He Bought Me for Revenge

The rain was pouring like the sky itself was mourning my ruined life.Thunder ripped through the midnight clouds, echoing across the cold city streets. I stood on the wet pavement outside the towering glass monument of Voss Enterprises, soaked to the bone. The biting winter wind cut straight through my cheap, worn-out coat, but the ice freezing inside my chest had nothing to do with the weather.In my shaking, numb hands, I held a crumpled, water-stained piece of paper.A private phone number. A single name.Alexander Voss.He was my last resort. My absolute final hope. And irony was a cruel monster—because the only man alive with the power to save my family was the very man who had spent the last ten years plotting to tear us apart.Beep. Beep. Beep.The sound of the ICU monitors from two hours ago was still ringing violently in my ears.“Miss Kane, your mother’s kidneys are failing,” the head doctor had told me, his eyes full of hollow pity. “If we don’t perform the specialized surg

The black Maybach glided through the wrought-iron gates of the Voss Estate like a phantom cutting through the midnight fog.Outside the tinted windows, towering oak trees stretched toward the storm-choked sky, their twisted branches clawing at the rain. At the end of the winding, private driveway sat the manor—a sprawling, gothic-revival fortress made of dark granite and sharp architectural edges. It was breathtaking, majestic, and completely devoid of warmth. It didn't look like a home; it looked like a maximum-security prison disguised in billionaire opulence.The car came to a smooth stop under the portico.The chauffeur stepped out, opened my door, and held a large black umbrella overhead. “Welcome to your new residence, Miss Kane. Mr. Voss has instructed that you be taken directly to the West Wing.”My wet sneakers squeaked against the pristine black marble of the grand foyer. Crystal chandeliers hung from vaulted ceilings, casting sharp, prismatic reflections over minimalist art

The ride back to the Voss Estate was suffocating.Alexander sat rigid beside me, his jaw clenched so tightly the muscles ticked beneath his skin. The crushed photograph remained hidden inside his closed fist, but the lethal energy radiating from him made the very air inside the Maybach feel electric and thin.I stared down at the heavy platinum ring on my finger, my lower lip still tingling from the searing intensity of that forced kiss."Who was that photograph from?" I asked, breaking the silence in a low, cautious whisper.Alexander didn't turn his head. "None of your concern.""It mentioned my father," I pressed, the knot in my stomach tightening into pure dread. "Alexander, if someone is targeting my mother at that hospital, I have a right to know—"In a flash of pure violence, his hand shot out, his long fingers wrapping around my throat. He didn't choke me, but the pressure was absolute, pinning my head back against the leather headrest.His face was inches from mine, his steel