The Untouchable Billionaire's Only Healing Touch

I stood outside Room 2206 of the Pierre-Saint Hotel, my thumb hovering over the "Go Live" button on my phone. I wasn't Isa Faulkner, the dutiful fiancée, anymore; I was an executioner ready to broadcast my own ruin to the world. The door swung open to reveal my fiancé, Holden, tangled with a runway model while 50,000 viewers watched the betrayal in real-time. I expected the truth to set me free, but I didn't realize the explosion would destroy me first. My father slapped me across the face for tanking a billion-dollar merger and disowned me on the spot, while my sister Kylee smiled as she took my seat on the board. Within an hour, I was kicked out into the freezing rain with nothing but a suitcase and a broken pearl bracelet. Just as I hit rock bottom, a black Maybach pulled to the curb and Gerhardt Phillips—the "Ice King" of Wall Street—offered me a seat. He was a man who lived behind glass walls and suffered from a touch phobia so severe he hadn't been touched in years, yet he was holding my hand as if I were his only oxygen. I didn't understand why my presence was the only thing that could stop his violent tremors, or why I found my mother’s "lost" necklace hidden in his family’s private vault. I certainly didn't understand why I overheard his father plotting to "dispose" of me the same way they had handled my mother years ago. What really happened in the fire that killed my mother, and why was the man I just married the only one who knew the truth? I gripped the contract he gave me and prepared for a life in the lion's den. "I'll marry you, Gerhardt," I said, looking into his cold, ice-blue eyes. "But when we're done, I want enough gasoline to burn the Faulkner name to ash."

Chapters

Chapter 7

"Welcome home," Gerhardt said.

Isa looked up at the building. It was a glass monolith in Tribeca. The Penthouse.

"The Glass House," he corrected. "My architect has a fetish for transparency."

They took the private elevator up. The apartment was stunning, she had to admit. Floor-to-ceiling windows offering a 360-degree view of Manhattan. But there were no walls.

"Where are the rooms?" she asked.

"The partitions are glass," Gerhardt said, walking into the kitchen. "They fog up when you hit a switch. But essentially... privacy is a myth here."

"Great," she muttered. "A fishbowl."

"Sterling sent over your schedule," he said, sliding a tablet across the marble island. "Charity gala on Tuesday. Flower show on Wednesday. And the Obsidian House auction on Friday."

Isa's head snapped up. Obsidian House. Her auction house.

"I'll go," she said quickly. Too quickly.

Gerhardt paused, a glass of water halfway to his mouth. "You're eager."

"I like antiques."

That night was the first true test. The bed.

It was a California King, thank god. She built a wall of pillows down the center.

"Is that necessary?" Gerhardt asked, watching her from his side.

"It's the Great Wall of Isa. Cross it and die."

He snorted and turned off the light. "Goodnight, wife."

Isa lay awake for hours, staring at the city lights. The events of the last few days swirled in her head. The necklace. Christopher's words. Gerhardt's scars.

Around 3:00 AM, a sound woke her.

A whimper.

She turned. Gerhardt was thrashing in his sleep. His brow was furrowed, sweat slicking his skin.

"No," he mumbled. "No... please... dark..."

He was having a nightmare. Probably about whatever caused those scars.

She reached through the pillow wall. "Gerhardt?"

She touched his arm.

He gasped, his eyes flying open. He didn't recognize her for a second. He looked terrified.

Then, his gaze focused. He saw her.

He didn't pull away. He lunged.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her through the pillow fort. He buried his face in her neck, his breathing ragged.

"Stay," he commanded, his voice thick with sleep.

"I'm here," she whispered, despite herself. "I'm not going anywhere."

He tangled his legs with hers. He was heavy, warm, and solid. The shaking stopped. Within seconds, his breathing evened out. He was asleep.

Isa was trapped. Pinned down by a two-hundred-pound billionaire.

She sighed, looking at the ceiling.

"You owe me a chiropractor," she whispered to the sleeping man.

But she didn't push him away.

Keep Watching!

The story is getting intense! Switch to App to continue reading

Unlock All Episodes

Open the Official Website

After losing her unborn child due to the cruel interference of her husband's mistress, a devastated woman decides she has had enough. Refusing to endure any more betrayal or heartache within her toxic marriage, she chooses to reclaim her dignity and file for divorce. This billionaire romance follows her journey as she severs ties with her unfaithful spouse, seeking a fresh start and justice after the tragic loss that shattered her world.

Billionaire Modern Romance

9.3

More Than His Partner, She's Queen

9.3

For five years, I was Ashton Miller's invisible partner, his loyal fiancée, pouring my life into building his empire from the shadows. Tonight, the Bronze Deer exhibition, my masterpiece, was finally opening at the Met, a testament to our shared future. Then, Bianca, a third-tier actress, stepped into the spotlight in *my* custom Vera Wang wedding dress. My blood ran cold as Ashton's arm circled her waist, his whispered words promising to make her the "new queen of the city." Five years of trust and sacrifice crumbled. I was a blood bag, drained and discarded. When I publicly exposed their lies, Ashton cornered me backstage, his face twisted in fury, threatening to ruin me, to blacklist me forever. I ripped off his engagement ring, tossing it at his chest. "We're done," I said, walking out as his enraged screams echoed. The man whose empire I secretly built called me a parasite, his mistress feigning tears, painting me as delusional. My guilt vanished, replaced by freezing, absolute hatred for the man who twisted reality to erase my existence. Standing in the New York rain, I finally pulled out the military-grade encrypted phone hidden for five years. The line clicked open instantly, a low, gravelly voice asking, "Is it you?" Before I could answer, Archer's voice hardened: "Give me the location. I'll be there in ten minutes. Who touched you? I want his life."

