A billionaire plays alter ego in this breath taking narrative. He goes out to the same woman using two different identities
A billionaire plays alter ego in this breath taking narrative. He goes out to the same woman using two different identities
Violla Milan felt like she had been aimlessly walking in the desert for a very long time. The heat was overwhelming, making her feel like she was burning up. She desperately longed to quench her thirst.
In her dazed state, a man's icy lips covered hers, providing a temporary respite from the scorching heat. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck, indulging in their passionate encounter.
Moans and pants filled the room, their shadows dancing on the wall, consumed by their burning desire. The dim light prevented Violla from seeing the man's face clearly, but she was overwhelmed by his prowess in bed. They engaged in a wild and savage embrace until dawn broke, and he left.
As Violla gradually regained consciousness, her eyes struggled to focus. She caught a blurry glimpse of the man's back, adorned with a tattoo of a vicious cobra's head at the small of his back. The sight of the tattoo filled her with fear and her heart raced in response.
Violla found herself caught in a dream where she transformed into a vine entwined around a colossal tree, unable to break free. When she awoke, her body ached terribly, adding to her confusion.
Sitting up in bed with a splitting headache, Violla surveyed the chaotic scene around her. The bed was in disarray, and a torn men's shirt lay on the floor. Shocked, she desperately tried to piece together the events of the previous night.
She recalled that at her engagement party, her fiancee had betrayed her, pushing her to the brink of despair. In an attempt to console her, her cousin Leila Smith had taken her to Empire Night to drown her sorrows in alcohol.
In her intoxicated state, Violla had impulsively declared her desire for revenge against her fiancee. Without hesitation, Leila had arranged for a male escort to accompany Violla. As the memories flooded back, Violla clutched her chest in shock, realizing that she had lost her virginity to a stranger. Overwhelmed with frustration, she tugged at her hair in despair.
After some time, Violla snapped out of her trance and hastily dressed herself. As she hurried out of the hotel, a swarm of reporters descended upon her, accompanied by blinding camera flashes and a barrage of harsh questions.
"Miss Milan, is it true that you spent the night with a male escort from Empire Night after your engagement was called off by the Stanleys?" one reporter asked.
Violla Milan stood there, her heart pounding, as the barrage of shocking questions hit her one after another.
"Miss Milan, are you aware that the male escort is a transvestite?" one person asked.
"Miss Milan, did you know your father has gone bankrupt?" another inquired.
"Miss Milan, we have just received news that your father has committed suicide. He jumped off his company's building," yet another person added.
Violla's mind went blank, as if she had just been struck by lightning. Overwhelmed by the devastating revelations, she fled from the scene, unable to find the right words to respond.
The next morning, the headlines blazed with news about Violla and her father: "Richest Man in Red City, Gerald Milan, Goes Bankrupt and Commits Suicide," "Franklin Stanley Dumps Daughter of Gerald Milan โ Violla Milan," "Violla Milan Spends Night at Club with Transvestite Male Escort." Each piece of breaking news quickly made its way to the headlines, turning Violla, once a wealthy heiress, into a despicable and immoral figure overnight. She had lost everything โ her family, her fortune, and her reputation.
Ten months later, the cries of babies filled the air in an unremarkable countryside clinic.
Mrs. Blake approached Violla, holding a baby in her arms, her face filled with excitement. "Miss, congratulations. You have given birth to triplets โ two boys and a girl!"
๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐, ๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐'๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐.
Violla arrived in the city with her kids and Mrs. Blake. The plump Mrs. Blake was holding two big pieces of luggage, heaving as she walked. Violla had a denim backpack slung over her shoulder as she squeezed out of the busy train station with her three kids.
To others, they looked like a poor family from the countryside coming to the city to rely on their relatives. "Out of my way, country bumpkin!" A woman wearing a fur coat harshly shoved Mrs. Blake away and insulted her. Violla was about to reprimand that woman when a fleet of luxury cars came to a stop beside her.
Before anyone could react, dozens of security guards alighted from their vehicles and formed two neat rows. Giving a deep bow, they called out in unison, "Welcome back, Mrs. Stanley!"
