Polly
15 Published Stories
Polly's Books and Stories
The Homeless Man I Saved Was Actually a Billionaire
Modern Debora Finley was once a star prosecutor in the D.A.'s office. Now, she hauled heavy black bags as a city garbage collector.
Three years ago, her fiancé Brandon drove drunk and killed an heiress. To save himself, he framed Debora, letting her take the fall while he climbed the corporate ladder.
When Debora screamed her innocence from behind the prison glass, Brandon didn't just silence her.
"You ruined everything!"
He pinned her wrist to the metal counter and brought his expensive shoe down hard, shattering the very hand she used to fight for justice.
After three years of hell, she was finally released, only to be entirely discarded by her own flesh and blood.
Her father slapped her and kicked her out into the cold night, while her sister lured her to a hotel penthouse, locking her inside with a predatory director as a trade for an investment.
"Looks like you need to be taught a lesson."
Pinned to the sofa with whiskey being forced down her throat, Debora felt the icy grip of absolute despair.
She didn't understand why her pursuit of justice was rewarded with a ruined hand, a prison cell, and the utter betrayal of everyone she ever loved.
Just as her vision began to blur, a deafening crash echoed through the room.
The heavy suite door was ripped entirely off its hinges.
Standing in the doorway was the silent, homeless man she had taken in off the streets just days ago.
The man who was secretly Gideon Camacho, the ruthless billionaire titan of Wall Street—and the fiancé of the woman Debora was framed for killing.
And right now, his eyes were burning with a promise of murder. The Price of His Contract
Romance Eleanor Baldwin sold her body and her future to the most ruthless billionaire in New York, Sebastian Vanderbilt.
She didn't do it for love, but to destroy the Sterling family, who had driven her father to his death. She signed a brutal non-disclosure agreement, becoming Sebastian's around-the-clock personal assistant and his exclusive, tightly controlled property.
Her new life was a nightmare of humiliation. She endured scalding coffee thrown by his jealous relatives, worked herself into physical collapse, and suffered severe panic attacks in the dark. Yet, Sebastian only treated her like a possession. When her ex-boyfriend Craig Sterling—the very man who ruined her family—cornered her on the street begging her to use Sebastian's wealth to save his bankrupt company, Sebastian misunderstood everything. Assuming she was just a gold digger, he threw a seven-figure check at her face.
"Is this enough to buy off your past?" he sneered.
Eleanor was suffocating. She had sacrificed her dignity and endured his cold possessiveness just to avenge her parents. But to him, her deep trauma and desperate struggle were nothing more than a cheap transaction. She didn't want his charity; she wanted justice.
Dropping Craig's antique ring down a city sewer grate, Eleanor turned her back on her abusers forever. But as she tried to walk away, Sebastian forced an unlimited black card into her trembling hand, permanently sealing the doors to her gilded cage. The Alpha's Regret: His Defiant Mate
Werewolf The Moon Goddess sent me a vision. A warning so vivid it felt lived, every detail seared into my soul like a brand.
In that vision, I thought I was the luckiest wolf when the powerful Alpha Xander was revealed as my fated mate. But my fragile, sweet-scented Omega sister, Celestine, used her innocent tears to climb right into his bed. She used my protection as a shield to steal my mate, while my parents turned a blind eye, praising her for securing our family's political alliance.
When I finally protested, Xander threw me into a freezing stone dungeon.
No one came to save me.
I lay on the damp floor, the agony of a torn mate bond bleeding my life force away until I died alone in the dark.
When I woke from the dream, gasping and drenched in cold sweat, the damp dungeon was gone, replaced by the soft velvet of the manor's grand hall. The Mating Ceremony was about to begin—the very night the vision had shown me.
Alpha Xander stepped through the grand archway, his oppressive aura demanding my submission.
But the Moon Goddess had shown me where submission led. This time, I stood tall, looked him dead in the eye, and spoke the ultimate taboo.
