Married To The Vulture Of Wall Street

I had exactly forty-five minutes to get married, or I would lose the voting shares needed to stop my father from laundering millions through our family foundation. Everything was riding on this one legal signature at the City Clerk’s office. But just as I reached the front of the line, my phone buzzed with a high-definition photo of my fiancé, Preston, tangled in sheets with a junior associate at a SoHo hotel. The man I was about to tie my life to was a fraud, and my deadline was ticking toward zero. When I shoved the evidence in his face, he didn't even flinch. Instead, he gripped my wrist until the bone ground together, whispering that I was just a "junkie" fresh out of a Swiss clinic and that no one else would ever marry a liability with a personality disorder. My father was already standing by with a fraudulent medical affidavit, ready to force me into a conservatorship and strip me of my freedom the moment the clock hit 5 PM. They had spent years using my fake "instability" as a leash, treating me like a broken doll while they bled the company dry. I was the only one with the evidence to take them down, yet I was being discarded like a sunk cost by the very men who were supposed to protect me. I looked at Preston’s smug face and realized I didn't need a husband; I needed a predator. I scanned the room and spotted Dominik Mack, the "Vulture of Wall Street," a man who specialized in hostile takeovers and stripping men like my father of everything they owned. I walked straight up to the most dangerous man in New York and offered him a business transaction. "Do you want to get married?" I asked. He looked at my trembling hands, then at the man chasing me, and adjusted his collar with clinical detachment. "Deal," he said. I didn't just find a groom; I found an accomplice. This wasn't a wedding anymore—it was a declaration of war.

Chapters

Chapter 4

"Are you entering into this marriage of your own free will?" the clerk asked. It was a script. She didn't care.

"Yes," Ivy said. Her voice was steel.

"Yes," Dominik said. He sounded like he was ordering a coffee. Bored. Efficient.

The pen felt heavy in her hand. She signed Ivy Mcneil. The letters were jagged, sharp.

Dominik took the pen. He signed his name in a bold, sweeping scrawl that took up two lines. Dominik Mack.

There were no rings. No vows. No "you may kiss the bride." Just the dull thud of a final stamp.

"Good luck," the clerk said. She slid the certificate across the counter. She looked at them like they were a car crash she couldn't look away from.

Ivy picked up the paper. It was just a piece of paper, but it weighed a ton. It was a shield. It was a weapon.

She turned. Preston was still arguing with the bodyguard twenty feet away, but he looked smaller now. Defeated.

Dominik checked his watch. "I have a meeting."

The sentence severed the strange intimacy of the moment. The protector vanished, replaced by the businessman.

"Of course," Ivy said, straightening her spine. "I'll have my lawyers draft the post-nuptial agreement. And the NDA. And arrange your payment."

Dominik raised an eyebrow. "Payment?"

"For your time. For the service."

He stared at her for a second, his eyes dark and unreadable. He didn't answer. He just turned to Ari.

"Handle the noise," he said, gesturing vaguely toward Preston.

Then he walked away. He didn't look back. He moved through the crowd like a shark parting a school of fish.

Ari stepped up to her. He handed her a business card. It was heavy stock, matte black, with silver embossing.

"Mrs. Mack," Ari said. The name sounded alien. "We will be in touch."

Ivy looked at the card.

Mack Capital. CEO.

Her stomach didn't drop. It tightened with the cold thrill of a successful gambit.

Mack Capital. The "Vulture of Wall Street." The hedge fund that specialized in hostile takeovers and stripping distressed assets.

She hadn't just married a stranger. She had married a man who ate companies like her father's for breakfast. She had just tied her primary investigation target to her undercover identity.

She looked up. Preston was staring at Ari. He was staring at the lapel pin on Ari's jacket-the Mack family crest.

Preston's face went from angry to terrified. He knew.

Ivy walked over to Preston. She held up the marriage certificate.

"Tell Harris," she said, using her father's first name. "Tell him I have the votes."

Preston swallowed hard. "You... do you have any idea what you've done? You didn't just marry a guy, Ivy. You married a monster."

Ivy smiled. It was the first time she had smiled all day. It felt sharp.

"I know," she said. "He's my husband."

She turned and walked out the double doors, into the cold New York afternoon.

Continue to next part

My husband left me to die in a fire, choosing to save his mistress while I lost our baby in the flames. But my suffering had only just begun. He and his lover then tried to poison me, swapping my life-saving medication for tranquilizers. When that didn't work, he orchestrated a car crash that shattered my legs, leaving me crippled and helpless. His final act of cruelty was on his yacht. He watched as his mistress framed me, then locked me in a room with a group of thugs who left me for dead. I threw myself into the ocean that night, choosing the cold, dark water over the monsters on that boat. I survived. I rebuilt my life, found a man who cherished my broken pieces, and was about to get married. Then, August crashed my engagement party. He told me he'd destroyed his mistress and was giving me his entire fortune. He thought he could buy his way back into my life. He was about to learn that some things can't be fixed with money.

