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Bankrupt Socialite: The Billionaire's Revenge Bride

Chapter 4 No.4

Word Count: 596    |    Released on: 03/02/2026

ed of expensive pe

. Heads turned. They were waiting for the brea

dress exposed her spine, a line of vu

uxedo, standing next to Tiffany, who was dra

ister! Are you here to beg

ughter went th

top. She walked s

tended a hand. "El. If you apologiz

lled her phone from her clutch an

. The cemetery.

he color of ash. He

ned to create a public spectacle so toxic that the Stark board would have no choice but to see Julian as a liability she was offering to clean up. It was an audition

s voice trembling. "That's a fami

aid, her voice cool and light. "Not

ociation was very interested in your forged transcr

ed squeak. She grabbed Ju

a's wrist. His grip wa

e ceiling. "Cameras, Julian. Journalists everywhere. Go ahead.

d around. He saw the e

r hand like i

ut and straightened his bow tie. "Cons

r legs like smoke. She walked away, leaving t

, behind one-way gl

you wanted, si

k. "She's more ruthless

aned against the wall in the corridor, gasping for air.

, holding a whi

d up. Alm

performance," the lawyer said.

he wiped the cold sweat from her

behind them. "You think this

look back. She w

hen she got there, the door was aj

trashed. A message was spray-p

was her father. The

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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.”