Victor Hale
12 Published Stories
Victor Hale's Books and Stories
The Unwanted Wife's Spectacular Ballet Comeback
Billionaires Helena endured two years of a sterile, loveless marriage to billionaire CEO Dante Velasquez, playing the role of the perfect, invisible wife.
The fragile illusion shattered when she found microscopic holes systematically poked through her entire box of condoms.
When she confronted Dante, he coldly accused her of trying to trap him with a baby, then immediately abandoned her to comfort his ex-girlfriend.
But the truth was far more twisted.
At the hospital, Helena overheard her mother-in-law's horrifying plan.
"She has to get pregnant. We need the stem cells to save Julian."
They didn't want an heir. They needed Helena to be a walking incubator to harvest spare parts for Dante's sickly younger brother.
When Helena tried to fund her escape, Dante dragged her back, froze all her accounts, and forced a humiliating blood test to prove she wasn't scheming.
"You're nothing without me," he sneered, locking her inside their penthouse.
Sitting in her gilded cage, watching the media parade Dante and his ex as society's "golden couple," Helena felt her heartbreak completely evaporate.
She had sacrificed her prestigious ballet career for a family that viewed her as literal livestock.
The tears stopped, leaving behind only a cold, razor-sharp resolve.
She printed out her divorce papers, marched straight into the crowded headquarters of Velasquez Corp, and prepared to burn his empire to the ground. Flash Marriage To My Secret Billionaire
Romance Finley's stepfather gave her a sickening ultimatum: marry her predatory stepbrother Shane tonight, or he would throw her fragile mother out on the street.
To escape this hell, she used a matchmaking agency and hastily married a complete stranger. Garrison Strickland claimed to be an ordinary data analyst making $95,000 a year, driving a beat-up Honda Civic, and needing a wife in name only. They got their marriage license at City Hall that very afternoon.
But when Finley returned home to pack her bags and threw the certificate on the table, her family just laughed. Dozier ordered Shane to drag her into the bedroom to "teach her a lesson" and trap her forever.
"Come on, little sister," Shane crooned, lunging at her. "Don't fight it."
Finley's own mother just stared at the floor, blaming Finley for ruining the family, watching blindly as Shane cornered her.
Terrified and desperate, Finley smashed an ashtray over Shane's head and frantically dialed her new husband's number. Shane snatched the phone, mocking the "imaginary husband" before the line went dead. Finley felt a bottomless despair. Garrison was just a normal guy; he would never risk his life against her violent family. She was completely on her own, waiting for the end.
Suddenly, deafening bangs echoed through the house, and Garrison stepped into the living room radiating a cold, terrifying fury. This supposedly "frugal data analyst" effortlessly snapped Shane's wrist, leveled a ruthless death threat that made Dozier tremble, and whisked Finley away in a waiting Bentley. Looking at the powerful man beside her, Finley's heart raced: just who exactly had she married today? Bound to Him: A Spirit's Dark Return
Modern The last time I heard my boyfriend Arthur' s voice, he was telling me to stop being so dramatic. I had been kidnapped by a man he' d bankrupted, and I was begging for my life.
"This is a new low, even for you," he said, his voice cold with annoyance. "I don' t have time for these games."
He hung up on me to deal with a work crisis for his partner, Genesis. My kidnapper, realizing no ransom would ever be paid, strapped a bomb to my chest and left me to die.
The explosion killed me, but it didn't set me free. Instead, my spirit became tethered to Arthur, a cruel, invisible chain forcing me to follow him.
I had to watch as he investigated the murder of a "Jane Doe," never once suspecting the unrecognizable victim was me. He saw my final text message-the one telling him I was pregnant-and called it a sick, manipulative lie before blocking my number and erasing me from his life.
I was a ghost, bound to the man whose indifference was my death sentence, forced to watch him grieve for a stranger while cursing my name.
I thought this was my eternal punishment. But a year later, I overheard his new fiancée, Genesis, bragging to her friends. And I finally learned the truth about who really sent my killer to my door. The Fake Heiress Marries a Top Tycoon
Romance The day after my father passed away, my stepmother, Destinee Vaughn, wasted no time bringing my father's biological daughter, Lola Haynes, back from the countryside.
