Shattered Vows The Billionaire's Cruel Contract

When my family went bankrupt and creditors chased me into a corner, the poor boy I once looked down on had become a new darling of the business world.

Anthony Vance looked down at me from above. "Layla Sullivan, be my mistress, and I'll pay off your debts."

I didn't hesitate. I signed that humiliating agreement.

After we met again, I was no longer spoiled and willful.

He brought his fiancée to humiliate me. I lowered my head and poured their wine.

Even when he doted on her right in front of me, I would only smile faintly, turn, and leave.

I became the obedient plaything he wanted.

But when I finally paid off the debts and was ready to leave, he grabbed my wrist like he'd gone mad. "Who said you could leave?"

"Layla, did you stop loving me a long time ago?"

——

Rain curtained the deep alleyways of Harborview City, droplets cracking against brick walls.

I curled up in a muddy corner, trembling.

The fresh cigarette burn on my forehead still sizzled, pain drilling into bone. A little "gift" from the debt collectors.

"Miss Sullivan, if you can't pay tonight, next time we burn your face."

They left behind a ground full of filthy insults and my torn clothes.

Harsh headlights swept over, exposing me completely.

I raised a hand to shield my eyes—nothing but mud and grime between my fingers.

A black Maybach rolled to a stop, the window lowering halfway.

I used to ride in that car all the time. Before everything fell apart.

The door opened. A gleaming leather shoe stepped into the murky puddle.

My gaze traveled upward: sharply pressed suit pants, a meticulously tailored jacket. Six figures, minimum.

The man held a black umbrella and looked down at me, eyes colder than the November rain.

I froze.

Anthony Vance.

The poor student I once despised for his background. The one my family kicked out.

Now Harborview City's hottest tech mogul.

And I was a fallen heiress drowning in debt.

The creditors who'd been vicious moments ago immediately switched to fawning smiles.

"Mr. Vance! In rain this heavy, why would you personally—"

Anthony ignored them. He only stared at me.

He walked over and lifted his foot, pressing it down on the back of my bracing hand.

I didn't pull away. Let him step on it.

It was so cold that his shoe actually felt warm.

He slowly added pressure, grinding down.

My hand bones made a grating sound.

"Layla Sullivan, does it hurt?"

His voice was low, carrying a grim chill.

"Like back then? That snowy day when you people threw me out the front door like trash?"

I clenched my teeth and stayed silent.

It hurt. Of course it hurt.

But I didn't have the right to cry.

The creditors understood immediately—in front of this new darling, I was nothing but a plaything.

Anthony withdrew his foot and rubbed the sole against the grass in disgust.

"Layla Sullivan, beg me."

I lifted my head. Rainwater ran down my tangled hair into my eyes, stinging.

"Mr. Vance, can you lend me fifty thousand? My younger brother is in the hospital—"

"Lend?"

He laughed coldly.

"The Sullivans are gone. What would you pay me back with? This body that's already been used up?"

I didn't speak. My nails dug into my palms.

He bent down, gripped my chin, and forced me to meet his gaze.

"Be my mistress, and I'll pay off your debts."

I didn't hesitate long.

Against my brother's sky-high medical bills, dignity wasn't worth the paper it was printed on.