Billionaire's Fake Savior: Unmasking The Truth

Chapter 2 2

Word Count: 865 | Released on: 09/02/2026

a linebacker, his momentum carrying them both into the marble wall next

gging into her trapezius muscles like iron claws. He wasn't trying to strangle h

groaned, leaning

rom her sleeve. It hit the carpet with a dull thud

she choked out. "

s massive frame. Imogene turned her face away as his head dropped to he

melled pepperm

d somethi

This was the switch. The "Saint" taking over. She stopped s

. The tremors were rhythmic, clonic. His pupils were dilated

acking her. H

ed. The rumors about his e

is eyes wild. He looked at her neck, his teeth bared. It was a primal reaction,

outh, moving to

arm from between their bodies. She swung

, like a pistol cra

e. The shock interrupted the feedback loo

oice wasn't the waitress's anymore.

e red haze in his eyes seemed to clear slightly. He saw

to the pressure points at the base of his skull, right behi

n," she ordered.

head-the static, the screaming data-began to recede, replaced b

oulders loosened.

er, landing in a heap on the expensive carpet. Kenan ended up on his knees, his f

." he

mic massage. She knew the anatomy of the cranial nerves better t

like a furnace. Imogene shivered, her thin uniform

wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his face in the coarse fabric of her

. It was terrif

ush him away. She should find a way to override the door. But

hispered again, his vo

n the orphanages in Eastern Europe, a lullaby with no

ly drained from Kenan's body. His breathing deep

was

ne was fading. She grabbed his arm and pulled. He was solid muscle. It took everything she had

knees. Her shoulder throbbed where he had grabbed he

the tech world. He looked like a

checked his pulse on

he whispered to the u

Chapter End

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Billionaire's Fake Savior: Unmasking The Truth

Qing Shui Modern

“I was a disgraced heiress hiding as a dishwasher in a high-end club, scrubbing lipstick off glasses until my fingers went numb. One night, I was forced to deliver a bottle of vintage whiskey to the penthouse, only to find the tech billionaire Kenan Cervantes collapsing from a lethal neural storm. I used my surgeon's training to save his life, holding him in the dark until his fever finally broke. The next morning, the world I knew shattered. My coworker Tiffany, who hadn't even stepped foot in the room, claimed my identity as the savior. She signed a non-disclosure agreement and walked away with a $200,000 check, while I was accused of stealing the whiskey and had my entire month's wages forfeited as punishment. While Tiffany was flaunting Chanel suits and posting photos from his balcony, I was being shoved into the mud by my abusive foster father in a dark alley. I watched from the shadows as Kenan stepped into his luxury car, looking right through me with nothing but cold distaste. To him, I was just "street trash" cluttering the sidewalk, while the imposter was the "angel" who had stabilized his heart. The injustice felt like a physical weight. I had quieted the noise in his brain and kept him from the brink of death, yet I was the one facing eviction and hunger. I didn't understand how he could be a genius and still be so blind to the truth, rewarding a thief while I rotted in the basement. Everything reached a breaking point when Tiffany forced me to sneak into his penthouse to help her maintain the lie. But Kenan returned from Tokyo early, finding me on the terrace with his military-grade protection dog. The beast that had tried to bite Tiffany was now resting its head in my lap, protecting me from its own master. Kenan dropped his briefcase, his eyes locking onto mine as the fragmented memories of the storm finally clicked into place. "You," he whispered.”