The handsome heir of a powerful billionaire is linked up with a low class but irresistible looking waitress as a result of a carefully executed plan initiated by his step-mother who intends to benefit from her husband's will. But The heir can only access his father's properties when he gets married. unfortunately, after what he had been through, marriage is the last thing on his mind, and his step mother's impatience to receive her own share of the property keeps growing, leading her to do things even the devil wouldn't... He has no feelings whatsoever for his new assistant but when disaster strikes, he is forced to make a choice to save his family: get married and save them all, or remain single and lose his father and the family fortune. And there is only one choice for a spouse... Planned lies fly around, secrets leak, anger sparks, hatred erupts, relationships fail... But doesn't love always overrule? Read now to find out what happens next! You CAN'T put this down!
Until he's married?" Mrs Sinclair yelled after reading through the document in front of her. Her wide eyes met David Waylen, a thin lawyer clad in a thick suit too hot for the weather, his tie badly knotted and his brown hair roughly partitioned at the center.
She waved the document at him with her fat hand. "What the hell does that even mean?"
"It means that he does not have the right to any of the property stated until he gets married," there was a slight pause as the lawyer thought of something. "Although there are certain legal actions he can decide to take in order for the phrase to be withdrawn," he noticed the alertness in her eyes. "However, Mrs Sinclair, it is a very risky venture," the lawyer added, stressing 'very' a little too much. He managed to choose his words carefully knowing he was dealing with a deep-pocketed and highly influential woman.
"You're saying that it's possible to revoke the phrase but there is only a slight chance it will be to my favour?" There was a frown on her face.
"I'm afraid..."
Mrs Sinclair hissed loudly and threw the document to him. As she stood, she searched hastily through her leopard skin purse and produced a bundle of dollar notes.
"I'm sure you know the condition my husband is in right now. Keep this between us and find out as soon as possible what can be done about that stupid phrase," she adjusted her purse on her arm and moved to the door. Waylen watched her stiff hip as she walked, wondering if she would have made a great career as a boxer.
She held the door handle and paused. "I expect to hear from you in two days time, Mr Waylen, or else..." she let the sentence trail off as she walked out.
Waylen sighed, took out a handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiped his forehead.
It was difficult dealing with wealthy clients these days, especially when they tossed money to your face and expected you to do things that were impossible. He stared at the bundle before him and smiled realizing that he could finally pay up for the mountain house he had bought on instalment.
The security man was at the foot of the stairs when Mrs Sinclair came down. He quickly opened the umbrella and she went under it.
The weather was at its worst now and the streets were crowded so the driver had wisely turned on the air conditioner before Mrs Sinclair had arrived.
The guard opened the door and waited for her to get settled before moving to the front seat.
"To the villa," she said to the driver who nodded and awoke the engine. The frown had still not left her face.
At the villa, preparations were in high gear. Conrad Sinclair was hosting a party for the group of men who had pooled their resources together to buy one of the largest steel companies in the city. It had been a huge investment for Sinclair who had been at the forefront of the whole thing. It was obviously going to be a huge success in the long run since they had had their fair share of the ups and downs involved in owning a company and there may or may not have been boodle paid to the government to get some things done, and there may or may not have been harassment to the previous owners but who knows? The whole process had been smooth and not a single document had been forged so there was nothing to be bothered about.
The decorators moved about busily, the ushers were mounting queue checkers, the waiters were setting tables.
Mrs Sinclair scanned the place with satisfaction and moved upstairs to Conrad's office.
Elaine, Conrad's secretary stood from her large zebrano desk as soon as she sighted her.
"Welcome, ma'am," she bowed slightly.
"Yes. Is Conrad in?"
"No, ma'am, he just left for the airport to pick up Mr Miguel."
Mrs Sinclair let out something that sounded like a grunt and headed for her dressing room.
Elaine rolled her eyes and sat down.
Mrs Sinclair's stylist greeted as she walked in.
"Do you have a dress ready for me tonight?"
The stylist nodded and produced a purple silk dress from a hanger.
Mrs Sinclair stared at it as though it had been taken out of a pig's pen.
"Find a matching purse, something light and comfortable," she instructed officiously.
The stylist nodded and disappeared behind rails of clothing.
She left the dressing room and headed to the bedroom.
