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Stepping out of the women's correctional center, Karli took her first breath of freedom in three years. But the luxury SUV waiting for her didn't bring her home. Instead, her adoptive parents tossed a prenuptial agreement onto her lap. They demanded she marry a violently unhinged, disfigured man so their company could secure a massive commercial deal. When she refused, her adoptive mother slapped her hard across the face. The blow brought back the suffocating nightmare from three years ago-how they had drugged her, framed her for a crime she didn't commit, and sent her to prison just so her stepsister could steal her fiancé. Now, to break her again, her adoptive father ordered his bodyguards to drag her into the estate's freezing, pitch-black basement. "You can rot in the dark without food or water until you sign that paper!" Sitting on the damp cement, bleeding and shivering, a white-hot fury burned away Karli's panic. They had stolen her youth, her reputation, and her grandfather's inheritance. She would rather die than be their sacrificial lamb again. She smashed the basement window with a hammer, dragged her bleeding body through the shattered glass, and sprinted blindly into the stormy night. Under the flickering neon sign of a convenience store, she grabbed the sleeve of a terrifyingly cold stranger. "Are you single? Marry me right now." She just needed a legal marriage to escape her family, entirely unaware she had just proposed to the most ruthless billionaire in Chicago.
Contents
Reclaiming Her Crown: The CEO's Sudden Bride Chapter 1
The heavy metal doors of the Illinois Women's Correctional Center slammed shut behind Karli Lewis. The sound was a dull, echoing thud that vibrated through the soles of her cheap canvas shoes.
She stood on the cracked pavement under the harsh afternoon sun. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with air that didn't smell of bleach, rusted iron, and despair. It was her first breath of freedom in three years.
Her fingers tightly gripped the strap of a worn canvas bag holding two sets of clothes. Her knuckles were stark white. She forced her stiff legs to move, stepping toward the empty road across the facility.
A brand-new, black Lincoln Navigator glided silently over the asphalt and stopped inches from her toes.
The heavily tinted rear window rolled down with a soft mechanical hum. Myra's face appeared. Her adoptive mother's makeup was flawless, her hair perfectly coiffed, but her eyes held the warmth of a morgue freezer.
The tiny spark of hope that had flared in Karli's chest instantly froze. Her lips parted, but the word 'Mom' died in her throat.
In the driver's seat, Warren slammed his palm against the horn. The blaring sound made Karli flinch. He barked at her to get in and stop wasting time.
Karli reached out, her hand trembling slightly, and pulled the heavy door open. She climbed into the backseat. The air conditioning blasted her skin, carrying the scent of expensive leather and Myra's cloying floral perfume.
The second the door clicked shut, Myra tossed a thick, gold-rimmed folder onto Karli's lap. She didn't even turn her head to look at her.
Karli stared at the folder. Her stomach tightened. She opened the heavy cover. Her eyes fell on the bold, capitalized heading: PRENUPTIAL AND ASSET MERGER AGREEMENT.
She scanned the text. Her gaze locked onto the groom's designated surname. Rocha.
Her pupils dilated. Her heart skipped a beat, slamming against her ribs.
Myra let out a sharp, venomous laugh. She told Karli to read it carefully. She explicitly stated that this was how Karli would repay the Lewis family for taking her out of the gutter.
Warren steered the heavy SUV onto the highway. He didn't look in the rearview mirror. He coldly listed the massive commercial benefits the Rocha family was offering in exchange for a bride.
Karli's hands clamped down on the document. Her fingers dug into the crisp paper, leaving deep, permanent creases over the text.
She lifted her head. Her voice shook, but she forced the words out. She refused. She told them she would never marry the Rocha family's third son-a man rumored to be violently unhinged and hideously disfigured.
Myra twisted around in her seat. Her face contorted with rage. She raised her hand and brought it down hard across Karli's pale cheek.
The slap cracked through the enclosed cabin like a gunshot. Karli's head snapped to the side. A sharp metallic taste flooded her mouth as her teeth cut into the inside of her cheek.
The physical pain was a trigger. It bypassed her logic and ripped straight into her deepest trauma.
Her breathing turned shallow and erratic. The leather interior of the car vanished.
Suddenly, she was back at her engagement party three years ago. The smell of cheap champagne filled her nose. She felt the heavy, paralyzing lethargy creeping into her limbs after she drank the spiked glass.
The memory shifted violently. She was lying on a hotel bed, staring at the ceiling. The suffocating weight of a blurred male figure pressed down on her. She couldn't scream. She couldn't move.
Then came the blinding flashbulbs of the paparazzi the next morning. Kandi, her stepsister, stood in the doorway, covering her face and sobbing fake tears.
Preston, her fiancé, looked at Karli with a disgust so pure it felt like a physical blade slicing through her chest.
The judge's cold voice echoed in her ears, slamming the gavel down, sentencing her for a crime she didn't commit.
Karli squeezed her eyes shut. She dug her fingernails into her own palms until the sharp pain grounded her. She gasped for air, pulling herself out of the suffocating flashback.
She turned her head and glared at Myra. Her eyes burned with raw hatred. She asked, her voice a low hiss, if they had planned it all along. If they had framed her just to get her out of Kandi's way.
A flicker of guilt crossed Myra's eyes, but it was instantly swallowed by defensive fury. She shrieked at Karli to shut her mouth.
Warren slammed on the brakes. The Lincoln jerked to a halt in front of the massive wrought-iron gates of the Lewis estate. He turned around, his face purple with rage. "You think you have a choice?" he spat. "Today you either sign that paper and walk into the Rocha family, or you can rot in the basement of this house until you do!"
Karli wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. She let out a hollow, broken laugh. She told him she would rather walk back into a prison cell than be their sacrificial lamb.
Myra shoved her door open. She screamed at the two massive bodyguards waiting by the gate to drag the ungrateful bitch out of the car.
The doors were yanked open. Two pairs of thick, rough hands grabbed Karli's biceps. They hauled her out of the vehicle. Her canvas shoes dragged across the gravel driveway as they pulled her toward the dark, narrow pathway leading to the estate's basement.
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