Hearing the name 'Stanley,' Violla glanced at the convoy and saw the Stanley crest on the cars. ''Are they here for me?'' She grew excited at that thought.
''Could it be that Franklin never betrayed me? Did he call off our engagement because he had no other choice back then? Now that he knows I am back, he must be here to pick me up!'' Violla thought.
"Miss, is Mr. Stanley here to pick us up?" Mrs. Blake asked. A delighted Mrs. Blake was about to step forward when two security guards rudely pushed them away.
A graceful woman dressed in expensive clothing walked out, flanked by an entourage.
Violla's lips parted in surprise. ''Isn't this Leila Smith?'' she asked herself. Leila was clad in a designer suit. She looked more elegant than she was four years ago. Her fingers were curled around the little hand of a boy around the same age as Violla's triplets.
"Mrs. Stanley, Titus this way, please," the security guards greeted them politely.
"I will never take the train again. It's filthy and full of commoners," declared Leila, covering her nose with her handkerchief in disdain.
"Yes, yes. If it weren't for the weather, Mr. Stanley wouldn't have let you and Titus suffer," said the security guard. The security guards escorted Leila and the little boy into a car. Both Leila and her son were so arrogant they didn't even glance around them. Thus, they failed to notice Violla in the crowd.
"What is going on?" Mrs. Blake recognized Leila and blurted out. "Isn't that your cousin? Is she married to Mr. Stanley now?"
"I think so." Violla said. As Stanley's convoy drove away,
''He said I will be his only bride in this life.But now, he's married to my cousin. They even have a big son!'' Violla thought to herself.Tears prickled at Violla's eyes as her nose burned.
"Mommy, what's wrong?" The kids asked when they spotted Violla's red-rimmed eyes, all three of them surrounded her and voiced their concerns. "I am fine." Violla muttered while wiping her eyes dry, she knelt down and pulled the three of them in for a hug.
"Mommy, don't be sad. When I grow up, I'll buy a big car for you. Then, you won't have to suffer anymore," offered her eldest son, Ryan. He thought she was upset because someone had harassed her.
"Mommy, who harassed you? Let me beat them up!" Jason, the second boy, waved his fists adorably and puffed up his cheeks.
Eliana, the youngest of the triplets, rubbed her cheek against Violla's and comforted her. "Mommy, don't cry!"
"Don't cry! Don't cry!" Suddenly, a green head poked out of Eliana's pocket. It belonged to a cheeky parrot that was glancing around curiously at that moment.
"No, I'm not crying," Violla said, inhaling sharply and putting on a smile. "Come on, let's go home!" she added. "Yay, let's go!" the kids chirped excitedly.
Violla gave each of them a kiss before slinging the backpack over her shoulder again and heading out to hail a cab. She used to be a wealthy heiress with an entourage wherever she went, but now she had to queue up to hail a cab with Mrs. Blake and her kids. Not to mention, she was heavily loaded with their baggage. Since they couldn't all fit in one cab, Mrs. Blake had to take a separate one by herself.
There was an overcast sky, and a storm seemed imminent. Hoping to avoid it, the cab driver was speeding anxiously along the road when suddenly, he rammed into an Aston Martin up ahead. The cab driver's face turned pale instantly, and he got out of his cab to check the situation.
Violla sat in the passenger seat and looked out of the window, furrowing her brows. It was a limited-edition Aston Martin, with only three units in South Nation and thirty-five worldwide. Even if it were a minor scratch, the cab driver would have to compensate a substantial amount of money, which might cause him to go bankrupt.
The conflict was going to be a hassle and would probably take a long time to resolve. Looking up, Violla noticed that the sky had turned a gloomy grey. The storm was about to hit anytime.
She didn't want her kids to get soaked in the rain, especially Eliana, who had been physically weak since she was young. The little girl would definitely catch a cold if she got wet.
"Ryan, Jason, Eliana, stay in the car. I'll go down and see what's happening," Violla told her children before getting out of the cab.
"Mommy, be careful!" the kids yelled out unanimously. Finny the parrot poked its head out of Eliana's pocket again curiously.
Eliana gave it a tiny snack and gently petted its fluffy head. "Finny, hold on tight. We'll be home soon!" she told the parrot.
