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Sold To The Ruthless Wall Street Tycoon

Chapter 3 

Word Count: 820    |    Released on: Today at 18:18

b the next morning. The cold autumn

t Side. The sight made her stomach drop. Two massive moving trucks were already

riveway and pushed through

rms were everywhere, shouting orders and wrapp

balding bank-appointed asset liquidation agent held a met

him, physically ste

ing her mother's antique Steinway piano. "You can't

med glasses. He looked at her

re now owned by the bank, Miss Gonza

acking. "That piano is my father's only

epping around her to che

vase backed up without looking. His

tumbling backward over

f hands grabbed her by the shoulde

sped and tu

, navy-blue Tom Ford suit, his blonde hair perfectly styled. H

, exaggerated concern. "Caro

tely. A wave of physical revulsion washe

He turned to Peterson,

ely," Jerrad commanded loudly,

d recognized the Hutchinson heir. A mix of fake hesitati

g the role of the devoted white knight to perfection. He pulled her

ping to a soothing murmur. "I can pay off the

agonizing flicker of ho

, her voice trembling. "Why didn

locked my trust fund when the SEC news broke. He forbade

d his hand up her arm, hi

u just need to sign over your voting rights in t

ns. She stared at his handsome, perfect face as th

eal her father's company for pennies on the

e into my apartment, Carolina. Let me take care of y

. Gerard's cold warning from the night before echoed in her mind:

nked her arm awa

and slapped him har

d off the bare walls

e side. His fake, comfortin

ere completely dark, filled with vicious, unmaske

nting a shaking finger toward the

. The nice-guy

s voice dripping with venom. "You'll end up on th

heel and storme

g room, her entire body trembling as th

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Sold To The Ruthless Wall Street Tycoon
Sold To The Ruthless Wall Street Tycoon
“My family's empire went bankrupt overnight, and my father was dying in the ICU. To save him, I had to walk into the penthouse of Wall Street's most ruthless billionaire, Gerard Boyle, and beg for a bailout. But Gerard didn't just want my company's shares as collateral. He demanded I take off my engagement ring and sign a suffocating prenuptial agreement to become his society wife. Meanwhile, my fiancé of three years, Jerrad, vanished the second our stock plummeted. When he finally showed up as my family estate was being foreclosed, it wasn't to save me. "All you need to do is sign over your voting rights to me." He wanted to steal my father's legacy for pennies on the dollar while playing the white knight. When I publicly exposed his betrayal and threw the diamond ring at his chest, he threatened to ruin me. I lost everything, even having to abandon my lifelong Juilliard fellowship to find cheap corporate gigs just to survive. I thought selling my freedom into a terrifying, cold marriage with Gerard would at least guarantee my father's survival. But then the doctor delivered a crushing blow: my father needed a sudden half-million-dollar experimental surgery to live. It was a massive out-of-pocket cost completely excluded from Gerard's ironclad contract. Why was I being pushed into a corner with absolutely no way out? Looking at my frail father through the ICU glass, I knew that begging my new billionaire husband for this money meant surrendering my soul entirely. I wiped my tears, turned my back on the ward, and silently vowed to raise the money myself, even if it killed me.”