Menot13
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Menot13's Books and Stories
Forced Hearts: Bound by Fate
Billionaires Letta Letishia finally found herself living in luxury and wealth. However, all of that didn't meet her expectations when she had to marry a man who would be the father of the child she was carrying, the result of a one-night stand with Marco Jovanka, CEO of JV Airlines. Marco also happened to be her superior at work as a flight attendant.
"Are you carrying my child?" Marco asked, staring at Letta with a questioning gaze. Letta, who had been avoiding Marco, could only remain silent as their eyes met.
"Answer me, are you carrying my child?" Marco asked again, growing suspicious of Letta's evasive behavior.
"No, I am not carrying your child," Letta finally replied, causing Marco to tighten his grip on her arms.
"If only I knew that you were lying and hiding that fact, I wouldn't have let you go, Letta," Marco whispered with a low voice, making Letta's body tremble. Even Letta dared not return his gaze, only looking down at the tips of her shoes.
Trapped : pregnant with a Billionaire child
Billionaires Letta tried to stand up because her turn might be called soon. Letta chose to go to the bathroom first until someone accidentally bumped into her shoulder, almost making Letta sit back down. However, Letta felt a large hand now embracing her waist, making her tilt her head slightly, and the next moment her eyes widened when she saw the familiar sharp gaze in front of her. Letta immediately pushed the man.
"You," Letta said, covering her mouth, puzzled about how she could meet this man in a situation like this.
"What are you doing here?" Marco asked, inspecting Letta's appearance, making Letta quickly shake her head.
"I just dropped by," Letta said, unsure of how to answer Marco's question. Marco then looked at the room in front of him, clearly labeled 'obstetrician.'
"You say you just dropped by. Maybe I would believe that if you were in a restaurant or cafe, but this is a hospital. How can you say you just dropped by this hospital?" Marco said, making Letta curse herself. Their attention was then diverted when suddenly the teenager stood between them.
"Uncle, do you know her?" the teenager said suddenly, making Letta also slightly surprised. It turned out that was what made Letta feel familiar all this time. Their way of speaking was the same; they both had a very dominant style in conversation.
"Yes, I just stopped by here. So, excuse me, I have to leave immediately," Letta said, making Marco unable to just let her go. Marco clearly knew that Letta had been waiting in the waiting room to be examined, making Marco immediately grab Letta's arm.
"Are you going to have a pregnancy checkup?" Marco asked again, making Letta widen her eyes.
"Why would I have a pregnancy checkup? I'm not pregnant," Letta answered, denying it with a panicked expression, making Marco furrow his brow.
"I don't believe you," Marco said.
"That's up to you. I'm not going to force you to believe me either. So, excuse me, I have to leave immediately," Letta said, but just as she was about to release Marco's grip, a nurse suddenly emerged and called her name.
"Miss Letta Leticia," the nurse said, making Letta widen her eyes, while Marco looked towards the nurse.
"Isn't that your name?" Marco said, making Letta immediately shake her head, but the nurse called her name again.
"For Miss Letta Leticia, please come in," the nurse said, making Marco once again look at Letta with a suspicious gaze.
"I may not know your full name, but I'm sure you're called Letta," Marco said, making Letta fall silent.
Actually, Letta could have run away, but for some reason, the pain returned to her stomach. The nurse called Letta's name for the third time, making Letta finally raise her hand.
"I, nurse... I'll go in now," Letta said, making the nurse nod before entering the room. Letta then let go of Marco's grip and was about to enter the room, but her steps halted when Marco suddenly followed her.
"What are you doing? Are you following me?" Letta asked, making Marco fold his arms again.
"Of course, I need to know your condition, and you also need to explain. Why did you have to lie about your pregnancy?" Marco said again, making Letta close her eyes. It seemed there was no other way for her to maintain the lie she had been covering up.