"Sir, I'm sorry. I didn't hit your car on purpose," the cab driver explained nervously. "It was the passenger's fault. She has three kids and a lot of baggage. My cab is overloaded, so I accidentally bumped into your car." When he saw Violla, he immediately pointed at her. "You're responsible for this!"
"Huh? Why?" she exclaimed.
Violla was about to retort when the window of the Aston rolled down. "Forget it. The boss is busy!" The man seated in the passenger seat spoke as he glanced over Violla.
"Yes!" The man in the suit nodded and told the cab driver to drive carefully next time before leaving. Violla instinctively gazed at the backseat of the Aston when the driver opened the door. To her surprise, she saw a half-naked man with his back turned to her.
A snarly wound snaked across his back as blood trickled down onto the snake head tattoo on the small of his back. Cobra head tattoo? The cobra head tattoo!
Violla's eyes widened in disbelief. She stared at the tattoo wordlessly as her heart jumped to her throat. The ferocious cobra was gazing at her, its eyes stained bright red by the man's blood, looking ever so bloodthirsty. It's him! It really is him!
"Move out of the way!" The cab driver gave Violla an abrupt push, causing her to topple to the ground. When she looked up again, the Aston had disappeared from sight. Violla felt her head buzzing as she stared at the empty road ahead.
"Was that him in the car just now? The kids' father? Wasn't he a man's escort at Empire Night? Why was he in that expensive car with that horrible wound?"
"Hey, why did you push my mommy?" Jason waved his fists angrily at the cab driver.
"Brat, stop yelling at me. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have gotten this unlucky," cursed the cab driver.
"You were the one speeding before hitting that car. That's none of our business!" Ryan retorted in his bubbly voice. "As your passengers, we're not responsible for your mistake! You violated the traffic law. We can file a complaint against you!"
"Yes, you harassed Mommy. I will ask the police to arrest you!" Eliana pouted furiously and pointed at someone in the middle of the road. "There's a traffic police!" Finny, who was perched on her shoulder, chirped out instantly. "Traffic police! Traffic police!"
"What a nuisance. Get off! I refuse to take you to your destination anymore." The cab driver proceeded to open his trunk and threw their baggage in the middle of the road before leaving in a huff.
"Hey! How could you?" Violla whined. She picked up her baggage clumsily and brought the kids to the side of the road.
Meanwhile, the man in the backseat of the Aston Martin, Davon Roman, looked up and glanced at the rearview mirror. "That woman looks familiar. Where have I seen her before?" he thought to himself.
"Mr. Roman, I'll inject the anesthetic now!" said the doctor who was dealing with his wound. "No need," Davon said. The man was reading a file in his hand. His wound was bleeding profusely, but he wasn't bothered at all.
"Um, this may sting a little then. I'm going to stitch your wound up."
Frowning, the doctor started stitching the wound up. As there was no anesthetic involved, the doctor was more nervous than usual. The man's tanned skin glinted under the light icily. His muscles contracted from the immense pain, but his expression remained the same.
Hidden for years by the state despite a fortune worth billions, Grace bounced through three foster homes. At her fourth stop, the wealthy Holden family showered her with care, sparking spiteful claims she was a despicable grifter. Those lies died when a university president greeted her. "Professor, your lab's ready." A top CEO presented a folder. "Boss, our profits soared by 300% this year!" An international hacker organization came to her doorstep. "The financial market would crash without you!" Colton, a mysterious tycoon, pinned her softly. "Fun's over. Let's go make some babies." Grace's cheeks flared. "I didn't agree to that!" He slid a black card into her hand. "One island per baby."
Camille Lewis was the forgotten daughter, the unloved wife, the woman discarded like yesterday's news. Betrayed by her husband, cast aside by her own family, and left for dead by the sister who stole everything, she vanished without a trace. But the weak, naive Camille died the night her car was forced off that bridge. A year later, she returns as Camille Kane, richer, colder, and more powerful than anyone could have imagined. Armed with wealth, intelligence, and a hunger for vengeance, she is no longer the woman they once trampled on. She is the storm that will tear their world apart. Her ex-husband begs for forgiveness. Her sister's perfect life crumbles. Her parents regret the daughter they cast aside. But Camille didn't come back for apologies, she came back to watch them burn. But as her enemies fall at her feet, one question remains: when the revenge is over, what's left? A mysterious trillionaire Alexander Pierce steps into her path, offering something she thought she lost forever, a future. But can a woman built on ashes learn to love again? She rose from the fire to destroy those who betrayed her. Now, she must decide if she'll rule alone... or let someone melt the ice in her heart.
