The Unwanted Child
/1/131811/coverbig.jpg?v=9e882aca144ccdf9a381a0215dfaad26)
Awakening My Vicious Underground Biker Husband
For twenty years, I was kept in a gilded cage as the Daugherty family's most valuable political bargaining chip. But on the day of my arranged marriage, my corrupt father gave my fiancé to my cruel younger sister, Brinley. Instead, I was shipped off to the badlands to marry Erik "Grim" Marshall, the brutal President of an outlaw biker club, who was reportedly paralyzed and dying from a shattered spine. Brinley flaunted her designer wedding gown in my face, boasting about how she stole my life and ordered bulldozers to destroy my late mother's rose garden. "Get in the car and crawl off to that biker compound to die." My father coldly threw me to the wolves to save his own skin. When I arrived at the heavily guarded biker compound, the gang members treated me like disposable trash. They tried to extort my dowry and locked me in a dark, rotting quarantine basement to wait for my new husband to die. They all thought I was just a weak, discarded princess, meant to spend my miserable life cleaning bedpans for a crippled warlord before being torn apart by his violent gang. What they didn't know was that I was a lethal combat surgeon and toxicologist. Before I left, I planted a specialized neurotoxin in Brinley's dress that would turn her wedding night into a humiliating, public bloodbath. And as I looked down at the "dying" biker king on the steel table, I pulled out my scalpel. I wasn't here to rot in the dirt; I was going to cure this monster and use him to carve out an empire of my own.
Chapter 1 No.1
Genevra POV:
"The alliance cannot be broken, Genevra. But you are no longer marrying Kingston. Brinley is taking your place as his bride."
Brinley was my stepsister.
My father, Darrell Daugherty, did not even look up from his mahogany desk. He leaned back into his leather chair, the state senator seal on his gold signet ring catching the dim lamp light. Heavy cigar smoke hung thick between us in the second-floor study of the Daugherty estate.
"And to keep our alliance with the Marshall bloodline alive," Darrell continued coldly, flicking ash into a crystal tray, "you are leaving for California before sunrise. You will marry his cousin, Erik."
"So you're handing my fiancé to your stepdaughter," I said, tilting my head with a razor-thin, venomous smile, "and shipping me off to marry a paralyzed warlord rotting in an outlaw clubhouse?"
My voice was calm, mocking, and completely devoid of the trembling obedience he was used to.
Darrell slammed his open palm onto the polished wood. The crystal tumbler beside him rattled violently.
"Drop the insolent attitude, Genevra!" Darrell roared, veins bulging along his neck. "Three days ago, the paramedics had to drag you out of a pool of your own blood in the master bath! You locked yourself in, swallowed half a bottle of sedatives, and slit your wrists like a hysterical madwoman—all because Kingston told you he was choosing Brinley! The ER team shocked your chest three times to drag your pathetic pulse back from the dead! The entire southern syndicate was laughing at us!"
He leaned forward, glaring at me with raw disgust.
"You disgraced this family over a broken heart! And now you stand here acting like you have a say? Our pact is sworn to the Marshall family, not just Kingston. Kingston needs Brinley to anchor our political power here in the South, but the old blood pact still demands a Daugherty bride. You are going to California to fulfill that debt with the Iron Skulls MC. End of discussion."
The Iron Skulls MC was the most ruthless one-percenter outlaw motorcycle club on the West Coast. Their President, Erik "Grim" Marshall—Kingston’s estranged cousin and the true, feared warlord of the Marshall clan—was a legendary killer who had reportedly taken a blast during a turf war last month. Word on the underground wire was clear: shattered spine, complete paralysis, rotting away in his own compound.
"You want me to play the dutiful widow to a dying cripple so Kingston can keep his hands clean?" I asked, my voice flat as ice.
A figure shifted in the shadows near the leather couch. Kingston Marshall stepped into the light. He wore a tailored charcoal suit, the small gold skull stud in his left earlobe gleaming.
"Genevra... please, don't do this to yourself," Kingston murmured, stepping forward with that familiar, sickening patronizing pity in his eyes. He genuinely believed I was acting out of sheer heartbreak, that my suicide attempt had been the ultimate proof of my desperate devotion to him. "When they called me from the ICU... when they told me you flatlined on the table clutching my memory... it broke me. But the family comes first. With Erik incapacitated, I have to secure the South. You know my hands were tied."
He took two slow steps toward me, sighing with theatrical regret as he raised his hand, reaching to touch my face.
I took half a step back.
His manicured fingers caught nothing but empty air, freezing awkwardly between us.
"Clutching your memory?" I looked him up and down with the clinical detachment one might reserve for a dissecting specimen. "Kingston, when someone takes out the trash, they don't mourn the garbage bag. If my heart stopped on that operating table, it was from pure disgust at the thought of having ever let a bottom-feeder like you touch me."
