Shi Huatu
13 Published Stories
Shi Huatu's Books and Stories
The Billionaire's Secret Midnight Obsession
Modern I was a broke freelance copywriter, tortured for three sleepless nights by an impossible corporate client.
Needing to vent, I typed out a wild, highly inappropriate rant mocking the brand's stiff heritage.
But in my exhausted, sleep-deprived blur, I accidentally sent the massive block of text to the wrong chat.
The recipient wasn't my friend. It was Emerson Beard, the elite, ruthless brand consultant I was supposed to desperately network with.
I waited for the professional execution, terrified of the massive five-figure penalty fee hanging over my head.
Instead, he didn't block me. He critiqued my unhinged draft.
He saved my career through late-night, encrypted phone calls, his deep, commanding voice becoming my only lifeline.
But when I heard a woman with a sultry French accent knocking on his hotel door during our call, my ugly jealousy flared.
I yelled at him and hung up, completely humiliating myself.
I thought I was just a pathetic, annoying workaholic interrupting his romantic getaway.
But he texted back to clarify he was entirely single, and in the process, realized I was actually twenty-five, not a fresh-out-of-school teenager like he had assumed.
The cold, distant mentor instantly vanished.
In his place was a man radiating a raw, aggressive, and predatory energy that bled right through the screen.
"Texting is too inefficient. The full integration requires face-to-face communication."
He dropped a location pin for an ultra-exclusive Manhattan club, demanding I meet him to save my contract.
Wearing a desperately bought emerald silk dress, I pushed open the heavy oak door, stepping right into the trap of a man who had just taken off his leash. Rejected Princess, Rising From The Ashes
Werewolf For three years, I scrubbed tables as a "wolfless runt," hiding my identity as the Lycan King's daughter.
It was a test for my fiancé, Alpha Connor. I wanted to see if he loved the girl, or just the crown.
He failed spectacularly tonight.
His mistress, Jaden, deliberately knocked a tray of drinks onto me during the dinner rush.
The liquid wasn't alcohol. It was concentrated silver.
My flesh hissed and bubbled as the poison ate through my skin, blocking any ability to heal.
I fell to the floor, clutching my melting hand, while Jaden faked tears and claimed I attacked her.
When Connor finally answered the video call, he saw my mangled hand. He smelled the burning flesh. He knew it was silver.
But he didn't help me.
He looked at his watch, annoyed that I was interrupting his business meeting with investors.
"Apologize to Jaden," he ordered, using his Alpha Command to crush me into submission.
"On your knees. Now."
The pain was blinding, but the betrayal cut deeper. He was forcing his Fated Mate to bow to the woman who tried to maim her.
My knees bent under the pressure, but my Royal blood refused to break.
I looked straight into the camera lens.
"No," I whispered.
I reached into my apron, bypassing the notepad, and pulled out a black satellite phone I hadn't touched in years.
"Code Black," I said to the King on the other end. "Send the Guard."
Connor thought he was disciplining a waitress.
He didn't know he just declared war on the Royal Family. The Substitute Bride Who Stole the Alpha's Cold Heart
Werewolf For eighteen years, the Sinclair family kept me locked in their attic, treating me worse than a stray dog while their precious daughter lived like a princess.
Then, they suddenly barged into my room with a desperate demand: I had to take her place and marry Alpha Brandon Ewing.
He was known across the Dominion as a disfigured, crippled monster who would undoubtedly torture and kill a wolfless Omega like me within a week.
The Sinclairs didn't care. They planned to let me die, then extort his pack for compensation in the name of grief.
When I arrived at the Alpha's magnificent estate, his staff immediately tried to humiliate me.
"Latecomers must enter through the servants' passage," the head housekeeper sneered, pointing to a rusted dog door.
The elite guests laughed, waiting for me to break down in tears and crawl on my knees.
They all thought I was just a pathetic sacrifice, a weak pawn meant to be broken and discarded by everyone.
But they had no idea who they were dealing with.
I didn't cry. Instead, I calmly extorted twenty million dollars from the Sinclairs, walked up to the Alpha's impenetrable iron gates, and ripped a one-ton granite statue from the ground.
With a single swing, I smashed their grand entrance to pieces.
I stepped over the ruins, ready to show my terrifying new husband exactly what kind of beast he had just married. A Contract Marriage With My Nemesis
Romance My fiancé always told me he loved me. But not long after our engagement, I woke up suffocating in the dark.
