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Rebound To The Billionaire

Gênero: Billionaire/CEO
Autor: Bran-dy
Capítulos: 120
Status: Em andamento
Classificação etária: 18+

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Sinopse

Left humiliated at the altar when her fiancé’s scandalous affair plays on live television, Daphne Montgomery refuses to let high society watch her crumble. She expected her world to end in front of two hundred elite guests. Instead, a legend steps out from the shadows. Alistair Daniels—the city’s most feared, untouchable billionaire—walks down the aisle with a terrifyingly calm proposal: “Marry me instead. And by dawn, I will burn their world to the ground.” What starts as a cold contract marriage to crush their shared enemies rapidly transforms into a ruthless power alliance. Daphne isn't looking for a savior—she wants retribution. And Alistair isn't looking for a trophy wife—he found his equal. Together, they dominate boardrooms, dismantle empires, and command the upper crest of society. But as the line between fake vows and undeniable obsession blurs, the dangerous secrets of the past threaten to surface. In a world where power is everything, playing with fire might just consume them both.

Chapter 1: The Wedding Scandal

The grand stained-glass doors of St. Jude’s Cathedral burst open with violent force.

A bitter blast of autumn wind swept down the central aisle, rattling the heavy brass chandeliers overhead.

Daphne Montgomery stood completely still at the altar, her breath hitching in her throat.

Her delicate lace veil fluttered against her cheeks, but she didn't feel the chill.

She felt only the blinding, suffocating heat of two hundred pairs of elite eyes staring directly at her back.

High society had gathered to watch the event of the season—the grand union of Montgomery heritage and Williams ambition.

Instead, they were witnessing the public execution of her dignity.

Above the altar, where a romantic slideshow of her five-year relationship with Julian Williams was supposed to be playing, a high-definition video feed suddenly flickered to life.

It was not a memory of their first date or their engagement party in Paris.

It was a live stream from the dressing room upstairs.

The camera angle was sharp and unforgiving, capturing every single detail in brutal detail.

Across the massive LED screens, Julian was pinned against the crimson velvet couch.

His suit jacket was discarded on the floor, his silk tie loosened around his neck.

Straddling his lap was Celeste Williams, Daphne’s stepsister.

Celeste’s hands were tangled in Julian’s hair, her head thrown back in breathless laughter as Julian buried his face in her neck, kissing her with frantic, shameless desperation.

A collective, sharp gasp rippled through the pews like wildfire.

Whispers erupted instantly, breaking the solemn church silence into a buzzing hive of scandal.

"Is that... Julian?"

"On his own wedding day?"

"My God, with her stepsister? In the church dressing room?!"

"Look at Daphne... poor thing."

"Poor thing? Her family’s stock is going to plunge by morning!"

Daphne’s fingers tightened around her bouquet of white gardenias.

The delicate stems crushed beneath her white-gloved palm, squeezing cold moisture onto her fingers.

Her face burned with intense, searing heat, but she forced her jaw to remain rigid.

She refused to let a single tear fall.

She refused to give her stepmother, who was sitting in the front row trying and failing to hide a triumphant smirk, the satisfaction of seeing her break.

Not in front of these vultures.

Not today.

The side oak door near the choir loft flew open.

Julian rushed out onto the altar, frantic and pale, adjusting his disheveled silk tie with trembling hands.

His hair was messy, his collar lipstick-stained, and his eyes wide with absolute terror.

"Daphne! Wait! Turn that off!" Julian yelled toward the media booth, his voice cracking with panic.

He turned toward Daphne, reaching out his hands as he stumbled down the altar steps.

"Daphne, listen to me! It’s not what it looks like—it’s a mistake! Someone set us up!"

"Save it, Julian," Daphne said.

Her voice was surprisingly quiet, yet it cut through his frantic shouting with icy precision.

She didn't back away as he approached, standing her ground with her head held high.

"The wedding is over."

