Ruthless Billionaire Husband

The scent of grease and overcooked meat clung to Lina Moreno’s clothes as she stepped out the back door of the small diner she worked at, exhaustion weighing down her limbs. The shift had been long, like every other night, but at least here—amid the smell of food and the clatter of dishes—she could forget, if only for a few hours, about the mess that was her life. Outside, the evening air was thick and humid, wrapping around her like an unwanted embrace. The narrow alley behind the diner was empty, save for the usual dumpsters and a few stray cats prowling for scraps. She exhaled, rubbing the ache from her shoulders. Another day, another shift, another night spent worrying about how much deeper her father had sunk himself into debt. She already knew the answer. Too deep. Lina had spent most of her life trying to fix his mistakes, trying to clean up the wreckage he left behind. It was never enough. Every promise he made, every drunken vow to change, had been a lie. But still, she had never expected this. The black car parked just beyond the alley didn’t belong in her world. It was sleek, expensive, and far too polished for a neighborhood like this. The kind of car that whispered power, danger—money. Her stomach twisted. Something was wrong. Then she saw him. A man leaned against the car, dressed in a black suit that looked like it cost more than the diner made in a month. His stance was casual, effortless, but something about him sent a chill up her spine. Even in the dim glow of the streetlight, she could see the sharpness of his features—chiseled cheekbones, a strong jaw, and piercing eyes that seemed to cut straight through her. Demian King. Her breath caught in her throat. She had never met him before, but she knew exactly who he was. Everyone did. He wasn’t just another billionaire, another powerful businessman in New York’s cutthroat elite. He was the elite. The king of the city. Ruthless, untouchable, and feared by everyone who had the misfortune of owing him anything. And now, he was looking at her. Lina’s pulse pounded as she took a step back, but the moment she moved, a second man appeared beside her. Tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in all black. His presence was suffocating. “Miss Moreno,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “You need to come with us.” Her mouth went dry. “I—I don’t understand. Why?” Demian King exhaled slowly, flicking a cigarette between his fingers, though he didn’t seem interested in smoking it. His gaze didn’t leave her, and when he spoke, his voice was as smooth as it was cold. “Your father,” he said, “owes me money.” Lina’s stomach twisted into knots. This wasn’t new. Her father owed money to nearly everyone in the city. But Demian King? That was different. That was dangerous. “I don’t—I don’t have anything to do with that,” she stammered. “I didn’t even know—” Demian took a step toward her, closing the space between them with deliberate ease. He wasn’t touching her, but he didn’t need to. His presence alone was suffocating. “Your father has nothing left to give,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion. “Except for you.” The words slammed into her like a physical blow. Lina shook her head, backing away until she hit the rough brick wall of the diner. “No,” she whispered. “He wouldn’t—he couldn’t—” Demian’s lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “He already did.” The world tilted beneath her feet. “No.” Her voice came out weaker this time, barely more than a breath. “There has to be another way. I—I can work. I can pay you back.” Demian chuckled, low and unimpressed. “You? Scrubbing dishes in a diner? You’d be paying me back for the rest of your life.” He tilted his head, eyes glinting with something unreadable. “That’s not the kind of patience I have.” Tears burned behind Lina’s eyes, but she refused to let them fall. “You can’t just take me,” she said, forcing steel into her voice. “That’s not how this works.” Demian arched a brow. “That’s exactly how this works.” Her heart pounded so loudly she could barely hear anything else. The air felt too thin, the alleyway too small. “I won’t go with you.” His expression didn’t change. “That’s not your choice.” The man beside her stepped forward, and instinct took over. Lina turned, ready to run—but she didn’t get far. A firm grip closed around her wrist, yanking her back. She gasped, struggling, but it was useless. Demian sighed, as if this was nothing more than an inconvenience. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” Lina thrashed against the hold, panic clawing at her chest. “Let me go!” But then, Demian moved. One second, he was a step away, the next, he was right in front of her. His hand closed around her chin, forcing her to look up at him. “Enough.” His voice was quiet, but it held the weight of a command. Lina’s breath came in ragged gasps, her heart hammering against her ribs. His fingers were warm, but his grip was unyielding, his touch feather-light but firm enough to remind her that he was the one in control. “You don’t have a choice, Lina,” he said, his eyes locking onto hers. “Your father made this deal. You’re mine now.” She trembled. “I’m not—” His grip tightened slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough to make her stop talking. “You are,” he said, his tone final. “And the sooner you accept that, the easier this will be for you.” A cold shiver ran down her spine. Demian released her chin and stepped back as if he hadn’t just shattered the last remnants of her world. He nodded toward the car. “Get in.” Lina swallowed hard, her body frozen in place. If she went with him, there was no coming back. No waking up from this nightmare. She turned her head, looking for someone—anyone—who could help. But the alley was empty. No one was coming to save her. Demian’s patience was running out. “Last chance, Lina.” His voice was soft, almost bored. “Walk to the car, or I’ll have James carry you there. Either way, you’re leaving with me.” Lina clenched her fists, every part of her screaming to fight. But what was the point? This was Demian King. There was no fighting him. No escaping him. And just like that, her life was no longer her own. She walked to the car.