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Bankrupt Socialite: The Billionaire's Revenge Bride

Chapter 2 No.2

Word Count: 778    |    Released on: 03/02/2026

ee root, her vision swimming. She hadn't eaten since yesterday morning. The adren

glyc

adstone to steady herself. Ahead, a s

ed in a black trench coat that cost more than her father's bail. A bodyguard held a

n St

step. Her heel c

d tilted

he ground. Instead, she felt a

was being held up, not gently, but efficiently.

winter ocean, stared down at her. There

thes pressing against his dry coat with disti

t, A

sharp, crackin

covered in wool blankets. Grandmother Stark.

girl," the old wom

go, but his grip didn't so

't a qu

white. She had seconds before the darkness

ng on my shoes

hispered, the darkness closing in. "My value

led back. Sh

unconscious form with one arm. He look

cane on the wet pavement. "Put her in the car. Even when

rm

g Eleonora felt. Then t

-colored leather, wrapped in a cashmere blank

ething on an iPad, a stylus moving efficie

de her. She shoved a thermos cup into Eleonora's hand

her throat, but the sugar hit her bloo

the cup. "

said, skipping pleasantries. "But I

n. She looked at Alden.

ry liquidity cr

g onto hers. "Your father's Ponzi scheme isn't a 'li

d his gaze. "That is exactly wh

ker of amusement-or perhaps sco

lean record, an old name, and perfect manners to satisfy your grandm

affordable. I have no leverage, which means I will be obedient.

. The grandmother l

in the quiet cabin. He leaned forward, invading her

elf like a bad stock o

tructuring opportunity. If you inject

retu

," she said. "I will ensure he

d at her wet hair, her determined jaw, the fire

the intercom. He didn't look away fro

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Bankrupt Socialite: The Billionaire's Revenge Bride
Bankrupt Socialite: The Billionaire's Revenge Bride
“I was the bankrupt socialite everyone pitied, standing in the mud at my mother's grave with nothing left but a pair of old Louboutins and a single white rose. My bank account was overdrawn by three hundred dollars, but I still believed Julian, my fiancé, was the one person who hadn't abandoned the toxic Compton name. Then I saw his Maybach shaking in the cemetery parking lot. Through a crack in the window, I heard the man I loved whispering to my stepsister, Tiffany. "Don't worry about the broke princess. Once I secure her voting proxy for the trust, I'm dumping her." Tiffany laughed, clutching the scarlet coat she'd charged to my own maxed-out credit card. "She's so pathetic, Julian. She actually thinks you love her." I didn't scream; I recorded them. But when I tried to use that leverage, my family turned into vipers. To protect Julian's status, they framed me for causing Tiffany to miscarry a fake pregnancy and planted stolen documents in my bag. My own father stood by as they locked me in a room, planning to sell me to a predatory creditor named Hightower to settle his gambling debts. I ended up in a freezing police cell, my ankle shattered and my reputation destroyed. I sat on that metal bench, shivering as I realized my own blood had traded my life for a check. I called the only man powerful enough to burn them all-Julian's uncle, the "Butcher of Wall Street," Alden Stark. The phone just kept ringing. He wasn't coming. To the world, I was just a walking bankruptcy filing, a girl who had finally run out of luck. I didn't wait for a savior. I escaped custody and ran barefoot through the rain, leaving a trail of blood on the marble floor of Stark Tower. When I collapsed at Alden's feet, he didn't look at me with pity; he looked at me like a rare, damaged artifact he finally owned. "Inform the board that this is my fiancée," he announced, lifting me into his arms. I signed the marriage contract that night, trading my freedom for the power to ensure my family's liabilities exceeded their assets for the rest of their natural lives.”