Married to the Tyrant in a Wheelchair

My boyfriend and stepsister murdered me for my inheritance, their celebratory kiss a final insult above my broken body on the rain-slicked concrete of the port. As my soul floated inches from my own face, a tyrant the world knew only as a disfigured cripple, Charles Moses, arrived with a team of soldiers. He ignored my killers, who were now begging for their lives. Instead, he fell to his knees in the mud and blood. He cradled my lifeless head in his hands, and a gut-wrenching sob of pure agony tore from his throat before he carried my body into the black ocean. As the water closed over us, I didn't understand. Why did this monster, a man I had never met, weep for me as if I was his entire world? My eyes snapped open. I was five years in the past, coughing up water in a hospital bed. It was the night my family screamed at me for ruining my stepsister's dress after she'd tried to drown me. When they offered to marry me off to the "crippled monster" Charles Moses to save my perfect stepsister from that fate, I didn't fight them. I smiled and said yes. This time, I would walk straight into the lion's den myself.

Chapters

Chapter 6

Early the next morning, a black Mercedes G63 with no license plates idled on the side of the road.

Augustina climbed into the back seat.

The driver, Gus, had been ordered to take her to the marriage exchange. He kept glancing at her through the rearview mirror, his eyes full of contempt.

"You really threw your life away," Gus sneered, tapping the steering wheel. "Going to serve a crippled freak. Hope you enjoy pushing a wheelchair for the rest of your miserable life."

Augustina leaned her head against the cold window. She watched the thick fog rolling in from the hills, treating Gus like he didn't exist.

The G63 drove out of the sunny city limits and entered the deepest, heavily forested private sectors of Beverly Hills.

The GPS screen on the dashboard suddenly flickered and turned to static. The signal was completely jammed.

Towering, century-old redwoods lined the narrow road, blocking out the sun. The temperature inside the car dropped noticeably.

Gus stopped talking. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel. The eerie silence of the woods was suffocating.

The SUV finally stopped in front of massive black wrought-iron gates. The metal was forged into the shape of thorns and black ravens.

There were no security guards in sight. Only military-grade cameras with blinking red lenses tracking the vehicle's movements.

With a heavy, grinding screech of metal, the gates slowly slid open on their own.

Gus swallowed hard. He put the car in park, absolutely refusing to drive onto the property.

"Get out," Gus muttered, his voice shaking. "I'm not going in there."

Augustina grabbed her battered duffel bag. She pushed the door open and hopped down onto the gravel.

The second her feet hit the ground, Gus slammed his foot on the gas. The G63 spun its tires and sped away like it was fleeing a war zone.

Augustina stood alone in the thick fog. She adjusted the strap of her bag and started walking up the long, black gravel driveway.

Ten minutes later, the fog parted.

A massive, imposing structure loomed before her. It was a blend of gothic architecture and a modern fortress.

The exterior walls were a cold, unforgiving charcoal gray. Every window was tinted black, giving the mansion an aura of absolute, suffocating silence.

An elderly man in a pristine black tailcoat stood at the top of the stone steps.

It was Mr. Albright, the British butler. He wore white gloves and stood with flawless, rigid posture.

Albright offered a shallow bow. His voice was crisp and devoid of warmth.

"Welcome, Miss Osborne."

Augustina's eyes flickered. He called her Osborne. The surname she used in the slums, not Hogan. Charles's intelligence network had already stripped away her fake identity. He didn't recognize her as a Hogan.

She nodded calmly and handed her cheap bag to a waiting footman.

Albright led her through the massive, vaulted foyer. Her footsteps echoed loudly against the marble floors.

The walls were lined with dark, abstract oil paintings. The air smelled strongly of cold cedarwood and old paper.

She was led to a guest room at the far end of the second-floor hallway. Not the master suite.

"The Master is currently handling overseas affairs," Albright informed her, standing in the doorway. "He will not be receiving you for a few days."

Albright's eyes hardened slightly. "You are permitted in your room and the first-floor dining hall. The West Wing and the basement are strictly forbidden. Do not wander."

Without waiting for a response, Albright turned and pulled the heavy door shut.

Augustina looked around the room. It was ten times the size of her attic at the Hogan estate, but it felt like an icebox.

She walked over to the window. Down in the courtyard, men in black tactical gear were patrolling with massive Dobermans.

A slow, determined smile touched her lips. She was exactly where she needed to be.

Continue to next part

Dr. Elena Vance’s life is upended when her ex-fiancé, a ruthless corporate heir, attempts to seize her family’s medical research for profit. Refusing to let his greed destroy her father’s legacy, Elena partners with a mysterious security expert to protect her clinic. As legal battles turn into dangerous physical confrontations, she must navigate a web of betrayal and hidden agendas to secure justice and find a love built on true integrity, not power.

