The Billionaire's Obsession: He Won't Let Her Marry His Uncle

The Billionaire's Obsession: He Won't Let Her Marry His Uncle

PageProfit Studio

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When they crossed paths again after years apart, everyone thought it was fate-of course they'd get back together. But Charisse Walton only offered a wry smile. "Not happening. I dumped him, remember? He's probably just here to settle the score." What she didn't know... was how many times Elliot Grant had silently protected her from the shadows. Meanwhile, Elliot scoffed, hands buried in his pockets. "Please. She never even liked me." What he didn't realize... was that years ago, Charisse had risked everything-even her life-for him. Two hearts. Two stories full of silence, sacrifice, and everything left unsaid. And now, after all this time, the truth is about to break through.

Chapter 1 Chapter 1 Why is it you

"Charisse, think it over again. We're talking five million just for one night with Mr. Grant."

Charisse Walton stayed silent. After a long pause, she finally reached for the sheer black dress-the one with barely-there straps, a neckline that plunged like a dare, and a hem that flirted with scandal.

Every inch of fabric a reminder of how much she needed to be noticed. It wasn't her style.

But tonight, she had no choice but to wear it.

It wasn't about pride or shame-her dad's medical bills couldn't wait.

The hotel manager saw her reaction and immediately smiled, whispering, "Don't worry, I'll keep everything under wraps. Owen won't find out."

Charisse let out a hollow laugh and shook her head. "We're done.I'll break up with him."

Selling her body for money-it tore through every boundary of right and wrong she'd ever known.

And yet, the worst part wasn't what she had to do-it was knowing she'd never look Owen Carter in the eye the same way again.

She changed into the dress, sent Owen a breakup message, and stepped into the private elevator.

The penthouse was cold, sleek, and unapologetically extravagant-glass, marble, chrome. But she didn't spare it a glance.

Not even at the man seated with his back to her, staring out the towering floor-to-ceiling windows.

He said nothing.

Eyes lowered, voice flat, Charisse asked,

"So... are we getting straight to it, or do we shower first?"

A long pause.

Then the faint rustle of movement.

He stood.

Calm, unhurried footsteps echoed across the marble floor. As he neared, a subtle scent of cedar reached her-clean, sharp, cold.

Suddenly, his hand caught her chin, tilting it up with rough precision.

Her breath caught.

Their eyes met.

And everything stopped.

Her heart slammed against her ribs.

"Why is it you?!" she gasped, the words barely more than a whisper-but heavy like a scream.

-------

A rush of memories flashed through her mind, racing back nineteen years, when she was six.

The nanny returning from her hometown had brought along an eight-year-old boy, saying with gratitude, "Thank you, sir and ma'am, for giving Elliot the chance to study in the city. I truly don't know how I'll ever be able to repay you.."

Then she brought the boy to stand in front of her, saying, "Elliot, this is Miss Charisse I told you about. Be respectful, and help her when she needs it."

The two kids looked at each other-Charisse with entitled pride, Elliot with a hint of nervous curiosity.

Now, the tables had turned. The power she once held was gone. He stood above her now-calm, controlled, and in complete command.

Hold on-wasn't he Elliot Davis? What the hell is this Mr. Grant thing?

Compared to her shock, Elliot Grant looked coldly composed.

He stared down at her with no expression, voice dripping with mockery. "Wow, Miss Walton, I almost didn't recognize you. So this is what falling from grace looks like?"

She fired back without missing a beat. "And what about the guy hiring prostitutes? Real role model material, huh?"

Elliot's hand slid from her chin to the back of her neck. With one swift push, he pulled them closer, so close their noses nearly brushed.

His eyes were icy, and his presence felt suffocating. "Miss Walton, when you dumped me like I was disposable, did it ever cross your mind we'd be standing here like this?"

Charisse's lips pressed into a tight line. "That was years ago. I barely remember anymore."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I had an accident at seventeen. Lost almost a year's worth of memories. Still haven't gotten them back."

Elliot let out a laugh, sharp and humorless. "And that's the best excuse you've come up with after all this time?"

He leaned in, laughter vanishing, his tone suddenly freezing. "Or did you just think I'd still be dumb enough to believe you, like before?"

"I never lied to you."

"You think just 'cause you don't remember it, that means it didn't happen?"

Elliot would never forget the icy words Charisse had thrown at him when they broke up. Not in this life.

Even when he was hanging by a thread after the accident-unconscious, hooked up to machines, fighting for his life-she didn't show. Not once.

He was barely breathing, still calling her name in his sleep.

And her?

She didn't even pick up the phone.

She sent a bank card through someone else with a one-line message: "Cover the bills."

Then she vanished-off to some island with her friends, drinking champagne by the ocean while he lay half-dead under hospital lights.

She never asked if he made it out alive.

To her, he was just another problem that could be solved with money-and forgotten before the next cocktail arrived.

So now she acts like none of it matters? Like her coldness back then didn't leave a mark?

He suddenly let go of her wrist, walked over and slumped onto the sofa. His eyes had gone stone-cold. "Since you don't remember, let's just pretend this is our first time meeting."

Charisse lifted her chin, calm and composed. "That's fair."

