose her scholarship documents. She will then fall down the stairs while looking for them, resulting in permanent leg paralysis, spending the rest of her life in a wheelchair."
More words appeared: "She deserves it! Anyone who obstructs the plot will face consequences!" The world spun. Supporting character? Male leads? This was a cheap novel come to life, and I was slated for paralysis. My blood ran cold, the words I was about to say dying on my lips. They weren't just making a stupid choice; they were agents of a predetermined, horrifying destiny.
My family had given them everything, treated them like sons, and this was their repayment? Becoming pawns who would see me crippled? No. I refused. I choked down the bitter taste of betrayal and forced a calm over my face. "If you' ve made up your minds, then go to community college."
They looked surprised, then relieved, completely missing the quiet fury in my eyes. They thought they were choosing a different path. They had no idea they had just chosen to walk off a cliff. The Wife Who Stole My Dreams
Modern The call came on a Tuesday, shattering my world: my parents, gone. My startup, built on their dreams, imploded soon after, leaving me with crushing debt and hollow ambition.
Friends vanished, family offered dismissive condolences, and I was left a failure, a walking tragedy they wanted no part of.
Then, Emily Vance appeared.
She organized my parents' funeral with quiet grace, held my hand as their caskets were lowered, and publicly defied her powerful family, declaring, "I' m marrying him. He needs me."
For five years, she was my rock as I launched and shuttered ninety-nine ventures, each ending in failure.
Tonight, our fifth anniversary, I was ready to celebrate her unwavering belief.
But through the quiet hum of the restaurant, I heard Chloe' s cynical voice slice through the air: "Ninety-nine failures, Em. When are you going to drop the charity case?"
Emily' s familiar laugh, once my comfort, now twisted into a chilling sound.
"Patience, Chloe. It' s almost over. Mark' s company just secured another round of funding. All thanks to Liam' s latest 'failure' ."
Mark Turner. Her ex. My rival. The man whose company eerily mirrored my own failed concepts.
My roses felt like lead.
"You' re still feeding him Liam' s data?" Chloe asked, awe in her voice.
"Of course," Emily purred, dripping with satisfaction. "Every core algorithm, every business plan. Liam' s a genius at ideas, but a terrible businessman. Mark is brilliant at execution. It' s the perfect partnership, really. They just don' t both know they' re in it."
My salvation was a lie. Our marriage, a business transaction. My grief, my struggle, my desperate hope-all harvested and fed to another man.
"I' m proposing to Mark tonight," she continued, delivering the final blow. "This anniversary dinner is the last one, I promise. A final goodbye to five years of wasted time."
The world dissolved around me. My entrepreneurial dreams, killed not by incompetence, but by the most intimate betrayal imaginable.
I wouldn't go quietly. Not as the broken man she thought I was.
I stepped away, the plan already forming to collect every piece of evidence.
My salvation had been a lie. Now, my ruin would be her truth. Pixelated Promises, Shattered Dreams
Romance For seven years, I poured my soul into "Pixelated Promises," a game that was meant to be the living embodiment of my love story with Liam.
I envisioned it as the grand finale, the pixelated masterpiece that would finally lead to his proposal.
But at the biggest gaming convention of the year, my world shattered as I watched him on the main stage, showcasing my game, rebranded as "Digital Destiny," with his ex-girlfriend, Sophia, at his side.
My characters, my art, my life's work-all presented as her vision, while Liam stood by, beaming, completely oblivious to the dawning horror on my face.
He dismissed my pain, my betrayal, and every question I had, brushing it all off as "just a rebranding" for "the good of the project" because Sophia had a "huge following."
He even had the audacity to suggest that since I "hated the spotlight," I should just "lend" her my life' s work.
Later, I overheard conversations confirming my worst fears: Liam and Sophia' s collaboration wasn't new; it was a premeditated plan spanning years, and I was just a temporary placeholder until his "real love" was available.