He was pressing a pillow over my face, his eyes cold and dead, while my half-sister stood by watching with fake pity.
They had orchestrated everything just to steal my trust fund.
It all started with a massive hotel scandal. They had drugged me, thrown a cheap escort into my bed, and brought a mob of paparazzi to ruin my reputation.
When my fiancé broke through the crowd, playing the heartbroken victim, he knelt down with a massive diamond ring.
"I know things have been hard, but I love you. If you come home with me, I will forgive all of this."
In my past life, I cried tears of gratitude and let him slide that ring onto my finger.
That ring sealed my death warrant. I lost my company, my dignity, and eventually, my life.
Until my lungs burned and my heart stopped, I didn't understand.
How could the people I trusted most plot my murder so ruthlessly?
Why did they have to tear my entire life apart?
Opening my eyes again, I was back on the morning of the hotel scandal, exactly one year ago.
But the man lying bare-backed in my bed wasn't a random escort.
It was Johnathan Chase, my family's biggest corporate rival and the most ruthless predator on Wall Street.
Listening to the paparazzi pounding on the door, I smiled coldly. The Secretary He Rejected Is The Alpha King's Daughter
Werewolf For seven years, I suppressed my Alpha aura and took sickening drugs to pass as a human secretary.
All to win a bet with my father, the Alpha King, that Dante loved me for my soul, not my bloodline.
But tonight, Dante proved me wrong in the most public way possible.
While I sat in a taxi, a Times Square billboard lit up with his face. He wasn't working late as he claimed.
He was holding a waitress named Lola, announcing her as his future Luna because she could "breed strong pups" and I was just a "useful tool."
When I arrived at the office to confront them, Lola didn't just mock me. She slapped my face and smashed my mother's silver locket under her heel.
She laughed, thinking she had destroyed a cheap trinket belonging to a weak human.
"You are prey, Seraphina," she sneered. "And you are trespassing in the wolf's den."
She didn't realize that the locket wasn't protecting me from them. It was protecting them from *me*.
With the seal broken, the air in the room instantly dropped twenty degrees. My eyes shifted from brown to glowing liquid silver.
They thought they were discarding a broken secretary. They had no idea they had just declared war on the Royal Family.
I picked up the phone and dialed the most feared number in the werewolf world.
"Papa," I said, stepping over the shattered silver.
"The masquerade is over. Bring the helicopters." The Transactional Marriage: Her Bitter Ascent
Modern The first time my husband, Gregory, chose a billion-dollar deal over my father' s funeral, I knew our marriage was a transaction. But when he started canceling meetings for an actress named Kennedy, I realized he was capable of love-just not for me.
Then came the whispers of his devotion: buying her a theater, brawling with a director who criticized her. My investigation led to a "warning"-a hit-and-run that left me hospitalized. His assistant's message was chilling: "Accidents do happen."
At the police station, after he'd been in another fight for her, Kennedy pointed at me and wailed, "Make her kneel! Make her apologize for breathing the same air as us!"
Gregory' s cold eyes met mine.
"Christie," he commanded, his voice deadly quiet. "Kneel." Shattered Vows: The Don's Runaway Queen
Mafia I was the Queen of New York, the untouchable wife of the city's most feared Mafia Don, Liam Goldstein.
But my throne was built on quicksand.
It started with a photo of a hotel receipt and a tangle of lingerie sent to my phone. It ended with a listening device I planted, hearing my husband tell his mistress that I was just a "decoration" while she would bear his heir.
The humiliation reached its peak at the charity gala.
His mistress, Ava, marched in wearing my jewelry, claiming my husband in front of the city's elite.
When I tried to leave, Liam grabbed me. I fell.
I hit the floor hard, and the pain in my stomach was blinding.
I lay there on the ballroom parquet, bleeding out in my white gown, losing the unborn son Liam claimed he wanted more than anything.
But he didn't kneel to help me.
Terrified of a scandal, he shielded his mistress from the paparazzi and walked away, leaving me to die amidst the champagne and diamonds.
I woke up in a hospital bed with an empty womb and a "sorry" check from his lawyer.
He thought money could fix a dead child. He thought I would just go back to being his ornament.
He was wrong.
That night, I initiated the Phoenix Plan.
I planted my DNA in a car wreck, drove it to the docks, and watched it explode into a fireball.
To the world, and to Liam, Maya Goldstein is dead.