"Is it that only those who register with this doctor are here for pregnancy checkups? Isn't the teenager you brought also going to be examined in this room? What's her problem?" Letta asked, making Marco look at his niece.
"She's my niece, and it's a different story from you. She does have some issues with her body, but you're different," Marco said again, making Letta look at him while guarding her dignity.
"Different how? I'm also going to have my body checked. So, it's better if you don't need to follow me, because you're nobody," Letta said, about to turn around. However, Marco immediately stepped ahead of Letta and entered the room, making Letta really want to grab the man with all her might and give him a slap. At least that could make her feel a little relieved.
"Your saga ends here, Letta," Letta murmured, finally resigned to enter and follow Marco to confirm her pregnancy.
The Billionaire's wedding
Billionaires Xavier and Nadira's marriage, arranged by their families, made their relationships even more complicated. Whether it was between Nadira and Xavier, Xavier and Nadira's overprotective older brother, or Nadira and Anita, all these relationships colored Xavier and Nadira's future marriage.
"Has Dad gone to London?" Xavier asked, sitting right next to Nadira. Nadira nodded in response.
"Yes, Dad was taken to the airport by Kenzo, and Kenzo left for the office early this morning as he had to take over the meeting that Dad was supposed to lead," Nadira explained, making Xavier nod. Xavier then took a piece of bread prepared by Nadira. For a few moments, they remained silent, until a waiter approached and handed a small piece of paper to Nadira, making both of them look towards the waiter.
"What's this?" Nadira asked, and Xavier also glanced at the paper.
"A message from the young master, Miss," the waiter replied, making Nadira immediately realize that it was a message from Ditrian. Nadira opened the message, which contained instructions to go to Ditrian's room where he had stored a gift. Nadira found it strange that Ditrian didn't send the message via phone, but she promptly responded.
"Thank you. You may return to your duties," Nadira said, and the waiter nodded before continuing with his work. Xavier looked at the paper held by Nadira.
"Your siblings seem to be very attentive," Xavier said as he took a bite of his bread.
"Yes, because I'm their only sister," Nadira replied without looking at Xavier.
"But your father is a bit distant and strict," Xavier added.
"That's because that's just his personality," Nadira replied briefly, making Xavier gaze at her for a moment before getting up from his chair.
"I'm heading straight to the office. You can go back home with the house driver, right?" Xavier asked as he adjusted his tie.
"My brother asked us to stay for two more days," Nadira said, making Xavier immediately look at her with a displeased expression.
"Didn't you promise that we would only stay for one day?" Xavier asked, and Nadira nodded.
"Yes, initially that was the plan, but my brother suggested it would be better to stay here for a few days. Besides, he doesn't ask this of us often. Just consider it as a return favor because he has been staying at our house for a few days," Nadira said. Xavier was about to speak, but Nadira interrupted him.
"If you don't like it, you can go back to Anita. I'll stay here, but I won't give my brother any reason as to why you didn't stay. He must also know that you're accompanying your first wife," Nadira said before leaving Xavier behind.
Xavier rubbed his face roughly. How could he be so petty? That would surely tarnish his reputation in the eyes of his siblings. Although Xavier had no intention of being a good brother-in-law in their eyes, he still had his pride and didn't want to be looked down upon as a man. Marrying my friend's ex-Husband
Billionaires "Will you marry me?" Axton suddenly said, causing Emily to hold her breath for a few seconds before widening her eyes.
"What? Marry you?" Emily asked to confirm, making Axton nod. However, Emily burst into laughter, even though it felt awkward.
"You're joking, right? This must be impossible. How could you ask me to marry you? I thought this was just a sign that you're frustrated and making impulsive decisions like this," Emily said, making Axton shake his head.
"Do I look like I'm joking with such a serious face like this? Besides, it's not April Fools' Day. There's no reason for me to lie to you," Axton said, making Emily immediately stand up from her seat.
"No, no, no. I think you've come to the wrong person. How could you come to your ex-wife's best friend to propose marriage? You don't want to ruin our friendship, do you?" Emily asked, making Axton sigh deeply.