My seven-year relationship, my dreams, my very identity-all crumbled into dust, proving I had been nothing more than a convenient tool.
Adding insult to injury, he exploited my critical illness, diagnosed just weeks prior, to manipulate me into continuing to provide technical support for their game.
Then, I stumbled upon a file on our shared server: "Sophia_Game_Proposal_V1.docx," a document containing my deeply personal design notes from five years ago-notes I hadn' t even shared with him-now stolen and claimed as Sophia' s "inspiration."
When confronted, Liam, with sickening nonchalance, asked me to "just let it go" for Sophia's sake, utterly oblivious to the fact that I was dying.
That night, amidst the hollow celebrations for "Digital Destiny," I sent Liam a final text: "We're done. Don't contact me."
The next morning, he showed up at my door, feigning shock at the breakup, and then, in a desperate, performative gesture, knelt and proposed with a diamond ring.
But his theatrical display meant nothing; the man I loved had already stolen everything from me.
When he stumbled upon my medical report, confirming my terminal illness, he crumbled, blaming Sophia, begging for forgiveness.
Yet, his tears were too late; the man I had loved for seven years had left me with nothing but ashes.
I was done fighting not for myself, but for the devastated faces of my parents, I agreed to one last, futile treatment.
In the faint light of an old arcade, surrounded by the ghosts of our past, I calmly told Liam, "We had a good dream once, Liam. It was a beautiful promise," accepting the end with quiet dignity. Her Fiance's Betrayal, Her Brother's Sword
Romance Jack Miller, my big brother and the powerful head of Miller Corp, was presenting university scholarships, a yearly family tradition.
He made a simple comment to a young student, Sarah Vance, noting she shared my exact birthday – same day, month, year, even the hour.
It was a throwaway line, but for Sarah, it became a spark, igniting a terrifying delusion.
In my first life, that delusion grew into a monstrous lie: she convinced herself she was the true Miller heiress, inexplicably switched at birth.
That monstrous lie led directly to my murder.
I can still feel the damp chill of the abandoned warehouse, Sarah's eyes blazing with feverish triumph, the faces of the two hired thugs, Spike and Knuckles.
But nothing cut deeper than seeing Ethan Hayes, my own fiancé, standing by, watching it all unfold.
"She deserves it," Ethan had said, his voice devoid of emotion. "For everything she took from you, Sarah."
The utter betrayal was a punch to the gut.
Liam Hayes, Ethan' s gentle cousin, tried to intervene, but they easily overpowered him.
Then, the dark, churning water of the river enveloped my head, Liam struggling beside me before falling still himself.
How could this happen? How could I be killed for a fictional claim, abandoned by the man I loved?
Darkness.
Until now.
I jolted awake, gasping, my eyes snapping open to the familiar, faded floral wallpaper.
It was the same dusty smell, the exact same day.
The day of the kidnapping.
I was back.
Reborn.
My heart hammered, a frantic drum against my ribs.
This second chance wouldn't be wasted.
I wouldn't be their victim again.
This time, I would fight back. Not Your Nanny Anymore
Billionaires My life with tech billionaire Ethan Hayes, two seemingly perfect children, and a meticulously managed household in New York City, was outwardly flawless, a gilded cage where my tireless efforts remained invisible and unappreciated.
I awakened abruptly, not in the sterile care facility of my terrifying premonition where I lay neglected and alone near death, but startlingly, in my own bedroom, vibrant and 35, now burdened with a chilling crystal-clear replay of a future where Ethan' s deep-seated affection for his college sweetheart, Chloe Vance, alongside our children' s gradual alienation, directly led to my abandonment and lonely demise.
Recognizing this as a dire warning rather than a dream, I swiftly filed for divorce, deliberately setting the stage for Chloe to replace me, hoping to avert the impending tragedy, a decision that paradoxically accelerated my projected torment.
