Billionaire's Baby!

Billionaire's Baby!

Greatwrites

4.9
Comment(s)
184.3K
View
199
Chapters

Jane Austen and the wealthy magnate, Damien Wolfe, had a brief fling. However, this was not a consensual act as Jane had been drugged by her colleague in the movie industry. Now, the affluent businessman has threatened to sue Jane for sexual assault, claiming that she forced herself on him. Jane has no option but to agree to his demands, which include marrying him for the sake of her brother's medical expenses. The couple has decided to enter into a two-year marriage contract, with no physical intimacy or extramarital affairs. But, can they adhere to their agreement? And what will happen to Jane's new adversary, Ciara Tyla, who had drugged her?

Chapter 1 1

In a poorly lit hotel room, Jane Austen wriggled restlessly on the oversized bed, her body aching and her head pounding from the excessive alcohol she had consumed earlier.

As she took a deep breath, she noticed two figures standing near the bed, one of whom was actress Ciara Tyla and her manager, Salem Blue.

Realizing it was getting late, Jane attempted to get up, but was stopped by Ciara's impatient voice.

"She looks ready to go," Ciara remarked.

Confused, Jane wondered what Ciara meant by her comment.

Earlier that night, Jane had received a call from Salem to pick them up at the hotel, but upon arrival, Ciara had taken her to meet the producer and director and had given her alcohol until she became dizzy and disoriented.

Salem looked at Jane with sympathy and sighed, "It's a shame that such a beautiful girl is going to be used by Director Rebel."

Ciara, however, was dismissive and snide. "Don't sympathize with her. She's just a stuntwoman, it's her job."

Ciara then went on to explain how she had been offered a role by Director Rebel in exchange for sleeping with him, and how she was planning to do the same with Jane.

Jane was shocked and appalled by Ciara's plan, and wondered why she would be treated this way after all her hard work over the past six months.

Even though she was still feeling the effects of the alcohol, Jane knew she had to stand up for herself and refuse to be used in this way.

Just as she was about to rise and reveal their identities, Salem suddenly spoke up.

"Ciara, I've always been curious, you have no relation or connection with her, so why did you pay for her brother's medical treatment?"

Jane's heart sank slightly. Could there be something more to this?

"Help her? You're mistaken," Ciara chuckled. "I only spent 4 dollars to hire a rising star to give up her stardom and work as a stand-in actor for me for half a year without even paying her a cent. It was she who helped me."

Salem was taken aback. "You mean..."

"When I first heard the rumor that Director Kurt was interested in her pure looks and wanted to cast her as the lead, I took notice of her."

Salem knew which movie Ciara was referring to. It was said that the lead actress had not yet been confirmed, but it was only a matter of time before it was in Ciara's grasp.

"So, you designed her to be your substitute to conceal her identity?"

Ciara checked the time on her phone and hurriedly said, "Oh, it's almost time. I have to go. It wouldn't be good if I ran into Director Rebel."

Ciara nodded and turned to leave.

She thought about Salem's question, looked at Jane on the bed, and said nonchalantly, "Of course, it's not as simple as that. It's all because she offended someone she shouldn't have."

Continue Reading

Other books by Greatwrites

More

You'll also like

The Surgeon's Vow: Healing My Billionaire Husband

The Surgeon's Vow: Healing My Billionaire Husband

Qing Shui
5.0

I sat in the gray, airless room of the New York State Department of Corrections, my knuckles white as the Warden delivered the news. "Parole denied." My father, Howard Sterling, had forged new evidence of financial crimes to keep me behind bars. He walked into the room, smelling of expensive cologne, and tossed a black folder onto the steel table. It was a marriage contract for Lucas Kensington, a billionaire currently lying in a vegetative state in the ICU. "Sign it. You walk out today." I laughed at the idea of being sold to a "corpse" until Howard slid a grainy photo toward me. It showed a toddler with a crescent-moon birthmark—the son Howard told me had died in an incubator five years ago. He smiled and told me the boy's safety depended entirely on my cooperation. I was thrust into the Kensington estate, where the family treated me like a "drowned rat." They dressed me in mothball-scented rags and mocked my status, unaware that I was monitoring their every move. I watched the cousin, Julian, openly waiting for Lucas to die to inherit the empire, while the doctors prepared to sign the death certificate. I didn't understand why my father would lie about my son’s death for years, or what kind of monsters would use a child as a bargaining chip. The injustice of it burned in my chest as I realized I was just a pawn in a game of old money and blood. As the monitors began to flatline and the family started to celebrate their inheritance, I locked the door and reached into the hem of my dress. I pulled out the sharpened silver wires I’d fashioned in the prison workshop. They thought they bought a submissive convict, but they actually invited "The Saint"—the world’s most dangerous underground surgeon—into their home. "Wake up, Lucas. You owe me a life." I wasn't there to be a bride; I was there to wake the dead and burn their empire to the ground.

He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him

He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him

SHANA GRAY
4.5

The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her. Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. "Mr. Kensington," the nurse's voice cracked, "your wife... she's critical." A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. "Liam is in the shower," Seraphina's voice purred. "Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low." Then, Liam's bored voice: "If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning." Click. The line went dead. A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living. Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body. Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back.

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book