Bride To Be

The Convict Heiress: Marrying The Billionaire

Rollins Laman

The heavy thud of the release stamp was the only goodbye I got from the warden after five years in federal prison. I stepped out into the blinding sun, expecting the same flash of paparazzi bulbs that had seen me dragged away in handcuffs, but there was only a single black limousine idling on the shoulder of the road. Inside sat my mother and sister, clutching champagne and looking at my frayed coat with pure disgust. They didn't offer a welcome home; instead, they tossed a thick legal document onto the table and told me I was dead to the city. "Gavin and I are getting engaged," my sister Mia sneered, flicking a credit card at me like I was a stray dog. "He doesn't need a convict ex-fiancée hanging around." Even after I saved their lives from an armed kidnapping attempt by ramming the attackers off the road, they rewarded me by leaving me stranded in the dirt. When I finally ran into Gavin, the man who had framed me, he pinned me against a wall and threatened to send me back to a cell if I ever dared to show my face at their wedding. They had stolen my biotech research, ruined my name, and let me rot for half a decade while they lived off my brilliance. They thought they had broken me, leaving me with nothing but an expired chapstick and a few old photos in a plastic bag. What they didn't know was that I had spent those five years becoming "Dr. X," a shadow consultant with five hundred million dollars in crypto and a secret that would bring the city to its knees. I wasn't just a victim anymore; I was a weapon, and I was pregnant with the heir they thought they had erased. I walked into the Melton estate and made an offer to the most powerful man in New York. "I'll save your grandfather's life," I told Horatio Melton, staring him down. "But the price is your last name. I'm taking back what's mine, and I'm starting with the man who thinks he's marrying my sister."

Modern Revenge Rebirth/Reborn Arranged marriage Revenge Personal growth

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••Luciana••

As I gazed out the windows, the stunning views of New York City captured my attention. I had just spent an entire day with Andrian, and we decided to take a drive under the stars. I cranked down the window of the Aston Martin DB11, inviting the soft night breeze to envelop us.

"When all this wedding madness settles down," he said, his voice calm and steady, "I'm going to take you somewhere peaceful-no phone calls, no guards, just us without anyone looking over our shoulders."

I turned to face him, a playful smile on my lips. "You keep saying that as if you can negotiate with fate." I chuckled at the thought.

"Maybe I already have," he said with a cheeky grin that made my heart flutter.

I couldn't help but smile back; he looked so dashing from the side. I could really picture him walking me down the aisle in just two weeks. Yet, I noticed his focus was fixed on the rearview mirror, and there was a seriousness etched on his face.

"Is something wrong?" I asked, a hint of concern creeping in.

"Nothing I can't handle," he replied, glancing at me, attempting to maintain that charming smile.

I followed his gaze to the mirror, then I stole another look outside, spotting nothing unusual except for a sleek black Mercedes that had been trailing us for quite some time. The playful warmth in my chest faded slightly, curiosity stirred within me.

"Is that car..." I began to voice my concern, but he interrupted sharply,

"The car isn't speeding up... I can't steer it any longer."

His heart thundered against his chest as the vehicle lurched violently to the side. The steering wheel quaked in his grasp, refusing to respond to his frantic maneuvers. A wave of panic washed over him-the dashboard flickered ominously, the engine howled fiercely, and no matter how he pressed the brake, the car only sped up.

He slammed his foot down on the pedal, desperate yet ineffective. The tires screamed against the pavement, and plumes of smoke billowed as he fought for control. Gritting his teeth, he strained against the wheel, his knuckles turning white-but this car had slipped from his command. It was being guided by an unseen force.

As he extended his hands to grab his phone from the dashboard, it slipped from his grip when the car suddenly veered again. I swiftly snatched it up.

"What should I do?" I pleaded, my mind racing.

"Call Roman!" he shouted, still wrestling with the steering.

I was overwhelmed, struggling to comprehend the chaos unfolding around us.

The phone rang twice without any answer.

"Oh no! Not today," he muttered quietly, but I caught his words.

I opened my mouth to respond, but the words eluded me. Growing up in the Sicilian Mafia for 24 years has taught me to be ready for the worst, but now that I'm facing reality, I realize that all those lessons are easier said than done.

"The black car is still tailing us, Andrian. Are we being pursued? What's wrong with it? Has it been hacked?" I blurted out in one breath.

"Yes, I've lost control of the vehicle; that black Mercedes behind us has taken over. Just stay calm, Luci." He said, though his face was etched with worry, he still managed to force a smile.

How can he find the strength to smile in a moment like this?

He wrestled with the steering wheel, his arms straining until they ached, his foot pounding on the brakes repeatedly, but the car wouldn't obey.

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