"Because you're the only one who can understand, and by marrying you, Grace will realize her mistake," Axton said, leaving Emily speechless.
Emily didn't know whether Grace and Axton were aware of her feelings or not. What she was sure of was that, over the years, she had successfully hidden her feelings well, keeping her admiration and love for Axton, her best friend's husband, to herself.
Emily didn't know when those feelings had emerged. She also didn't know why those emotions suddenly filled her heart, unstoppable and undeniable. Now, Axton had proposed to her for a clichéd reason, to make Grace divorce Ethan, and Emily had reluctantly accepted. Despite facing Grace's anger for being perceived as a traitor, Emily went along with the decision. But Emily knew that this wouldn't be smooth sailing, as she had finally set some conditions for Axton.
"All right, I accept your proposal, but with a few conditions," Emily's decision marked the beginning of their love story.
Broken Season
Billionaires Yes, us. I don't want to marry you," Luna stated, her gaze fixed on Lucas's face, devoid of expression.
"So, you're going to marry the pianist then?" Lucas guessed, causing Luna to become more certain that the man in front of her was already aware of everything.
"Of course. I love him, so I will marry him," Luna replied, observing Lucas's reaction carefully.
"But this time, I need this marriage," Luna continued, dismissing Lucas's scoffing smile.
"And?" Lucas asked.
"We'll make a prenuptial agreement," Luna declared.
"Do you think I'll agree?" Lucas responded dismissively.
"You have to agree. Whether you like it or not, we're going to make a prenuptial agreement," Luna insisted, prompting a threatening smile from Lucas.
"Luna Estrada, you're too confident. Do you think I'd agree to this marriage? I even declined it," Lucas replied, belittling her.
"We're not going to make a prenuptial agreement because we're never going to get married," Lucas added, causing Luna to clench her fists as if she had been rejected by the man before her. How could Luna Estrada face rejection? She couldn't allow it to happen.
"Hahahahah." Luna forced a laugh, attempting to make it sound mocking to Lucas, although at this moment, she wished she could throw her heel at Lucas's head.
"Then why did your grandfather force my grandfather to persuade me to accept this marriage, huh?" Luna said with traces of laughter in her voice, emphasizing each word.
"Are you serious?" Lucas asked, his face showing mockery.
"Didn't you ask your grandfather who would marry you? Weren't you suspicious? Who knows, maybe your grandfather was referring to my own grandfather, trying to match us," Luna's inner thoughts raced, attempting to calm herself.
"You're quite amusing, Mr. Alvarez. If it's not you who's going to marry me, then why did you come to that dinner event? Didn't you say those affectionate words to me, claiming that I was your future wife?" Luna retorted, not wanting to be outdone by Lucas.
"Why did I come? Of course, to witness the performance of a couple who would part ways that night. Isn't that an enjoyable spectacle? I was afraid that if my grandfather attended himself, he wouldn't be able to bear seeing you both cry and hug each other. You know my grandfather is a soft-hearted person. Hence, I chose to replace him that night," Lucas's words provoked Luna even more.
"Stop your nonsense," Luna snapped, causing Lucas to display a smug smile. Finally, Lucas managed to provoke Luna Estrada, who usually had difficulty controlling her emotions.
Luna stood up from her seat, glaring at Lucas with escalating anger as he continued to smirk and taunt her. You might like
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." The Jilted Wife Is A Secret Heiress
Zi Ya The Wellington beef sat cold on the mahogany table, a graying monument to three years of wasted devotion. It was my birthday and our anniversary, but my husband, Hamilton McKee, didn't even look at the gift I’d spent months knitting.
"Our marriage is a transaction," he said, his voice cutting like a scalpel. "Stop trying to make it a romance novel. I just need you to stop existing in my space for five minutes."