But I’m very much alive. And I’m going to burn his empire to the ground. My Heart, His Spare Part
Modern My bodyguard, Grant, took the full force of a speeding car meant for me. In that moment, I realized I loved him. He was my protector, and I thought his fierce devotion was mine alone.
But in the hospital, I overheard the truth. He hadn't saved me; he'd saved my kidney.
I wasn't the woman he loved. I was just the "best option" for his sick sister's transplant.
Every tender gesture, every watchful glance, was a lie designed to keep his organ donor safe and compliant. The man I adored saw me as nothing more than a collection of spare parts.
The love I thought we shared was a carefully constructed trap, and I had been the fool who walked right in.
The girl who believed in fairy tales died in that sterile hospital hallway. I picked up my phone, my hand steady.
"Dad," I said, my voice cold as ice. "I'm ready to consider the alliance with the Powell family." Betrayal's Scars, A New Beginning
Romance Today was my ninth wedding anniversary, and I lay in a hospital bed, recovering from a hysterectomy.
My husband, Mark, sent a diamond necklace, but instead of him, a young woman' s voice answered his phone.
"This is Emily. Please, don' t do this to Mark."
Her tearful plea implied she had picked out my anniversary gift with him.
He then agreed to a divorce-eagerly, relieved-hanging up before I could speak.
He never showed up at the courthouse.
He promised to meet me. He broke that promise.
Two months later, he stumbled home, drunk, offering me a luxury watch as if it could erase his betrayal.
"A divorce? We' re not getting a divorce," he slurred.
I saw him days later, laughing intimately with Emily at a café, while I was dealing with more than just a broken marriage.
"I have uterine cancer."
The words were out, shattering the fragile peace.
"You have cancer and you' re telling me now? How could you keep that from me?" he shouted, not out of concern, but anger at how it looked.
He raged about losing control, about how this affected him, not once asking about my pain.
I had been alone in a hospital bed, recovering from surgery, while he was at a gala with Emily, the "close companion," the night of my surgery.
He thought I was making a scene, when he was the one who had brought Emily to his parents' home, to Lily' s birthday party.
His mother praised Emily, who' d planned my daughter' s party.
They all stood there, a united front: Mark, his parents, and his mistress, making me the villain.
His cruelty was breathtaking.
"She' s just bitter," he announced to the silent room. "She' s bitter because she' s not a complete woman anymore. She had to have a hysterectomy. She has cancer. She can' t have any more children. She' s broken."
He had taken my deepest vulnerability, my illness, and used it as a weapon to humiliate me publicly.
Something inside me snapped.
I slapped him, hard, the sound echoing through the stunned silence.
Emily shrieked and lunged, but I sidestepped, and she crashed into a table.
"It' s all yours," I said, my voice ringing with finality. "You can have him. You can have this whole rotten family. We' re done."
I walked out, hand in hand with my daughter, leaving the wreckage behind. Reborn Wife: Choosing Love Anew
Sci-fi The grand hall reeked of old money and lilies, a scent that now made my stomach clench. This was it: Dad' s insane "heir selection ceremony."
He called it securing the family legacy, but it was just another bizarre power play. My twin sister, Emily, and I stood before him while he gestured to two men.
One, Alex, was a struggling startup founder, awkward but kind. The other, Liam, was a tech prodigy, brilliant but comatose, hooked up to humming machines.
The rules were simple, and savagely unfair: One of us would marry Alex, and the other, Liam. Emily, as always, got to choose first.
I watched her, my perfect, ambitious twin. She didn' t hesitate, and a painful echo resonated deep within me.
I' d lived this before. In my first life, Emily snatched Alex, leaving me with the silent man in the bed, scoffing, "Sarah' s quiet enough for him."
Her life with Alex was a gilded cage of public performance. Mine, a shadow empire under Liam' s thumb. He wasn't comatose; he was awake, a spider spinning a web of illegal projects, and I was his hostage. I became rich beyond imagination, but I was living a nightmare.
Emily, blinded by envy, saw only my wealth. She couldn' t bear my "success" while her own life crumbled under the weight of society's expectations. Her jealousy consumed her, driving her to orchestrate my ruin, ultimately leading to her own dramatic, fatal car crash.
I woke up, back in this hall, the scent of lilies suffocating me. It was the heir selection ceremony, the day it all began again.