Chloe' s insidious infiltration deepened, turning my children against me, culminating horrifically when my son, EJ, falsely accused me of enabling his severe peanut allergy, prompting Ethan, believing their cruel lie, to forcibly spoon peanut butter into my mouth, and as I choked on the allergen, my children chillingly clapped, proclaiming, "Now she knows!"
The excruciating pain of that forced ingestion, quickly followed by EJ's vengeful shove that brutally fractured my ankle-all met with Ethan's callous indifference and Chloe' s feigned concern-left my heart a barren wasteland, utterly consuming every ounce of the love and years of devoted care I had bestowed upon them.
With an unwavering, steel-cold resolution, declaring "I' m the nanny. And the nanny quits," I severed every remaining tie, abandoning the mansion and their poisonous presence for a new life, irrevocably free, leaving them to face the consequences of their shocking cruelty. The Secret My Mother Buried
Horror My dad vanished four years ago on Widow's Peak, a notorious trail.
I thought I'd finally found closure when rangers declared him dead, burying his ruined journal in our backyard.
But then, late one night, the back door creaked open, and he was back.
Not really.
He was a horrifying shell of a man, caked in dirt, radiating a preternatural chill, and grinning with an empty, fixed smile.
My mom, Linda, took one look at him and whispered, "That is not your father," before fleeing, leaving me alone with it.
Desperate, I unearthed Dad's journal, its water-damaged pages filled with warnings, and a chilling photo of Carol, my biological mother, dead near a cave.
His last legible entry, scrawled in what looked like blood, screamed: "MAYA! LINDA ISN'T YOUR MOTHER!"
My world shattered.
Who was Carol?
And if Linda wasn't my mother, then who was she, the woman who raised me, now possibly a betrayer?
I had to unearth every dark secret the Appalachian mountains held, from the chilling 'Hollow Man' in my living room to the twisted truth of my family, even if it meant confronting the woman who sacrificed everything for me. The PR Guru and The Predator
Modern I was Ava Miller, Hollywood's top PR guru, thriving at my firm, happily pregnant with my fiancé Ethan's child.
One ordinary evening, Ethan's familiar tea tasted odd.
Darkness.
I awoke tied to a chair, dimly lit, only to see Rex Donovan, my volatile client, standing there.
And Ethan. My Ethan.
My blood ran cold as Ethan, with chilling casualness, exposed his betrayal, blaming me for an intern’s past disappearance.
He fed Rex a grotesque lie, fueling the rock star's rage.
The pain was unimaginable; Rex ensured I knew he was killing my baby first, tearing my world apart.
As darkness embraced me, my last sight was Ethan, watching, his face a mask of pure hatred.
"Why?" I choked, blood filling my mouth, grappling with this unfathomable betrayal.
Then, a jolt.
I gasped, bolt upright in my office chair, my stomach flat.
The calendar showed it was *that* day – the day Chloe Sanders first walked in, asking for the Rex Donovan case.
I was back. You might like
FAKE DATING WITH BENEFITS: MY BILLIONAIRE BOSS
Ophelia Corrigan SEVEN DAYS BEFORE MY WEDDING, I walked into our bedroom and found my neurosurgeon fiancé plowing my cousin on our bed.
Six months later, Oliver and Vanessa are married, my humiliation is office coffee-break gossip, and I've done everything possible to disappear off the face of the earth.
Then I find out my grandmother is dying.
This birthday might be her last, and I refuse to let my ex take that from me too.
Problem is, going means facing my own personal nightmare head-on: Oliver and Vanessa, happy and married, right in front of me, while the rest of my family looks at me like I'm a walking tragedy.
That's when Simon Hart-my billionaire boss, arrogant as hell, and the only man who can irritate me, make me laugh, and dismantle every single one of my defenses in the same conversation-makes me an absolutely ridiculous proposal.
"Just think about it." He spreads his hands. " You're tired of everyone pitying you. I'm rich as fuck, handsome as hell, and charming as fuck. Who's going to feel sorry for you when you show up with Simon Hart on your arm?"
The problem is, he's right.
