The Billionaire's Contract: Revenge On My Ex

Chapter 6 6

Word Count: 642 | Released on: 22/01/2026

ell of coffee-rich, d

lready dressed, sitting at a small breakfast table near the w

looking up. "Drink this." He pus

strong. "What's wrong?" she asked, se

ablet. "Headlines ar

reen. The Daily Mail ho

ster Irwin Hijacks Runw

backstage, looking intense, with a

to shake, rattling the cup against the saucer. "They're going

on his screen. "It's the standard playbo

rang. It w

t Isham. He nod

ssed th

ake concern. "I saw the news. My god. The board is furious. They

ge of the table. "You

nce for this afternoon. You just need to admit it was a publicity stunt gone wrong. Say you

lence. It mean

her throat. She wanted to scream at Hayw

wrote on a napkin.

. Tra

e ink. The letters

her voice to be small, defeated. "O

f audible. "2 PM at the Plaza. Don't

ne wen

"Why did you make me agree

deny it, you look defensive. But if you agree to the stage, you get the m

'm broken,"

s enemy." Isham buttoned his jacket. "Get dressed.

picked up her pho

er said. "The N

spered on the other end. "And the medical recor

ital'," Hester said. "I want the world

up the phone and leaned back in

ed," he

nce she admits she's crazy on camera, her c

er. It was humiliating. I apologize for m

ey didn't notice Josie in the corner, her phone plugged in

Chapter End

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The Billionaire's Contract: Revenge On My Ex

Grump Romance

“I was a top-tier model with a fiancé I trusted to manage every cent I earned. I thought we were building a life together until a blown fuse at the studio sent me home twenty minutes early. The silence of the penthouse was broken by a trail of clothes: Haywood's silk tie, then a red-soled stiletto that belonged to Brandy, the girl I had mentored like a sister. Through the bedroom door, I watched the man I loved tell his mistress that I was "yesterday's news" while they tangled in the sheets I had picked out six months ago. I didn't scream; I just turned to leave, but the betrayal went deeper than the bedroom. When I checked my banking app, my balance was exactly $12.45. Haywood had liquidated every holding account and savings entry I owned, using a "tax strategy" he'd convinced me of to steal my entire past. Within hours, the man who robbed me was planting stories in the press, claiming I was having a drug-fueled breakdown. He wanted me penniless, homeless, and discredited so no one would believe the truth. He even tried to force me into a "rehab" facility to silence me forever while he promoted his pregnant mistress. I stood on a New York curb with nothing left but a desperate, insane idea born from a headline on my phone. Isham Rhodes, the most ruthless CEO in the city, needed a wife by thirty to keep his empire, and I needed a shield to survive mine. "Mr. Rhodes, I hear you need a puppet," I said, intercepting him in the rain outside City Hall. "I don't want your love. I want a legal document that makes me untouchable." He didn't ask for a romance; he asked for my ID. Now, with a billionaire's black card in my pocket and a marriage certificate in my hand, I'm going back to the agency to take back everything they stole. The war has just begun.”