She threw a paternity test report in front of me and demanded I leave the Haynes Group.
My fiancé, Caden Fletcher, who loved me deeply, apologized, his eyes red with unshed tears, "I'm sorry, I can only marry the heir of the Haynes Group."
I wasn't my father's biological child.
But they didn't know my mother was the daughter of a mafia boss.
The lady that Eura's biggest mafia leader had been searching for was me. Nine Years, One Betrayal
Romance Today was our ninth wedding anniversary, and I arrived at the airport, bouquet in hand, ready to surprise my wife, Jessica, after her "business trip." Instead, I found her wrapped in a young man's arms, sharing a long, deep kiss. My world went silent.
The roses in my lap felt impossibly heavy as I watched her with this stranger, a boy who looked fresh out of college. Then, her text flashed on my phone: "Plane just landed! So tired. Can't wait to see you, honey! XOXO." The blatant lie hit harder than the betrayal itself.
That night, she came home, smiling, feigning affection, even pulling out an anniversary gift – a sleek, silver watch. A wave of nausea washed over me. It was the exact same watch the young man at the airport was wearing. She spoke of love and forever, her words like ash in my mouth. Was any of it real?
She spun more lies, claiming her trip was to San Francisco, not Chicago, and trying to pass off the watch as an innocent mistake. Her desperation to maintain the facade was almost fascinating, a grotesque parody of the woman I thought I knew. I felt a strange detachment, watching my life unravel.
The situation worsened when she tried to comfort me, mistaking my coldness for work stress. Her phone rang, and I knew it was him – Liam Davis. I locked myself in the bathroom, feeling the filth, and then made a call. I hired a private investigator.
The next morning, the investigator' s photos confirmed my worst fears: Jessica and Liam, intimate, entangled. The rage I had suppressed began to simmer, fueled by the sheer audacity of her deceit. How could she have poisoned every moment of our shared life for two years? The Ex-Best Friend's Cruelty
Modern The old man hit the pavement hard.
One moment I was walking to meet my best friend, Jessica, for coffee, the next my medical student instincts screamed.
"Sarah, stop!"
Jessica's grip on my arm was tight, her face a mask of alarm.
"Don't get involved," she hissed, warning of scams and pickpockets.
Her words, and a past trauma of kindness exploited, made me pause, just for a second.
A fatal second.
In that life, I listened.
I stood by, fear warring with my training, as precious minutes ticked away.
Mr. Henderson, the veteran, died before the ambulance arrived.
The public fallout was immediate and brutal.
Jessica, my best friend, painted me as a cold, heartless medical student in a viral interview, cleverly omitting her own role in dissuading me.
"Heartless Med Student Lets Veteran Die."
That headline destroyed my life.
I was suspended from medical school.
My boyfriend left me.
My address was leaked, and I received death threats, trapped as a pariah in my own home.
Jessica, meanwhile, thrived, becoming a celebrated symbol of civic virtue, funneling donations from a foundation in Mr. Henderson's name into her own pockets.
The weight of the world's hatred, Jessica's betrayal, and crushing guilt became too much.
I lost everything.
My future.
My will to live.
The last thing I remembered was Jessica's triumphant smile on a talk show.
Then, darkness.
Until I was ripped from it.
My eyes flew open.
The scent of hotdogs, a taxi's screech, humid air.
I was back.
Standing on the same sidewalk, my bag in hand.
Twenty feet away, Mr. Henderson was just beginning to crumple to the ground.
This wasn't a memory.
It was happening again.
The thud of his body was the starting gun for my second chance.
I didn't waste a second. His Terminal Lie, Her New Life
Romance For eight years, I truly believed I had the perfect marriage with Ethan.
Then came the "terminal illness" diagnosis, a convenient tragedy that allowed him to have children with another woman, Chloe, supposedly for his parents' legacy, not ours.
I swallowed my pain, playing the role of the understanding wife while Chloe, pregnant with their third child, paraded her triumph in my home, erasing every trace of my presence.
It wasn't enough for them; Chloe, with her mother's vile "holy water," attempted to poison me, leading to a miscarriage and cardiac arrest, all while Ethan watched, then struck me, and forced me to sign our divorce papers with my own blood.