Kingston’s handsome face flushed a violent, mottled crimson. "Genevra, watch your mouth—"
"Look at yourself," I cut him off, stepping into his personal space, my eyes locking onto his like twin gun barrels. "You wear a bespoke suit bought with dirty kickbacks, strutting around like a king, yet the moment your cousin Erik is taken out, you scramble to carve up his table with a second-rate stepdaughter. You're not an outlaw, Kingston. You're just an insecure errand boy who spent his entire life trembling in Erik's shadow, playing dress-up in cuff links."
Kingston choked on his own breath, his polished facade cracking into humiliated rage. In all the years he had strung me along, I had never spoken a harsh word to him. Now, standing right in front of him, I had stripped his ego raw in three sentences.
I turned my back on him completely, dismissing his existence, and looked straight at Darrell.
"I will go to California," I said coldly. "On one condition. Sign the release on North Street Medical Logistics. Remove your senatorial hold and clear my mother's operating accounts. You claim it's a bleeding shell—so sign it and let me leave."
Everyone present clearly hadn't expected me to agree so readily.
Darrell narrowed his eyes, stunned by the sheer, unyielding command in my tone.
"That shell company has been bleeding money for three years," Darrell sneered, trying to regain his footing. "Take it. You'll be dead in California before you can even use it."
He grabbed a transfer deed from his drawer, signed it with a heavy scrawl, and tossed it across the desk along with a pen.
I picked up the pen and signed my name in one smooth, unwavering line.
"A pleasure doing business with you, Senator," I said, dropping the heavy brass pen. It hit the mahogany with a sharp, dismissive clatter. "Do try to keep your seat in the Senate. It would be a pity if the public found out the great Darrell Daugherty built his entire career on my dead mother's trust fund."
Darrell froze, his face draining of color. Before he could bark an order, I had already turned on my heel and walked toward the door.
I pushed the heavy oak door open.
My stepmother, Evelyn, was lingering in the hallway, her arms crossed, waiting to gloat over the broken wreck she assumed was leaving the study.
"Pack your bags, poor girl," Evelyn purred, her lips curling into a smug, venomous smirk. "Let us hope you last more than a week among those filthy, grease-stained savages in the desert."
I stopped in front of her. I didn't rush past. I stood tall, letting my cold gaze rake over her from head to toe until her smug smile began to falter under the weight of my silence.
"Keep smiling while you can, Evelyn," I said in a soft, lethal whisper. "You spent twenty years scheming to steal my mother's leftover husband, and your daughter had to settle for my discarded trash just to secure a name. Enjoy the scraps. Because when I come back for what is mine, I won't leave either of you with enough dignity to beg."
Evelyn gasped, stepping back as if she had been slapped across the face, her manicured hand clutching her pearls in genuine shock.
I didn't spare her another second.
I walked down the east corridor, reached my bedroom at the far end, and pushed the door open.
The room was quiet. A world away from the pathetic, venomous vipers down the hall.
The sharp, hurried click of high heels echoed down the hardwood floor, moving fast and aggressive toward my room.
The bedroom door flew open with a violent bang.
Brinley stood in the doorway, her bleached blonde curls bouncing over her shoulders. She held a leather riding crop in her right hand, tapping it rhythmically against her thigh, her green eyes blazing with spiteful triumph.
/0/20795/coverbig.jpg?v=ba4e5d008117782faae22dd6df6e2c40)
The Unwanted Child
"What do you think that I won't be able to find who you are?" Krish strangles Ziva horrifying her "Please let me go...I didn't do anything, I promise that I will leave your place and go away from your life" she spoke with trembling lips, crying in pain "Tsk...tsk...You are late for that, I gave
/0/41082/coverbig.jpg?v=ce33040458ab4dec183a46d451bc7e39)
Billionaire's unwanted child
Carina has just divorced her previous husband, she wants to drink to forget her sadness, but then that night, she meets the richest billionaire in the city, Tyler Roth. Because of this baby that appeared by accident, the two of them lived together. A lot of conflicts then happened, the secrets were
/1/103176/coverbig.jpg?v=d3bafc763a38d4b06eb251e4e46265ef)
The Other Man's Child
Married to a Narcissist, Pregnant With My Ex's Child Selene was just eighteen when her life was rewritten. Pregnant, abandoned, and forced into a marriage of convenience, she carried another man's child down the aisle-without the man she married ever knowing the truth. Years later, her marriage t
/0/4605/coverbig.jpg?v=0fe14569ae4a5bab8691b79553064157)
/0/57073/coverbig.jpg?v=a7233ba70dd0d47a5eaa84af00506efa)
THE BILLIONAIRE'S SECRET CHILD
"The shadows of the past lingered, like the whispers of a forgotten melody. Alina's heart raced as she stood before the grandiose mansion, The wind carried the faint scent of lavender, transporting her back to a time she'd rather forget. A time when her innocence was stolen, leaving behind a trail o
/0/58035/coverbig.jpg?v=d6d803caa459b9c68aae627ca3d77b89)
The Billionaire's Secret child.
