Bought By The Man Who Hates Me

Bought By The Man Who Hates Me

Dolorita Drinker

5.0
Comment(s)
View
150
Chapters

I sat at a mahogany table in River Oaks, clutching the strap of a pilled black dress from a life I'd lost five years ago. I was an exile in a world of old money, just trying to survive a dinner party I didn't belong in. Then the doors opened, and Baron Lowery walked in. He was no longer the boy I'd loved, but a powerful man with eyes like a storm front. When the host asked if we'd met, Baron didn't even blink. "I don't know her," he said. The erasure was a physical blow. His new girlfriend spent the night mocking my "quaint" legal aid work and calling me a washed-up gold digger. Baron didn't defend me; he watched my humiliation with a cold, predatory stillness. During a game of Truth or Dare, he stared me down, waiting for a confession. To protect his career and the secret of my father's federal crimes, I looked him in the eye and told the ultimate lie: "No regrets." He retaliated by pinning me against a concrete wall in a dark stairwell, crushing his mouth to mine in a kiss that felt like a punishment. He told me I wasn't worth the effort and left me. I retreated to my real life-a moldy trailer and a blackmailer named Harvey who was forcing me into a marriage to save my father from prison. I thought I'd hit rock bottom until Baron's silver Bentley pulled up to my slum. He didn't come to apologize. He flipped open a checkbook, scribbled fifty thousand dollars, and held it out like I was a common streetwalker. "One night," he demanded. "Do whatever I say, and it's yours." I looked at the man I'd sacrificed my entire soul for and realized he'd finally become the monster I'd tried to save him from. I shoved the check back in his face and ran into the rain, leaving the billionaire staring at the trailer park, unable to understand why the "gold digger" he hated so much wouldn't take his money.

Chapter 1 1

Under the table, she felt a sudden, hard pressure against her shin. Baron had stretched his legs out, his expensive leather shoe resting against the leg of her chair, boxing her in. It was a warning. He might claim not to know her, but he had no intention of letting her go. The subtle aggression sent a tremor through her, a stark contrast to the polite murmur of the dining room just moments before.

Bethel Stout adjusted the thin strap of her black dress, her fingers brushing against the rough texture where the fabric had begun to pill. She tucked a loose thread under the hem, hoping the dim lighting of the restaurant would forgive the garment's age. It was a dress from another life, one of the few things she had kept from before the fall.

Beside her, Chynna Kerr was a whirlwind of expensive perfume and nervous energy. Chynna gripped Bethel's arm, her manicured nails digging slightly into Bethel's skin.

"Preston says this guy is a big deal," Chynna whispered, her voice bubbling with excitement. "Like, D.C. royalty big deal. He flew in just for the project launch."

Bethel forced a smile, though her stomach felt like it was filled with stones. She didn't belong here. River Oaks was a world of old money and silent judgments, a world she had been exiled from five years ago.

"I'm sure he's charming," Bethel said, her voice sounding hollow to her own ears.

The heavy mahogany doors to the private dining room swung open. A waiter in a crisp white jacket held the door, ushering them into the cool, conditioned air. The sound of clinking crystal and low, confident laughter washed over them.

Bethel followed Chynna inside. Her heels sank into the thick Persian rug, muffling her steps. The light from the crystal chandelier overhead was aggressive, reflecting off the silverware and the polished wine glasses. Bethel lowered her chin, an instinctual habit she had developed over the last few years to avoid drawing attention.

Preston Yates stood up from the head of the long table. He was beaming, his face flushed with wine and success. He opened his arms to Chynna.

"There she is," Preston announced. "The future Mrs. Yates."

He hugged Chynna, then nodded politely at Bethel. Bethel returned the nod, her eyes scanning the room, seeking the safest corner to retreat to. Her gaze drifted down the length of the table, past the floral centerpieces, toward the shadows at the far end.

A man was sitting there. He was swirling a glass of amber liquid, his attention seemingly focused on the way the light caught the whiskey.

Bethel's heart seized. It was a physical blow, a sudden, violent contraction that stopped her breath in her throat. The blood in her veins turned to ice.

He turned his head.