I was left for dead, abandoned by the man I loved, my world collapsing around me with a sickening thud.
But I wasn't dead, and neither was my resolve.
Now, it' s my turn to reclaim my life, piece by agonizing piece, and expose the monstrous lies that stole everything from me. Reborn: No Sacrifice for Him
Romance "I' m turning it down." My words, quiet but firm, echoed in the university president' s opulent office as I rejected the Ivy League scholarship that was supposed to be my golden ticket.
This scholarship, the one I' d bled for, I had given up for him-Ethan Hayes, my fiancé, who convinced me his struggling "first love," Chloe, needed it more.
In my past life, I watched him rise to tech billionaire status, only to be discarded like an old toy. He and our son, Leo, kicked me out, calling me an embarrassment, while Ethan flaunted Chloe, who conveniently reappeared once the money flowed again. I died at 45, penniless and alone, my life a footnote in his grand story.
The sting of that memory, a cold, hard stone in my chest, fuels me now. I don' t understand how I believed his lies, how I let myself be erased. How could I have been so blind?
But now, I' m back. This time, there will be no sacrifices for Ethan, no quiet suffering. This time, I hold the pen, and I will write my own future. A Phoenix Rises
Modern The hum of the server room was a familiar lullaby as I watched years of my life, "Echoes of Eternity," approaching launch. This was my statement to the world, my proof to Liam.
Then, he walked in, my brother, Liam Reed, and his words, laced with doubt and veiled threats, twisted the air around me.
"It won't fail," I insisted, but the tremor in my voice betrayed my desperate hope for his belief, not his constant, suffocating need to control me, to protect me from myself.
His PR manager, Scarlett, smirked, calling my masterpiece a "small indie title," a "shame" that my work ended in humiliation, all while Liam stood by, indifferent.
The crushing failure of my game, the torrent of angry messages, and Liam' s public statement blaming my "unproven indie studio" hit me like a physical blow, stripping away my hard-won independence and shattering my belief in him.
He called, his voice dripping with false concern, claiming he "mitigated the damage," while I knew the truth: he destroyed everything. He always said he was protecting me, but his love was a gilded cage, his protection a prison.
I screamed, "You destroyed everything!" But his reply, calm and infuriating, solidified my resolve: "You're too emotional, too naive."
He wanted me to come home, to come back under his umbrella, but staring at his number, a terrifying yet exhilarating realization dawned on me: I was truly on my own.
That' s when Noah Vance's email, a lifeline from a rival I barely knew, landed in my inbox: "An Opportunity."
I knew then, this was my chance. I would rise from the ashes, a phoenix, not for his approval, but for myself. My life, my choices, my future-they were mine now. Second Chances, New Vows
Romance Ethan Miller, a dedicated veterinarian, cherished his seemingly stable life and loving marriage to Jessica in the picturesque town of Aspen Ridge.
He envisioned a future brimming with warmth and family, a life built on trust.
Then, a chilling discovery shattered his world.
He uncovered Jessica's secret affair with Kyle Vance, a man whose polished charm masked a far darker truth: he was a cunning con artist.
But Kyle wasn't content with just infidelity; he embarked on a systematic campaign to destroy Ethan.
Horrifyingly, Jessica became his shocking accomplice, actively participating in the elaborate gaslighting.
Ethan found himself relentlessly framed with fake injuries, subjected to public humiliation, and ultimately accused of attempted murder through chillingly fabricated audio recordings.
His reputation, meticulously built over years, crumbled.
The community turned its back, whispered accusations following his every step.
His home became a battleground, then a prison, finally lost to the man who stole his wife.
How could the woman he adored become so consumed by deceit, so willing to destroy him?
The betrayal was an agonizing wound, the sheer injustice leaving him hollowed out, utterly lost, and questioning his own sanity.
Stripped of everything-his home, his career, his dignity, and any shred of trust-Ethan realized there was no fight left.
He fled Aspen Ridge, a broken man, seeking refuge and silence, determined to forge a new future built on cold pragmatism, far from the ashes of his past. Where Concrete Daisies Bloom
Romance I' d finally done it.
My resignation letter officially landed on Mr. Henderson' s expensive mahogany desk, putting a ruthless period on years of being Ethan Cole' s secret convenience.