Emily, glowing with confidence, looked between Alex and Liam, then at me. A predatory smile, so unlike her first-life triumph, spread across her face.
"Sister," she purred, her voice sweet as poison, "It' s my turn to enjoy the good life now."
She turned to our father, chin high. "I choose Liam."
A stunned silence fell.
She thought she was taking my power, my secret. She thought she had found the path to immense wealth.
She had no idea. She had just chosen the monster. And in doing so, she had set me free. The System’s Cruel Canvas
Romance The antiseptic smell wasn't new; my head always throbbed. I, Chloe Reed, once a promising artist, was now the "evil stepsister," a role forced upon me by a parasitic System.
A year ago, my adoptive brother Alex, the boy I secretly loved, lay dying. The System offered a cure: become the villain, push Alex into Sarah Jenkins' s arms, and then get a new life. I said yes. How could I not? It was for Alex.
The System' s predictions were chillingly accurate. Alex healed, and Sarah, a ray of manufactured sunshine, entered our lives. My existence became a calculated hell, designed to make Alex despise me. Every humiliation, every cruel word from him, was orchestrated. He looked at me with cold loathing, seeing only the monster I was forced to be.
Then came the art gala. Painting, my soul' s refuge, was to be sacrificed. Alex, the boy who once said my art was magic, demanded I create something to make Sarah' s work shine by comparison. He wanted me to lose, publicly, to prove I could do something for someone else.
The System buzzed with approval, promising freedom. I agreed, the word tasting like ash. The night of the gala, I unveiled "Hopeless," a canvas of chaos. Sarah presented "Hope," a field of vibrant flowers. Her victory was thunderous. Then Alex' s icy words: "You took something beautiful and made it ugly, just for attention. You are truly pathetic."
His words shattered me, more than any blow. I fled into the cold night, gasping, calling the only person I could think of for a panic attack. I was utterly alone.
The next morning, Alex burst into my hospital room, not worried, but furious. The System took over, lashing out with cold, mocking defiance. "Why do you care? I did what you wanted. Sarah won. Isn' t that all that matters?"
His rage became chilling. He showed me a wooden bird, a gift I' d carved for him, claiming Sarah had made it. Then the real blow: Sarah needed a kidney-my kidney. "It' s you," he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. "The surgery is scheduled for tomorrow. You will do this. You will give Sarah your kidney, and maybe, just maybe, you will have redeemed yourself for a fraction of the pain you' ve caused."
I signed the forms in a numb haze. The surgery was a violation, draining me literally and figuratively. Days later, Sarah came to my apartment, radiant, vibrant, full of life. My life. She gloated, then faked an injury, shrieking I' d pushed her. Alex appeared, a mask of primal fury. He didn' t ask. He slapped me, sending me crashing against the wall. "You monster," he snarled. "I am done with you. Stay away from us. Stay away from my family."
I was empty, nothing left to take. My phone buzzed. A text from Alex. "My office. Now." It was another task, another demand. But as I sat in his office, I saw it-my mother' s journal, thought lost forever. Sarah walked in, and with a cruel smirk, she took it. Alex, with a mere hesitation, gave it to her. She "accidentally" dropped it into a coffee, ruining the last piece of my mother. As the world went black, a single, horrifying thought screamed in my mind: I cannot escape. Woke Up A Stranger, Found My Love
Romance I woke up in a hospital, my past a blank beyond my 18th year.
The doctor said I was 27, even a talented architect, and married.
But the woman they introduced as my wife, Sophia, was a cold, stunning stranger.
She looked at me with thinly veiled contempt.
She spoke of my nine lost years as a descent into breakdowns and "pathetic" dependence.
My supposed best friend, Ethan Vance, was her true confidante, a smirking rival.
Disgust curdled in my gut.
This wasn't me.
My 18-year-old self, full of ambition and drive, recoiled from this emasculated shadow of a man they described.
How could I have become a "kept man," constantly ridiculed, chasing the approval of an ice queen?
The humiliation was palpable, preserved in flashed cameras and casual insults.
But this amnesia, this blank slate, felt like a gift.
It stripped away the years of self-erasure, leaving behind only the core of who I was.
And that core wanted nothing to do with this suffocating, demeaning life.
"I want a divorce," I told her, my voice surprisingly firm.
"The me I know wouldn't be married to someone who calls him pathetic."
This was no act, no episode.
This was me, fighting to reclaim a life I didn't remember.