Action Modern Romance

7.5

His Unwanted Wife, My New Dawn

7.5

For six years, I was the wife of a tech billionaire with crippling mysophobia. To my husband, Killian, I was a contaminant he was forced to tolerate for a business merger, a ghost in my own home. But for his mistress, the influencer Isabel, every rule was broken. He worshipped her, believing she was the angel who' d saved him from a near-fatal climbing accident two years ago. The truth was, I was the one who braved a blizzard to rescue him, suffering severe frostbite in the process. But he laughed in my face, calling me too fragile. He knelt on a filthy police station floor to touch her bare feet, yet he' d recoiled from my touch for years. He destroyed my grandmother' s priceless locket because she wanted it. He forced me to kneel and apologize for her lies, threatening my family's company if I refused. The final humiliation came when he publicly declared her the true mistress of the house and made me climb a dangerous, thorny hill on my injured ankle to pick roses for her. As I stumbled back, covered in mud and blood, I felt nothing. The love I had stubbornly held onto was finally, completely dead. I walked away that night with the signed divorce papers in my hand. My old life was over, and my fight for a new one had just begun.

Action Modern Romance

8.9

My Baby, My Strength, Our Future

8.9

The mangled car teetered on the cliff's edge, my leg crushed, gasoline fumes thick in the air. My husband, Holden, stood safe on the highway, directing the rescue – but not for me. He was saving her, the woman in the passenger seat, leaving me and our unborn child to the ocean below. I woke trapped in the crushed Maybach, leg pinned. The cliff loomed; the driver's seat was empty. Holden, safe outside, directed paramedics past me to Giana, his "most valuable asset," ordering her rescue first. I watched him comfort Giana, oblivious, as the car slid. My baby barely viable. Holden offered a black card for silence; Giana gloated. Ten years of devotion, a cruel lie. Rage fueled me: how could he abandon his wife and child? I swore a venomous oath: never again an accessory. I flicked his card away, shielded my pregnancy, and promised my baby escape.

Action Modern Romance

7.3

My Stepbrother's Deadly Game of Love

7.3

I started a dangerous game to break my perfect, cold stepbrother, Hunter. Our forbidden affair became a secret inferno, and I thought I was the one in control, the one teaching him how to feel. Then an anonymous video arrived on my phone. It showed Hunter with a young intern, repeating our most intimate lines, my words, my lessons, verbatim. "Does this need to be taught, too?" he asked her, his voice a chilling echo of our past. He confessed it was all a calculated revenge plot against my mother. He left me to collapse in the street, sick and alone, and the car crash that followed shattered my legs, ending my ballet career forever. My love was a weapon he used to burn my world to the ground. My body was broken, my dreams turned to ash. I had lost everything to a man I thought I had broken, but who had instead destroyed me. But from the ashes, a new dream was born. I became a choreographer, my pain fueling my art. Now, years later, as I stand on the world stage, he watches from the shadows, a ghost consumed by a regret he can never atone for.

Action Mystery Romance

8.6

Old Team's Costly Mistake

8.6

Elite operative Elias Thorne was once the backbone of his tactical unit until a botched mission led to his betrayal. Framed for a crime he didn't commit, he vanished into the shadows. Now, his former teammates are being targeted by a mysterious assassin, forcing Elias out of hiding. To clear his name, he must navigate a web of lies and high-stakes conspiracies. The past is catching up, and the cost of his team's original error might be their lives.

Action Modern Mystery

8.5

She Built Him, Then She Destroyed

8.5

I built my husband' s career from nothing. I was the architect of his rise, the woman who would make him mayor. But the one thing I didn't plan for was the cheap perfume on his collar-the scent of our new intern. When I confronted him, he didn't apologize. He called me a burden. "She's simple," he said. "She's not... complicated like you." He claimed the affair was a necessary escape so he could tolerate coming home to me. Then, when his campaign fraud was exposed, he tried to pin it on his mistress and used the deepest wound of my life-my brother's death, which he caused-to demand I clean up his mess. He looked at me, the man I had sacrificed everything for, and warned me not to "fall apart on him now." He wanted me to bury the scandal. I looked him in the eye and agreed. "Fine," I said. "I'll bury it." He didn't realize I meant I would bury him.

Action Modern Romance

Married To The Vulture Of Wall Street

Chapter 4

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