Marrying My Runaway Groom's Powerful Father

I was sitting in the Presidential Suite of The Pierre, wearing a Vera Wang gown worth more than most people earn in a decade. It was supposed to be the wedding of the century, the final move to merge two of Manhattan's most powerful empires. Then my phone buzzed. It was an Instagram Story from my fiancé, Jameson. He was at Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris with a caption that read: "Fuck the chains. Chasing freedom." He hadn't just gotten cold feet; he had abandoned me at the altar to run across the world. My father didn't come in to comfort me. He burst through the door roaring about a lost acquisition deal, telling me the Holland Group would strip our family for parts if the ceremony didn't happen by noon. My stepmother wailed about us becoming the laughingstock of the Upper East Side. The Holland PR director even suggested I fake a "panic attack" to make myself look weak and sympathetic to save their stock price. Then Jameson’s sleazy cousin, Pierce, walked in with a lopsided grin, offering to "step in" and marry me just to get his hands on my assets. I looked at them and realized I wasn't a daughter or a bride to anyone in that room. I was a failed asset, a bouncing check, a girl whose own father told her to go to Paris and "beg" the man who had just publicly humiliated her. The girl who wanted to be loved died in that mirror. I realized that if I was going to be sold to save a merger, I was going to sell myself to the one who actually controlled the money. I marched past my parents and walked straight into the VIP holding room. I looked the most powerful man in the room—Jameson’s cold, ruthless uncle, Fletcher Holland—dead in the eye and threw the iPad on the table. "Jameson is gone," I said, my voice as hard as stone. "Marry me instead."

Chapters

Chapter 6

She sat up, the silence of the massive house pressing against her ears. She slid out of bed and found a silk robe in the closet-one that had clearly been stocked by an assistant overnight.

She walked out of the master suite and down the hallway. As she approached the grand staircase, the sound of clinking china drifted up from the dining room, accompanied by hushed whispers.

She paused at the landing, hidden by the shadow of a marble bust.

Two maids were dusting the banister below.

"Poor thing," one whispered. "Imagine marrying him. They say he hasn't been... capable... since the helicopter crash."

"Shh," the other hissed, looking around nervously. "But it makes sense. No women in ten years? He's probably got nerve damage down there. She's basically a nurse with a ring."

Estella didn't flinch. She didn't gasp. She simply leaned against the cool marble of the bust, a dry smile touching her lips. She had known about this rumor for years. It was one of the key variables in her risk assessment algorithm before she walked into that VIP room. The world thought the Lion of Wall Street was broken, a eunuch in a bespoke suit.

To Estella, that wasn't a tragedy. It was a safety feature. It meant her new husband was unlikely to demand things she wasn't ready to give.

She deliberately stomped her heel against the floorboard. Thud.

The maids jumped, nearly dropping their feather dusters. They went pale as they saw her descending the stairs.

Estella ignored them, sweeping past with her head high. She walked into the dining room.

Fletcher was there. He sat at the head of the long mahogany table, dressed in a crisp white shirt and a grey vest. He was reading the Wall Street Journal and drinking black coffee. He looked vibrant, powerful, and distinctively not damaged.

Estella pulled out the chair at the opposite end of the table-a mile away.

"Sleep well?" Fletcher asked without looking up.

"Like the dead," Estella replied. She unfolded her napkin. "The maids think you're impotent."

Nina, who was standing by the sideboard pouring juice, choked. She coughed violently into her hand.

Fletcher froze. The paper lowered slowly. He looked at Estella across the expanse of polished wood. His eyes narrowed, but there was a glint of amusement in the grey depths.

"Who says?" he asked, his voice level.

"Everyone, apparently," Estella said, buttering a piece of toast. "They think the crash ruined your plumbing. It's actually quite a popular theory. It explains why a twenty-four-year-old would marry you. They think I'm safe. A glorified companion."

Fletcher set the paper down completely. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. The movement rippled the muscles in his forearms.

"And are you disappointed?" he asked softly. "That I didn't disprove the rumor last night?"

Estella felt heat rush to her cheeks, but she held her ground. "I don't care about your plumbing, Fletcher. I care about the utility of the lie. If everyone thinks you can't perform, Grand Dame can't pressure me for an heir immediately."