He was riding high; she'd hit rock bottom. If they were talking history, she'd be the one reaching up.

"Alright then, let's start. I hope Miss Walton lives up to the price I'm paying."

She didn't even flinch at the jab. "You're being so generous, Mr. Grant. I'll make sure you get your money's worth."

Charisse had figured it out-he'd known who she was all along. He called her here on purpose.

A setup.

All to humiliate her.

All to make her pay.

She moved closer, settling beside him, taking a steadying breath as she leaned in.

But just as their lips were about to meet, Elliot turned his head-only slightly, but enough.

She froze.

No words were needed. The message hit like a glass of cold water.

She'd seen it before. Some men don't kiss girls they pay.

Kissing, to them, is too personal-too intimate.

And girls like her?

They don't get intimacy.

They get instructions.

Charisse pressed her lips together, bitterness rising in her throat.

Right now, in his eyes, she was no different from those women working the hotel floors.

Dirty. Disposable.

A soft clink broke the silence-she'd unfastened his belt.

Elliot sat still, face unreadable. But when her hand reached for him, his jaw tightened, sharp enough to cut.

"With your mouth," he said, voice deep and low.

Charisse paused, then nodded. "Okay."

She sank slowly to her knees, the delicate fabric of her sheer dress pooling around her as it slipped from her shoulders, baring the elegant line of her smooth back.

With a tentative hand, she traced the protrusion through his black underwear. Beneath her fingertips, it stirred and grew, its form defined and urgent. A deep breath filled her lungs-a silent preparation for a sacrificial offering.

Her hesitation and clumsiness made his demand seem cruel, even vulgar. But back then, when he'd laid his whole heart out for her and she stomped all over it, did she ever stop to think she'd gone too far?

Elliot towered over Charisse, his gaze engulfing her. Though hatred scalded his heart, a more complex feeling began to rise.

Suddenly, Charisse stood back up and sprang at him, lips crashing into his.

It wasn't a kiss-it was more like a bite, wild and a little unhinged.

And when she pulled away, she stared him dead in the eye, that smile twisted and defiant. "If you're gonna make me sick, I might as well gross you out first."

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Chapters
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The Billionaire's Obsession: He Won't Let Her Marry His Uncle
1

Chapter 1 Chapter 1 Why is it you

16/10/2025

2

Chapter 2 Chapter 2 Kiss fee

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3

Chapter 3 Chapter 3 There's nothing left between us

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4

Chapter 4 Chapter 4 Marry to Clayton

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5

Chapter 5 Chapter 5 Massive blood loss

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6

Chapter 6 Chapter 6 Your future aunt

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7

Chapter 7 Chapter 7 Save it for when you actually marry Clayton

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8

Chapter 8 Chapter 8 Same old trick, huh

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9

Chapter 9 Chapter 9 Round two of that five million

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10

Chapter 10 Chapter 10 Intimate posture

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11

Chapter 11 Chapter 11 I can't possibly marry you

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12

Chapter 12 Chapter 12 An unspoken threat

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13

Chapter 13 Chapter 13 You dare talk to me like that

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14

Chapter 14 Chapter 14 She's out today for sure.

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15

Chapter 15 Chapter 15 1.3 million

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16

Chapter 16 Chapter 16 Charisse, it's time for you to go

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17

Chapter 17 Chapter 17 I messed up. The dress is yours.

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18

Chapter 18 Chapter 18 Charisse, call from the presidential suite

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19

Chapter 19 Chapter 19 Are you seriously planning to have someone help you shower

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20

Chapter 20 Chapter 20 Relax, I won't touch you tonight

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21

Chapter 21 Chapter 21 You don't wanna sleep with me

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22

Chapter 22 Chapter 22 Do I seriously make you that sick

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23

Chapter 23 Chapter 23 Did you call Mr. Ellis away on purpose

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24

Chapter 24 Chapter 24 Guess I showed up at the wrong time, huh

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25

Chapter 25 Chapter 25 You want something to keep quiet

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26

Chapter 26 Chapter 26 Didn't he like Isabella

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27

Chapter 27 Chapter 27 Maybe we shake things up a little

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28

Chapter 28 Chapter 28 Seems like you're really enjoying your new role

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29

Chapter 29 Chapter 29 I thought maybe he liked you

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30

Chapter 30 Chapter 30 You really think I'll just let you become Mrs. Ellis like that

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31

Chapter 31 Chapter 31 He was, like, super sweet, totally a gentleman!

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32

Chapter 32 Chapter 32 I want Elliot Davis

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33

Chapter 33 Chapter 33 Dig into that woman. Find out who she is.

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34

Chapter 34 Chapter 34 For her father-whatever it takes

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35

Chapter 35 Chapter 35 He bothering you again

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36

Chapter 36 Chapter 36 Isn't this more satisfying than just killing someone outright

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37

Chapter 37 Chapter 37 What does whether he lives or dies have to do with me

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38

Chapter 38 Chapter 38 A fabulous nephew-vs-uncle love triangle unfold

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39

Chapter 39 Chapter 39 Charisse, I... I'm pregnant

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40

Chapter 40 Chapter 40 Whether she likes me or not isn't the point

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