All Chapters of Forced to marry a Ruthless Billionaire : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

39 Chapters

“The Edge of Departure ”

I gripped the steering wheel, my knuckles white, as I speed through the city. I kept hitting redial, listening to the phone ring before it was abruptly sent to voicemail. Over and over. James was hanging up on me. Panic clawed at my chest, thick and suffocating. I knew exactly how badly I had disappointed him, how it must have looked. Desperate, I drove to our regular spot a quiet pier overlooking the water. My heart leaped when I saw his silhouette against the railing. I rushed out of the car, practically tripping over my own feet, and started apologizing the moment I was in earshot. But he didn't even turn to look at me. His face was set in stone, his jaw locked. He offered me nothing. No anger, no forgiveness. Just a cold, unbearable silence. "Alright, you're angry at me," I pleaded, my voice trembling. "It’s alright that you are. But the truth is, a really stupid situation happened, James. I just didn't want you to collide with it." He finally turned to face me, his eyes blaz

“The Blood Price”

My courage held strong, and James finally quieted. I stayed with him long into the night, the two of us retreating to our favorite spot by the water, wrapped in the safety of the dark. He pleaded with me not to run away from him again, and in return, I opened up. I shared small, fragile truths about my father and my family, trying especially to warn him about my mother, hoping to prepare him for the sheer force of her personality. "My mom is always like that," I explained gently. "You'll just have to get used to her. Honestly, I was even planning to invite you over to our place for dinner soon." He looked surprised, but then his expression hardened into fierce determination. He told me he needed to work harder, to secure a future where he could take care of me so I would never have to worry. "James, I don't need anyone but you," I whispered, smiling up at him. "Do you really want to go with me?" he asked, his voice thick with sincerity. "I will follow you anywhere," I replied wit

“The Sacrificial Pawn ”

James had spent the entire morning preparing. Unbeknownst to me, he had bought a beautiful bouquet, secured a ring, and built a quiet, joyous hope for our future. We had agreed to meet at our usual spot by the water later that morning. At 9:00 AM, I pulled a simple dress from my closet, moving like a ghost. As I drove to the pier, I tried to compose myself, taking deep, shuddering breaths. From a distance, I saw him waiting on the deck of the boat. The moment he spotted me, his face broke into a radiant, unguarded smile. The morning breeze tugged at my hair as I walked toward him, but my soul felt completely hollow. "Come on! Come here, sit down," he called out eagerly, patting the seat beside him. As I approached, I saw the beautiful, elaborate breakfast spread he had prepared for us. My chest tightened with a suffocating agony. He had planned a surprise, and I was about to destroy him. "James, I need to.....” "Irene, please. Let me speak first this morning," he interrupted

“The Gilded Trap ”

Still lying on my bed, I felt entirely disconnected from my own body. I was sick with worry for my family, paralyzed by the agonizing reality that I was sacrificing the love of my life to save them. The future felt like a terrifying, black void, and the crushing weight of it all was suffocating me. The bedroom door opened so silently that I didn't even register it. Charles stood right beside my bed, but I was so deeply lost in my own despair that I jumped when he finally spoke. "Irene, what are you thinking about?" Charles asked gently, his face drawn and pale. "You haven't been eating, and you haven't slept well in days." A small, pathetic sob escaped my lips. "How can I possibly eat when our lives are in such a mess, Charles? To think that Andrew of all people is our only hope. That there is no one else in the world to help us." Charles looked away, staring blankly at the wall. "I try not to think about it. For my own sanity," he muttered, his voice trembling slightly. "The trau

“The weight of a lie ”

I was in my room when the sharp, demanding honk of a car at the gate broke the evening silence. I knew instantly it was my father’s car. I hurried to the window, watching him step out with a heavy leather briefcase in one hand and a sealed document in the other. Eager to hear the outcome of his board meeting, I rushed out of my room. Halfway down the stairs, I crossed paths with my mother. She was dressed to the nines, dripping in luxurious fabrics that shimmered from head to toe in the chandelier's light. "Mother, are you going somewhere this evening?" I asked, pausing on the steps. "You look stunning.” She offered a breathy, dismissive chuckle. "Yes, I am going out with my friends. We have a show to catch." "Alright. Don't come home too late, and please be very careful," I replied softly. Just as her hand grasped the brass doorknob, the front door swung open from the outside. Father stepped inside, his face a mask of utter exhaustion. Without a single word between them, my moth

