Bound To The Ruthless Wall Street Butcher

Chapter 4 No.4

Word Count: 620 | Released on: 05/02/2026

hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs. She tu

pped her shoulde

unnar's v

rowning, looking at her pa

d, her voice breathles

o long, then steered her down the ha

a masculine room, all mahogany and leather. He closed

er and poured two fingers of ambe

wallow. The whiskey b

nst his desk. He was watching her like a specimen in a jar. "

a crumpled check. It was for fifty thousand dollars-the proceeds fro

it across

oice steadying. "I'll pay you the rest. I

. He didn't pick it up. He

"Elayne, my stock went up four points tonight. That's worth th

tore it in half. Then in quarters. He let t

unnar said. "In fact, t

close." He stopped right in front of her, boxing her in agai

ave insomnia. Terrible insomnia. I pace a

"Are you hiding a man in

said too

phone. "Cornell. Send the styling team to t

efore she co

ne cried. "What if I go to the press?

tray lock of hair behind her ear. His fingers linger

s bail is posted by my company. You talk, he goe

. He held al

onster," sh

corrected. "And you are my m

in the distance

oking flustered. "Sir, the police are at the gate. A

brow at Elayne. "You

Go home, Elayne. Pack your ba

ut, her legs fe

than ten hours to ma

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."”