The billionaire is a Vigilante

Rejected Bride: Married To The Dragon King

Catlaina Sloggett

I knelt on the cold stone of the Dragon God Altar, waiting to marry Lord Harper Carney. It was my only chance to escape the gilded cage of my family. But when Harper finally arrived, he wasn't alone. His arm was wrapped tightly around my cousin, Hettie. Right in front of the entire court, he coldly announced that our marriage was a mistake. Hettie leaned into his embrace, wearing a triumphant smile while playing the innocent victim. The assembled nobles openly jeered at me. They mocked my greatest failing—that I was a worthless "Dragonless" born without the inner fire. My own father was furious, not at them, but at me. He demanded I go to Hettie's estate and beg for her forgiveness. When I refused, he threatened to cut off all my funds and revoke my only job at the Royal Scribes' Office. I was publicly abandoned, stripped of my dignity, and left with absolutely nothing. I didn't cry, and I didn't scream. Why should I be the one to apologize when they were the ones who betrayed me? For years, I had endured their abuse, treated like a pawn to be sacrificed at will. But looking at their smug faces, my despair turned into cold resolve. I took off my betrothal coronet and dropped it at Harper's feet, publicly nullifying the contract myself. I thought I would have to face the ruin alone, until a mysterious, powerful man with burning golden eyes stepped out of the shadows. "Marry me," he said. "I will be your shield, and we will crush them together."

Fantasy Suspense Hidden Identities Dragon

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Chloe ran a finger over the rim of a wine glass, checking for smudges.

There were none.

The candlelight flickered, casting a warm glow on the Beef Wellington she had spent all afternoon preparing. Its golden crust was perfect. Everything was perfect.

Tonight was their third wedding anniversary.

A dull ache pulsed in her lower back. She unconsciously reached back, her fingers tracing the faint, silvery line of a scar hidden beneath her silk dress. A permanent reminder of the kidney she had given him. The price she had paid for this marriage.

The clock on the wall chimed nine.

He was three hours late.

She picked up her phone. The last message on the screen was from her, sent this morning.

"I'll be waiting for you at home tonight."

No reply.

A small, bitter laugh escaped her lips. It was a sound with no humor in it. She placed the phone face down on the tablecloth, the small flame of hope inside her sputtering out, wax by painful wax.

Then, the sound. A soft beep-beep-beep from the electronic lock at the entryway.

Her breath caught.

She stood up so quickly the chair scraped against the marble floor. A smile, practiced and gentle, formed on her lips as she hurried toward the door, ready to welcome her husband.

The door swung open. Augustine Rhodes stood there, tall and imposing in a custom-tailored suit that probably cost more than a car. His face was as handsome and as cold as ever.

Chloe opened her mouth to speak, but the words died in her throat.

He wasn't alone.

Standing just behind him, partially shielded by his broad frame, was another woman.

Blonde, wavy hair. A pale, delicate face that looked perpetually on the verge of tears. Ashley Sharp. His first love.

Chloe's heart didn't just sink. It plummeted, a dead weight in her chest. Her eyes locked onto Ashley's hand, which rested protectively over a softly rounded belly.

Augustine's gaze swept past Chloe as if she were a piece of furniture. He walked into the living room, loosening his tie with a sharp tug.

His voice was flat, devoid of any emotion, as if he were discussing the weather.

"Ashley's pregnant. Her health isn't good. She'll be staying here from now on."

The words hit her like a physical blow. The air rushed out of her lungs. She felt the blood in her veins turn to ice.

She stared at him, her lips parting, but no sound came out. She was frozen.

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