But freedom was fleeting.
Isabella, his fiancée and my tormentor, summoned me to Ethan' s TriBeCa penthouse, wielding an old, whimsical sketch of mine like a weapon, then slapped me clean across the face.
Ethan arrived, and instead of defending me, he smoothed Isabella' s perfect, glistening fake tears, dismissing me as someone who "meant nothing" -just "a release."
Emboldened, Isabella snatched my portfolio, spilling my architectural dreams-designs for community centers-and pouring red wine directly onto them, staining my future crimson.
Ethan then tossed a wad of cash at my feet, his voice flat: "For the dry cleaning. Now get out."
I stumbled out into the New York downpour, each raindrop a tiny hammer pounding home the gut-wrenching humiliation of being so utterly worthless to the man I' d loved.
How could he, the center of my naive world, watch as my dignity and dreams were drowned in wine, then casually toss money as if I were a broken possession?
But in that deepest moment of despair, something snapped.
I was done being their discarded convenience, their emotional punching bag; I would disappear and rebuild a life where my peace wasn' t for sale, no matter what it took. You might like
Wrong Room: Sleeping With My Fiancé's Uncle
Natala O'neal To revenge herself on her unfaithful fiancé Kevin, Isidora hides her striking beauty behind a plain disguise, and targets his uncle - the most formidable man Kevin fears.
After one reckless night, Isidora leaves cash as payment and says lightly, "You were good last night." She tries to leave quietly, but is pulled into his arms.
"You think you can walk away after this?" he says, his tone low and possessive.
Cedrick is a feared, untouchable titan on Wall Street - elegant, aloof, and completely uninterested in women. Not even the most beautiful socialites in the city can catch his eye. When gossip spreads that he was seen pressing a woman against a wall and kissing her fiercely, no one believes it.
When the rumors name Isidora, the crowd scoffs. He rejects even the most beautiful women, so why would he notice a plain girl like her?
All doubt disappears when they see the dignified Cedrick drop to one knee to help Isidora with her shoe, pleading softly for just one kiss.
When Kevin finally sees Isidora's true beauty and begs for forgiveness. But Cedrick kicks him out at once, slams a marriage certificate on the table, and says sharply.
"Call her Aunt." The Jilted Wife Is A Secret Heiress
Zi Ya The Wellington beef sat cold on the mahogany table, a graying monument to three years of wasted devotion. It was my birthday and our anniversary, but my husband, Hamilton McKee, didn't even look at the gift I’d spent months knitting.
"Our marriage is a transaction," he said, his voice cutting like a scalpel. "Stop trying to make it a romance novel. I just need you to stop existing in my space for five minutes."
Then his phone buzzed with a call from Cuba, the ex-girlfriend he never truly left. His cold mask shattered into frantic concern, a look he had never once given me. "I'm coming," he whispered to her, sprinting for the door without a backward glance at the wife he was leaving behind.
I chased him into the freezing Boston night, only to be swarmed by predatory paparazzi. As Hamilton’s Maybach roared away, a heavy camera bag slammed into my shoulder. I slipped on the black ice, my skull hitting a granite gate pillar with a sickening crack.
Warm blood trickled down my neck, and as the world tilted, the fog in my brain finally cleared. I wasn't the penniless orphan from Southie he thought I was. Images of sterile operating rooms, complex sutures, and a billion-dollar inheritance flooded back—along with the memory of the car wreck three years ago where I was the one who pulled Hamilton from the flames, not Cuba.
How could I have spent three years begging for scraps of affection from a man who didn't even recognize his own savior? Why did I let a fraud steal my life while I played the role of a submissive shadow?
When I woke up in the hospital, the trembling girl was gone. I ripped the IV from my arm and stared at the man who had come back only to demand I stay out of his way. I didn't cry. I didn't beg. I simply handed him a piece of paper with one word written in the sharp, confident script of a woman who owned half the city: DIVORCE.
"Sign it, Hamilton," I said, my voice like ice. "Because by tomorrow, I’m not just leaving you—I’m taking the McKee empire with me." Pampered By The Ruthless Tycoon Guardian
Julian Reid Kenzie, the former leader of the Aegis Alliance, opened her eyes to find herself reincarnated as a freezing, abandoned infant in a wet cardboard box.
