The CEO's Enigmatic Bride

The CEO's Enigmatic Bride

Robert Davids

5.0
Comment(s)
View
18
Chapters

Leah Martin is desperate. Her late father's beloved art gallery is on the brink of collapse, and with mounting debts, she's running out of options. When Adrian Cole, a powerful yet emotionally detached billionaire, proposes a one-year marriage contract to salvage his public image in exchange for saving her gallery, Leah has no choice but to agree. Adrian needs stability to secure his company's future, and Leah is the perfect candidate-uncomplicated, independent, and with nothing to lose. Their arrangement is purely transactional: staged appearances, public affection, and strict rules to keep emotions out of the equation. But stepping into Adrian's world is more overwhelming than Leah expected. The media scrutinizes her every move, branding her a gold-digger, and Veronica Hale, Adrian's cunning ex-lover, is determined to ruin their arrangement. Yet, the biggest threat is the unexpected connection forming between Leah and Adrian. As she glimpses the man beneath the controlled exterior, she begins to question everything. When Veronica's schemes escalate and Adrian's carefully guarded secrets surface, Leah realizes she's fallen for the one man who can never truly be hers. With their contract nearing its end, they must make a choice-continue living a lie or risk their hearts for something real. A gripping billionaire romance filled with passion, power struggles, and redemption, The CEO's Enigmatic Bride is a tale of love found in the most unexpected places.

Chapter 1 Leah and Adrian

Leah Martin stood in the center of the gallery her father had built from scratch, the weight of her family's legacy pressing down on her shoulders like a suffocating blanket. The once-vibrant space was no eerily quiet, the soft hum of the air conditioning the only sound as sunlight filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Rows of paintings hung on the walls, masterpieces from both renowned and emerging artists. Yet no one was there to admire them.

Her fingers tightened around the ledger she clutched; the numbers scrawled across the page, mocking her with their cold finality. She had tried everything-promotions, partnerships, even hosting art workshops to draw in more customers-but the debts kept piling up. Banks were calling, collectors were pulling out, and the staff she'd once considered family had started handing in their resignations.

Her father's dream, the gallery he had poured his soul into, was slipping through her fingers.

Leah dropped the ledger on the reception desk and pressed her palms against it cool surface, trying to steady her breathing. She couldn't afford to lose her composure. Not now. Not when everything depended on her.

The sham ring of her phone broke through her thoughts. She hesitated before answering, knowing it would be likely be another creditor demanding payment.

This Leah, "she said her voice steadier than she felt.

"Miss Martin, this is Jeffery from First National bank. We need to discuss the overdue payments on the gallery's loan. If you can't make the next installment, we'll have no choice but to-"

Leah ended the call before he could finish. She knew what they would do: seize the gallery, liquidate the assets, and erase her father's legacy from the world.

She refused to let that happen.

Across town, in the top floor of a gleaming skyscraper, Adrian Cole was experiencing a very different kind of pressure.

The boardroom was filled with tension, the kind that seemed to seep into the very air and cling to everyone present. Adrian sat at the head of the table, his expression calm and unreadable as he twelve board members stared back at him, waiting for his response.

"This company's image is on the line," one of the older members said, his voice sharp. "Your personal life has been making headlines for months, and it's starting to affect investors' confidence."

Adrian's jaw tightened, though he kept his gaze steady. He knew what they were talking about-his messy breakup with veronica Hale, a socialite-turned-businesswoman with a penchant for drama. The tabloids had painted him as a heartless billionaire, using salacious headlines to sell their stories.

"I've already released a statement addressing these rumors," Adrian said, his voice measured.

"It's not enough, "another board member chimed in , her tone impatient. "we need something that shows stability, something that assures our investors you're focused on the company, not your personal escapades."

Adrian leaned back in his chair, his mind working through possible solutions. He had spent years building Cole Enterprises into a powerhouse, a company that sets trends in real estate, technology, and the art world. But the higher he climbed, the more people seemed eager to tear him down.

"Stability," he repeated, almost to himself. The word felt foreign, like something out of reach.

