Bankrupt Socialite: The Billionaire's Revenge Bride

Chapter 3 No.3

Word Count: 679 | Released on: 03/02/2026

days

glass box suspended in the sky. It was sterile

three years old, carefully pressed. Her phone sat in front of her, the

oor o

ace like a ferret and a suit that fit

ross the table. It la

, Miss Compton," Almus said. His v

pened it.

ared equity. A confidentiality agreement so strict sh

ipate in all public relations events as directed but shall have no right to

he hiring a wife

iring a

eing late. He took the seat at the head of

ll post your father's bail. I will provide you with a resid

ed from the family t

me for personal reve

Stark. He is disloyal and

on the table. "Done. B

ve three days to clean up your own mess. I

gga

ing the front desk. He's been texting

e buzzed again.

"Your due diligence period

I know you're broke, El. Come back. I can set y

r throat. She s

she said, standing

is a charity gala. Julian will be

d. She walked

to Julian. Meet me at the G

tly. Knew you'd c

cemetery. In it, Julian clearly mentioned using trust funds to pay for Tiffany's extravagant shopping spree. That was the leverag

rds. Or rather, the lack of them.

d at the old black gown in her closet.

a pair of

e fabric to create a plunging neckline.

aring back wasn't Eleonora Compton, the vic

of Eleonora leaving her building. "She's going

"No. If she can't handle an ex-boyfrie

her bleed. Let's see

Chapter End

Claim Your Bonus at the APP

Open

Bankrupt Socialite: The Billionaire's Revenge Bride

Ren Ping Sheng Modern

“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.”