Then his phone buzzed with a call from Cuba, the ex-girlfriend he never truly left. His cold mask shattered into frantic concern, a look he had never once given me. "I'm coming," he whispered to her, sprinting for the door without a backward glance at the wife he was leaving behind.
I chased him into the freezing Boston night, only to be swarmed by predatory paparazzi. As Hamilton’s Maybach roared away, a heavy camera bag slammed into my shoulder. I slipped on the black ice, my skull hitting a granite gate pillar with a sickening crack.
Warm blood trickled down my neck, and as the world tilted, the fog in my brain finally cleared. I wasn't the penniless orphan from Southie he thought I was. Images of sterile operating rooms, complex sutures, and a billion-dollar inheritance flooded back—along with the memory of the car wreck three years ago where I was the one who pulled Hamilton from the flames, not Cuba.
How could I have spent three years begging for scraps of affection from a man who didn't even recognize his own savior? Why did I let a fraud steal my life while I played the role of a submissive shadow?
When I woke up in the hospital, the trembling girl was gone. I ripped the IV from my arm and stared at the man who had come back only to demand I stay out of his way. I didn't cry. I didn't beg. I simply handed him a piece of paper with one word written in the sharp, confident script of a woman who owned half the city: DIVORCE.
"Sign it, Hamilton," I said, my voice like ice. "Because by tomorrow, I’m not just leaving you—I’m taking the McKee empire with me." Flash Marriage To The Secret Billionaire
William Jafferson My mother called me a defective product and insisted I marry Preston Finch, a man who treated our first date like a corporate merger.
During our lunch, Preston demanded I clean his car like a servant, his arrogance snapping the last thread of my patience.
I threw my iced coffee right into his lap, sending the cafe into a stunned silence as he screamed insults about my background and the cost of his designer pants.
My mother didn't care about the abuse; she only cared that I had lost a "catch," calling me an embarrassment and threatening my future while my flower shop faced imminent foreclosure.
Trapped by debt and my family’s relentless cruelty, I felt like a drowning woman with nowhere left to turn.
Just as I hit rock bottom, Connor Powers—my brother's old roommate—stepped in, his icy gaze promising a brutal end to my misery.
"Let's get married," he said, offering a cold, calculated contract that would shield me from my family forever.
I signed the papers, unaware that I had just tethered my life to a man whose world was far more dangerous than I could have ever imagined. His Accidental Cure: The Runaway Contract Wife
Norrra I was drugged and sent to a hotel room to be compromised, but I ended up in the presidential suite with a stranger.
I didn't know the man I clung to in my hallucinogenic haze was my own husband, Devaughn Winters, a man I hadn't spoken to in a year.
When I woke up the next morning, the terror of what I’d done hit me like a physical blow. I fled, leaving behind nothing but a shredded dress and a lingering sense of dread.
I thought I’d finally escaped the cold, suffocating contract of our marriage when I signed the divorce papers, but I was wrong.
My mother-in-law arrived at my apartment, freezing my sick mother’s medical funds and threatening to ruin me for the "infidelity" she claimed I’d committed.
She dragged my secrets into the light, leaving me with no choice but to fight back with a knife in my hand and a 911 call on speaker.
But just as I thought I was free, the man I’d spent the night with—the man who was supposed to be my stranger—tore up our divorce papers and declared that I was his to keep.
I was a pawn in a game I didn't understand, trapped between a ruthless father who wanted to sell me for corporate secrets and a husband who demanded I belong to him in life and in death.
How did he not know who I was that night, and why is he suddenly claiming me as his own?
I’m done being a victim, and if he thinks he can own me, he’s about to find out exactly what happens when a cornered woman decides to burn it all down. Discarded By Him, Claimed By The Zillionaire
TESS WHITE I was Landon Mercer's secret girlfriend and loyal assistant for four years. I thought my absolute devotion would eventually win his heart.
But he casually announced his engagement to a wealthy heiress, reminding me I was just a convenient nobody from an orphanage.
