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Bound To The Ruthless Wall Street Butcher

Chapter 3 No.3

Word Count: 856 | Released on: 05/02/2026

avern of gold leaf and crystal. It smel

layne on his arm, the room d

eight of hundreds of eyes. They were dissecting

moving. His hand was a warm, heavy weigh

er," Elayne whispered b

Passion

a group of gray-haired men waved him over. "Stay he

g her stranded on an i

ately, the sh

The Senator's daughter. She was wearing a dre

of champagne. "I heard they let visitors bring snacks to the pen

r rippled through A

ayne up and down. "So... vintage. Is that from

round her glass. She wanted

t. Maintain the Kirk image. A Kirk

e. She let the silence stretch un

Ponti original? I heard he was indicted for money laundering last week. The FBI is seizing all asset

's face w

our husband? Is he enjoying his time in the Caymans? I heard the weather is lo

recoiled as if Elayn

e knew every dirty secret, every hidden a

"You bitch," she hissed. She jerked her

ped with the gr

hed onto the pristine white tuxedo of th

asped. The roo

ere, glass empty,

led on Elay

wet tuxedo, then at Angelique's te

ry. The corner of

Gunnar said, his voice cutting through the tensi

hot against her ear. "I tho

lue," Elayne whispered back.

at her, for the first time. There

o cross you in pub

at the entrance caught

arguing with security, trying

ith saw Gunnar, she would demand

," Elayne said abruptly,

alked fast toward the side corridor, slipping ou

wrong turn. She found herself at the foot of the grand staircase.

second floor and slipped inside, leaning

. It smelled of o

d from the shadows. "Why do

her hand flying

man. His skin was like parchment, his eyes clouded

her. Specifically, at the loc

Patek Philippe 'Firstborn.' My wife had one. A

tight. Inside was the onl

you mean," she stammered

an hissed. "The b

Chapter End

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Bound To The Ruthless Wall Street Butcher

Lan Zhen Modern

“I was trapped in a velvet booth at Le Bernardin, Arthur Sterling's hand crawling up my knee as he whispered that my father would be in handcuffs by morning if I didn't spend the night with him. Desperate to escape, I lunged at the only man more dangerous than Arthur-Gunnar Kirk, the "Butcher of Wall Street"-and kissed him in front of every camera in the room, thinking I was choosing the lesser of two evils. I was wrong; Gunnar didn't just play along, he took possession, forcing me into a cold-blooded contract to be his fake fiancée to save his corporate image from an SEC investigation. While my greedy stepmother and sister were busy fighting over the diamonds he sent, I was living in terror, trying to hide the one thing that truly mattered: my infant son, hidden away with a nanny in a cramped Queens apartment. When my baby suffered a febrile seizure and I rushed to the ER, I looked up to see Gunnar standing in the doorway, his glacial eyes boring into me as he realized the "ruined" socialite was hiding a child from her past. I tried to sabotage the wedding, setting up my fame-hungry stepsister as a decoy bride so I could flee to Switzerland with my son, but Gunnar caught me on the fire escape before I could take a single step toward freedom. He threw me over his shoulder like a sack of flour and told me that if I didn't walk down that aisle, he would personally ensure my father rotted in prison. We stood at the altar and exchanged vows in a ceremony built on blackmail and lies, but as we walked out as husband and wife, Gunnar didn't look at me with affection; he turned to his assistant and ordered a total deep dive into the medical records I had spent a year trying to erase. "Find out exactly what happened during those nine months in Switzerland, and tell me who that baby really belongs to."”