Their bedroom was a cozy and commodious space with modern decor. The floor was completely rugged. An oil painting of Conrad Sinclair was hung above the bed and opposite that was a large television that had never been used. A grand piano stood at one corner of the room with its keys covered with dust. Adjacent to the piano was a dressing table that housed a few lotions and perfumes and jewelry owned by both Conrad and his wife.
Mrs Sinclair tossed her purse over the bed and paced around the room. She wondered how stupid Conrad could be to include such a phrase in his will.
She moved to the dressing table and forcefully took off her gold earrings.
Conrad had not even left her valuable pieces of his property! Just a few estates! And he'd even given the hotel to Andrew!
She took off her necklace and massaged the fat folds of flesh that formed her neck.
She knew there was no way she could persuade Andrew to get married without a sensible reason for it. She knew she could not even persuade him to do anything. If he made up his mind to do something, that was exactly what he was going to do. She wasn't his mother anyway, and he had spent years establishing that fact. And how the hell would she even explain how she had managed to get a copy of Conrad's will without his notice? That would give her a bad image and make her look like an over ambitious wife wondering what she stood to gain from the death of her dear husband. Beads of perspiration trickled down her face.
She thought of Stan for a moment then waved her hand dismissively. He was not very useful. How could a born womanizer persuade his close friend to get married?
She sighed and thought harder. Conrad had never been sensible, but gladly, he wasn't going to last long so she had to act now, and fast.
Her eyes popped as she suddenly remembered something. She took out her cell phone and dialed a number.
"Eithan?" there was a pause. "I want you at the villa. Immediately."
Due to the plight of her family, Phoebe had no choice but to embark on the path of selling herself. In an accident, she had a tangled night with Alexander. Everything began to derail, and even if she fled to the ends of the earth, she would still be found by him and entangled... *** Phoebe screamed in frustration, "What do you want from me?" What was this supposed to be? He raised an eyebrow wickedly. "What do I want? You'll find out soon enough." With that, he hoisted her up and carried her back into the office. The door slammed shut with a kick, and he cleared the desk with a sweep of his arm before laying her down on it, his body pinning hers in place, completely trapping her in his grasp. Every cell in his body was telling him he wanted her. He wanted to claim her again. This time, there would be no escape for her-he wouldn't let her slip away. Never again. If he had suffered for five years, then this woman wouldn't get off easily either!
In the eyes of the public, Elijah was ever the gentleman, always distant and reserved. But behind closed doors, he was an animal who relentlessly ensnared Ashley in a web of lust. No one knew of their secret relationship, yet at the same time, no one dared to bully her again. Then one day, she was hit with morning sickness right in front of everyone. To everyone’s shock, the aloof and domineering Elijah quickly knelt in front of her and caressed her pregnant belly. “Babe,” he crooned, “let’s go public with our relationship. I will give you my everything.”
Drugged and deceived, she bore a child amidst tragedy-her son, falsely declared dead at birth. Fueled by the agony, she disappeared, only to return years later with both her daughter and an adopted son, driven by an unyielding desire for revenge against those who had wronged her and her late mother. The plot takes an unexpected twist when the haunting truth surfaces: her son is alive, and his father is a powerful CEO.
On the day of their wedding anniversary, Joshua's mistress drugged Alicia, and she ended up in a stranger's bed. In one night, Alicia lost her innocence, while Joshua's mistress carried his child in her womb. Heartbroken and humiliated, Alicia demanded a divorce, but Joshua saw it as yet another tantrum. When they finally parted ways, she went on to become a renowned artist, sought out and admired by everyone. Consumed by regret, Joshua darkened her doorstep in hopes of reconciliation, only to find her in the arms of a powerful tycoon. "Say hello to your sister-in-law."
It was supposed to be a marriage of convenience, but Carrie made the mistake of falling in love with Kristopher. When the time came that she needed him the most, her husband was in the company of another woman. Enough was enough. Carrie chose to divorce Kristopher and move on with her life. Only when she left did Kristopher realize how important she was to him. In the face of his ex-wife’s countless admirers, Kristopher offered her 20 million dollars and proposed a new deal. “Let’s get married again.”
Belinda thought after divorce, they would part ways for good - he could live his life on his own terms, while she could indulge in the rest of hers. However, fate had other plans in store. "My darling, I was wrong. Would you please come back to me?" The man, whom she once loved deeply, lowered his once proud head humbly. "I beg you to return to me." Belinda coldly pushed away the bouquet of flowers he had offered her and coolly replied, "It's too late. The bridge has been burned, and the ashes have long since scattered to the wind!"