“A Heart for a Name ”

Before stepping inside, I scrubbed my face dry, plastering on a mask of normalcy. When I pushed the front door open, I found the entire family gathered in the living room, deep in a hushed, frantic discussion. My sudden greeting shocked them into silence. Mother stood up immediately, her posture rigid and her eyes sharp. "Irene," she announced flatly, the tension radiating off her in waves. "You have to marry Andrew." I had been dreading this exact moment. I always knew she was the architect behind this nightmare. “Did you sell me off just to satisfy your own selfishness, Mother?" I demanded, my voice trembling with absolute betrayal. "Tell me, do you really hate me that much? I know you wanted this..." “No, Irene, I want to save this family's reputation," she shot back without a shred of remorse. "Look at the facts. Andrew helped your father today, and the board meeting was a success because of him. We need a powerful hand to attach ourselves to. My dear, think about it our famil

“Diamond and Dust”

The inevitable finally happened: I married Andrew. Shortly after the wedding, James packed his life away and left Los Angeles for a mining company in Kentucky. It has been seven years since that day—seven years of a living hell. My marriage to Andrew is completely devoid of love. He is suffocatingly overprotective, treating me like a prized possession rather than a wife. I sacrificed everything to keep my family out of prison, and while the wealth and fame are certainly present, my peace of mind is entirely gone. I am a ghost in my own life. Hundreds of miles away, deep in the mountains of Kentucky, James had transformed. The heartbroken boy I once knew was gone, replaced by a rugged, broad-shouldered man with a thick beard and calloused hands. Through sheer grit, he had worked his way up to become a chief engineer at the mine. Today, he was hundreds of feet underground, inspecting the tunnels alongside Mr. Happy, one of the company's major shareholders. "Engineer! Engineer, I bro

“Echoes from the Dark”

I was in my studio, losing myself in the massive canvas before me. Taking a moment to breathe, I reached for my coffee mug to cool down. The low, steady hum of the television in the background suddenly spiked in volume. Frantic, shouting voices cut through the quiet room. I turned toward the screen, my eyes locking onto the breaking news ticker. A chaotic video played—soot-covered men stumbling out of a collapsed Kentucky coal mine. The reporter's panicked voice announced that several workers were still trapped deep underground. Shock. The blood drained from my face. Kentucky. James. The ceramic mug slipped from my numb fingers, shattering against the hardwood floor. Dark coffee pooled around my feet, but I couldn't move. The horrific news was broadcasting everywhere. Across the country, in his modest shop, James’s father was mid-trim for a customer when he glanced up at the small wall-mounted TV. The clippers fell idle in his trembling hand as absolute terror and dread washed over

“A Call To Los Angeles”

I snatched the remote from the coffee table and turned the television back on. The news was replaying the footage of the rescue. Seeing his face again soot-stained, exhausted, but miraculously alive shattered the last of my composure. I collapsed onto the sofa, sobbing uncontrollably into my hands. I was completely, utterly alone in this massive, gilded prison of a house. Suddenly, the shrill ring of the landline pierced the silence. I grabbed it hastily, desperately hoping it was Joy calling back with more news. "Hello? I'm watching it right now, the broadcast replay…" I rushed out, my voice thick with tears, speaking far too quickly. "What on earth are you talking about, Irene?" a tense, chilling voice interrupted. My blood ran cold. It was Andrew. I cleared my throat, forcing my voice to drop into a flat, emotionless register. "Speak, Andrew." "I have planned an evening supper with my business partners. They are bringing their wives," he stated, his tone dripping with that fa

“The Gathering Storm”

Late into the night, the stark, cold light of the laptop screen illuminated James’s hardened face. He was digging deep, scouring the darkest corners of the internet for every scrap of information he could find on Andrew. He analyzed his rival’s early successes, his ruthless acquisitions, and his expansive, suffocating web of power and influence. Beside the keyboard lay a small velvet box. James paused his relentless typing and reached out, his fingers brushing the fabric before snapping it open. Inside sat the diamond engagement ring he had never gotten the chance to give her. He stared at it, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached, before his eyes darted back to the screen. A glossy, high-definition article mocked him a photo of Irene and Andrew on their wedding day. He clicked on a recently uploaded video interview. The host smiled warmly at the camera. “Our esteemed guest today is the renowned, highly successful CEO of Royal Holdings, Andrew," the interviewer beamed. "Welcome, sir

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