"I, Seraphina, do reject you, Alpha Xander. You are not my mate." My Son's Death, His Cruel Betrayal
Modern For seven years, I gave up my life as a genius engineer to be the perfect wife for my husband, Jonathan, a U.S. Senator. But when our five-year-old son drowned, he didn't comfort me. He comforted his adopted sister, Hailey, and blamed me for our son's death.
At the wake, he stood by as his family beat me, calling me a murderer. He watched them shove my head into a freezing pond, forcing me to feel the same terror our son felt in his last moments.
His protection was always for Hailey, never for me.
Then I learned the horrifying truth. Jonathan was there when our son fell in the water. He saw him struggling, but he chose to comfort a panicking Hailey first.
He let our son die.
So I filed for divorce in secret and vanished into a classified research project. But when he tracked me down, begging for a second chance in front of his new colleagues, I played a recording for everyone to hear. It was Hailey's voice, gleefully admitting that Jonathan had chosen her over his own dying child. The Billionaire's Dare: My Secret Husband
Modern I was the "little bird" of the Carlson empire, living a comfortable but caged life under the thumb of my guardian, Francis. To the world, Christ Carlson was the cold, untouchable machine who ran the family business, a man I called "Uncle" but who treated me like a ghost in the hallway.
One drunken night in Las Vegas, desperate to finally "poke the bear" and feel alive, I leaned into his shadows and whispered a dare that would ruin me. I asked the most terrifying man I knew if he dared to marry me right then and there.
He didn't laugh. He stood up, dragged me to a tacky chapel, and forced a massive diamond onto my finger with a grip like iron. The "asexual" machine everyone feared turned into a predator the moment we reached his penthouse, claiming me with a bruising intensity that left me breathless and broken.
By morning, I was trapped in a living nightmare. Christ forced me to hide the marriage, demanding I play the part of the dutiful niece while he owned me in the shadows. He replaced my ripped clothes with thousands of dollars in designer silk, essentially buying my silence and my body in one cold transaction.
Now, I’m back at the family estate, hiding a five-carat ring on a chain under my shirt and praying Francis doesn't see the marks on my neck. I thought I was being rebellious, but I didn't realize Christ Carlson had been waiting for me to walk into his trap for years.
I am legally his, physically his, and he has no intention of ever letting me go. Every time he looks at me, I feel the cage door slamming shut, realizing I’ve traded a guardian who ignores me for a husband who wants to dismantle me piece by piece.
At breakfast, Christ pressed his shoe firmly against my inner thigh under the table, his gaze locked on mine while he discussed my future with Francis.
"I think it's time we found her a match," Christ said, his voice a lethal, calm purr.
"I was thinking of keeping her in the family." Six Years Trapped In A Broken Vow
Modern Aliyah Pollard POV:
For six years, my husband, Chase, refused to divorce me, gaslighting me while he built a new family with his mistress, Faye. After 99 failed attempts, I was ready for my 100th try.
But the man I met in the park wasn't my cold, cheating husband. It was Chase from ten years ago-eighteen, idealistic, and still madly in love with me.
He didn't understand why I looked so sad, why I flinched from his touch. He didn't know about the affair, the miscarriage Faye caused, or the child they now had together.
He saw the divorce papers and his world shattered. "I would never hurt you, Aliyah," he cried, his young eyes filled with genuine anguish. "I love you."
His pain was a stark contrast to the cruelty of the man he would become. The older Chase had sneered, "You're mine, Aliyah. Who would want you?"
But this boy, this pure version of my husband, saw my suffering and didn't hesitate.
He took the pen, his hand shaking, and signed the papers his future self had refused for years. "If this is what you need," he whispered, "I'll do it." The Heiress My Husband Cast Away
Mafia My little brother’s heart monitor was screaming its final warning. I called my husband, Dante Volkov, the ruthless underworld king whose life I’d saved years ago. He had promised to send his elite medical team.