She was rescued from the rain by Devin Ayers, a ruthless billionaire, and rushed to a private hospital, but a deadly threat was already waiting for her.
The ER doctor, Desiree Dillon, approached her with a syringe. Through a sudden burst of telepathy, Kenzie read the doctor's dark thoughts. Desiree wasn't trying to cure her fever. She deliberately ignored the safe dosage, drawing a lethal amount of Diazepam to permanently silence the crying baby and disguise it as sudden infant death.
"This will make it all go away," Desiree smiled gently, the needle glinting as it moved inches from Kenzie's arm.
Trapped in a weak, paralyzed three-month-old body, Kenzie couldn't run, fight, or even speak. She could only watch the poison inch closer.
How could she survive death only to be assassinated in a hospital bed by a corrupt doctor? She used to command armies. The sheer injustice and terror of dying completely helpless in this tiny body ignited a blinding rage inside her.
Refusing to be a victim again, Kenzie pushed her newborn brain to its absolute limit and unleashed a desperate telepathic scream directly into the billionaire's mind.
"Poison! She's trying to kill me!"
Devin, who had been looking away, suddenly froze, his icy gray eyes locking onto the doctor's wrist. From Prison Cell To Billionaire's Target
Jv Lingxian The freezing rain lashed against my face as I clung to the iron gates of the Hendrix estate, begging for a chance to prove I didn't kill my best friend.
I had come here for mercy, but the man I had secretly loved for years had a different plan. He didn't want to hear my truth; he wanted to see me broken.
As the sun rose, the estate manager delivered the final blow. He shoved Emery’s phone into my face, showing a forged text message that framed me for her death, then turned his back as the gates slammed shut.
My own family didn't offer a lifeline, either. When the police came for me, my parents didn't fight for my innocence; they chose to disown me to save their bank accounts from Alfredo’s wrath.
I was thrown into Rikers Island, stripped of my dignity, and subjected to years of calculated, brutal torture paid for by the man who once held my heart.
How could the person I loved turn my life into a private slaughterhouse based on a lie?
After three years of hell, I walked out of those prison gates with nothing but a scarred body and a hollow soul. The woman who loved Alfredo Hendrix died in that cell. Now, I’m back in the city where it all began, and I’m done hiding. I Slapped My Fiancé-Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis
Jessica C. Dolan Being second best is practically in my DNA. My sister got the love, the attention, the spotlight. And now, even her damn fiancé.
Technically, Rhys Granger was my fiancé now-billionaire, devastatingly hot, and a walking Wall Street wet dream. My parents shoved me into the engagement after Catherine disappeared, and honestly? I didn't mind. I'd crushed on Rhys for years. This was my chance, right? My turn to be the chosen one?
Wrong.
One night, he slapped me. Over a mug. A stupid, chipped, ugly mug my sister gave him years ago. That's when it hit me-he didn't love me. He didn't even see me. I was just a warm-bodied placeholder for the woman he actually wanted. And apparently, I wasn't even worth as much as a glorified coffee cup.
So I slapped him right back, dumped his ass, and prepared for disaster-my parents losing their minds, Rhys throwing a billionaire tantrum, his terrifying family plotting my untimely demise.
Obviously, I needed alcohol. A lot of alcohol.
Enter him.
Tall, dangerous, unfairly hot. The kind of man who makes you want to sin just by existing. I'd met him only once before, and that night, he just happened to be at the same bar as my drunk, self-pitying self. So I did the only logical thing: I dragged him into a hotel room and ripped off his clothes.
It was reckless. It was stupid. It was completely ill-advised.
But it was also: Best. Sex. Of. My. Life.
And, as it turned out, the best decision I'd ever made.
Because my one-night stand isn't just some random guy. He's richer than Rhys, more powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be playing with.
And now, he's not letting me go. His Accidental Cure: The Runaway Contract Wife
Norrra I was drugged and sent to a hotel room to be compromised, but I ended up in the presidential suite with a stranger.
I didn't know the man I clung to in my hallucinogenic haze was my own husband, Devaughn Winters, a man I hadn't spoken to in a year.