"Exactly," the older board member said. "you need to take steps to fix your public image, Adrian. Otherwise, we'll start seeing the consequences on our stock prices."

Adrian nodded, though his mind was already elsewhere. He wasn't one to let others dictate his life, but he couldn't ignore the stakes. His company as his life's work, and he wouldn't let anyone-or anything jeopardize it.

Back at the gallery, Leah was lost in thought as she walked through the exhibition hall. Her father had always believed in the power of at to connect people, to inspire, and heal. She could still hear his voice in her mind, encouraging her to take risks, to follow her passion.

But passion wasn't enough to pay the bills.

She stopped in front of a painting she'd always loved, a vibrant piece filled with swirling colors that seemed to dance across the canvas. It had been her father's favorite too, a reminder of the joy and creativity that had driven him.

As she stared at the painting, an idea began to form in her mind. She had heard whispers about Adrian Cole, the billionaire CEO who had recently made waves in the art world by acquiring rare pieces for his private collection. If anyone had the resources to help her, it was him.

It was a long shot, and the thought of approaching someone like Adrian was daunting. But Leah didn't have the luxury of fear.

Later that evening, Adrian stood in his penthouse, staring out at the city lights that stretched endlessly before him. The world saw him as a man who had everything-wealth, power, influence-but they didn't see the sacrifices he'd made to get there.

He ran a hand through his dark hair, his mind replaying the board meeting. Stability. That's what they wanted. A perfect way to quiet the critics and reassure investors.

As he poured himself a glass of whiskey, his phone buzzed on the table. It was Ethan, his younger brother.

"What is it, Ethan?" Adrian asked his tone sharper than intended.

"Relax, Adrian ," Ethan replied with a chuckle. "I just thought you'd want to know about the art gala next week. It's being hosted by the Martin family-apparently; they're struggling to keep their gallery afloat. Might be worth your time."

Adrian didn't respond immediately, his mind turning over the information. The Martins had once been prominent in the art world, their gallery a hub for creativity and innovation. If they were hosting a gala, it was likely a last ditch efforts to stay afloat.

"Send me the details," Adrian said finally, his voice calm and decisive.

"Will do," Ethan replied. "Just don't scare anyone off with that death glare of yours."

Adrian ended the call, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He didn't have time for frivolous events, but something about the situation intrigued him.

Perhaps the gala would offer more than just a chance to acquire art-it might provide an opportunity to solve two problems at once.

As he stared out at the city, the faint hum of an idea began to take shape.

Continue Reading

Other books by Robert Davids

More

You'll also like

Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles

Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles

Dorine Koestler
4.5

I watched my husband sign the papers that would end our marriage while he was busy texting the woman he actually loved. He didn't even glance at the header. He just scribbled the sharp, jagged signature that had signed death warrants for half of New York, tossed the file onto the passenger seat, and tapped his screen again. "Done," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. That was Dante Moretti. The Underboss. A man who could smell a lie from a mile away but couldn't see that his wife had just handed him an annulment decree disguised beneath a stack of mundane logistics reports. For three years, I scrubbed his blood out of his shirts. I saved his family's alliance when his ex, Sofia, ran off with a civilian. In return, he treated me like furniture. He left me in the rain to save Sofia from a broken nail. He left me alone on my birthday to drink champagne on a yacht with her. He even handed me a glass of whiskey—her favorite drink—forgetting that I despised the taste. I was merely a placeholder. A ghost in my own home. So, I stopped waiting. I burned our wedding portrait in the fireplace, left my platinum ring in the ashes, and boarded a one-way flight to San Francisco. I thought I was finally free. I thought I had escaped the cage. But I underestimated Dante. When he finally opened that file weeks later and realized he had signed away his wife without looking, the Reaper didn't accept defeat. He burned down the world to find me, obsessed with reclaiming the woman he had already thrown away.

He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him

He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him

SHANA GRAY
5.0

The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her. Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. "Mr. Kensington," the nurse's voice cracked, "your wife... she's critical." A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. "Liam is in the shower," Seraphina's voice purred. "Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low." Then, Liam's bored voice: "If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning." Click. The line went dead. A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living. Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body. Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back.

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book