I need a boyfriend to survive my grandmother's birthday weekend without turning back into the official family disaster. And Simon needs a serious girlfriend to prove to all of New York that the city's most eligible bachelor has finally settled down.
It was supposed to be simple. Fake dating. Two events. Some convincing touching. Absolutely zero feelings. Until we added new terms to the agreement. No-strings sex. No jealousy. No expectations.
Just sex.
And it worked perfectly.
Right up until everything went completely off the rails.
While My Husband Cheated, I Married His Powerful Brother
Minja To help her husband build his business empire, Veyra worked two jobs, skipped meals, and sacrificed everything she had. When her mother desperately needed life-saving treatment, she couldn't even scrape together the money.
Then, on a New Year's Eve flight, fate seated her beside her husband's mistress. That's when she discovered the cruel truth.
Her husband had secretly amassed millions long ago. The wedding ring that belonged to Veyra now glittered on another woman's finger. The $500,000 that could have saved her mother's life had been spent instead on luxury gifts and pocket money for his lover.
She lost her baby. She lost her mother. And finally, she lost every illusion about the man she'd loved for years.
After leaving the airport, Veyra walked into a bar, kissed the most dangerous-looking stranger she could find, and spent one reckless night in his arms. By sunrise, she disappeared without leaving so much as her name. She thought it was nothing more than a farewell to her broken past.
She was wrong.
The stranger was Dorian-the most powerful, mysterious billionaire in the business world.
Meanwhile, her cheating husband finally realized what he had thrown away. He begged on his knees, signed a postnuptial agreement worth billions, and swore he would give up everything if she would come back.
But just as Veyra began plotting to reclaim everything that had been stolen from her, a mysterious car accident brought Dorian back into her life.
Only then did she learn the truth. He wasn't a stranger at all. He was her ex-husband's older stepbrother.
Now two powerful men are fighting for the same woman-one consumed by regret, the other determined to make her his.
Sorry, cheating ex... I choose your brother. Accidentally Pregnant With The Billionaire Heir
Bae Writes One lab error. Two betrayals. And a billionaire who doesn't believe in accidents.
Emily Vance thought she was carrying a miracle. After her fiancé, Julian, ended up in a coma following a horrific car crash, she underwent IVF to keep his legacy alive. It was supposed to be her anchor. Instead, a clinical mix-up reveals that the child in her womb isn't Julian's at all. It belongs to Alistair Wolfe, a man whose name is synonymous with ruthless power and a heart made of ice.
The nightmare doesn't stop at the doctor's office. When Julian finally wakes up, he doesn't call for Emily. He calls for her stepsister, Chloe, revealing a secret affair that turns Emily's years of loyalty into a joke.
Backed into a corner by a family ready to sell her to a predatory debt collector to save their failing business, Emily is left with a devastating choice. Her doctors warn her that this is her last chance at motherhood. To keep her baby and escape her family's reach, she has to make a deal with the wolf at the door.
Alistair Wolfe wants his heir. Emily wants protection.
No love. No strings. Just a temporary union until the child is born. But as Emily moves into Alistair's world, she quickly learns that playing the wife of a man like Alistair is a high-stakes game where the heart is the first thing you lose. The Tycoon's Wrath: Protecting His Surgeon Queen
Yixi Yuhuan "You want a divorce? Fine. Complete an IVF cycle, give me an heir to unlock my trust fund, and I'll sign the papers."
In the dim underground garage, my cheating husband gripped my wrist tightly, his face twisted in a mocking sneer.
"Stop dreaming, Ellie. Your family is bankrupt! You think if you leave me, some Wall Street billionaire is going to be blind enough to be your knight in shining armor?"
Looking at his arrogant face, I felt nothing but pure disgust.
For three years of a dead marriage, he paraded his mistress into our marital bed, letting her wear my clothes and carry my bags.
When I demanded a divorce, my own vain mother tried to force me back to be his incubator, all for a seven-million-dollar bribe.