“I’m handling an emergency,” he snapped, then hung up. An hour later, my brother was dead.
I found out what Dante’s “emergency” was from his mistress’s social media. He had sent his team of world-class surgeons to deliver her cat’s kittens. My brother died for a litter of cats.
When Dante finally called, he didn't even apologize. I could hear her voice in the background, asking him to come back to bed. He even forgot my brother was dead, offering to buy him a new toy to replace the one his mistress deliberately crushed.
This was the man who had promised to protect me, to make my high school tormentors pay. Now, he was holding that very tormentor, Seraphina, in his arms. Then came the final blow: a call from the clerk's office revealed our seven-year marriage was a sham. The certificate was a forgery.
I was never his wife. I was just a possession he was tired of. After he left me to die in a car crash for Seraphina, I made one call. I texted a rival mob heir I hadn't spoken to in years: "I need to disappear. I'm calling it in." When Gratitude Turns Bitter
Modern "I'm sure about this. I want to volunteer." Ava Williams looked the program director in the eye, her voice steady, determined to commit two years in a conflict zone. Inside, her heart was a mess, but she had to do this.
Then, a fire truck screamed past, its siren wailing, and suddenly, she was a child again, trapped in a burning home. Her parents were gone, but a young man, Liam, scooped her into his arms, whispering, "It's okay. I've got you. I'll always have you." That promise became the foundation of her world.
She grew up, and her gratitude for Liam, her legal guardian, transformed into love. On her eighteenth birthday, she confessed, "I love you. Not like a sister." He froze, his expression cold. "I am your brother. Your guardian. Don't ever say that again." After that night, a wall went up between them.
She didn't give up. Every time she came home, she would tell him again, "I still love you, Liam." And every time, without hesitation, he would shut her down. "Ava, stop. It's never going to happen." His rejection was a constant, painful beat in the rhythm of her life.
Then he brought Sophia Miller home. "She's my fiancée," he announced. The word hit Ava with the force of a physical impact. She watched them together, saw the open affection he had never given her. That night, she listened to sounds of intimacy from his bedroom, a thousand tiny cuts on her soul.
Why was the man who saved her, who promised to always have her, now rejecting her, denying her love, and choosing someone else? How could the gratitude and dependence she carried for him turn into such a bitter and painful burden?
An eerie calm settled over her. The hope she had clung to for so long was finally, completely dead. She had to leave. D.C. Descent: A Family's Fight
Sci-fi For five years, deep space was my home, and the silent, humming dark was my constant companion as Captain of the U.S. Space Force vessel Odyssey. But the silence from Earth was a different kind of burden.
My mother, Senator Annabel Clark, was a force of nature, her weekly messages a lifeline of D.C. gossip and advice, often spiced with my sister Stella' s chaotic teenage energy. Then, they just stopped. My father's sterile updates mumbled about "chronic illness" and "privacy," but it felt horribly wrong.
So, I used my Captain's clearance – a privilege rarely abused – to redirect a surveillance satellite toward our family estate in Washington D.C., looking not for signs of illness, but for signs of life.
The feed came through, crisp and clear, showing sprawling lawns lit up, tents erected, an orchestra playing. It was a huge party. My blood ran cold.
I zoomed in. There, on the main veranda, stood my father, Matthew Roberts, beaming. Beside him, my breath hitched: Sabrina Johns, his high school flame. And between them, a girl in a lavish white gown. Molly, Sabrina' s daughter. They were holding a debutante ball.
This was a flagrant, public declaration. A coup. They were celebrating in my mother's house while she and Stella were silent. A burning thought ignited, consuming every ounce of anticipation the trip home should have held: They were in my mother' s house. I stormed to the comms station, unleashing a command that would send a silver needle back to the heart of the world I'd left behind. My family couldn't wait. Reborn To Ruin Her: The Billionaire's Accidental Heiress
Romance The last time I saw my sister, Tiffany, she shoved me in front of a semi-truck. Now, I' m back, reborn, watching her try to drug the ruthless Vegas magnate, Damian Blackwood. This time, I didn't stop her. I even helped, booking the penthouse, just so I could finally watch her crash and burn.
