THE CEO's UNSCRIPTED WIFE

THE CEO's UNSCRIPTED WIFE

Zuriella Amar

5.0
Comment(s)
106
View
15
Chapters

Desperate to escape a degrading, forced marriage arranged by her greedy father, Zuri hatches a plan to fake a scandal. But her escape takes a disastrous wrong turn, leading her directly into the luxurious bed of Ethan Thorne, the city's youngest and most enigmatic CEO. Their accidental encounter sparks a high-stakes marriage of convenience, challenging Zuri's resilience, unveiling dark secrets, and igniting an impossible love.

THE CEO's UNSCRIPTED WIFE Chapter 1 The Price Of Grief

The scent of stale potpourri and betrayal clung to the air, thicker than the dust motes dancing in the slivers of sunlight that pierced the drawn curtains. Zuri had only been back in her father's house for three days since scattering her mother's ashes over the churning Atlantic, and already, grief felt like a luxury she couldn't afford. It was an unwelcome guest, pushed aside by a far more insidious presence. She paused at the landing, the polished wood cool beneath her bare feet, listening.

The low murmur of voices drifted up from her father's study – his booming laugh, unsettlingly jovial, interspersed with a woman's syrupy tones and a younger, simpering giggle. Auntie Sade, her father's long-term "friend," had moved in the day Zuri left for the funeral. And with her, came Tola, Sade's daughter, a girl whose eyes always seemed to assess, to weigh. A sliver of curiosity, sharp and cold, cut through Zuri's numbness. Her father rarely entertained in his study, a room usually reserved for his solitary, weighty pronouncements. She crept closer, pressing an ear to the heavy mahogany door, the distant hum of Port Harcourt a dull counterpoint to the rising knot of dread in her stomach. "...a done deal, Solomon," Sade purred, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "Mr. Smith is very eager. Especially with Zuri back in town." Zuri's breath hitched. Mr. Smith. The name alone conjured images of sweaty palms and a lecherous gaze, a man whose wealth was as ill-gotten as his reputation was foul. He was one of her father's oldest, most disreputable business associates, known for his insatiable appetites and his collection of young, beautiful wives who inevitably faded from public view. "She's ripe for the picking," Tola added, her giggle sounding unnervingly like a hyena's cackle. "And with her mother gone, she has no one." A sickening wave washed over Zuri. No one. The truth of it, delivered with such callous glee, was a fresh wound. Her mother, her protector, her confidante, was truly gone. And in her place, this... this conspiracy. "Nonsense!" her father boomed, but there was a tremor of greed in his voice that belied his protest. "She'll be well-provided for. And think of the connections, Sade! The deal we can make with Smith once she's his wife... it's a goldmine!" A goldmine. Zuri gripped the doorknob, her knuckles white. Her father, the man who had always prided himself on his "business acumen," was selling her. His own daughter. Not for love, not for security, but for connections and a deal. He was trading her like a commodity, a piece of property to be bartered for fame and fortune. Rage, pure and incandescent, ignited in her gut, burning away the last vestiges of her grief-induced stupor. She wouldn't be bought. She wouldn't be sold. She wouldn't become another one of Mr. Smith's vanished wives. The idea hit her with the force of a physical blow, shocking in its audacity, yet strangely liberating. Her father had always paraded her as his pristine, untouched daughter, a virgin prize to be bartered at the peak of her market value. He bragged about her purity to his colleagues, a perverse point of pride. What if that purity, that unblemished state, was the very thing she destroyed? What if she became the ultimate scandal? A pregnancy. The thought was terrifying, reckless, dangerous. It was a gamble with her entire future, a plunge into an unknown abyss. But the alternative – a lifetime as Mr. Smith's chattel – was a fate far worse than any scandal. This was her only weapon, a desperate act of sabotage against the very foundation of her father's plans. If she wasn't "pure," she was worthless to him in this monstrous transaction. Her mind raced, bypassing the horror to land on the practicalities. She needed a man. Not just any man, but someone she could approach discreetly, someone who wouldn't involve her father, someone who wouldn't try to claim her after. A stranger. A fleeting encounter. She backed away from the study door, her heart thumping a frantic rhythm against her ribs. Her room. She needed to think, to plan. But as she retreated, she heard Sade's voice again, sharp with instruction. "Tonight. The Thorne Gala. Mr. Smith will be there. Make sure she's presentable." The Thorne Gala. The city's most exclusive, high-profile event, hosted by the elusive Ethan Thorne, the youngest and most enigmatic CEO in Port Harcourt. Her father, always eager to rub shoulders with the city's elite, had somehow secured invitations. It was the perfect storm. The place where her father intended to finalize her sale. And the place where she would detonate her escape. Zuri glanced down at the simple, dark dress she still wore from the funeral, feeling utterly out of place. This wasn't a dress for a socialite, let alone a woman about to throw her life into chaos. She needed to look the part of a woman who belonged at such an event, yet was desperate enough to shatter every societal expectation. She needed to be invisible enough to execute her plan, yet captivating enough to find her target. Her fingers trembled as she pulled out her phone, searching for the gala's details, her gaze fixed on the digital image of the opulent venue. Tonight. It had to be tonight. Her freedom depended on it. And with grim determination, a resolve colder than any grief, Zuri began to plot her disastrous wrong turn.