When I got trapped in a horrific car crash and begged him to call an ambulance, he just hung up on me, annoyed that my bleeding was ruining his romantic getaway.
He even blackmailed me with my orphanage's land lease, forcing me to attend his engagement party as a prop.
At the party, his elite family and friends brutally humiliated me.
They deliberately crushed my broken arm, poured red wine over my head, and kicked me into a freezing pond.
When Landon finally pulled me out, he didn't care that I was suffocating and turning blue.
"Are you out of your mind? You come out here and cause a scene during my engagement party?"
He threw a stack of cash at my shivering body, furious that I had embarrassed him in front of his wealthy guests.
Looking at the hundred-dollar bills floating in the muddy water, my four years of foolish love completely died.
To him, I wasn't even human; I was just a cheap toy he could abuse and pass around.
I didn't cry, and I didn't beg.
I dragged my soaked, battered body into a car and headed straight to the penthouse of his biggest billionaire rival.
It was time to burn Landon Mercer's world to the ground. No More Your Scorned Wife: The Medical Empress Returns
Ela Osaretin "Sign it. Save her, and I'll give you anything."
For four years, I was Damian Wright's 'invisible wife'.
While I played the pauper, he poured his soul into his dying first love. Desperate, he blindly signed a stack of papers to buy the 'Gifted Doctor's' time.
He didn't read the fine print. Buried inside was our Divorce Decree.
"Congratulations, Damian," I said, stripping off my surgical mask to reveal the wife he never truly knew. "You're free."
The submissive Amelia is dead.
The legendary 'Ghost Surgeon'? That's me.
The blindfolded racing queen 'Raven'? Also me.
The shadow behind the global intelligence network V-Null? Still me.
I was ready to vanish, but Lucas Sullivan-the titan who makes the Wrights look like peasants-blocked my path.
When Damian tried to reclaim me, Lucas didn't just stop him; he brought an empire to its knees.
"They don't deserve to look at you," Lucas whispered, his touch a lethal mix of protection and obsession. "But if you crave the world, Amelia, I'll burn it down just to hear you say my name."
I Slapped My Fiancé-Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis
Jessica C. Dolan Being second best is practically in my DNA. My sister got the love, the attention, the spotlight. And now, even her damn fiancé.
Technically, Rhys Granger was my fiancé now-billionaire, devastatingly hot, and a walking Wall Street wet dream. My parents shoved me into the engagement after Catherine disappeared, and honestly? I didn't mind. I'd crushed on Rhys for years. This was my chance, right? My turn to be the chosen one?
Wrong.
One night, he slapped me. Over a mug. A stupid, chipped, ugly mug my sister gave him years ago. That's when it hit me-he didn't love me. He didn't even see me. I was just a warm-bodied placeholder for the woman he actually wanted. And apparently, I wasn't even worth as much as a glorified coffee cup.
So I slapped him right back, dumped his ass, and prepared for disaster-my parents losing their minds, Rhys throwing a billionaire tantrum, his terrifying family plotting my untimely demise.
Obviously, I needed alcohol. A lot of alcohol.
Enter him.
Tall, dangerous, unfairly hot. The kind of man who makes you want to sin just by existing. I'd met him only once before, and that night, he just happened to be at the same bar as my drunk, self-pitying self. So I did the only logical thing: I dragged him into a hotel room and ripped off his clothes.
It was reckless. It was stupid. It was completely ill-advised.
But it was also: Best. Sex. Of. My. Life.
And, as it turned out, the best decision I'd ever made.
Because my one-night stand isn't just some random guy. He's richer than Rhys, more powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be playing with.
And now, he's not letting me go. The Unwanted Wife Walks Away Free
Dong Lier For fourteen years, Faith was the perfect Jarvis trophy wife. Plucked from her parents' funeral at seventeen, she was molded into an obedient, quiet accessory for Branson's billionaire empire.