A life free from the woman who claimed to be my wife and the rival who wanted me utterly destroyed.
Little did I know, the fight for my true identity would lead to a bloody confrontation and a shocking revelation that would change everything. You might like
Jilted Heiress: Marrying The Untouchable Tycoon
Piao Guo Allison Montgomery was waiting at the airport when an audio alert from her parked Range Rover flashed on her phone.
Assuming it was a break-in, she checked the live dashcam feed, only to see her fiancé, Finn, and her younger sister, Cheyanne, passionately making out in the backseat.
"Tell me I'm better than her," Cheyanne whispered. "Tell me I'm better than Allison."
"You are," Finn gasped. "God, you are."
When Allison confronted her family with the video, she expected justice.
Instead, her uncle and mother fiercely defended the cheaters.
They blamed Allison's "cold and frigid" nature for pushing Finn away, victim-blaming her in front of the entire household staff.
To protect their corporate alliance, her uncle ruthlessly announced that the engagement would be transferred to Cheyanne, and threatened to strip Allison of her inheritance.
Stripped of her fiancé, her family, and her dignity, Allison realized her pristine twenty-year life was a complete lie.
The people who were supposed to love her were actively protecting her abusers, leaving her utterly isolated and burning with a cold, protective rage.
Refusing to be their victim, Allison targeted Finn's ruthless, billionaire uncle, Adam Kensington, proposing a fake marriage to secure the capital needed to crush her family.
But when the notoriously untouchable Wall Street phantom not only accepted her proposal, but demanded she immediately move into his penthouse to raise his secret daughter, Allison realized she had just sold her soul to the devil. Flash Marriage to the Tycoon, I'm Spoiled Rotten
Hollow Echo Cast out by an "elite" family and mocked by high society, Elena shocked everyone by marrying the most powerful man in town.
They assumed it was a temporary arrangement-after all, he had said, "The agreement is for two years. After that, we're done."
Yet after the wedding, he refused to let her go. "Elena, you can't leave me."
As he doted on her, rumors shattered one by one. A renowned painter, top hacker, and tech mastermind-her true identities stunned the world.
When a luxury empire announced their lost heiress, all eyes turned to her. "Why did she look exactly like Elena?" The Unwanted Wife Is A Zillionaire
Reilly Mcardle For seven years, I played the perfect, hidden wife to billionaire August Chambers while working quietly as an ER nurse.
Three days before our marriage contract expired, he stormed into my emergency room carrying a bleeding woman. It was Allena, his cousin's fiancée.
She had suffered a ruptured corpus luteum from their violent, aggressive sex. Instead of hiding his affair, August ordered me to clear the floor and threw a massive check at my face to buy my silence. Later, his friends trapped me in a VIP club. When a waiter tripped, August violently shoved me aside just to protect Allena from a spilled cup of coffee. I crashed into a glass table, a sharp edge slicing deep into my arm.
"Apologize to her, and I'll have my driver take you to the hospital."
As my blood soaked into the white rug, he stood over me, demanding I get on my knees for his mistress. He didn't know I had faked a miscarriage five years ago to secretly raise our daughter far away from his cruelty. He also didn't know the money he flaunted was pocket change compared to my hidden AI tech empire.
I calmly tied a tourniquet around my bleeding arm with my teeth and wiped my blood directly over his heart onto his custom suit.
"I'm done with you."
The submissive nurse was dead, and it was time to let him burn in the ruins of his own lies. Rejected By My Ex, Desired By His Father
Glitch Petal After six years together, Joslyn was abandoned before her wedding when her boyfriend chose his first love over her.
Then came an unexpected proposal-from Connor, her ex-boyfriend's adoptive father. "Marry me. You'll get everything you want-and you can get back at him."
The deal came with its perks: a lavish monthly allowance, abundant resources at her fingertips, a husband who was practically never home, and the sheer pleasure of rubbing her new status in her ex-boyfriend's face.
But the distant husband she expected turned possessive instead.
While her ex begged publicly for another chance, Connor pulled her into his arms. "Say that again, and you'll be out of the family forever."
Only later did Joslyn discover the truth-Connor had spent six years planning to make her his.
Believing it was only a beneficial deal, Joslyn agreed.