But when Damian' s men seized me, not Tiffany, my meticulously crafted revenge plot shattered. He thought I was her, Mistook my unique birthmark for hers, and exacted a terrifying "punishment" that left me pregnant. I was desperate to escape Tiffany's disaster, only to realize I was now trapped in my own.
As Tiffany' s delusional claims of marriage and a fake pregnancy spiraled into a lawsuit from Blackwood, I discovered my own terrifying secret. Moments after realizing I was truly pregnant and my life was ruined, Damian' s chief of staff approached me not as an accomplice, but with a question. Then, a revelation: my birthmark was the key to my true identity. I wasn't Chloe, the family failure, but Chloe Van Astor-the long-lost heiress of a rival dynasty, betrothed to Damian from birth.
My tormenting "parents" and Tiffany were arrested for kidnapping and fraud, their cruel charade exposed. Damian, the man who nearly destroyed me, emerged as my destined partner. Now, he' s sealed off the Las Vegas Strip, making a public spectacle of his proposal, ready to claim me and our unborn child. My past is over. My real life, as Mrs. Blackwood, begins now. A Billionaire's Calculated Revenge
Billionaires I was back, standing at my own opulent wedding reception in the Hamptons, surrounded by the clinking of champagne glasses and whispers of the wealthy.
Just moments before, I' d been bleeding out on wet asphalt, the last sound I heard my wife Chloe and her lover Carter laughing, discussing my ten-million-dollar life insurance policy.
They' d mocked me as "a broke kid from Queens, a scholarship project," after I'd given them my talent, my loyalty, my very life.
Now, reborn at this fateful moment, Chloe stood before me, her hand still stinging my cheek from a vicious, public slap, her face a mask of fury.
The humiliation continued as my groundbreaking M&A project was publicly handed to Carter, his smug grin twisting my past all over again.
Then, Chloe offered me a "health" smoothie, a seemingly kind gesture I now knew was a slow, mind-numbing poison designed to make me believe I was losing my sanity.
The sheer depravity of their long-term scheme, making me doubt my own competence and worth, solidified into a frigid rage.
How could I have been so blind, so trusting, to the depths of their calculated cruelty and endless betrayal?
But this time, my heart wasn't beating with love or fear; it thrummed with a cold, steady drumbeat of resolve.
They gave me a coffin in my first life.
In this one, I would build them a trap so perfect, they wouldn't see it until the doors locked behind them. The Fortune of Betrayal
Billionaires The annual "Vintage Harvest Charity Ball" was meant to be a crowning jewel for the Miller family, a night of proud philanthropy and confirmed alliances.
Instead, it became the stage for my public execution.
My fiancée, Victoria Lexington, snatched the microphone, her smile frozen, her eyes devoid of warmth.
In front of a stunned ballroom of California' s elite, she declared she' d found "authentic love" with a bronzed fitness influencer, Chase Ryder, publicly dumping me and shattering decades of Miller family honor.
My blood ran cold as whispers turned to a roaring judgment, humiliation searing into every fiber of my being.
Headlines screamed "LEXINGTON HEIRESS DUMPS MILLER SCION AT FAMILY GALA!" and the weight of public spectacle, coupled with the profound sting of personal betrayal, was suffocating.
Then, in a truly grotesque twist, Tori's father, desperate to salvage his crumbling business ties, offered me his other daughters-like spare parts for a broken deal, adding insult to profound injury.
How could someone so casually burn everything down, yet brazenly provoke us further, twisting reality to paint themselves as the wronged party?
Their continued taunts, their unapologetic audacity, only fueled the fire, transforming my heartbreak into a simmering, ice-cold rage.
The public seemed to side with their "authentic love" narrative, leaving me alone in the fallout.