"I'd rather die than have your child."
I looked at him coldly and slammed the "PETITION FOR DISSOLUTION OF MARRIAGE" right into his face.
Infuriated, he tightened his grip on my arm, ready to explode.
Just then, blinding LED headlights tore through the darkness of the garage.
A custom black Bentley Mulsanne glided silently out of the shadows, stopping inches behind us.
The tinted window rolled down, revealing a sharp, lethally handsome face.
The most ruthless, untouchable billionaire on Wall Street-Cosmo James.
He also happened to be my husband's former best friend.
Cosmo's ice-blue eyes locked onto the hand gripping my arm. His deep voice cut through the freezing air like a blade:
"Take your hands off her."
Cosmo leaned slightly forward, radiating sheer, predatory authority. A cold, ruthless smirk touched his lips.
"You asked which Wall Street billionaire is going to be her knight in shining armor."
"It's me." Wrong Room: Sleeping With My Fiancé's Uncle
Natala O'neal To revenge herself on her unfaithful fiancé Kevin, Isidora hides her striking beauty behind a plain disguise, and targets his uncle - the most formidable man Kevin fears.
After one reckless night, Isidora leaves cash as payment and says lightly, "You were good last night." She tries to leave quietly, but is pulled into his arms.
"You think you can walk away after this?" he says, his tone low and possessive.
Cedrick is a feared, untouchable titan on Wall Street - elegant, aloof, and completely uninterested in women. Not even the most beautiful socialites in the city can catch his eye. When gossip spreads that he was seen pressing a woman against a wall and kissing her fiercely, no one believes it.
When the rumors name Isidora, the crowd scoffs. He rejects even the most beautiful women, so why would he notice a plain girl like her?
All doubt disappears when they see the dignified Cedrick drop to one knee to help Isidora with her shoe, pleading softly for just one kiss.
When Kevin finally sees Isidora's true beauty and begs for forgiveness. But Cedrick kicks him out at once, slams a marriage certificate on the table, and says sharply.
"Call her Aunt." Flash Marriage To The Ultimate Sports Tycoon
Dorine Koestler I carried a thermos of homemade chicken soup to the VIP lounge to surprise my husband after his ice time.
But through the unlatched door, I caught him tangled naked on the sofa with Kyleigh—the "grieving sister" of a fallen teammate he claimed desperately needed our family's charity.
I froze in the hallway, pressing my back against the cold concrete, only to hear something even more chilling.
"What if she finds out the Nevada marriage certificate you gave her is completely fake?" Kyleigh purred.
My husband scoffed, calling me a cold, arrogant idiot.
He bragged that once he finished draining my family's century-old hockey trust funds into his agency's account, he would discard me.
Even worse, I realized the four-year-old orphan he had begged me to sponsor was actually their biological child.
Three years of my complete devotion and financial support, all built on a forged piece of paper and a calculated lie.
He really thought I was just a sheltered heiress he could bleed dry and toss aside.
I didn't kick the door open, and I didn't scream.
Instead, I pulled out my phone, calmly recorded their naked betrayal, and dumped the three-hour soup into the trash bin.
Since I was legally a single woman, I immediately called my Wall Street counsel to freeze all my offshore assets.
He thought he was a mastermind, but he had no idea who he had just provoked. Nine Rejected Marriages, I Wed My Ex's Rival
Mattie Valelly Amelia sat alone at the City Marriage Bureau, watching the clock tick down to closing time.
Fifteen minutes before the doors shut, a phone call shattered her last flicker of hope. Her fiancé, Kayson, wasn't coming. He had abandoned their wedding registration because Kamila-her stepsister-had twisted her ankle.
It was his ninth broken promise.
When Amelia returned home, there was no comfort. Her biological mother sneered at her humiliation, shielding the stepsister while ordering Amelia to apologize to Kayson.
"Who would she marry without Kayson?" her mother mocked. "Let's see how long she survives out there without his money."
