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Bought By The Coldhearted Media Mogul

Chapter 5 No.5

Word Count: 822 | Released on: 13/01/2026

that pierced the Manhattan sky. To Cinthia, standing at th

rity guard, Ralph, 's eyes flickered up from his newspaper for a fraction of a second, a fli

" she whispered.

Clemons stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, l

ried. The morality clause in the trust is satisfied. My v

in, cleared his throat. "

Or 'Mrs. Clemons'. It's a merger, Miles. A hos

se shares. If I don't lock this down today, he gets the Media d

s said. He hesitat

an interrupted

into her cubicle. Her heart was hamme

e late

, dropped a stack of files onto Cinth

mbled, keeping her

st three of Cinthia's paychecks. "The big boss is on a warpath tod

ught. I'm not just an employe

k rang. The red line. Th

ning sugary sweet. "Yes, Mr. Cle

ing into a sneer. "Sarah is in the bathroom and I

roze. "Ta

p floor. He's s

oice squeaked. "C

eep your job?" Gi

he tray from the breakroom counter. The bla

loor number that lit up felt like a coun

oors

le oak doors. When he saw Cinthia step

whispered. "Wha

thia whispered back.

voice roared from

look that was half pity, half go

eath. She pushed the d

r. "Tell Darryl if he even looks at the publishing arm, I'll bury

he plush carpet. She set the c

the phone down.

What too

sto

n he looked at the do

s floor?" he demanded. His

tammered. "I bro

ook a step toward her. "Did you think signing a paper gave you the right to wander my headquar

Sir

until I send for you. You don't belong on

es of their arrangement. The fact that she was an employee only made it worse in

ana sent me, but the look in his ey

he whispered. Sh

e stopped her

!" he

peared i

k. "Get the Prenup over here. Now. She signs it today

Chapter End

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Bought By The Coldhearted Media Mogul

Snooty Modern

“My bank account was four hundred dollars in the red when my brother called me screaming from the most exclusive club in Manhattan. He said he was going to be killed or arrested, and I was the only one who could save him from the mess he'd made. When I arrived at The Onyx, I found my brother on his knees, accused of assaulting a high-profile socialite. But instead of begging for my help, he pointed a shaking finger at me and screamed, "It was her! My sister set the whole thing up because she wanted money!" The man watching the chaos from the shadows was Adrian Clemons-the billionaire CEO of the company where I worked as a lowly assistant. He didn't look at me with pity; he looked at me with a profound, exhausted disgust, as if I were a stain on his expensive rug. To save his own skin, my brother didn't just lie; he offered me up like a piece of tradeable property. "She'll do anything," he pleaded with the billionaire. "She's clean, she's obedient. Just don't send me to jail!" Adrian didn't call the police. Instead, he made a cold, terrifying business proposal: "Lend her to me for one year. I wipe your debt, and the cops stay away." My brother didn't even blink before he snapped, "Done. Take her." I was whisked away to City Hall in a silent Rolls Royce, signing a marriage license before I could even process the betrayal. I wasn't a bride; I was a "human asset" bought to help a cold-blooded monster secure his inheritance. The moment my hand accidentally brushed his during the signing, he recoiled as if I were contagious, his face turning a ghostly, panicked white. He made it clear that I was nothing more than a prop, a girl from the slums meant to spite his elitist mother. As the heavy iron gates of the Clemons estate slammed shut behind me that night, I realized I hadn't just saved my brother. I had entered a golden cage owned by a man who hated my touch, but owned my life for the next three hundred and sixty-five days.”