Constant traveling? A complete lie. And the promise that they'd each live their own lives? Another carefully spun deception. On their wedding night, he had her pinned beneath him, his kisses stealing her breath. And night after night, he kept coming home-utterly fixated on her. Married To My Ex-Fiancé's Silent Uncle
Ming Yue Twenty minutes before the "Wedding of the Century" at The Plaza, I stood outside the Presidential Suite in a fifty-thousand-dollar Vera Wang gown. I was the girl from a West Virginia trailer park about to marry Hugh Maxwell, the golden heir to a billion-dollar defense empire.
I pushed the door open only to find Hugh pinned against the bed with my own stepsister, Floy. She was wearing my bridal diamond necklace, and the sounds of their laughter scraped against my eardrums like sandpaper.
I didn't scream; I listened as Hugh grunted that once the wedding was over and the trust fund unlocked, he'd dump "that hillbilly trash" on a bus back to the mountains. They weren't just cheating; they were planning to steal my family's land deeds and leave me with nothing. When I set off the sprinklers and exposed their naked bodies to the paparazzi, the Maxwell family didn't apologize. They called me a "greedy peasant" and threatened to ruin my life unless I signed a new deal to save their crashing stock.
I realized then that I was never a bride to them. I was a transaction, a rounding error in a ledger to be used and discarded. They thought my poverty made me weak and my silence made me a victim.
"If we don't have a marriage certificate by midnight, the bank freezes thirty percent of our liquidity," their lawyer warned.
So, I gave them exactly what they wanted. I used a loophole in their hundred-year-old family covenant and married the only other direct heir available. I didn't marry Hugh. I walked into the ICU and married his uncle, Fleet Maxwell-the legendary war hero who had been in a vegetative state for months.
Now, I am the matriarch of the Maxwell dynasty. I've suspended Hugh's executive powers, exiled my mother-in-law to the Swiss Alps, and taken control of the family vault. They think I'm just a gold-digger waiting for a "corpse" to die so I can collect a fifty-million-dollar widow's payout.
But last night, as I lay beside my comatose husband, the man they called a vegetable gripped my hand back. Seven Years A Fool, One Day A Queen
Stella Montgomery Everyone knew Kristine loved Colton. Still, his heart clung to a woman overseas-someone he spent most days with, now pregnant with his baby-and Kristine still asked him to marry her.
On their registration day, however, he never came; his "true love" had flown back.
Seven years of loyalty later, Kristine walked away, blocked him, and left his city.
Colton didn't blink-until he saw her at the courthouse, arm-in-arm with another man, and the proud CEO went pale. He went after her, desperation overtaking him.
"I'm sorry. Please give me another chance."
She snapped, "Could you stop? I'm already married." Secretly Extraordinary: I'm The Crown Jewel You Failed To Treasure
Anemic Sun For three years, Allison poured herself into marriage, caring for Henry and their home while he gave her nothing but silence.
When his first love returned, he handed her divorce papers and cast her aside.
Heartbroken, Allison walked away and reclaimed the brilliant life she had buried-becoming a famed jewelry designer, restoration master, and mysterious healer.
Only then did everyone learn Henry's unwanted wife was a hidden genius.
Late one night, he called, begging for another chance.
Before she could answer, a male voice spoke. "Allison, who's that?"
Allison answered aloofly, "Just a scammer." The Jilted Ex-Wife Is A Zillionaire
Felix Turner Isabel returned to her penthouse after a grueling seventeen-hour flight, only to be greeted by the cloying scent of another woman's perfume.
Her husband of three years, Darius, sat waiting with divorce papers. He wanted to marry his mistress, Dove, and offered Isabel a measly one million dollars, treating her like a greedy charity case from the Rust Belt who should just take the payout and vanish.
But Isabel didn't want his pity. She demanded the four percent equity stake in his family's company that she rightfully owned—a stake worth 1.5 billion dollars. When she revealed this, the wealthy family turned vicious. They refused to acknowledge that she had secretly saved their empire from bankruptcy years ago. Instead, Darius and Dove orchestrated a brutal public execution. They ambushed her at a top law firm, spreading malicious lies that her investment money was stolen from a Ponzi scheme. They even hired a fake victim to scream at her in the lobby, successfully terrifying Isabel's lawyer into dropping her case on the spot.
She had quietly rescued their entire legacy, yet they were willing to frame her as a criminal and destroy her life just to keep her rightful billions.
As Darius and his mistress gloated over her absolute ruin, the most ruthless and feared lawyer in New York suddenly stepped in front of Isabel, his voice cutting through the dead silence.
"Your case, I'll take it." 
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