Meanwhile, Kayson arrogantly dismissed her absence. Finding out she had vanished, he just laughed it off with his assistant.
"It's just a tantrum to force my hand," Kayson smirked. "She still can't live without me."
After nine years of absolute devotion, she was nothing but a convenient placeholder to the man she loved, and a worthless joke to her own family. The suffocating weight of their betrayal finally snapped something inside her.
She packed a single suitcase, threw away nine years of anniversary gifts, and permanently blocked Kayson's number.
Standing in the freezing wind, she pulled out her phone and dialed the private number of Kayson's biggest, most ruthless rival.
"Mr. Thornton, what you said seven months ago... does the offer to marry me still stand?"
Ten minutes later, a sleek black Maybach pulled up to the curb. Wrong Room, Right Billionaire: Ultimate Revenge
Yue Manshuang For ten years, Gidget sacrificed everything for her fiancé, Colin, enduring his family's sneers just to secure the medical funding her dying younger brother desperately needed.
But at a high-society gala, she pushed open a VIP lounge door and found Colin having sex with her malicious step-sister, Dixie.
Worse, Dixie was four weeks pregnant.
"Once I finalize the trust fund injection using her clean public profile tonight, I'll cut her loose."
Hearing Colin's cold words, Gidget threw her engagement ring right into his face.
In retaliation, Dixie threw herself down a flight of hospital stairs to frame Gidget.
Furious, Colin immediately froze her brother's medical trust fund, leaving the boy in sudden cardiac failure in the ICU without the money for life-saving equipment.
Driven to absolute despair and completely abandoned, a soaked and exhausted Gidget stumbled into a luxury hotel to hide from the rain.
She accidentally triggered the private elevator to the top-floor presidential suite.
She didn't know the terrifying Wall Street tyrant inside was suffering from a lethal touch-allergy, and any woman who touched him would trigger anaphylactic shock.
But when he grabbed her in the dark, there were no hives, no pain. Just her scent, which instantly cured his lifelong agony.
After a night of chaotic entanglement, Gidget fled back to the hospital, terrified of how she would pay her brother's bills.
Only to find an anonymous, unlimited medical grant had just saved his life.
She thought she was finally free to start over, completely unaware that the real predator had just locked her cage. Help! My One-Night Stand Is Examining Me?!
Ela Osaretin "Spread your legs," the cold, handsome doctor ordered.
To escape her ex-boyfriend's wedding invitation , Alana Martin attended an elite gala, wore a borrowed gown , and ended up spending a wild night with a dangerously handsome stranger.
Panicked, she fled the next morning -only to end up in the hospital days later with severe inflammation.
But when the curtain pulled back, the "doctor" examining her intimate areas was the exact same man from that night!
Worse?
He was looking at her with a wicked smirk,
"You stole my first night, ignored my note , and now you're playing the amnesia game? I'm the victim here, little lady. Take responsibility." My Accidental Billionaire husband
Favor V April They say what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, mine didn't.
I came back with a marriage certificate bearing a stranger's name, a ring worth more than my parents' love ever was, and a son whose father I've never seen, never known, never remembered.
I went to Vegas for a racing competition. I won. I celebrated. And somewhere between the victory and the sunrise, my life changed forever.
For six years, I've lived with the consequences of one reckless night. I built an empire. I raised my son. And I searched for the man who changed my life without even knowing it.
Then fate laughed in my face.
My sister married my ex-fiancé-the man I was promised to since childhood. The man I was supposed to become Mrs. Windsor for. The man who now wears my family name... and looks far too much like my child.
Every time I'm near him, the past presses closer. Every glance feels like a question I'm terrified to ask. I shouldn't notice him. I shouldn't feel anything. He is my sister's husband.
But some secrets refuse to stay buried.
Because the truth about Vegas isn't just in the ring on my finger or the child in my arms.
It's standing right in front of me.
And when it finally comes out, it won't just destroy a marriage, it will burn an empire to the ground.
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