But my grandfather, Arthur Miller, spoke of "pruning diseased branches" and protecting the vineyard, transforming a public humiliation into a cold, dangerous promise.
This wasn't just about a broken engagement.
It was a calculated declaration of war against the Millers, and I was about to unleash the quiet, ruthless power of my family' s way.
Now, it was my turn to redefine the terms of engagement and cultivate a future on my own terms. Their Downfall, My Design
Young Adult I was heading into senior year, my ROTC scholarship practically a guarantee, my future stretching out bright and limitless.
Then, my childhood friend and first love, Mike, fueled by jealousy and his new girlfriend Jessica' s petty spite, drugged my drink.
It was right before my crucial ROTC physical, and I failed, watching my dreams and entire future evaporate.
My life spiraled into dead-end jobs, a miserable existence far from what I' d planned.
Years later, at a party, Jessica, still simmering with a twisted hatred, set her friends on me.
I remembered the rough hands, the tearing, the cold, hard floor against my cheek as their cruel laughter filled the air.
They stripped away everything, then they killed me.
The searing pain, the utter betrayal, the image of their faces twisting with delight as I lay dying - it was an agonizing, incomprehensible end.
Why? How could they commit such an unspeakable act, then simply walk away?
But then, I woke up, gasping, in my own bed, three years in the past, my body miraculously whole and untouched.
Reborn.
A terrifying realization struck me with the force of a physical blow: what if they were back too?
At the first school assembly, Mike' s arrogant smirk and Jessica' s cold, knowing eyes confirmed my worst fears.
They remembered.
But this time, I wouldn't just survive; I would ensure they paid for every last bit of what they did.
The game was on, and this time, I was ready to win. The Neglected Wife's Maine Escape
Romance My world shattered when the call came: my beloved father was gone.
But even as grief consumed me, my husband, Mark, dealt a cruel blow.
He skipped the funeral, prioritizing his "friend" Tiffany-a woman whose endless dramas always seemed to come first.
Returning home from Maine, heartbroken and exhausted, he casually asked me to cook chicken soup for Tiffany because she was "not feeling well."
That was the moment I realized I wasn't just a wife or a grieving daughter; I was merely his live-in chef for another woman.
Then, Tiffany began to appear everywhere.
She took over my desk at my old job, openly supported by Mark, who claimed I wasn't "using it much anyway."
She even clung to him at my own farewell party, while Mark made endless excuses for her sensitive needs.
The casual contempt in Mark's eyes, his constant choice of her over my profound pain, was the final, cold confirmation: I was utterly discarded, an inconvenience in my own life.
How could he be so blind?
So utterly consumed by someone else's petty crises while my entire world fell apart?
Why did he never see the depth of my despair, or the silent resolve hardening within me?
But their casual cruelty became my catalyst.
That night, instead of mourning what was lost, I meticulously planned my escape.
I printed divorce papers, discreetly tucking them beneath some mundane volunteer forms.
The very next day, I had Mark sign them, unknowingly sealing his own fate as he rushed off to Tiffany's latest "emergency."
I left without a word, driving towards Maine, towards my father's dream, and a new life he could no longer ruin. You might like
Flash Marriage to the Tycoon, I'm Spoiled Rotten
Hollow Echo Cast out by an "elite" family and mocked by high society, Elena shocked everyone by marrying the most powerful man in town.
They assumed it was a temporary arrangement-after all, he had said, "The agreement is for two years. After that, we're done."
Yet after the wedding, he refused to let her go. "Elena, you can't leave me."
As he doted on her, rumors shattered one by one. A renowned painter, top hacker, and tech mastermind-her true identities stunned the world.
When a luxury empire announced their lost heiress, all eyes turned to her. "Why did she look exactly like Elena?" Rejected By My Ex, Desired By His Father
Glitch Petal After six years together, Joslyn was abandoned before her wedding when her boyfriend chose his first love over her.