Fletcher stared at her. Then, a low chuckle rumbled in his chest. It was a rusty sound, like an engine that hadn't been started in years.

"Smart," he murmured. "Let them talk. It keeps the vultures away."

"Exactly," Estella said. "We use it."

Fletcher stood up. He picked up his jacket from the back of the chair. He walked the length of the table until he was standing right behind her.

He leaned down. His mouth was inches from her ear.

"There is a charity gala tonight," he whispered. His voice dropped to a register that vibrated in her spine. "Wear something red. And Estella?"

"Yes?" she breathed, gripping her fork.

"Don't dress like a victim. Dress like the woman who owns the man everyone else is afraid of."

He straightened up, his hand brushing her shoulder-a touch that was electric and firm.

"Car leaves at seven," he said, and walked out of the room.

Estella sat there for a moment, her heart hammering against her ribs. She touched her ear where his breath had lingered.

Nerve damage. Yeah, right. He was dangerous. Lethally so.

She turned to Nina, who was still recovering.

"Get me a stylist," Estella ordered. "And get me the reddest dress in New York."

---

Continue to next part

In a world of wolf shifters, Clara Joyner's sacred bond with Alpha Julian Chase shatters when he vanishes, only to reappear with another she-wolf posing as her. Blinded by a tragic accident and trapped in a web of lies, Clara discovers Julian's betrayal runs deeper than she feared-he's not only chosen Lydia but orchestrated her suffering. After a harrowing escape and rebirth, Clara reclaims her identity and passion for dance, only to be hunted by a remorseful Julian who's lost his memory-and his mind. As she builds a new life with Nick, a dangerous game of secrets, revenge, and second chances unfolds, leaving Clara to decide: Can she outrun the past, or will love and loyalty condemn her to repeat it?

Action Romance Werewolf

9.1

Every Vow But One

9.1

Leo Vance builds things that last. Bridges. Buildings. A quiet, unspoken life with the woman he loves. What he has never been able to build is the courage to name what they are. On the morning of his wedding to botanical illustrator Elara Ashford, Leo stands in a chapel in a suit he cannot bring himself to fully button, and realizes something that stops him cold - he has already been married to her. Not in any courtroom or ceremony, but in every moment that actually counted. The night she held his hand at his mother's funeral and said nothing, because nothing was the right thing to say. The years they ate ramen so he could chase a dream she believed in before he did. The night she stood in the doorway during their worst fight and looked him in the eye and refused to let him run. He has said I do a thousand times in a thousand unspoken ways. So why does saying it out loud feel like the beginning of the end? What Leo doesn't know is that Elara has been sitting with her own impossible question for three weeks - ever since she found a note in his jacket pocket that made her wonder whether the man she is about to marry proposed because he chose her, or because someone told him he was about to lose her. What neither of them knows is that the woman he was secretly engaged to four years ago just walked into the venue. His best man is in love with his bride. His estranged father is standing outside in a rented suit, unable to go in. And the wedding videographer has been filming everything - with two cameras. By the time the officiant asks who gives this woman, nothing about this wedding will have gone according to the blueprint. But then again, the most important things Leo has ever built never did. Every Vow But One is a lux serialized romance about the terrifying distance between loving someone completely and choosing them on purpose and what it can cost when you finally close the gap.

Action Modern Romance

7.1

His Dangerous Touch

7.1

Aurora Andrews has never known a life free from pain. Orphaned and left in the care of her cruel uncle and aunt, she endured years of abuse that taught her the safest place was in the shadows. But even in college, her silence couldn't shield her from the cruelty of her peers. Just as she reaches her breaking point, fate intervenes in the form of Alexander Mark, the powerful and enigmatic CEO of the Vanguard Group company. Alexander saves her from a nightmare, but one impulsive, accidental night binds their fates together. When the morning light comes, he leaves her with a heartless dismissal, assuming she is just another gold digger looking for a payout. But Aurora carries a secret more precious than anything. Forced to drop out of school to protect her unborn baby, Aurora fights to survive in a world that wants to break her. But the shadows of her past are closing in; what will happen when her abusive aunt and uncle discover she is pregnant? And what will become of her when Alexander Mark walks back into her life, unaware of the child growing in her womb? He left her thinking she was a whore. But the truth is far more dangerous. When their paths inevitably cross again, will he accept the child as his own? Or will he destroy the only chance Aurora has at a happy ending? "I'm not a whore, I promise you, Sir. I just wanted to save you... and nothing else."

