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Kicked Out: Marrying The Secret Billionaire Novel Cover

Kicked Out: Marrying The Secret Billionaire

Pregnant and alone, she lays the ultrasound on the coffee table, hoping for support. Instead, her mother robs her of her final hundred dollars and throws her into a freezing storm, declaring there is no room for her or her bastard child. Desperate, she finds the baby's father—Christopher, a hotel concierge—who stuns her with a cold proposal: a seven-month marriage of convenience to silence his family. She signs, trading freedom for shelter. But her mother tracks her down, extorts her savings, and causes a public spectacle. Christopher's response is ice: prove she can shield the child, or he will seek sole custody. Stripped and terrified, she stares at her tear-streaked reflection. No more weakness. For her baby, she will become a fortress.
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Chapter 1

Esther placed the ultrasound report on the coffee table. The smooth paper looked unfamiliar and out of place on the worn wood grain. Her fingers were icy cold; she hid them under her thighs, trying to stop the trembling.

Her mother, Sharon White, picked up the report. The kind smile he usually wore for church neighbors and grocery store clerks froze in place. It shattered and collapsed, replaced by jaws wide open in disbelief.

Sharon's sharp, scrutinizing gaze shifted from the rough black-and-white image to Esther's flat belly. That look was no longer confusion, but accusation.

"What is this?" She asked hoarsely, her words shattering the suffocating silence in the living room.

"Yes...... It's ultrasound. Esther's voice was so low it was almost inaudible, her throat felt like it was being choked by a hand.

"I can tell!" Sharon screamed sharply. "Whose is it?" Who is the father? ”

The air becomes heavy. Her stepfather, Don Hicks, put down the newspaper and cast a disgusted look.

Esther's lips trembled. "Christopher Davenport."

This name means nothing to them. It hangs in the air, falling hollowly.

"Christopher Davenport?" Sharon uttered the name as if she were spitting out filth. "Never heard of it. Let me guess—a penniless thug? Bartender? Construction workers? "She laughed, her laughter harsh and unpleasant." You foolish, shameless girl. I never raised you to be a slut. ”

Tang stood up from the armchair. He was tall, his shadow looming over Esther, cold and suffocating. "You brought shame to this family."

"I'll handle it." Esther was almost pleading, her voice as soft as a whisper. "I will go find a job. I won't be a burden, I promise. ”

"A burden?" Sharon's laughter turned hysterical. "You've always been a burden. There is no place here for you and your illegitimate child. Get out. ”

"Mom, I'm begging you—"

"Get out!"

At the stairwell, her stepbrother Dylan poked his head out of the room. A cruel mockery hung at the corner of his mouth as he watched the scene unfold.

Tang said nothing more. He clumsily walked upstairs. A moment later, a loud bang came from upstairs. He reappeared on the stair landing and kicked her old suitcase flying. The box rolled down the stairs and exploded at the stairwell corner. Her few pieces of clothing—a T-shirt, a pair of jeans, a faded sweater—were scattered across the carpet.

Tears streamed down Esther's cheeks. She knelt on the ground, her hands trembling as she stuffed her clothes back into the suitcase. Everything reminded her that a life had ended.

Sharon looked down at her from above. She bent down, took out her wallet from Esther's bag, and pulled out a few bills—less than a hundred dollars. "The money you've spent all these years eating, living, dressing, and living expenses." Her voice was devoid of emotion. "Consider it a little compensation."

Then, her fingers gripped Esther's arm like claws, pulling her up from the ground and dragging her toward the front door.

"No, I'm begging you, don't—"

The door suddenly flung open, and outside was a pitch-black, pouring rain. Thunder exploded overhead, furious and violent, like a mirror reflecting the chaos within her heart.

Sharon suddenly shoved her. Very forcefully.

Esther stumbled out of the porch, losing her balance on the slippery concrete floor. She fell, her body twisted, and instinctively reached out to protect her stomach. His elbow was scraped, and sharp pain shot up his arm.

The door slammed shut behind her.

The door lock clicked shut, the loudest end she had ever heard. It is a thorough, utterly lonely voice.

The icy rain soaked through her thin jacket in seconds, sticking her hair to her face and sending chills down her spine. She trembled violently and uncontrollably. She stared at the tightly closed door, at the warm yellow light shining through the window—a world she no longer belonged to. The last fragile hope she had been clinging to was shattered.

Her hand rummaged through her pocket, grabbing the damp, wrinkled ultrasound report. She pulled it out. The tiny, bean-shaped embryo image was blurred by the rain, yet it was still there. In this world that had just abandoned her, she was her only support.

Her thoughts raced as she desperately searched for a lifeline. That hotel. That man with a one-night stand. He was very gentle with her, wasn't he? He left a business card. Zenit Hotel.

That was her last chance. Her only chance.

She had to find him.

A wave of desperate energy surged up. She struggled to stand, grabbed the handle of the heavy suitcase, and dragged it down the driveway, into the storm. Every step is torture, with wheels stuck on potholes.

A car sped by, splashing a dirty wave that soaked her jeans up to her knees. She shrank back a little, but didn't stop.

She finally reached the main road, her arms aching from the weight of her suitcase. She raised her hand, wanting to hail a taxi. One car passed, and another passed. Finally, a yellow taxi slowed down, its headlights slicing through the pouring rain. The driver was a weary man, impatiently scrutinizing her wet and pitiful state.

"Zenit Hotel." She forced out a few words, her voice hoarse from the cold and tears that hadn't fallen.

He snorted and opened the trunk.

Inside the car, the worn vinyl seats were surprisingly comfortable. She watched as her familiar suburban home gradually blurred and disappeared outside the car window, tears mixed with rain streaming down her face. She didn't make a sound.

The taxi stopped at the entrance of the Zenit Hotel. It was a palace of light and gold, forming a stark contrast with the trembling, soaked, and disheveled girl through the car window. A doorman in a crisp uniform stood under a grand rain canopy, wearing a polite mask on his face, scrutinizing her dripping clothes and worn-out suitcase.

This is a world she does not belong to. A world she could never even imagine, made up of wealth and power.

But she had nowhere to go.

Esther took a deep breath, her whole body trembling. Her fingers tightly gripped the ultrasound report in her pocket. She pushed open the car door and stepped into the glaring, merciless lights.

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