Bound By Blood: The Billionaire's Contract

Chapter 8 No.8

Word Count: 495 | Released on: 03/02/2026

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bathroom. The s

toilet. He had dragged himself there on one good leg and sheer wi

pping to her knees beside him

of his hand. He was pale, sweatin

d. She put her arm around

bed. He collapsed onto th

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ps me alive,"

e pills, sniffed it, then broke it i

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f grudging respect in his e

phone from the false bottom of her clutch. "I

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an you off the road is tracking it. I threw it i

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ou. Dawn

d student who organizes charity dinners and has panic

st grew up,

d-fire, coded phrases, a clipped jargon of numbers and call signs. Dawn

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d. "That's why yo

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Chapter End

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Bound By Blood: The Billionaire's Contract

Out Of Town Romance

“I woke up gasping for air, expecting the cold concrete of a prison cell, but my fingers sank into the plush leather of a luxury Lincoln. I was twenty-four again, wearing the silver silk dress from the night my life was systematically destroyed. Beside me sat my cousin Catrina, the woman whose carefully crafted lies had orchestrated my ruin and sent me to a penitentiary for five years. In my first life, this was the night the dominoes fell. Catrina stole my jewelry to paint me as mentally unstable, and by morning, I was stripped of my medical license and labeled a criminal. My mother's family, the Montgomerys, stood by and watched as my father's company was devoured by wolves, treating my existence like a "liability" that needed to be managed. I still felt the phantom tremors in my hands from prison fights and the stinging betrayal of being discarded by the people I called family. I had lived through five years of absolute hell, a former surgeon rotting in a cell while the people who framed me toasted to their success at galas I was no longer invited to. "Don't be selfish, Dawn," Catrina whispered, reaching for the necklace that would later be used as evidence against me. "Let the jewelry shine on someone who actually matters." She thought I was still the fragile victim she could manipulate, but she didn't realize I had returned from the grave with the cold, clinical calculation of a fixer. Instead of walking into her trap at the gala, I forced the car onto a dark service road and dragged a dying billionaire, Jennings Stafford, from the wreckage of a burning SUV. He was the only man powerful enough to destroy my enemies, and as I stitched his wounds with stolen supplies, I didn't ask for a thank you. I looked him dead in the eye and proposed a contract that would set the world on fire. "I want a strategic marriage. You get a harmless wife with a legacy name to calm your board, and I get immunity from everyone who ever touched me." The bill for my five years in prison had finally come due, and I was here to collect.”