When I woke up the next morning, the terror of what I’d done hit me like a physical blow. I fled, leaving behind nothing but a shredded dress and a lingering sense of dread.
I thought I’d finally escaped the cold, suffocating contract of our marriage when I signed the divorce papers, but I was wrong.
My mother-in-law arrived at my apartment, freezing my sick mother’s medical funds and threatening to ruin me for the "infidelity" she claimed I’d committed.
She dragged my secrets into the light, leaving me with no choice but to fight back with a knife in my hand and a 911 call on speaker.
But just as I thought I was free, the man I’d spent the night with—the man who was supposed to be my stranger—tore up our divorce papers and declared that I was his to keep.
I was a pawn in a game I didn't understand, trapped between a ruthless father who wanted to sell me for corporate secrets and a husband who demanded I belong to him in life and in death.
How did he not know who I was that night, and why is he suddenly claiming me as his own?
I’m done being a victim, and if he thinks he can own me, he’s about to find out exactly what happens when a cornered woman decides to burn it all down. Discarded By Him, Claimed By The Zillionaire
TESS WHITE I was Landon Mercer's secret girlfriend and loyal assistant for four years. I thought my absolute devotion would eventually win his heart.
But he casually announced his engagement to a wealthy heiress, reminding me I was just a convenient nobody from an orphanage.
When I got trapped in a horrific car crash and begged him to call an ambulance, he just hung up on me, annoyed that my bleeding was ruining his romantic getaway.
He even blackmailed me with my orphanage's land lease, forcing me to attend his engagement party as a prop.
At the party, his elite family and friends brutally humiliated me.
They deliberately crushed my broken arm, poured red wine over my head, and kicked me into a freezing pond.
When Landon finally pulled me out, he didn't care that I was suffocating and turning blue.
"Are you out of your mind? You come out here and cause a scene during my engagement party?"
He threw a stack of cash at my shivering body, furious that I had embarrassed him in front of his wealthy guests.
Looking at the hundred-dollar bills floating in the muddy water, my four years of foolish love completely died.
To him, I wasn't even human; I was just a cheap toy he could abuse and pass around.
I didn't cry, and I didn't beg.
I dragged my soaked, battered body into a car and headed straight to the penthouse of his biggest billionaire rival.
It was time to burn Landon Mercer's world to the ground. His Unwanted Wife: The Genius's Spectacular Comeback
Lan Zixin For seven years, I was the perfect wife to Denny Sanford and the brilliant CTO who built the core technology of his billion-dollar empire.
But at my brother-in-law's memorial service, I hid behind a velvet curtain in the study and caught my husband passionately kissing the grieving widow, Brittany.
They weren't just having an affair. Brittany was pregnant with Denny's child.
"Once the paternity test confirms the baby is a Sanford heir, we control everything," she whispered.
"Christa is brilliant with data, but clueless with people. She's completely harmless," Denny sneered, dismissing me as a convenient tool.
My world shattered. Under his protection, Brittany had already stolen the credit and millions of dollars in consulting fees for my patents. To maintain his perfect facade, Denny even abandoned our six-year-old daughter's championship to hold his mistress's hand through a fake hospital visit.
I had sacrificed my days and nights to build his company, only to realize my entire marriage was a calculated lie designed to fund his second family. He thought my scientific detachment made me blind, stupid, and weak.
Harmless? I smiled coldly in the dark, backed up every server log proving my intellectual property, and messaged the most ruthless divorce attorney in New York. If he wanted to build his future on stolen data, I would show him exactly how a scientist dismantles a flawed experiment. Flash Marriage To The Secret Billionaire
William Jafferson My mother called me a defective product and insisted I marry Preston Finch, a man who treated our first date like a corporate merger.
During our lunch, Preston demanded I clean his car like a servant, his arrogance snapping the last thread of my patience.
I threw my iced coffee right into his lap, sending the cafe into a stunned silence as he screamed insults about my background and the cost of his designer pants.
My mother didn't care about the abuse; she only cared that I had lost a "catch," calling me an embarrassment and threatening my future while my flower shop faced imminent foreclosure.
Trapped by debt and my family’s relentless cruelty, I felt like a drowning woman with nowhere left to turn.
