The Predator Fiancée Novels & Stories

I walked back toward the main hall, my heart pounding harder with every step. And then I saw her. My sister. Standing in the center of the room. She was smiling, happy and I was going towards her and almost immediately I froze! Because she wasn’t alone anymore, Her hand was wrapped around his arm. And this time… I could see his face clearly. My heart stopped. My breath caught. My entire world came trembling. Because the man I had just left in that room… Was her fiancé.

I walked towards Caius’s apartment, holster in hand. My phone buzzed. A new social media post. I tapped it open and froze. It was a selfie of Fiorella, filling the whole screen. She was smiling sweetly, a massive diamond necklace around her neck, each stone blindingly brilliant. The caption: "Thank you to the man I love most for the most precious gift in the world." I stopped walking, staring at that necklace. I’d never seen anything so extravagant, so dazzling.

A Russo future. “I’m not a charity case,” I muttered, tucking it into my palm. “No,” Dante replied, straightening, hands sliding into his pockets. “You’re my wife, Gianna, and wives, are all, this might have been a sham marriage, but I'd never treat you like they did," The words should have stung. Instead, they steadied me. He tilted his head, studying me like one of his models on the runway. “Do you know what makes the difference between prey and predator, Gianna?”

For the past ten years, all of Boston society had been guessing whether I would end up marrying Alexander Grant, Nathan Cole, or Julian Vale. One of them took care of every problem that came my way. One remembered every allergy I had. One built me an observatory with a view of the whole city. I never once doubted that I was loved. I had always been the spoiled little princess everyone doted on. Then my mother found her older daughter, Vivian Ashford, who had been missing for twenty-two years. Vivian was the one expected to marry into Black Harbor for the Ashford family. To make up for the life she had lost, the three men started asking me to give up a little at a time. Alexander missed the f

"It's all because of that woman. Can you believe the nerve showing up to our wedding with something so cheap?" She contemptuously kicked at the intact watch on the ground. Matteo finally settled on me with a critical eye. "You're the one supposed to be my bride. " I had to admit, his looks were indeed impressive enough to make many women swoon. "Matteo Leonardo," I began, dropping the honorifics, "I'm Anita Rossi, the fiancée your father personally approved." "Save your introduction. I have zero interest in you, or in that irrelevant little family of yours hiding away in some corner of Sicily. Even though you're marrying me, I'll never touch you."

With me newly married and about to dive into national-level work, I'd been flagged as high-priority talent. After that, she finally shut up. And not long after the wedding, Leona found out she was pregnant. At our daughter's baby shower, Beatrice e-walleted me a million dollars with a note: [This was supposed to be your wedding gift—consider it like we got married.] I shot back: [Save it. The profit shares you promised me back then are worth way more.] She didn't reply. Next day was her engagement party with Joseph. She was eight months pregnant, ready to pop. But she skipped the whole thing—holed up with some secretary who happened to look like me.

For some reason, hearing her say those words made me even more anxious, and I found myself staring at the door as it opened to reveal my fiancee. As soon as I laid eyes on the woman, I felt as though the world stopped spinning. I saw the surprise on her face when she saw me with Henry. I couldn't believe that I would see her in this place. "Atilla..." I muttered. It took a few minutes for Henry's words, "Ram, this is Atilla; she's going to be your fiancee," to sink in. I felt like nothing made sense anymore—I mean, how can a prostitute become my fiancee?

“Just three months. Strictly business. No strings attached, no assumptions, no physical contact except when necessary.” “As you please,” he didn't flinch. He dropped his tablet, stood up, and walked towards the drawer right beside his desk, and pulled out a thick brown folder, which I assumed to be the contract. “Here’s it, go through and sign at the bottom corner. You'll receive monthly compensation, and when it's over, I'll fulfill my end of the bargain.” I collected and scanned through it. “This is insane,” I muttered. I can't believe I'm about to agree to be a fake fiancée. Not just to anyone but to a billionaire — one of the richest and most influential men in Ravelle.

There were no traces of the man that I once fell in love with. He looked different, unfamiliar, a stranger just with a familiar face. Bathed in the glory of his new status, clothed in an expensive custom-made suit, there was a glint of loathing in his eyes as he looked at me. No, he was looking down on me. Next to him stood his fiancée. Beautiful and elegant, her entire aura screaming money and status. A rich heiress, a perfect match to the heir to the Fox fortune.

With some heavily dyed hair? “I am not hungry.” Even if I was, all of this just ruined my appetite and soured my taste. I never thought she would stoop this low. Not to sound judgy but this girl, she was everything that went wrong with America and the rest of the world. “Well, suit yourself.” She said in a low voice, then lowered into her seat. “Kayden, Diego; Diego, meet Kayden. My sister’s fiancée.” Oh? I think you forgot to mention…