But while she managed his charities and smiled at galas until her face ached, he was busy humiliating her. She found another woman's gold bracelet in his desk, and today, his affair with a 23-year-old actress was broadcast on a massive electronic billboard right above his own Wall Street headquarters.
For years, Faith had endured his coldness. He stopped touching her after the second miscarriage. He left her alone to cry in the back of his chauffeured cars at 3 AM. He thought her silence meant she was too weak, too poor, and too grateful to ever walk away. He called her a "cheap pet" who couldn't survive without his credit cards and mansions.
He truly believed she needed someone else to want her before she could leave him. He never understood that wanting herself was enough. Did he really think she spent all those lonely nights just crying in her gilded cage?
He was dead wrong. Faith didn't just pack a cheap duffel bag to run away. She walked right into his seventy-third-floor corner office, slammed down a zero-compensation divorce agreement, and tossed a highly encrypted USB drive onto his desk.
"Sign the papers today, Branson. Or I hand your company's deepest secrets to a short-seller, and we watch your empire burn." Claimed By My Ex-Fiancé's Ruthless Uncle
Haley I was the "perfect" fiancée for Harrison Vincent—regal, silent, and low-maintenance. For two years, I suppressed my career as a forensic accountant to be the "safe" choice that polled well with his family’s shareholders.
But at a high-society gala, I found him in a VIP lounge with a socialite wrapped around him. He told her I was just a "boring art piece display stand" he had to drag around until his trust fund was unlocked.
I didn't scream or make a scene. I mentally filed a "bad debt" report, tossed my emerald engagement ring into a glass of stale champagne, and walked out of his life. That same night, I found myself in a dark jazz club bathroom, using a strip of my velvet dress to stop the bleeding of a mysterious man with a gunshot wound and eyes like grey flint.
The fallout was immediate. Harrison blocked my credit cards, assuming I’d crawl back once I couldn't afford rent. His mother called me a "nobody" while simultaneously begging me to handle the family's medical emergencies because they were too panicked to function. They treated me like a tool they could discard and pick up at will, never realizing I had already moved my things into a cramped Brooklyn apartment.
I couldn't understand why they thought I was still their puppet, or why a black Maybach began following me through the city streets. I had saved a stranger's life and ended a toxic engagement, yet the air around me felt heavier and more dangerous than ever.
The truth came out at the hospital when the most feared man in the city stepped out of the shadows. It was the man from the bathroom—Collis Vincent, the ruthless head of the family. He didn't just humiliate Harrison; he took my hand in front of everyone and made a chilling declaration.
"Harrison is a fool to have let you go, Helena. Your arrangement with him is terminated. From now on, you'll be working with me." Too Late For Regret: My Dying Breath
Breeze Harlow had stage IV lung cancer and only three months left to live. Her only hope was for her billionaire ex, Ezra, to take in their deaf four-year-old daughter.
But Ezra despised her. Five years ago, Harlow's sister Katherine framed her for corporate theft, sending her to a brutal state prison. Ezra believed the lies completely.
To him, little Clementine was just another man's bastard. When Harlow knelt on his floor begging for a DNA test, he looked at her with pure disgust. On the day the results were revealed in front of both their families, Harlow thought the truth would finally save her child.
Instead, Ezra threw the lab report at her. Secretly manipulated by Katherine's wealth, the paper stated Ezra was excluded as the biological father.
"You are a lying, manipulative parasite, and you are done!" Ezra screamed.
Katherine offered her a fake pity check, while Harlow's own father cursed her as a shameless stain on their legacy.
Harlow stared at the forged paper, her world spinning. She couldn't understand how her own family could be so monstrous, or how Ezra could be so blindly cruel to watch his true daughter be thrown into the streets.
The suffocating despair violently ruptured her diseased lungs. A horrific spray of dark blood erupted from her mouth, soaking the fake DNA report and Ezra's crisp white shirt, before she collapsed lifelessly at his feet. 
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