All Chapters of Stripper Heiress: Revenge Marriage to the Devil Billionaire: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

"Look at the papers, Cecelia," Christopher says without turning his head toward me.The warm air inside the black luxury car smells of expensive leather, faint cedarwood, and the freezing rain dripping from my soaked clothes. I sit pressed against the passenger door, shivering so violently my teeth click together in the dark. Water runs off my wet hair and pools on the fine leather seat beneath me.Christopher reaches into his jacket, pulls out a heavy Manila folder, and drops it directly onto my lap.My hands shake as I pull the folder open.The first thing resting inside is a black USB drive attached to a printed transcript. Typed timestamps list every second of the video Cynthia recorded on her phone just five minutes ago. Next to it lies a stack of glossy photographs. In the photos, I am on my knees under the dim club lights, my hands reaching toward open lockboxes and cash bags staged behind the stage floorboards. It looks entirely real. It looks like a premeditated, high-level t

"You sleep here," Christopher says flatly, throwing the door to the master bedroom open.I stand on the threshold, shivering in my damp, ruined clothes."The staff talk," he adds, his voice cold and clipped as he steps past me into the dark room. "I won't have rumors spreading across the city that my new wife is kept in the servants' wing."My hands curl into tight fists at my sides. "I don't care about your staff, Christopher.""I care about my image," he replies instantly, turning to glare down at me with hard eyes. "You live under my name now. That means you follow my rules.""Your rules are a prison," I say, my throat burning with unshed tears."Then consider yourself locked in," he says, stepping closer until his broad frame blocks out the dim hallway light. "Go wash off that dirt."I drag my feet into the massive, freezing room, my heart pounding wildly against my ribs.He turns on his heel and disappears into the adjoining bathroom, shutting the door behind him without another

"Hand it to me, Cecelia," Christopher's voice cuts through the silent bedroom as he steps into the room.I sit on the edge of the freezing mattress, my hands locked tightly around the small metal casing.Beside me rests the single worn leather bag I was permitted to bring into this mansion. Inside its torn cloth lining, tucked deep near the bottom seam, I had found the small silver locket resting against the fabric.I press my nail against the tarnished latch, popping it open with a faint click.The faded photograph of my mother, Celestine, stares back at me through the cracked glass frame. Resting beneath the photo, pressed against the metal back, sits a tiny silver key. For the first time since this nightmare began, a tiny, fragile spark of real hope flickers inside my bruised chest. She is still here with me. I am not completely alone in this dark house."I said give it to me," Christopher repeats, his shadow falling over my lap as he closes the distance between us.I press the loc

"Put the dress on," Christopher says, throwing a long black garment bag onto the middle of the bed before walking out.I pull the zipper down, my breath hitching in my tight chest as the smooth silk slides out into my hands.The gown Christopher chose for me is cut ridiculously low across the chest and slit up to the hip. It isn't an elegant dress for a billionaire's wife. It is a dress designed to make me look cheap, exposed, and entirely out of place in front of the city's high-society elite.My hands tremble as I pull the thin fabric over my body, my heart hammering a wild, frantic rhythm against my ribs.An hour later, Christopher drags me by the elbow into the private dining room of the grandest hotel downtown.The long mahogany table is surrounded by twenty of the most powerful people in the state, all dressed in formal attire. The second we walk through the doors, conversation dies down into low, cruel whispers."Sit," Christopher orders quietly, pulling out a chair near the ce

"Put those papers back on the shelf, Cecelia," Christopher's quiet voice echoes through the dark storage container behind me.I freeze inside the tiny metal room, my shaking fingers locking tightly onto the brittle yellowed parchment in my hands.Using the silver key from my mother's melted locket and the exact street address written on Theophilus's note, I found this hidden storage unit tucked away on the far outskirts of the city.Inside the heavy steel lockers, I opened three sealed plastic boxes packed tight with birth records, old photographs of Celestine, and a thick letter written in my mother's delicate, looping handwriting to the daughter she hoped would one day read it.The official legal documents, stamped with red wax seals, prove the impossible truth beyond a shadow of a doubt: I am not Julian Vance's worthless daughter. I am the sole surviving blood heiress to the massive Poseidon empire.I turn around slowly to face the open metal doorway, my lungs burning as I stare at