Continue Reading

You'll also like

No Longer Mrs. Cooley: The Architect's Return

No Longer Mrs. Cooley: The Architect's Return

Xiao Xiaosu
4.5

I went to the City Clerk’s office for a routine copy of my marriage license to finalize a trust fund audit. I expected a simple piece of paper, but the clerk’s pitying look told me my entire life was a lie. "The license was never finalized, Ms. Oliver. In the eyes of the state, you are single." The three-hundred-guest wedding at the Plaza and the Vogue features meant nothing. My husband, Gray Cooley, had intentionally filed the documents with a "procedural defect" so he could discard me without a legal divorce. Moments later, an iCloud invite titled "Our Little Secret" popped up on my screen. It was a photo of my best friend, Brylee, holding a positive pregnancy test at our Hamptons estate. Gray’s text to her was the final blow: "Happy anniversary, babe. This baby is the best gift. Once the trust unlocks today, we’re done with the charade." I soon discovered they were even stealing my career, reassigning my architectural masterpiece to Brylee while preparing my eviction notice. Gray's mother called me a "barren mule" in a leaked recording, mocking the infertility I suffered after saving Gray’s life in a construction accident. I wasn't a wife; I was a three-year placeholder used to secure his inheritance. How could the man I bled for treat me like a disposable prop? How could my best friend carry his child while pretending to comfort me through my darkest moments? The betrayal burned until it turned into a cold, hard stone of fury. I didn't cry. Instead, I walked into the penthouse of the Barretts, the Cooleys' most powerful rivals. I signed a marriage contract with Kane Barrett, the man the tabloids called the "Beast of Wall Street." "I want a wedding," I told his father, my voice steady and lethal. "Bigger than the one I had with Gray." If they wanted me gone, they would have to watch me become the woman who owns their world.

The Billionaire's Cold And Bitter Betrayal

The Billionaire's Cold And Bitter Betrayal

Clara Bennett
5.0

I had just survived a private jet crash, my body a map of violet bruises and my lungs still burning from the smoke. I woke up in a sterile hospital room, gasping for my husband's name, only to realize I was completely alone. While I was bleeding in a ditch, my husband, Adam, was on the news smiling at a ribbon-cutting ceremony. When I tracked him down at the hospital's VIP wing, I didn't find a grieving husband. I found him tenderly cradling his ex-girlfriend, Casie, in his arms, his face lit with a protective warmth he had never shown me as he carried her into the maternity ward. The betrayal went deeper than I could have imagined. Adam admitted the affair started on our third anniversary-the night he claimed he was stuck in London for a merger. Back at the manor, his mother had already filled our planned nursery with pink boutique bags for Casie's "little princess." When I demanded a divorce, Adam didn't flinch. He sneered that I was "gutter trash" from a foster home and that I'd be begging on the streets within a week. To trap me, he froze my bank accounts, cancelled my flight, and even called the police to report me for "theft" of company property. I realized then that I wasn't his partner; I was a charity case he had plucked from obscurity to manage his life. To the Hortons, I was just a servant who happened to sleep in the master bedroom, a "resilient" woman meant to endure his abuse in silence while the whole world laughed at the joke that was my marriage. Adam thought stripping me of his money would make me crawl back to him. He was wrong. I walked into his executive suite during his biggest deal of the year and poured a mug of sludge over his original ten-million-dollar contracts. Then, right in front of his board and his mistress, I stripped off every designer thread he had ever paid for until I was standing in nothing but my own silk camisole. "You can keep the clothes, Adam. They're as hollow as you are." I grabbed my passport, turned my back on his billions, and walked out of that glass tower barefoot, bleeding, and finally free.

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book