Just as I hit rock bottom, Connor Powers—my brother's old roommate—stepped in, his icy gaze promising a brutal end to my misery.
"Let's get married," he said, offering a cold, calculated contract that would shield me from my family forever.
I signed the papers, unaware that I had just tethered my life to a man whose world was far more dangerous than I could have ever imagined. Claimed By My Ex-Fiancé's Ruthless Uncle
Haley I was the "perfect" fiancée for Harrison Vincent—regal, silent, and low-maintenance. For two years, I suppressed my career as a forensic accountant to be the "safe" choice that polled well with his family’s shareholders.
But at a high-society gala, I found him in a VIP lounge with a socialite wrapped around him. He told her I was just a "boring art piece display stand" he had to drag around until his trust fund was unlocked.
I didn't scream or make a scene. I mentally filed a "bad debt" report, tossed my emerald engagement ring into a glass of stale champagne, and walked out of his life. That same night, I found myself in a dark jazz club bathroom, using a strip of my velvet dress to stop the bleeding of a mysterious man with a gunshot wound and eyes like grey flint.
The fallout was immediate. Harrison blocked my credit cards, assuming I’d crawl back once I couldn't afford rent. His mother called me a "nobody" while simultaneously begging me to handle the family's medical emergencies because they were too panicked to function. They treated me like a tool they could discard and pick up at will, never realizing I had already moved my things into a cramped Brooklyn apartment.
I couldn't understand why they thought I was still their puppet, or why a black Maybach began following me through the city streets. I had saved a stranger's life and ended a toxic engagement, yet the air around me felt heavier and more dangerous than ever.
The truth came out at the hospital when the most feared man in the city stepped out of the shadows. It was the man from the bathroom—Collis Vincent, the ruthless head of the family. He didn't just humiliate Harrison; he took my hand in front of everyone and made a chilling declaration.
"Harrison is a fool to have let you go, Helena. Your arrangement with him is terminated. From now on, you'll be working with me." 
/1/114256/coverorgin.jpg?v=669a5c7e37e5113451d200415504b87a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/114004/coverorgin.jpg?v=0d6c34d29271029ec3bf694d4eb0a598&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/99369/coverorgin.jpg?v=bf2cd13f94cc05719fd533ee69741a9f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/94123/coverorgin.jpg?v=7154867ff0468c66f5e4a9be33ef73ed&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/93261/coverorgin.jpg?v=e9085ac075f69d536a62d3e1be350496&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/86510/coverorgin.jpg?v=4fdfcf5ae25ac23a530c8cab5a496511&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/86228/coverorgin.jpg?v=6ebce3d6b1d777c24a0f4f3049b5cc37&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/85732/coverorgin.jpg?v=204b5c3da39c85d793434e522ec9d5ae&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/85727/coverorgin.jpg?v=e8ea037260f68b08d5f6c04c68cf82ab&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/84497/coverorgin.jpg?v=6e2bbf844ac58f56714898e48b502885&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/81856/coverorgin.jpg?v=1042ce9533f26e96703098da7eb715e0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/81746/coverorgin.jpg?v=a39eb0d964aaf93bfb13cbc42f6444a4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/110451/coverorgin.jpg?v=2820de6fa805c709de688f2d653ccf9e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/113338/coverorgin.jpg?v=bca0d3ad477281cababf38dd09f47622&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/113689/coverorgin.jpg?v=632fb8201d3e2088f2bacda6b2fc33bc&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/113068/coverorgin.jpg?v=32b8d95d2ac83593a514efb66dd15678&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/82937/coverorgin.jpg?v=2907194aa510c647b04f7cba8770d5c5&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/113085/coverorgin.jpg?v=9db7bbdbf00e6f93f0638c9f348c07af&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/112787/coverorgin.jpg?v=bdd683d05c41c30b98bdff89f4642393&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/112596/coverorgin.jpg?v=8c78295cee82275fd9ff65c955f20bbe&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/113090/coverorgin.jpg?v=022cc07114d8ffc014ac53d2889aeac4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/107484/coverorgin.jpg?v=82bf8ac16f90870b0698cac2cb499583&imageMogr2/format/webp)