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Christina "Christy" Ross, as Poppy her friend had called her, had been a runaway bride for five years already from her billionaire groom Everette Watson. Christy thought she had already hidden away from him, but when she was going to meet her blind date from an online dating app, she was horrified to see it was none other than Everette! Five years ago, Christy had escaped their wedding. But now... Everette had promised not to allow her again. ******* STAND-ALONE BOOK Book 2: Forget About Me, Billionaire Book 1: Mommy, I Want My Daddy LOVING THE BILLIONAIRE SERIES You can read this book directly even if you have not read BOOK 1.

Venice once rejected Lucien during their university days, believing he was someone far beneath the world she desired. Ambitious and drawn to wealthy and famous men, she never imagined that the quiet man she dismissed would one day become someone powerful. Years later, Lucien has everything—wealth, influence, and a marriage arranged under complicated circumstances. During a grand Bachelor’s Party he hosts, fate brings Venice back into his life. The moment he sees her again, Lucien hires her on the spot. Now Venice finds herself working for the very man she once ignored—Lucien, who is no longer the quiet student she remembered, but a cold and irresistible billionaire. Determined to keep her distance, Venice focuses on her job and reminds herself that Lucien is a married man. Yet the more time they spend together, the harder it becomes to ignore the tension growing between them. What Venice doesn't know is that Lucien didn't hire her by coincidence… he had been searching for her for years. Caught between resisting the man who now holds power over her and confronting the feelings she never expected to feel, Venice must decide: will she walk away before it's too late… or will she find herself trapped in a desire she can no longer escape?

When I caught Christian Helmley cheating on me for the tenth time, he dragged his lover over without any hesitation and let me decide her fate. When I caught him cheating for the 28th time, he cried and groveled and begged for my forgiveness. The man went so far as to curse his bloodline for that. By the ninety-eighth time, nothing he did could touch me anymore. I was numb. All I did was crouch beyond the door of his study while he and his lover were going at it like animals. Then it was the last time I caught him cheating. He came back and kissed me right after sleeping with another woman. One day before I left, he barged in with a crying girl in his arms. Christian berated me, accusing me of killing his son. "I can't believe you! You're not the woman I know!" He pressed the tip of a fountain pen against my belly, and I forced my tears back. "I don't want any other woman carrying my children. I only want Jasmine! God, can you stop being possessive for one second? You're practically a hag now, Natasha. Pull this again, and I'll send you to an asylum!" All that elicited from me was a bitter smile. I had no strength left to argue. "Yes, yes, I envy her. She took my husband from me, but I guess I should say goodbye and bless your relationship on the way out now." Then I jumped into the rolling sea right before his eyes. Only one thought remained in my mind. 'That's the last of the love I had for you, Christian.'

How does Iris, a boring college student pique the interest of Smoke, a not so human entity. There's a fine like between love and obsession, but he crossed that line long ago.

My health was not good, but I had always wanted a child. My husband, citing concern for my health, avoided intimacy with me for a year. Then I stumbled across his private messages with another woman. [You'll spend Valentine's Day with me, right? You're not going to touch her tonight, are you?] [You know I don't like doing it just to make babies. Got you some lingerie. Wear it for me tomorrow.] That ill-fitting lace lingerie he was talking about was on my body. I'd slipped it on while he was in the shower, thinking it was a Valentine's Day surprise from him. Turned out, he hadn't bought the wrong size. He had just sent it to the wrong address. I clicked on the woman's profile. Her latest video showed her at the beach, hand in hand with the person filming. I recognized her hand instantly. It belonged to my best friend.

I had been married to Natasha Bates for ten years, and not once did she ever join me for our family's Independence Day cookout. This year, on the night before the celebration, I finally gathered the courage to ask if she wanted to come. She scoffed and said, "What are you, stuck in the past? Who even celebrates the Fourth with a family dinner anymore?" Yet that very evening, I saw a social media post of Natasha with her male best friend, Stanley Rogers. They were quite intimate in the picture, and the caption read: [True happiness is celebrating Independence Day with your bestie!] I commented back: [Hope you two lovebirds make it official soon.] Stanley did not hold back. He messaged me a bunch of intimate photos of the two of them. Then, he added, [You're just a leech living off his wife. What right do you have to question anything about Nattie?] Everyone always thought I was a gold-digger living off Natasha's success. However, they all forgot that I was the sole major shareholder of the company. This time, I’m done staying silent.