Baron Lowery looked exactly the same, and yet entirely different. The soft edges of his youth were gone, replaced by a jawline that looked like it had been carved from granite. His dark hair was shorter, sharper. But it was his eyes-gray like a storm front-that pinned her to the spot.

Five years. It had been five years since she had destroyed him to save him.

He didn't blink. He didn't gasp. He just stared, his gaze tracking her with a predatory stillness.

Bethel took a step back, her instinct to flee overriding every social protocol she knew. She turned slightly, but the waiter had already closed the heavy doors behind her. The latch clicked shut with a sound that echoed like a prison lock in her mind.

She was trapped.

Baron's expression shifted. The initial flicker of recognition vanished, replaced by a coldness so profound it made her shiver. He looked at her not with anger, but with a terrifying void of emotion.

Bethel pressed her fingernails into her palms. The sharp bite of pain was the only thing keeping her grounded. Breathe, she commanded herself. Do not let him see you bleed.

"Everyone, listen up," Preston's voice boomed, oblivious to the tension that had just sucked the oxygen out of the room. "I want to introduce our guest of honor. Fresh from D.C., the man making sure our thrusters don't blow up on the pad, Baron Lowery."

A ripple of polite applause and murmurs of admiration went around the table. The air smelled of roasted meat and power.

Baron didn't stand. He didn't smile. He simply raised his glass in a lazy, mocking salute. His posture was arrogant, taking up space with the ease of a man who owned every room he walked into.

"Come on, sit," Chynna urged, pulling Bethel toward two empty chairs.

Bethel's legs felt like rubber. Fate, in its cruelty, had placed their seats directly across from him. Every step toward the table felt like walking on the edge of a blade.

As she approached, a woman sitting next to Baron leaned into him. She was stunning, with sleek dark hair and diamonds that caught the light. Clarissa Melendez. Bethel recognized the name from the society pages. Clarissa placed a possessive hand on Baron's forearm, whispering something in his ear.

Baron didn't pull away.

A sour taste rose in Bethel's throat. Jealousy, sharp and pathetic, twisted in her gut. She had no right to it, but it was there, burning her.

Bethel sat down. She kept her eyes on the white tablecloth, refusing to look up. She reached for her water glass, her hand trembling just enough to spill a few drops onto the pristine linen.

Across the table, Baron made a sound. It was a soft, short scoff.

Bethel froze. She watched the water stain spread on the cloth, dark and ugly.

"So," Preston said, sitting back down. "Do you two know each other? Houston is a small town, after all."

Bethel's mouth opened. Her throat was so dry the sides stuck together. She had to say something. She had to navigate this minefield without detonating the secret she had guarded for half a decade.

"I-"

"No," a deep voice cut through the air.

Baron spoke the word with a gravelly finality. He wasn't looking at Preston. He was looking directly at Bethel.

"I don't know her," Baron said.

The lie hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. It wasn't just a denial; it was an erasure. He was looking at the woman he had once planned to marry, the woman he had lived with, and he was deleting her from his existence.

Bethel lowered her head, accepting the blow. Her heart felt like it was cracking open, ribs splitting apart under the pressure.

"Nice to meet you," she whispered to the tablecloth.

