The Billionaire's Contract: Revenge On My Ex

Chapter 4 No.4

Word Count: 780 | Released on: 22/01/2026

ly cutting off the screaming of the paparazzi and the honkin

went to the back of her head, unclasping the mask. She pulled it off, revealing a

r, watching her with that same detached, analytical gaze. He reached int

skin. She wiped the greasepaint from her cheek. "I

screen. "Current headlines. Mckee stock is confused. The market doesn't know if Brandy Craig has reinvent

ather seat, closing her eyes for

n," Ish

r said, opening her eyes. "Not pregnancy. Not yet. Just... vague medical issues. It

d slowly. "

e I went off-script. I need a place to

ace," Isham sa

he bridge. The destination was the Rhodes Estate in the Hamptons-a sprawling

ron gates swung open. Servants

Rhodes," a butler sa

pine. It felt like a costume, heav

ckee Management office,

n't care what Twitter says! Fix it! Tell them it w

le. "Look at this comment," she whined. "'Brandy's legs looked different.

blue light of her monitor. She kept her head down, typing furiou

er phone, texting

ans' OB-GYN clinic last week. Wearing

Haywood

he phone under a stack

l this story. We say it was a stunt." Haywood ran a hand through his hair. "I nee

phone and dialed

And rang.

ey shared locations-a relic of their rel

sn't at the penthouse

s. At the coordinates

" he muttered. "Why would she be at Isham Rhode

asked, feign

at job tonight, babe. We made magic. Come home. We need to t

submerged in a marble tub filled with bubbles that smell

xt. I have a su

morless sound. She pre

the water. For the first time in forty-eight hours, she f

Chapter End

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The Billionaire's Contract: Revenge On My Ex

Grump Romance

“I was a top-tier model with a fiancé I trusted to manage every cent I earned. I thought we were building a life together until a blown fuse at the studio sent me home twenty minutes early. The silence of the penthouse was broken by a trail of clothes: Haywood's silk tie, then a red-soled stiletto that belonged to Brandy, the girl I had mentored like a sister. Through the bedroom door, I watched the man I loved tell his mistress that I was "yesterday's news" while they tangled in the sheets I had picked out six months ago. I didn't scream; I just turned to leave, but the betrayal went deeper than the bedroom. When I checked my banking app, my balance was exactly $12.45. Haywood had liquidated every holding account and savings entry I owned, using a "tax strategy" he'd convinced me of to steal my entire past. Within hours, the man who robbed me was planting stories in the press, claiming I was having a drug-fueled breakdown. He wanted me penniless, homeless, and discredited so no one would believe the truth. He even tried to force me into a "rehab" facility to silence me forever while he promoted his pregnant mistress. I stood on a New York curb with nothing left but a desperate, insane idea born from a headline on my phone. Isham Rhodes, the most ruthless CEO in the city, needed a wife by thirty to keep his empire, and I needed a shield to survive mine. "Mr. Rhodes, I hear you need a puppet," I said, intercepting him in the rain outside City Hall. "I don't want your love. I want a legal document that makes me untouchable." He didn't ask for a romance; he asked for my ID. Now, with a billionaire's black card in my pocket and a marriage certificate in my hand, I'm going back to the agency to take back everything they stole. The war has just begun.”