Then came an unexpected proposal-from Connor, her ex-boyfriend's adoptive father. "Marry me. You'll get everything you want-and you can get back at him."
The deal came with its perks: a lavish monthly allowance, abundant resources at her fingertips, a husband who was practically never home, and the sheer pleasure of rubbing her new status in her ex-boyfriend's face.
But the distant husband she expected turned possessive instead.
While her ex begged publicly for another chance, Connor pulled her into his arms. "Say that again, and you'll be out of the family forever."
Only later did Joslyn discover the truth-Connor had spent six years planning to make her his.
Believing it was only a beneficial deal, Joslyn agreed.
Constant traveling? A complete lie. And the promise that they'd each live their own lives? Another carefully spun deception. On their wedding night, he had her pinned beneath him, his kisses stealing her breath. And night after night, he kept coming home-utterly fixated on her. The Unwanted Wife's Genius Comeback
Gertrude I flew cross-country for my birthday, hoping for just one night of warmth with my husband and five-year-old daughter.
But when I opened the door, I found my famous hockey star husband and my daughter acting like the perfect family with Dayna, a glamorous sports commentator.
My daughter shrank away from my open arms.
"Mama's boring. She never plays with me. Don't go, Auntie Dayna!"
My husband didn't even look up from his phone to wish me a happy birthday.
He coldly canceled our dinner plans, claiming he had an urgent, last-minute strategy meeting for his team.
Hours later, a TMZ article popped up on my phone, featuring a brutal photo of the three of them sharing a steak at an upscale Manhattan restaurant.
The headline praised Blake's "family dinner with rumored flame Dayna Nixon" and openly wondered where the current Mrs. Carlisle was.
My daughter lied for this, and my husband publicly humiliated me, treating my five years of silent sacrifice like a pathetic, disposable joke.
I didn't cry, and I didn't throw a desperate fit.
Instead, I calmly walked into his study, signed the pre-nuptial divorce agreement he had prepared years ago, and booked a one-way ticket back to Boston.
From now on, I am no longer Mrs. Carlisle. I am Corinne Sargent, and I am taking my life back. The Jilted Ex-Wife Is A Zillionaire
Felix Turner Isabel returned to her penthouse after a grueling seventeen-hour flight, only to be greeted by the cloying scent of another woman's perfume.
Her husband of three years, Darius, sat waiting with divorce papers. He wanted to marry his mistress, Dove, and offered Isabel a measly one million dollars, treating her like a greedy charity case from the Rust Belt who should just take the payout and vanish.
But Isabel didn't want his pity. She demanded the four percent equity stake in his family's company that she rightfully owned—a stake worth 1.5 billion dollars. When she revealed this, the wealthy family turned vicious. They refused to acknowledge that she had secretly saved their empire from bankruptcy years ago. Instead, Darius and Dove orchestrated a brutal public execution. They ambushed her at a top law firm, spreading malicious lies that her investment money was stolen from a Ponzi scheme. They even hired a fake victim to scream at her in the lobby, successfully terrifying Isabel's lawyer into dropping her case on the spot.
She had quietly rescued their entire legacy, yet they were willing to frame her as a criminal and destroy her life just to keep her rightful billions.
As Darius and his mistress gloated over her absolute ruin, the most ruthless and feared lawyer in New York suddenly stepped in front of Isabel, his voice cutting through the dead silence.
"Your case, I'll take it." The Unwanted Wife Is A Zillionaire
Reilly Mcardle For seven years, I played the perfect, hidden wife to billionaire August Chambers while working quietly as an ER nurse.
Three days before our marriage contract expired, he stormed into my emergency room carrying a bleeding woman. It was Allena, his cousin's fiancée.
She had suffered a ruptured corpus luteum from their violent, aggressive sex. Instead of hiding his affair, August ordered me to clear the floor and threw a massive check at my face to buy my silence. Later, his friends trapped me in a VIP club. When a waiter tripped, August violently shoved me aside just to protect Allena from a spilled cup of coffee. I crashed into a glass table, a sharp edge slicing deep into my arm.
