icon 0
icon TOP UP
rightIcon
icon Reading History
rightIcon
icon Sign out
rightIcon
icon Get the APP
rightIcon

The Billionaire's Cruelty, My Secret Daughter

Chapter 3 No.3

Word Count: 799    |    Released on: 05/12/2025

lled of cabbage a

d flight, her muscles screaming. She was w

the mat was sticky. She turned it

a hot plate in the corner, and a window that didn't close all the way

own water sputtered out, coughing like a dy

mattress. It cr

ck her bank account. Julian had

t Frozen. Contact Van

ined from her

dollars in cas

tant. She used the landline in the hallway,

ce," Raymond answer

s Seraphina. My account is froz

d said coldly. "Harassing Mr. Vanderbilt with phone calls violated t

I'll starve! Raymond, please, I need

said it. I'

he accuse her of faking it? Or worse, would he t

You are young and healthy. Find a j

ne wen

the receiver. She wa

e needed prenatal vitamins, and she needed

st of it had been left behind, but she was wearing her dia

bars on the windows. The man behind the co

acing the diamonds on the glass. "T

nd. "Market's flooded, sweetie. And

bbery," sh

n, princess. Take

the eight

d for fifty dollars. She paid the landlord three hundred for the deposit he demanded upon arrival. She p

ndred and fifty dollars. To

day. The waiting room was full of c

cold gel on her stomach,

, black and white sta

oosh. Who

eat. Str

illiams said. "A

retty crying of a socialite, but th

the picture?" the

At the tiny bean that was half

hina lied. "He d

e a baggy hoodie she had bought at a

er on the corner. Hel

his apron, looked at her hands. Her manicured n

last a day,

ed him in the

ter scalded her skin. The steel wool tore at he

t, the manager handed

d at the sandwich in the cooler. Then

ht the v

glass of boiled tap w

e whispered t

Claim Your Bonus at the APP

Open
The Billionaire's Cruelty, My Secret Daughter
The Billionaire's Cruelty, My Secret Daughter
“The thunder cracked over the Hamptons, but it was nothing compared to Elena Sharp's scream. She lay twisted on the marble foyer, accusing me of trying to kill her baby. My husband, Julian, walked in, saw the scene, and his eyes froze me out of his life forever. He didn't listen, shoving a separation agreement across the desk, accusing me of murder. Stripped of my name and home, I was thrown out, left with nothing but my clothes and a terrifying secret growing inside me. My accounts frozen, I ended up in a crumbling Philadelphia row house, forced to pawn heirlooms. During a fire, my water broke, and I delivered our premature daughter, June, whose lungs were damaged. I stole formula to feed her, facing massive medical bills. Accused of destroying an heir, I was exiled while carrying his true legacy, fighting for every breath. The injustice burned, but June's life was my only fight. Three years later, June needed life-saving surgery. Julian's dying grandmother called me back with the funds, forcing a cruel charade with the man who hated me, a man still oblivious to his daughter.”