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Betrayed at the Altar,The Lost Billionaire Heir's Revenge Novel Cover

Betrayed at the Altar,The Lost Billionaire Heir's Revenge

On what should have been the happiest day of his life, Arthur Vance is blindsided when his fiancée, Tamara, demands an astronomical bride price of one million dollars. Before he can even gather the funds, she publicly replaces him at the altar with Jarvis Farley, the supposed heir to a massive empire. Tamara scorns Arthur as a penniless loser, unaware of a massive secret. Jarvis is merely an adopted stand-in, while Arthur is the genuine, long-lost billionaire heir who was secretly found a month ago.
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Chapter 2

The press conference to announce my return had already been scheduled. Two days from now.

Grandfather said he'd sent people to look into my performance at the company where I'd been working all these years. He was pleased. When the time came, he would hand me control of the Farley Group directly.

As for Jarvis, that would be left entirely up to me.

The day of the press conference happened to coincide with the traditional day for Tamara to visit her parents after the wedding. I'd originally planned to surprise her that day.

But I never expected...

The emcee was egging them on again, urging them to kiss.

I swallowed the nausea rising in my stomach, grabbed a tablecloth to drape over myself, and started to leave.

"Stop him!"

The moment I stood, Jarvis's snarl cut through the air from the stage.

I turned and met his eyes, brimming with smug satisfaction.

"Jarvis, restricting someone's freedom is against the law."

"The law?!"

Jarvis shoved hard against my shoulder.

"Let me tell you something. In this city, the Farley heir standing in front of you IS the law!"

Thinking of what Grandfather had planned for Jarvis over the phone, I let my voice go cold.

"Jarvis, your days of strutting around are numbered."

A vicious glint flashed through Jarvis's eyes.

"Get over here! Stuff this piece of trash in the trunk and take him to our bridal suite. Let him serve me and my wife on our wedding night!"

When several hulking men dragged me out of the trunk, I froze where I stood.

The "bridal suite" Jarvis was talking about was the home Tamara and I had shared.

"Tamara!"

My whole body was shaking. I spun around and pointed a trembling finger at her as she nestled in Jarvis's arms.

"I bought this place with every cent I had! This is OUR home! You take this animal and get out. Now."

"Your home?"

Tamara covered her mouth and let out a soft laugh.

"Arthur, starting now, this is MY home. Consider it what you owe me for wasting seven years of my life!"

"I'm going to spend my wedding night here with Jarvis. Have babies here. Live here and—"

"Tamara, trespassing in someone's home is a crime."

I held up my phone and waved it in front of her face.

"If you don't leave, I'm calling the police."

"Go ahead!"

At the mention of police, Tamara only looked more pleased with herself.

She tossed a manila envelope into my hands.

"Call them right now, if you've got the nerve. I'd love to see who the real criminal is!"

I tore open the envelope. Inside was a brand-new property deed.

The name listed as sole owner: Tamara Pruitt.

I pulled out my phone and called the real estate agent immediately.

Ferris Lambert's groggy voice came through the other end.

"Hey, man. The deed was processed three days ago. Tamara brought me in to handle it. She said you'd agreed to put the house in her name..."

My mind went blank, a single sharp buzz drowning out everything else. I stood rooted to the spot.

Jarvis let out two sneering laughs, then ordered the men he'd brought to hog-tie me and throw me into the basement directly below the master bedroom.

A dozen minutes later, the bed above me began to rock in a steady rhythm.

Seven years together, and Tamara had always told me she was saving herself for their wedding night.

So I had never touched her. Not once.

But today, through the security camera feed on my phone, I watched her writhing beneath someone else, her face flushed and coy.

My stomach churned violently.

Wave after wave of sounds drifted down from the master bedroom, and I doubled over retching, again and again, with nothing to bring up.

I fought desperately to break free.

But every time I struggled, the ropes only bit tighter.

The coarse hemp cord, thick as two fingers, shredded my skin. A searing, stinging pain tore through my entire body.

That was when I realized the ropes had been soaked in salt water beforehand.

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