Billionaire Modern Romance

8.8

Shattered Innocence: My Brother's Dark Desire

8.8

I lived in the shadow of the Randolph estate, a scholarship girl who spent years calling the heir of the family "brother." I thought the cold distance between us was my protection, a boundary that would keep me safe in a world of wealth and power. Then I woke up on the thick Persian rug of his private study, my body aching and my mind fractured by disjointed, violent memories of whiskey and his scorching touch. Panic flooded my chest as I scrambled to cover myself with a discarded blouse, desperately stammering that it was a mistake, a drunken lapse in judgment. But Hunter sat on the sofa, unbothered and terrifyingly sober. He watched me with eyes that lacked any hint of the haze that clouded my own. "I wasn't drunk, Herminia." The air left the room. He had been fully aware while I was lost in the smoke. Before I could flee, he caught me, his fingers digging into my waist with a grip that felt more like a claim than a rescue. A dark purple bruise bloomed on my neck—a mark of possession that meant my life was over if our mother, Barbara, ever saw it. Instead of letting me go, Hunter used my terror to tighten the noose. He manipulated Barbara into moving me to the East Wing, his private sector where no staff were allowed and every door was a dead end. I became a prisoner in a silk-lined cage, watched by bodyguards he hired to "protect" me from the very scandal he created. At breakfast, I had to sit in silence as Barbara planned his marriage to a wealthy heiress, all while his foot pressed possessively against my leg under the table. He wanted a perfect wife for the cameras and me hidden in his wing as his "common distraction." He even tasted the blood from my wounded finger, whispering that I was his. I looked at the high lace collar hiding my shame and the bars on my beautiful windows. My "brother" was a predator who had bought everyone I trusted, from the maids to my own assistant. As the florists began delivering lilies for his engagement party, I realized I was standing on the edge of a bottomless abyss, and the only person holding the key to my cage was the monster who wanted to consume me.

Billionaire Horror Romance

7.4

Sold to be a Billionaire's Slave

7.4

"You like being touched like a dirty whore. Don't you, Zoe?" "Yes, Mr. Gatsby." Zoe never imagined her life could fall apart so quickly. Sold at a secret auction, betrayed by her stepfather after her mother's death., she is bought by Brayden Gatsby, a ruthless billionaire whose wealth hides darker appetites. In his world, her body is no longer her own. Every command tests her limits. Every punishment strips away who she used to be and she gets introduced to sinful fantasies. But submission isn't the end. It's the beginning.Because beneath the chains and the brutal lessons lies a dangerous connection, one Zoe isn't supposed to want. Brayden is merciless, possessive, and utterly in control... yet the more he breaks her, the more he awakens something raw inside her.Caught between pain and pleasure, fear and desire, Zoe must decide: fight for the freedom stolen from her... or surrender completely to the man who bought her as his slave.

Action Billionaire Modern

8.2

The Last Lunar Phoenix

8.2

Elara, the final survivor of the Lunar Phoenix bloodline, hides her mythical identity while working for Silas Vane, a ruthless billionaire and secret Alpha. Their lives collide when a corporate merger threatens her sanctuary, forcing Silas to choose between his ambition and the woman he is destined to protect. As ancient rivals emerge to claim her power, Elara must trust her cold-hearted boss to survive the looming supernatural war.

Billionaire Romance Werewolf

8.1

The Penniless Ex-Wife's Spectacular Comeback

8.1

For three years, I swallowed every humiliation to warm my billionaire husband's frozen heart. But at his birthday banquet, the obsidian cufflinks I spent three sleepless nights carving were crushed into worthless powder. Carly, the woman he truly loved, had intentionally tripped and slammed into my arm. When the velvet box fell, I dropped to my knees on pure instinct. My bare hands were deeply sliced by the jagged shards, warm blood dripping onto the pristine marble floor. But Dominic didn't even spare a single glance at his bleeding wife. He protectively cradled Carly, his voice thick with concern as he asked if she was hurt. He let the entire ballroom laugh at me, calling me a piece of trash that wasn't even fit to touch the hotel carpet. When I later confronted him about the secret estate where he hid her, he nearly broke my jaw. "A toxic bitch like you deserves to rot in a loveless marriage." I finally understood. My marriage was just a cruel prison designed to torture me for a debt I supposedly owed. I didn't shed a single tear. I went back to the penthouse, signed the divorce papers waiving all my assets, and walked barefoot into the freezing New York storm. To survive, I took a job as the personal executive assistant to his biggest enemy on Wall Street. But when I showed up at an industry dinner wearing a stunning designer suit next to another man, the cold tyrant who had thrown me away completely lost his mind.

Billionaire Modern Romance

The Untouchable Billionaire's Only Healing Touch

Chapter 7

You may also like