“In those two years, you will do everything I ask of you, no questions asked,” he stated, his tone firm. I opened my mouth to protest, but he cut me off. “I’m not done. During those years, you are not allowed to be with any man, young or old. No dates, no clients, no flirting. If you so much as smile at a man, the contract is broken” "And if you break any part of the contract, you’ll pay me the full amount, plus 200% interest. And I always collect my debts, Elizabeth, one way or another." His voice deepened into a threat. I swallowed hard and stared at the table in front of me, my heart racing. If I didn’t sign it, my sister could die. --- When the broken meets the unlucky, sparks ignite. Elizabeth James has always considered herself unlucky, but nothing tests her resolve more than her sister’s life-threatening illness. Desperate to save her, she accepts help from Richard—a powerful billionaire with his own demons. His help comes at a price: two years bound by his rules, doing whatever he says, no questions asked. Haunted by the betrayal of his ex-wife, Richard lives by a single regret: ‘I wish I made her pay.’ When Elizabeth—a young orphan who bears an uncanny resemblance with his ex—enters his life, a misunderstanding convinces him she’s just another gold digger. Manipulating her into an impossible deal, Richard plans to humiliate her and make her break. But what begins as a calculated act of revenge spirals into something unexpected. Richard finds himself drawn to Elizabeth in ways he never imagined could ever happen again.
View MoreRichard's point of view: Did she just slap me? I blinked, my cheek stinging from the unexpected hit. My fingers brushed over my face, feeling the heat of the slap lingering on my skin. I had always been told that drunk people told no tales—could it be true that she wasn’t really a stripper? If she wasn’t, then what was she doing at the strip club? And why was the manager offering her up for the night? "If you’re not a stripper, then what are you?" I asked, staring at her. Elizabeth lifted her head, her unfocused eyes meeting mine before she curled her fingers in a slow, teasing motion. "Come closer," she slurred. "I’ll tell you." I wasn’t falling for that again. "I can hear you just fine from here," I said flatly. She let out a deep breath, then whispered, "Unlucky." The moment the word left her lips, tears began streaming down her face. "I’m just… very unlucky," she sobbed. Something about the way she said it made my chest tighten. I reached out instinctively,
Elizabeth's point of view: My heart raced as I struggled to sit up, the humiliation nearly sobering me up. "Are you okay?" Richard asked, extending his hand toward me. I didn’t take it. Instead, my eyes darted around the room—Beatrice was laughing, Sylvia had that smug smirk, and the rest of the crowd was torn between pity and barely contained amusement. A lump formed in my throat. I felt so humiliated, so small. Tears burned at the edge of my vision, but I forced them back. Don’t cry. Don’t you dare cry. The last thing I wanted was to let these people see me break. They didn’t deserve it. "Take my hand," Richard urged again. I finally glanced at him, irritation and anger bubbling inside me. He was probably enjoying this—he liked seeing me humiliated, didn’t he? Maybe he wanted to laugh too, just like the rest of them. I had always known he could be cruel, but I never thought he’d do it so publicly. I shoved his hand away and forced myself to my feet. The alcohol still bu
"What do you say?" she asked, her voice smooth, almost casual.I didn’t answer. Instead, I just stared at her, trying to read the room, trying to understand why. Rich people were strange, but this? This was something else. It wasn’t just that she was offering me money—it was how she did it. Like it was a simple transaction. Like I had a price tag. And considering her son already thought I would do anything for money, this was more than suspicious. Had Richard put her up to this? Was this some kind of test? The thought made my jaw tighten. But why would he even bother testing me? He knew I was around him because I had to be. But...what if I was wrong? What if this wasn’t a test, and I was about to walk away from the offer of a lifetime? "Fine! You drive a hard bargain—two million," Mrs. Williams said, and I blinked. Before I could react, she waved a manicured hand in the air, like she was already growing bored of the conversation. "This is my final offer, and I’m not moving
I followed Richard to what looked like an auditorium, then into an elevator that led to a VIP box overlooking the stage. As soon as we stepped out, I noticed three people seated with their backs to the elevator, their attention fixed on the stage. Richard moved forward, his hand slipping from my back as he took another step toward the chairs. "Mum!" His voice was sharp, directed at a silver-haired woman sitting in the first chair. She turned instantly, a warm smile flashing on her face. "Richard!" Her soft voice rang out as she rose gracefully and walked toward him. This is Richard’s mother? I stared at her, taking in her beauty. She looked young and elegant, and she carried herself with effortless grace. Her nude-colored dress complemented her flawless skin, and the diamond necklace around her neck screamed money. "What are you doing here, Mum?" Richard asked, his body tensing as she pulled him into a hug. "Did you really expect me to miss this?" she said. She had a bea
Elizabeth's point of view: We got down to the parking lot, where a pure white Cadillac Escalade limo sat waiting just in front of the elevator. As soon as we stepped out, the driver rushed forward, fumbling to open the door for Richard. But Richard stopped him, "The lady first." Richard instructed. And the driver nodded redirecting his efforts to me. I tried not to blush as I stepped inside, my breath hitching at the sheer luxury surrounding me. The interior was sleek, with plush leather seats, a TV screen, and crystal-clear wine glasses arranged neatly beside a fully stocked mini fridge. It was the kind of car that screamed wealth, the kind I had only ever seen in movies. I shifted in my seat, trying to get comfortable, but as beautiful as this dress was, it wasn’t exactly made for sitting. The fabric clung to me, suddenly feeling too tight, my knees pressed together in a way that made breathing a conscious effort. The leather squeaked as I adjusted, my frustration growing.