Billionaire Oliver Sterling, proposes a fake marriage to a struggling Sophia, a Gallery owner to support her business, they embark on a journey of pretending to be in love. However, their carefully crafted facade crumbles when Sophia discovers she is pregnant with Oliver's child, threatening to
/0/69311/coverbig.jpg?v=d3d84775de0185d835d20a23a11f448b)
The Billionaire Secret Child
Seven years ago, Emily Reuters, a young intern at her father's prestigious architectural firm, met billionaire real estate developer Wade Barrett at a masked charity ball. Their connection was instant and electric, leading to a night of passion. But by morning, Emily left Wade without revealing her
/0/56736/coverbig.jpg?v=39c15561696a3c9cdd4938afab2bc6ab)
Carrying The Billionaire's Child
“I don't want anything to do with her, I would rather marry her mother than marry her.” Manny felt insulted. Angry, she slammed her fist on the table, picked up the papers that needed signing and then tore it into pieces. ***** Manny, a lady with a perfect life and heiress to the Millicent's fas
/0/54134/coverbig.jpg?v=06ffd6af9c8e8ddbb2bf2147f964e461)
HIDING THE BILLIONAIRE'S CHILD
PROLOGUE The girl ignored the rumors she heard around her. He had just walked down the hospital hallway and all that was in mind was to escape the area. The girl's face and the emotional emotions can be seen on the girl's face. "I'm pregnant?!" "It can't be" it added. "I want to go home." It whis
/0/65777/coverbig.jpg?v=afcf0c9a92af5f7254debdc26c5fea58)
The Last Moon Child
19-year-old Ember Stone discovers she's the last living Moonchild, born with the power to control the lunar cycles. Forced to flee her home, Ember joins forces with enigmatic werewolf, Liam Nightingale, to uncover the truth about her family's past and the sinister forces seeking to exploit her power
/0/43349/coverbig.jpg?v=4a1d59f672ebfd523b1cabf9de1e3a90)
The Surrogate CEO's Child
"I want you to stop being a model so that we can start planning for pregnancy. I want to have a child soon because my mother is pressuring me," Alexander requested of his wife, Cesilia. "I don't want to. My body will change, and I won't be suitable for modeling anymore. If you're in a hurry, I can
/0/11612/coverbig.jpg?v=db876afee0e0f37be9148e653f3c8a04)
The Child of the Dawn
A.C. Benson was a popular British essayist and poet in the late 19th century, and many of his works continue to be read today.
/0/1659/coverbig.jpg?v=20171123152440)
The Child of the Moat
As for the grown-ups the story is not written for grown-ups, and if they want to know why it begins with such a gruesome first chapter, let them ask the children. Children like the horrors first and the end all bright. Many grown-ups like the tragedy at the end. But perhaps the children are right an
/0/23584/coverbig.jpg?v=ea20f47966bdda135932dc379cf41f12)
The Grandiose Billionaire's Unknown Child
Wealthy New York business man Brian Adams was used to going after what he wanted, but this time it was what he didn't want that making him proud on some stranger's door in the godforsaken hamlet of sweet water, Texas. And he didn't want his younger brother to marry his obviously gold-digging fiancee
/0/22861/coverbig.jpg?v=e059cd04715929250e9982c89ab4ff23)
The Unwanted
She made it because of love. She broke the trust of her friends and made horrible things to them. She feels unwanted. She feels no one loves her. But what if she meet a guy that will mend the broken soul inside her and fix her life-her unwanted life?
/1/102551/coverbig.jpg?v=3bd31fa9bad599c821e3f2c4de3d54be)
The Child I Carried Secretly
I was recovering from surgery for a stress-induced ulcer, the price I' d paid for building an empire with my husband, Braden. He said he was at a work dinner. He lied. From my hospital bed, I found his anonymous online confession: a sordid tale of his affair with a young intern while his "sick" par
/0/22284/coverbig.jpg?v=04681611023a616464d7c7ccf714991d)
Ethol: Child of the voodoo
After years of renouncing his heritage and connection to voodoo, Sam Ethol, fifthteen-year-old is haunted by a mysterious voodoo practitioner that killed his father and multiple citizens of New Orleans.
/0/85918/coverbig.jpg?v=d8b892c859562ebc96ab8bac2aaa5ec0)
The Unwanted Son, The Unwanted Mother
The world ended on a Tuesday afternoon. One moment, I was building blocks with my five-year-old son, Leo; the next, our home bucked and collapsed around us, trapping us in a coffin of splintered wood and concrete. Pinned in the darkness, I whispered reassurances to Leo, my body shielding his, even
/0/2277/coverbig.jpg?v=f73e1e5a9de8f41d0899e95d969c5362)
Saturday's Child
This is an EXACT reproduction of a book published before 1923. This IS NOT an OCR'd book with strange characters, introduced typographical errors, and jumbled words. This book may have occasional imperfections such as missing or blurred pages, poor pictures, errant marks, etc. that were either part
/0/14499/coverbig.jpg?v=a4bd3d445566f5cc446d0476d7797722)