"Apologize to her, and I'll have my driver take you to the hospital."
As my blood soaked into the white rug, he stood over me, demanding I get on my knees for his mistress. He didn't know I had faked a miscarriage five years ago to secretly raise our daughter far away from his cruelty. He also didn't know the money he flaunted was pocket change compared to my hidden AI tech empire.
I calmly tied a tourniquet around my bleeding arm with my teeth and wiped my blood directly over his heart onto his custom suit.
"I'm done with you."
The submissive nurse was dead, and it was time to let him burn in the ruins of his own lies. Married To My Ex-Fiancé's Silent Uncle
Ming Yue Twenty minutes before the "Wedding of the Century" at The Plaza, I stood outside the Presidential Suite in a fifty-thousand-dollar Vera Wang gown. I was the girl from a West Virginia trailer park about to marry Hugh Maxwell, the golden heir to a billion-dollar defense empire.
I pushed the door open only to find Hugh pinned against the bed with my own stepsister, Floy. She was wearing my bridal diamond necklace, and the sounds of their laughter scraped against my eardrums like sandpaper.
I didn't scream; I listened as Hugh grunted that once the wedding was over and the trust fund unlocked, he'd dump "that hillbilly trash" on a bus back to the mountains. They weren't just cheating; they were planning to steal my family's land deeds and leave me with nothing. When I set off the sprinklers and exposed their naked bodies to the paparazzi, the Maxwell family didn't apologize. They called me a "greedy peasant" and threatened to ruin my life unless I signed a new deal to save their crashing stock.
I realized then that I was never a bride to them. I was a transaction, a rounding error in a ledger to be used and discarded. They thought my poverty made me weak and my silence made me a victim.
"If we don't have a marriage certificate by midnight, the bank freezes thirty percent of our liquidity," their lawyer warned.
So, I gave them exactly what they wanted. I used a loophole in their hundred-year-old family covenant and married the only other direct heir available. I didn't marry Hugh. I walked into the ICU and married his uncle, Fleet Maxwell-the legendary war hero who had been in a vegetative state for months.
Now, I am the matriarch of the Maxwell dynasty. I've suspended Hugh's executive powers, exiled my mother-in-law to the Swiss Alps, and taken control of the family vault. They think I'm just a gold-digger waiting for a "corpse" to die so I can collect a fifty-million-dollar widow's payout.
But last night, as I lay beside my comatose husband, the man they called a vegetable gripped my hand back. Jilted Heiress: Marrying The Untouchable Tycoon
Piao Guo Allison Montgomery was waiting at the airport when an audio alert from her parked Range Rover flashed on her phone.
Assuming it was a break-in, she checked the live dashcam feed, only to see her fiancé, Finn, and her younger sister, Cheyanne, passionately making out in the backseat.
"Tell me I'm better than her," Cheyanne whispered. "Tell me I'm better than Allison."
"You are," Finn gasped. "God, you are."
When Allison confronted her family with the video, she expected justice.
Instead, her uncle and mother fiercely defended the cheaters.
They blamed Allison's "cold and frigid" nature for pushing Finn away, victim-blaming her in front of the entire household staff.
To protect their corporate alliance, her uncle ruthlessly announced that the engagement would be transferred to Cheyanne, and threatened to strip Allison of her inheritance.
Stripped of her fiancé, her family, and her dignity, Allison realized her pristine twenty-year life was a complete lie.
The people who were supposed to love her were actively protecting her abusers, leaving her utterly isolated and burning with a cold, protective rage.
Refusing to be their victim, Allison targeted Finn's ruthless, billionaire uncle, Adam Kensington, proposing a fake marriage to secure the capital needed to crush her family.
But when the notoriously untouchable Wall Street phantom not only accepted her proposal, but demanded she immediately move into his penthouse to raise his secret daughter, Allison realized she had just sold her soul to the devil. 
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