Old Money Last Names

"You're mine Ariella Vandenberg" his hand firmly wraps around her slender waist, pulling her closer to him. "Jay...I..I hate you... so much" he smirked and without permission, smashed his cold lips unto hers, enveloping in a passionate kiss. "We Both know that's a lie..". * *. * * Following a painful breakup with her fiancé, Arielle Vandenberg finds sanctuary in a darkly lit club, her thoughts clouded by sadness. But when she crosses paths with Jay Sinclair, a dangerously charming billionaire, her night takes an unexpected turn. Jay Sinclair is the last man Arielle shouldn't be engaged with, given his vicious reputation and untouchable status. But, when a controversy threatens Arielle's future, Jay makes her an attractive proposal: a contract marriage to solve both of their issues. The rules are simple: no strings, no love, just business. But when she starts to unwind, she finds out the awful truth: Jay has been using her from the start. Their terrible encounter at the bar wasn't a coincidence; rather, a deliberate plot to wreak revenge on her family's betrayal done years back, which she knows nothing of. However, with her heart now on the line, she must decide between walking away from the only person who can save her and her family and trusting the guy who fooled her. will Arielle find out even more devastating details about the guy she thought she knew, or will love be able to endure betrayal?.

You ruined me, now watch me bring down your great empire to crumbles.” she signed off her agreement on the contract slip. What happens when the famous billionaire unknowingly places the future of his business in the hands of the ex he broke?. **** Ace and Jasmine cross paths again after their romantic life went downhill seven years ago, following the scandal. He broke her heart. He humiliated her. She was expelled and ruined, and Ace wanted nothing to do with her anymore. Fast forward to seven years later, fate draws her back into his life. A rich boss. The sweetest piece of ass in New York, and the hottest musical celebrity around the city. Men just can't take their eyes off her. Fate has placed the balls in her court, with a chance at revenge when his empire offers her a contract and now, she will stop at nothing to take her revenge, especially after having a glimpse of how easygoing his current life is with his replacement of her. What happens when Ace finally recognizes her too? Deep dark secrets will be revealed but what will the future hold for them? Will Sparks return or were they never gone? ~ “I know we broke up…but I just can't seem to give you up….come back to me please….” He nuzzled his face in her neck, breathing in her calming scent. “I'd be a fool to make the same mistake again.” She pushed him away, glaring at him. ~ He wants her back. But then there's Veronica, his fiancee, pregnant for him...

I was once the most respected female intelligence officer in the underworld. I controlled black market trade, port lockdowns, and risk assessments for every smuggling route. These were the basics every new recruit learned on their first day in the Mafia. But my intel was never reliable. As time went by, everyone caught on. In this city, whether the ports were locked down or open for business didn't depend on intel. It depended on whether Vincenzo's childhood friend was in a bad mood. I had just sent an order over the family's secure channel: "Level-one lockdown. All shipping routes are closed." A moment later, the ports were thrown wide open. My rival mocked me in front of everyone. "Isabella's supposed to be the queen of underworld intelligence, isn't she? What happened, did she lose her touch?" Other family members twisted the knife without a second thought. "Her husband changes the rules at a word from his precious Amelia. Who's going to listen to her anymore?" "She's on the hook for any losses from this. That route reopening is going to bankrupt her!" I clutched a stack of formal censures from the family. I said nothing. It didn't matter. I was done being a pawn in their games. Soon, I would be gone for good.

Malia Ray Smith, the heiress to the country's largest chocolate manufacturer, thought she had it all wealth, power, and the love of her father. But her husband Maynard Salvador cheats on her leaving Malia feeling worthless and insecure Just when Malia thought things couldn't get any worse, Larson Reynold enters her life and sweeps her off her feet and Malia believes she has found her true love. But as she falls deeper, she uncovers a web of lies and deception, and realizes she's been nothing but a pawn in Larson's dangerous game. Malia must navigate a world of betrayal, corruption, and evil plotting, all while finding the strength to stand up for herself and fight for the love and happiness she truly deserves.

"Sign it," he said. Three years of marriage ended with a line and a pen that trembled in her hand. It wasn't the papers that hurt—it was the way he didn't even flinch when she did. Amelia Hart walked out of his penthouse that night with nothing but a suitcase and a broken heartbeat. She'd given Daniel Sterling everything—her love, her identity, her silent devotion—only to be discarded the moment she became inconvenient. But when the empire he built begins to fall, when the cold CEO who never looked back suddenly needs the woman he threw away, he returns with the same hands that once let her go, now reaching for what he destroyed. Only this time, there's a clause he didn't read…

Before my crazy grandmother died, she gave me three walnuts. According to her last wish, I cracked open the first walnut on my twenty-fifth birthday. Inside the walnut was a slip of paper. 'Go to the skybridge and grovel at the first beggar you meet' was the instruction written on it. When I looked at the note, I could feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment. Still, I did as told. To my surprise, the beggar turned out to be an undercover cop. Only later did I learn that I had long been targeted by human traffickers, and the bow had saved my life. As for the second walnut, my grandmother told me to crack it open before I got married. When I put on my wedding dress, ready to marry the policeman who saved me, I happily opened it. This time, there was a crumpled old photograph inside. In the photo, my fiancé was smiling as he strangled another bride.

Scarlet blood trickled from my thigh as I clutched Arvin Owen's hand. "My belly... It hurts so much..." He shook off my hand indifferently. "Come on, I know it's chicken blood you are using. Debby just suffered abuse from her husband and is now in the hospital without anyone to care for her. Don't be so spoiled!" But what flowed from me was not chicken blood. It was my life slipping away.

I transmigrated into a trashy, tragic romance as the vicious side character. By the time I arrived, the story had already reached its ending. I had caused the female lead to lose her SAT opportunity, and my two older brothers forced me to my knees. My eldest brother, Lucas Sherman, beat me mercilessly with a stick. He hissed, "Slap yourself 1000 times before you can get up." My older brother, Charlie Sherman, threw a bottle of pesticide at me. He spat, "Someone as vicious as you should just die." I let out a cold laugh and picked up the pesticide bottle, downing it in one gulp. Lucas and Charlie turned pale with shock. "Are you insane? You actually drank it!"

The day I found out I was a match for my dad—stage four leukemia—I bailed. Mom tore the world apart looking for me, but yeah, she had to watch him go. After that, she drowned herself in research, built a name, even adopted this perfect little angel. We crossed paths again at some fancy leukemia conference she was hosting. I was on the demo table. She took one look and scoffed. "Charlotte Stein, not the time for your crap. Get up and go." The host blinked, stunned. "Dr. Cooper... you know this cadaver?" She actually laughed. "What, she paid you for this stunt?" The host turned ghost-white. "M-Miss Stein passed three days ago..."

My husband's childhood sweetheart took the Cullinan I gave him for a midnight joyride. One person ended up critically injured. He wired half a million euros from the family account to hire a fall guy, then flew her to Switzerland for a ski trip. I called him from outside the operating room, desperate. "Your father is dying. Authorize the surgery, now!" He laughed, her head on his shoulder in the video call. "Using my father's health to lie? Sofia, you've crossed a line." The line went dead. The heart monitor flatlined. Later, at his father's funeral, he raged, swearing to find the killer and make them pay. I looked at the gathered family elders, then pointed at the trembling woman behind him. "The killer is right there. The one you paid to protect."