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Pampered By The Ruthless Billionaire Boss Novel Cover

Pampered By The Ruthless Billionaire Boss

For five years, Asha Campbell shaped herself into the flawless, silent fiancée Garrison Morrow demanded. Then kidnappers drag her into a freezing warehouse and demand five million dollars. On the phone, Garrison laughs—he is marrying his first love, Elise Huffman, and hangs up. The kidnappers drug Asha and dump her in a rainy alley to die. Feverish and shattered, she throws herself in front of a passing Rolls-Royce. The man who steps out is Damian Sterling, New York's most ruthless billionaire—and Garrison's greatest rival. Damian has been watching her all along. Now he wants her to discard the trash and claim what is rightfully hers.
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Chapter 1

Asha Campbell's first sensation was the cold.

It seeped through her thin dress. She tried to shift, to push herself up, but a sharp, biting pain shot through her wrists.

Rope. Coarse and tight. It bound her ankles as well, digging into her skin with every small movement.

A shadow fell over her, blocking the single, dim bulb that hung from the ceiling high above.

She flinched as a large hand, slick with grime, clamped onto her chin. It forced her head up. The man's face was a blur of greasy hair and a leering smile that made her stomach clench.

"Look who's awake, little princess," a second voice rasped from the side. It was gravelly, like stones grinding together. "Now, time to call your rich fiancé."

Garrison Morrow, her fiancé.

Garrison would save her. He had to.

A cheap, plastic burner phone was shoved against her ear. The screen glowed with a number already dialed. Garrison's number.

The line clicked. It rang once, twice.

"Asha? What is it?" Garrison's voice was clipped, impatient. Faintly, in the background, she could hear the soft, reverent strains of organ music.

Her lips were cracked and dry. She tried to speak, but only a croak came out. "Garrison, help me... I've been kidnapped."

The man with the greasy smile snatched the phone back and hit the speaker button. The small device amplified his voice, making it echo in the cavernous space.

"Mr. Morrow, your fiancée is with us. Get five million dollars in cash."

The silence that followed stretched for an eternity. Asha held her breath, her entire being focused on the tiny phone, waiting for Garrison's panicked voice, for his promises, for his anger.

Instead, a laugh echoed from the speaker.

It was a short, sharp sound. A scoff. Full of derision. It felt like a physical blow, knocking the air from her lungs.

"Five million? Asha, this ridiculous charade has to stop." His voice was coated in ice, dripping with annoyance.

Asha's world tilted. The warehouse, the ropes, the fear—it all faded into a roaring in her ears.

"I know you're upset about Elise," Garrison continued, his tone condescending, as if speaking to a difficult child. "But pulling a stunt like this to get my attention? It's just pathetic."

Elise Huffman, Garrison's first love. The name was a venomous whisper that had poisoned the last six months of her life.

The two kidnappers exchanged a look of disbelief, then burst into loud, mocking laughter. The sound was a wave of humiliation that washed over Asha, leaving her skin burning hot. Tears pricked the backs of her eyes, hot and shameful.

"Garrison, it's real! Listen, just listen to where I am!" she screamed, her voice cracking with desperation.

"Enough," he snapped, his voice devoid of any warmth. "Don't call me again. I'm with Elise at the chapel for her prayers. I don't have time for these childish games."

The line went dead.

The dial tone buzzed, a flat, final sound that filled the vast, empty warehouse. It was the sound of her hope dying. He hadn't just abandoned her; he had humiliated her, stripped her bare in front of her captors.

The first kidnapper's face twisted with fury. He slammed his fist against a nearby oil drum, the metal ringing out in a dull, echoing clang. "Son of a bitch! What does he take us for?"

The second man, the one with the raspy voice, reached into his jacket pocket. He pulled out a small glass vial filled with a clear liquid.

"If we can't get his money," he said, his voice a low, menacing purr, "we can at least make sure she doesn't remember tonight." He unscrewed the cap with a flick of his thumb.

Asha's eyes widened in terror. She shook her head violently, straining against the ropes until they bit into her skin. A raw, primal fear seized her.

The first man grabbed a handful of her hair, forcing her head back.

The cold glass of the vial pressed against her lips. She clenched her teeth, but a brutal shake of her head forced her mouth open. The bitter liquid burned its way down her throat, leaving a chemical trail that made her gag.

An unnatural heat began to spread through her veins almost instantly. Her vision blurred, the single dim light splintering into a dozen dancing stars. Her body grew strangely heavy, her limbs refusing to obey her.

The last thing she heard before the darkness swallowed her was their cruel laughter and a final, dismissive sentence.

"Just leave her in the alley out back."

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