Elizabeth's point of view: "Fine!" Richard sighed. "I won't touch you without your permission... but if your eyes beg me to, I just might." His teasing tone sent an unwanted shiver down my spine. "Also, would you accompany me to the award dinner? It’s important, and I wouldn’t want to leave you alone in this house in case you decide to go snooping again,"Ah. There it was—the real reason he wanted me out tonight. "What do you say?" he asked. It wasn’t how I wanted him to ask but it was a win nonetheless. "Fine. I’ll go," I sighed, "'I'll pick something from the collection. Thank you." "Good. See you at seven," Richard said, and I nodded instinctively—forgetting, for a moment, that he couldn't see me. As I hung up, my lips curled into an involuntary smile. A small, fluttering sensation stirred in my stomach, but I quickly shook my head to rid myself of the ridiculous feeling. "He’s so infuriating", I thought, though I couldn't deny the thrill of having had the upper hand fo
Elizabeth's Point of View; The cupcake was worth it. Margaret had magic hands. Even though I had planned to take just one, I devoured an entire box of ten before I even realized it. "This is lovely! Thank you," I said, wiping the last crumb from my lips. Margaret smiled warmly, clearly pleased with herself. "Listen, my shift is over. Want to go dress shopping together?" she asked. I glanced down at my clothes. They were new—I had bought them with my first paycheck—and I thought they were pretty decent. "Is there something wrong with what I'm wearing?" I asked, frowning. Margaret chuckled. "For the award ceremony tonight. Richard said you two are going." I rolled my eyes. "I’m not going anywhere." Richard wasn’t the boss of me. Well… maybe technically he was, but that didn’t mean he could summon me to his events just by commanding it. Margaret gave me a knowing look, but I stood my ground. "Don't worry about any dress shopping, ma'am. I’m not going anywhere tonight," I
Elizabeth's point of view: Richard was insufferable. And Margret—what was taking her so long? I found myself glancing toward the kitchen, wondering what she was doing. With how long she was taking, she might as well have been baking a whole new batch of cupcakes. "I told you already, I’m not going to see any therapist. I don’t need one," I spat, my patience running thin. Richard smiled, unaffected. "You are," he stated firmly. I shook my head, seeing this as an opportunity to bring up Jake. "About yesterday..." I started, then hesitated. I remembered how angry Richard had been the day before, and it made me skeptical. "I... spoke to..." I stopped again, suddenly aware of the way he was watching me—focused, his full attention on me, smiling. It was unsettling. Then, as if sensing my discomfort, his expression shifted, growing serious. "What is it, Elizabeth? Talk to me." His deep voice was calm, soothing, and for some reason, it made my heart flutter slightly. "Your e
Richard's perspective: (point of view): "Martin, cancel all my appointments for the day. I don’t think I’ll be coming in," I said, feeling an unexpected pull to stay home. "Understood, sir. But if I may remind you, the award ceremony is today. You’ve been nominated for Philanthropist of the Year again," Martin informed me. "Would you like me to send a representative to accept it on your behalf?" I leaned back in my seat, exhaling. "I’m not sure yet. I’ll let you know before the event." Another award. Another ceremony. I’d received so many over the years that I was starting to lose count. The whole thing felt exhausting—endless speeches, handshakes, and hollow congratulations. None of it truly mattered. But this time, something felt different. For the first time in years, I was actually considering going. That is, if I could convince Elizabeth to come with me. "Should I inform your family?" Martin asked. I sighed. My mother and Beatrice always made sure to attend on my
Richard's Point of ViewI was bored. Bored to death. The club had a beautiful ambiance, but apart from that, nothing else was amusing—not the women dancing in front of me, nor the cheap wine I struggled to sip. "You enjoying yourself?" Maxwell asked, leaning closer. I shot him an annoyed look. "Do I look like I’m enjoying myself?" I spat, leaning back into the leather chair. The seat let out a sharp squeak under my weight, worsening my irritation. If Maxwell hadn’t stolen my keys and dragged me to this cheap strip club, I would have spent my night doing something a thousand times better. "C'mon, Richie Rich," Maxwell teased, his grin widening as if he enjoyed my discomfort. "You've been celibate for three years. Look around this room. There are plenty of women here—women who would happily help you forget about that—" He stopped himself, swallowing his words. Laura. He’d almost said the name I couldn’t stand hearing, I gave him a warning glance, and he raised his hands in surre...
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