Bitten By The Billionaire: My Darkest Night

Chapter 3 No.3

Word Count: 719 | Released on: 22/01/2026

n. A wave of neurological pain-the Storm-crashed over him. It started at the base of his skull, a sta

breathing through his nose.

e of the house, usually his s

on the console. The video of th

ere was a dissonance to her, a friction between who she pretende

oyer had picked up a trace. A

highlighted the dat

otential: High. Corti

nd. He imagined the warmth of it. For a split second, looking at her, the sta

chor. A mute button for

aspy. He typed a command into the

swing. She tossed the empty thermal bag o

right spot in this hellhole, wearing a t-shirt with a cart

her eyes scanning her for injuries. "

before pulling out a crumpled twenty-dollar bill. "He tipped," she said, offering Penny the bill

ight of the twenty, let alone t

n freezer. The heavy door thudded shut, cutting off the kitchen noise. The sud

lace is bad news. They call the owner the Ghost. Girls go into the Zone fo

aya asked, feigning n

ians. He owns the police. He's... wrong. My cousin deliver

ded slow

g at her shoes. "My mother... the med

. The "sick mother" car

hugged her tight. "Okay. But if you're ever late, even five

pang of genuine guilt. She was u

Wong's voice was muffled

back into the heat, but her mi

in the kitchen whirred to

g his sharp, pale features. He wasn't hungry. But the craving

into the deliv

uest: The

foyer via his console. Dimmer. More intimate.

mouse," he whispere

Chapter End

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Bitten By The Billionaire: My Darkest Night

Zhu Xiaying Modern

“I spent three weeks scrubbing carbonized grease off woks at the Jade Garden, hiding my elite tactical training behind raw knuckles and a practiced, submissive stutter. My mission was the only thing keeping me sane: finding my sister, Elena, who vanished into thin air after her phone last pinged near the city's Restricted Sector. The breakthrough came when my boss, a bully named Uncle Wong, forced me to take a delivery to 101 Blackwood Drive-a high-security fortress where the drivers whispered that people went in and never came back right. It was a geographic match for Elena's last known location, but as I rode my battered scooter toward the massive steel gates, I realized I wasn't just investigating a lead; I was walking into a spider's web. The mansion was a monolith of cold concrete and military-grade surveillance, owned by Hugh Bradford, a billionaire who controlled the city's elite like puppets. During my delivery, the magnetic locks hissed shut, the lights died, and I was plunged into absolute darkness with a predator who didn't want my money. Bradford pinned me against a stainless steel counter and did something unthinkable: he sank his teeth into my shoulder, using the rhythm of my frantic pulse to anchor his own fractured mind. I escaped with a bruised neck and a thousand-dollar "tip," feeling the crushing weight of his violation and the terrifying realization that my "clumsy immigrant" act hadn't fooled him for a second. I didn't understand why a man of his power would treat a delivery girl like a biological drug, or what he had done to the other girls who had vanished behind those black glass walls. My heart hammered against my ribs as I realized I was being hunted by a man who could buy and sell my life a thousand times over. "You're terrified," he had whispered in the dark, and for the first time in years, I wasn't faking it. Back in my apartment, I found a note tucked inside the cash that confirmed my worst fears: "For the inconvenience. See you Tuesday." He thinks he's found a new toy to play with, but he just gave me the one thing I needed to find my sister-an invitation to go back inside and finish what I started.”