On the night of our engagement, I learned the truth-his heart still belonged to someone else, his first love. Three years slipped by while I pretended to be ugly and a fool, helping him rise from housekeeper's son to talk of the town. But he stood by as she accused me of theft and even sent men to ruin me. "She stole my beloved's success. Do whatever you want with her." For years, I had hidden behind a mask, and he probably never realized that the true heiress to a vast fortune was right before his eyes. I stopped pretending. When everyone mocked me, I stunned them with my real beauty. Anyone who tried to steal my work found their plans crushed. My ex tried to humiliate me, so I forced his father to kneel and apologize. The school buzzed, trying to guess who was backing me. My father, the richest man alive, said, "She is my daughter." The nation's top doctor added, "No one can threaten my mentor." The leader of a global arms syndicate took me in his arms and declared, "She is my woman." Watching the scene as he knelt, my ex burst into tears, begging for a second chance.
For eight years, Cecilia Moore was the perfect Luna, loyal, and unmarked. Until the day she found her Alpha mate with a younger, purebred she-wolf in his bed. In a world ruled by bloodlines and mating bonds, Cecilia was always the outsider. But now, she's done playing by wolf rules. She smiles as she hands Xavier the quarterly financials-divorce papers clipped neatly beneath the final page. "You're angry?" he growls. "Angry enough to commit murder," she replies, voice cold as frost. A silent war brews under the roof they once called home. Xavier thinks he still holds the power-but Cecilia has already begun her quiet rebellion. With every cold glance and calculated step, she's preparing to disappear from his world-as the mate he never deserved. And when he finally understands the strength of the heart he broke... It may be far too late to win it back.
Isabelle's love for Kolton held flawless for fifteen years-until the day she delivered their children and slipped into a coma. He leaned to her ear and whispered, "Don't wake up. You're worthless to me now." The twins later clutched another woman's hand and chirped, "Mommy," splintering Isabelle's heart. She woke, filed for divorce, and disappeared. Only then did Kolton notice her fingerprints on every habit. They met again: she emerged as the lead medical specialist, radiant and unmoved. But at her engagement gala, she leapt into a tycoon's arms. Jealous, he crushed a glass, blood wetting his palm. He believed as soon as he made a move, Isabelle would return to him. After all, she had loved him deeply.
Being second best is practically in my DNA. My sister got the love, the attention, the spotlight. And now, even her damn fiancรฉ. Technically, Rhys Granger was my fiancรฉ now-billionaire, devastatingly hot, and a walking Wall Street wet dream. My parents shoved me into the engagement after Catherine disappeared, and honestly? I didn't mind. I'd crushed on Rhys for years. This was my chance, right? My turn to be the chosen one? Wrong. One night, he slapped me. Over a mug. A stupid, chipped, ugly mug my sister gave him years ago. That's when it hit me-he didn't love me. He didn't even see me. I was just a warm-bodied placeholder for the woman he actually wanted. And apparently, I wasn't even worth as much as a glorified coffee cup. So I slapped him right back, dumped his ass, and prepared for disaster-my parents losing their minds, Rhys throwing a billionaire tantrum, his terrifying family plotting my untimely demise. Obviously, I needed alcohol. A lot of alcohol. Enter him. Tall, dangerous, unfairly hot. The kind of man who makes you want to sin just by existing. I'd met him only once before, and that night, he just happened to be at the same bar as my drunk, self-pitying self. So I did the only logical thing: I dragged him into a hotel room and ripped off his clothes. It was reckless. It was stupid. It was completely ill-advised. But it was also: Best. Sex. Of. My. Life. And, as it turned out, the best decision I'd ever made. Because my one-night stand isn't just some random guy. He's richer than Rhys, more powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be playing with. And now, he's not letting me go.
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