Continue Reading

Other books by Dolorita Drinker

More
The Billionaire's Rival: My Sweet Revenge

The Billionaire's Rival: My Sweet Revenge

Modern

5.0

I had spent two years playing the perfect Stepford Wife to billionaire Brittain Kane, acting as the obedient accessory while he built his empire. I played the fool until I found his second phone, the one filled with messages and photos of a nineteen-year-old hostess. Determined to balance the scales, I checked into the Pierre Hotel and spent twenty-five thousand dollars to hire a high-end male escort. I wanted one night of rebellion to wash away the two years of humiliation and finally even the score. But when the heavy footsteps stopped outside my door, the man who walked in wasn’t the professional I had booked. It was Harrison Juarez—my husband’s most ruthless business rival and supposed "best friend." He stood there in a suit that cost more than my car, holding a screenshot of my scandalous booking on his phone. My blood turned to ice as I realized my carefully constructed exit plan was over. He had the proof, the leverage, and the power to leave me with nothing in a divorce. He mocked my "cheap courage" and told me that sleeping with a hired hand wouldn't hurt a man like Brittain; he’d just pay the guy off and buy me a new car to shut me up. The fear inside me snapped, replaced by a cold, hard clarity. I looked at the man who held my life in his hands and realized he wasn't there to expose me. He was there because he was petty, effective, and wanted to destroy Brittain just as much as I did. "If you really want to make Brittain Kane lose his mind," Harrison whispered, his voice rough against my ear, "you don't need a gigolo. You need me." I didn't hesitate. I reached into my bag, pulled out my husband’s black Centurion card, and tossed it at my husband's greatest enemy. I told him to book the most expensive penthouse in the city, because if I was going to ruin my marriage, I was going to do it on Brittain’s dime with the one man he feared most.

The Unlucky Twin's Unseen Path

The Unlucky Twin's Unseen Path

Romance

5.0

From the moment I was born, a tiny, almost invisible birthmark behind my left ear sealed my fate. My mother, living by old superstitions, saw it as a bad omen, setting me apart from my identical twin, Sophia. She became the family favorite, showered with love and opportunity, while I became the "unlucky" one, living in her shadow with a nanny on a forgotten corner of our estate. Then, the unimaginable happened: Liam Davis, the adopted son of a powerful political figure, was at our family dinner, when he was never supposed to be there. And Sophia, my identical twin, who was supposed to marry the tech CEO Ethan Vance, shocked everyone by declaring her choice: she would marry Liam Davis. Sophia, with a smug, triumphant smile, later cornered me, "I told you I wanted your life. This time, I'm taking the right path from the beginning. Liam's power, his influence... it will all be mine. You can have the bankrupt tech genius." Her words chillingly confirmed it: she remembered everything from our first life, just like me. In that past life, I was married off to Liam Davis, a cold, distant man whose political ambition was built on secrets and ruthless tactics. His rise to power was bloody, leaving me a shield against his enemies and enduring constant humiliation in the shadows. Sophia had seen only the glamorous result, not the treacherous path, blindly envying my hard-won position. She thought marrying Liam was her shortcut to the life she deserved. Now, she believed she was seizing a better future, unaware that she was stepping into the very hell I had endured. She had chosen Liam, but she hadn't chosen the man he became with me. And I, the "unlucky" twin, was left with Ethan Vance, the supposed "bankrupt tech genius" destined for ruin. But I refused to be a passive victim again. This time, I knew the game, and I understood Sophia' s blindness. She wanted my old life? She could have it. Because this time, I would choose my own path. And maybe, just maybe, this "failed" marriage might hold a secret I never anticipated.

You'll also like

The Sterling Scandal: Married To The Uncle

The Sterling Scandal: Married To The Uncle

C.D
5.0

I was at my own engagement party at the Sterling estate when the world started tilting. Victoria Sterling, my future mother-in-law, smiled coldly as she watched me struggle with a cup of tea that had been drugged to ruin me. Before I could find my fiancé, Ryan, a waiter dragged me into the forbidden West Wing and locked me in a room with Julian Sterling, the family’s "fallen titan" who had been confined to a wheelchair for years. The door burst open to a frenzy of camera flashes and theatrical screams. Victoria framed me as a seductress caught in the act, and Ryan didn't even try to listen to my pleas, calling me "cheap leftovers" before walking away with his pregnant mistress. When I turned to my own family for help, my father signed a document severing our relationship for a five-million-dollar payout from Julian. They traded me like a commodity without a second thought. I didn't understand why my own parents were so eager to sell me, or how Ryan could look at me with such disgust after promising me forever. I was a sacrifice, a pawn used to protect the family's offshore accounts, and I couldn't fathom how every person I loved had a price tag for my destruction. With nowhere left to go, I married Julian in a bleak ceremony at City Hall. He slid a heavy diamond onto my finger and whispered, "We have a war to start." That night, inside his secret penthouse, I watched the paralyzed man stand up from his wheelchair and activate a screen filled with the Sterling family's darkest secrets. The execution had officially begun.

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book