Action Modern Romance

8.0

His Betrayal, Her Billion-Dollar Revenge

8.0

For three years, I played the part of a simple housewife for my husband, Cedric. I buried my true self-Eleanor Curry, heiress to a massive security firm-to be the quiet wife he claimed to love. Then a chemical plant exploded. In the chaos, Cedric shielded his teammate, Cassidy, and left me behind in a collapsing building. "Forget her," I heard him tell his men. "She' s useless. A dead weight." I survived, only for him to force me, while I was injured and feverish, to donate blood to Cassidy for her "severe" injuries. But then I overheard them laughing in the next room. Her injuries were a lie. It was all a "little lesson," he said, to teach me my place. As my own wound reopened and bled through my gown, I reached for the hidden device in my bag. "Falcon reporting." A gravelly voice answered instantly. "Welcome home, little bird. We've been waiting."

Action Mystery Romance

9.4

It Turns Out You've Always Been There

9.4

I was diagnosed with acute leukemia the moment I found out York was dating another girl Winnie. My world shattered, and just when I thought it couldn't get worse, his uncle appeared. On their wedding day, Winnie whispered something strange to me. After the wedding, York's true face emerged. Yet, the truth ignited something fierce within me. I couldn't stand by, not even at the cost of my life. I would fight, using every ounce of strength to save him from his own lies. And in my final moments, I realized-York had always been there, hidden in the shadows, loving me in his own twisted way. Even as I bled out, I knew-he had always been there.

Action Modern Romance

7.3

Ninety-Nine Times, Then No More

7.3

This was the ninety-ninth time I caught my husband, Chase Vargas, with another woman in our five-year marriage. I stood in the hotel doorway, numb, tired of the cheap perfume and his cold, familiar eyes. But this time, his mistress, a blonde woman, hissed, "He told me all about you. The pathetic wife he's stuck with because of some business deal. He said he can't stand the sight of you." Her words, meant to hurt, were things I already knew, things Chase had made sure I understood. Still, hearing them from a stranger felt like a new humiliation. She lunged, scratching my face, drawing blood. The sting was a surprising jolt in my numb world. I wrote her a check, a routine part of this pathetic scene. Then my phone rang. It was Chase, calling from across the room. "What are you doing? Are you making a scene? Clean it up and get out. You're embarrassing." He thought I had orchestrated this, that I was the embarrassing one. The betrayal was casual, complete. "I'm tired, Chase," I said, the words finally coming from a place I thought had died. "I want a divorce." He laughed, a cruel sound. "A divorce? Elena, don't be ridiculous. You love me too much to ever leave me." I hung up. He then handed me a signed divorce agreement, telling me his true love, June, my adopted sister, was back. He wanted me to play the dutiful wife for her welcome-home concert. My heart, which I thought had turned to stone, felt a final, crushing blow. He wasn't divorcing me because I wanted it. He was divorcing me for her. I signed the papers. The ninety-ninth time was the last time he would do this to me.

Action Modern Romance

9.6

Revenge Marriage: The Jilted Ballerina's Comeback

9.6

I stood in the ballroom of the Pierre Hotel, holding a champagne flute that felt like a fragile anchor against a rising tide of anxiety. Across the room, the crowd of New York's elite parted as my fiancé, Campbell Brock, stepped onto the stage to announce a historic merger-and a shocking engagement to someone else. "I am proud to announce my engagement to Kandice Rose," he said, pulling the "real" daughter of the family into his arms while looking right through me as if I were a ghost. I dropped my glass, the crystal shattering at my feet, but the public humiliation was only the beginning. By the next morning, I was a viral meme dubbed the "Meltdown Girl," and the American Ballet Theatre had suspended me from my position as principal dancer for "moral turpitude." My bank accounts were frozen, my reputation was in tatters, and Kandice was on a livestream tearfully claiming I was a jealous foster girl who had tried to seduce Campbell behind her back. I had spent four years building a life with this man, only to be discarded like a piece of old wallpaper the moment a better business deal came along. How could the man who promised me a future turn me into a national joke overnight, and why was the world so eager to believe I was the villain in my own tragedy? When my high school best friend, the notorious billionaire playboy Charlton Bernard, found me drinking tequila in a dive bar, he didn't offer me a shoulder to cry on. He slid a marriage contract across the table and pressed a black titanium credit card into my hand. "Marry me for a year, Daphne," he said, his eyes burning with a dark, protective intensity that made my heart race. "We'll join their reality show as newlyweds and show the world exactly who the real winner is." I looked at the card, then at the man who had always been my shadow, and realized that being sensible had only gotten me dumped on a stage. "Let's go get married."

Action Modern Romance

9.2

The Alpha's Abandoned Mate

9.2

Elara’s life shatters when her fated mate, the ruthless Alpha Kaelen, publicly rejects her to pursue a more powerful alliance. Cast out and left for dead in the treacherous neutral zones, she must find the strength to survive alone. However, a hidden power within her blood begins to stir, drawing the attention of rival packs and dangerous foes. As Kaelen regrets his choice, Elara must decide if she will reclaim her place or forge a new destiny.

Action Romance Werewolf

Married to the Tyrant in a Wheelchair

Chapter 6

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