Bound By Revenge: His Unwilling Wife

Chapter 3 No.3

Word Count: 608 | Released on: 04/02/2026

tion. Not that Kingsley was trying to talk. He had his noise-canceling headphones on,

kyline faded, replaced by the dark, churning Atl

e stepped out, dragging her small suitcase. Kingsley didn't offer to help. He strod

s a fortress of concrete and g

ff waited at

an said. The butler. He looked

ngsley said, not stopping

e. Not Cassidy. A label

White walls, grey furniture, abstract art that looked like violent s

Wing, madam," the butler said

er. Separation. She

rom the staircase. He turned, looking down at

er blink

warmth. "Separate rooms would invite gossip. The staf

andle of her suitcase

tract," he interrup

as a sil

y sat at the head; Cassidy sat at the foot, miles away.

Kingsley asked suddenly, no

My father's? The l

ngsley said casually. "He stole fr

t the plate. "He made mistakes. But he never utilize

He dabbed his mouth with a

e. He stopped behind her chair. He placed his hands on the arms of h

desperation? You shattered my trust six years ago. You

ck of the chair, trying to put inches

lies for t

. "I have a video confe

us room with a half-eaten meal and a heart that

smelled like him-sandalwood and starch. The be

oked out at the black ocean. A flash

ame

is prison, the w

Chapter End

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Bound By Revenge: His Unwilling Wife

EstelleCramail Modern

“I was suffocating in a borrowed Valentino gown at the Met Gala, but it wasn't the corset that was killing me. It was the debt collector, Vargo, stalking me through the crowd like a wolf. Desperate to hide, I ducked into a private lounge and threw myself at the silhouette of a man sitting in the shadows, pressing my lips to his in a frantic plea for cover. When I pulled back, the air turned to ice; I was staring into the ocean-blue eyes of Kingsley Osborn, the billionaire who believed I'd sold his company secrets six years ago. Kingsley didn't save me; he trapped me. The next morning, he slid a "Marriage Service Agreement" across his desk, revealing he knew everything about my father's illegal Ponzi scheme and the quarter-million dollars I owed to loan sharks. He offered to pay my debts and protect my father, but only if I signed over two years of my life to be his trophy wife. "I don't want your money, Cassidy. I want your life." The marriage was a cold, calculated war. He forced me into his glass fortress, banned me from contacting my friends, and treated me with a distilled hatred that felt like a physical weight. When I accidentally broke his grandfather's vintage watch during a nightmare, he didn't see an accident-he saw a crime, threatening to destroy my father if I didn't "charm" his board of directors into submission. I was a prisoner in a three-piece suit, until I found a mislabeled file buried in his company's server. It contained evidence of a massive, illegal hostile takeover that would ruin Kingsley if the Feds ever saw it. I held the gun that could destroy the man who had cornered me. But as I looked at the champagne roses he'd secretly kept from my "peace offering," I realized I didn't want to pull the trigger. I wanted to see how far he'd go to keep me from leaving.”