The classified project I was working on wrapped up ahead of schedule, so I made sure to get back on my daughter's birthday. When I walked in, a girl I had never seen before was wearing my daughter's princess dress, a crown perched on her head. She sat in front of a cake as tall as she was, eyes closed, making a wish. I frowned and stepped closer. "Who are you? Why are you wearing my daughter's dress? Where's Heidi?" Before she could answer, two housemaids rushed out and started yelling at me. "Where the hell did you come from? How dare you talk to our boss's daughter like that? If you know what's good for you, get out! When the boss gets back, you won't like what happens." I stood there, confused. Boss? The boss's daughter? In this house, wasn't it just me and my daughter, Heidi Foster? I barely had time to speak before they shoved me toward the front door. In the middle of the pushing, something caught my eye. Off to the side, chained to a pillar, was Heidi. The girl I used to hold like she was the most precious thing in the world was now sprawled on the ground, digging through a dog bowl for food. A thick iron chain was locked around her neck, and her body was covered in bruises. My vision tightened. "Heidi, what happened to you?" The moment our eyes met, her hollow gaze filled with tears. She shrank back, then let out a soft bark at me, like a frightened dog. The maids looked at her with open disgust. One of them sneered, "Our boss said that that little thing was born to live like a dog. You have to keep her chained up if you want her to behave."

“Sign it.” Axton’s calm voice echoed in the room. The kind of calm that made silence deafening. He pushed the divorce papers across the polished desk, his expression cold and composed. The pen rolled until it stopped in front of her hand. Isla’s fingers trembled slightly as she picked it up. The golden ring on her finger glinted under the office light, a cruel reminder of everything that was about to end. Three years of marriage, three years of smiles and unspoken tenderness, now reduced to a signature line. They had never married for love, binded by a contract signed for convenience, destined to expire the moment it no longer served its purpose. And yet somewhere along the way, Isla had forgotten it was only temporary.

I've always been sensitive and delicate since young. The first reaction I often exhibit whenever I run into a problem is "I wanna die". But weirdly enough, those who bully me are also the ones who get really unlucky in life. It turns out that I'm the real heiress to a wealthy family. On the first day of me rejoining said family, the fake heiress, Quinn Emerson, cries hysterically as she hollers about wanting to jump off the balcony. My parents and my older brother, Finn Emerson, keep consoling her that she's always their precious darling. Knowing that I won't have a good status in this family, I rush over to the window and scream "I don't wanna live anymore!" before jumping off the third floor. Unexpectedly, I land right on top of Finn. While I'm left unscathed, he suffers from multiple fractures and has to get hospitalized for three months. Later on, I'm admitted into an elite academy. Quinn cries about how I've been bullying her. In order to avenge her, my parents use the excuse of driving me to school just to abandon me in the middle of the highway. Feeling very aggrieved, I scream "I don't wanna live anymore!" again and turn to look for a truck to get run over. But the truck driver manages to pull off a 360-degree spin, crashing into my parents' car instead. The car does three flips in the air before landing on the ground. They almost get reduced to vegetables in that accident. On my 18th birthday-slash-coming-of-age ceremony, Quinn's urge to cause trouble is overtaking her once again. This time, she intends to accuse me of stealing the jewelry worth tens of millions of dollars that's gifted to her by our mom. But my parents, Finn, and even my grandma, who used to dote on Quinn a lot, are so frightened that they slap Quinn a dozen or so times. "Why must you cross that walking jinx?" they exclaim.

A car accident leaves me unconscious for a full three years. When I wake up, my family bursts into tears of joy. They care for me with the utmost attention. But from their behavior, I sense something is wrong. There are women's clothes in the house that don't fit me. My mother's shopping cart is filled with mysterious baby items. My father's friends send congratulatory messages about a new child, and my husband is always working overtime. When my husband once again leaves me alone under the pretext that there is something urgent at the company, I secretly follow him. Inside a warmly decorated house, my parents and husband sit around a table. A woman who looks almost exactly like me is holding a baby just a few months old, gently coaxing the child to call my husband "Daddy".