"Daphne, please! Don't do this here!" Julian pleaded, his voice dropping into a desperate, furious whisper as he grabbed her elbow. "Think of the publicity! Think of the merger between our firms! If you walk away now, the media will destroy us both!"

"Let go of me," she whispered, her eyes burning into his with cold fury.

"Daphne, be reasonable—"

Before Julian could tighten his grip, a sharp, heavy sound cut through the chaos of the cathedral.

Click.

The deliberate, echoing thud of hand-crafted leather dress shoes struck the marble floor near the rear entrance.

It wasn't a hurried step. It was the calm, measured stride of a man who owned every inch of ground he walked on.

The frantic whispers in the pews instantly vanished.

The cameras stopped flashing.

The entire cathedral went dead silent.

A tall, towering figure stepped out from the deep shadows of the arched doorway.

Tailored charcoal three-piece suit.

Broad, imposing shoulders.

Cold, piercing obsidian eyes that scanned the room with utter contempt.

Alistair Daniels.

Subdued gasps rippled through the back rows.

Alistair Daniels was the most feared, untouchable billionaire in the entire nation.

He was a corporate titan whose family conglomerate controlled international shipping ports, banking empires, and global technology networks.

He was a reclusive monarch of the business world who never attended high-society galas.

He was a man who answered to no one and bowed to nothing.

Yet here he was, walking down the center aisle of St. Jude’s Cathedral as if he owned the altar itself.

His hands rested casually in his trousers pockets, his gaze locked entirely on the front of the church.

He didn't spare a single glance at the gossiping socialites or the cowering photographers.

He walked past Julian, stepping directly into the space between the ruined groom and the bride.

The subtle, commanding scent of dark cedar, crisp rain, and rare leather drifted over Daphne.

Alistair stood right beside her, his sheer presence instantly dwarfing Julian’s frantic energy.

He looked down at Daphne, his expression unreadable, yet intensely focused.

"It would be a tragedy to waste such an exquisite dress, Miss Montgomery," Alistair said.

His voice was a smooth, low baritone that reverberated clearly off the vaulted stone ceiling.

Julian swallowed hard, his face turning a sickly shade of ash as he took an involuntary step back.

"Mr. Daniels..." Julian stammered, his posture collapsing under Alistair's aura. "This... this is a private family matter. You have no right to step in—"

Alistair didn't even bother turning his head toward him.

"Quiet," Alistair murmured softly.

The single, calm word carried enough dark authority to freeze the air in Julian's lungs. Julian snapped his mouth shut, paralyzed.

Alistair turned his full attention back to Daphne.

Slowly, deliberately, he withdrew his gloved right hand from his pocket and offered it to her.

"Your fiancé is a fool, and his ambition has stripped him of his judgment," Alistair said, his dark eyes locking onto hers with absolute conviction.

"Leave him standing in the ruin he created."

"Marry me instead, Daphne."

Daphne stared at his outstretched hand, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs.

She could hear the gasp of her stepmother in the front row. She could see Julian trembling beside them.

"Why would you offer that, Mr. Daniels?" Daphne asked, her voice trembling slightly under the weight of the moment. "You don't even know me."

Alistair leaned down slightly, his lips hovering near her ear so only she could hear his next words.

"I know you want revenge," he whispered softly. "And I know your late mother's share in Montgomery Holdings was transferred into a secret account thirty minutes ago."

Daphne’s eyes widened in sheer shock.

Before she could speak, Alistair pulled back, his eyes flashing with a dangerous, dark light.

"Accept my hand, Miss Montgomery, and by dawn, I will help you take back your empire... while I burn theirs to the ground."

Daphne stared at his palm, then looked up into the eyes of the city's most dangerous man.

She reached out, her white-gloved fingers hovering just an inch away from his skin—when the massive stained-glass window behind the altar suddenly shattered inward, showering the altar in rain and glass as screaming erupted from the back!