Action Billionaire Modern

8.2

Scars of Betrayal, Sisters' New Power

8.2

My unborn child died because my husband ignored my desperate pleas. He chose to prioritize a staged emergency from his manipulative adopted sister, Holly, leaving me and my own sister to be brutally attacked by thugs. As I bled out on the street, my sister, Jayde, finally got him on the phone. We heard his voice, calm and soothing, telling Holly everything was fine. When Jayde screamed that I was having a miscarriage, he accused us of being dramatic. "This is exactly what Holly warned us about," he said coldly, before hanging up. In the hospital, the doctors confirmed the worst. My baby was gone, and I could never have another. Jayde's hands, the hands of a brilliant concert pianist, were permanently crippled. Our husbands, the men who were supposed to protect us, had abandoned us for a lie. But as I stared at Jayde' s ruined hands and felt the crushing emptiness in my own body, a cold resolve solidified within me. They thought they had broken us. They had only forged us into something far more dangerous.

Action Modern Romance

7.7

Seducing And Playing My Alphas

7.7

Five years ago, Zaria Blackthorne lost everything. Framed as a traitor's daughter, she watched her parents die, was betrayed by her fated mate, Callum Nightbane, and cast into prison-only to be saved by a monster who wanted to ruin her. That night, she should have died. But fate had other plans. Now, she's back. No longer the naïve girl who once begged for mercy, she has been reborn as Celeste Draven, the temptress of Nightbane Academy. With a new identity, a rare bloodline that makes her irresistible, and a body forged for seduction, she is ready to dismantle the lives of those who betrayed her-one sinful encounter at a time. But revenge comes at a cost. Three powerful men are obsessed with her and they are a tool in her revenge games and then she realised the deeper she played, the harder it becomes to keep the men in control. And what do you think will happen when the truth comes to light, and she discovered she was being played herself? Will she sacrifice her love for vengeance or allow her enemies to burn and claim the throne for herself? Dive into this story of betrayal, revenge, reverse haram, and obsession, where no man actually owns Zaria Blackthorne.

Action LGBT+Mystery Romance

9.4

Taming The Sinner: The Doctor’s Cold Game

9.4

I stood before the double doors of the master suite, my hand hovering inches from the polished brass. As a surgeon, I was trained to steady my heart before a cut, but the silence in the Alexander estate felt like the heavy, oppressive pause that always preceded a scream. I pushed the mahogany door open to find my fiancé, Authur, tangled in Egyptian cotton sheets with a woman named Jasmine. The air was thick with the scent of expensive cigars and a floral perfume that wasn't mine—a brutal reality check just twenty-four hours before the merger meant to save my family from total ruin. Authur didn't look guilty; he looked amused, coldly telling me to close the door because I was letting in a draft. When his parents unexpectedly arrived, I was forced to hide his mistress and pretend our "intensity" had ruined the room, donning his discarded shirt to look disheveled just to protect the Lawrence family stock price. The humiliation only deepened on our wedding morning when Authur issued a sadistic ultimatum over the phone. "Wear your scrubs to the altar—the ones covered in blood—or I'll watch your father's company go belly up by lunch." He wanted to turn our wedding at St. Patrick’s Cathedral into a public execution of my dignity. I walked down the aisle in shapeless navy cotton and crimson stains, enduring the horrified gasps of the elite who labeled me an "insane gold digger." Authur stood at the altar, reeking of whiskey and malice, certain he had finally broken me and turned my professional oath into a circus act. But as the priest began the vows, I looked at the man who thought he owned me and realized I wasn't his victim—I was his surgeon. I had the footage of his debauchery ready to play for the world, and as we shared a punishing, hateful kiss for the cameras, I knew the real war had only just begun.

Action Modern Romance

Marrying My Runaway Groom's Powerful Father

Chapter 6

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