Ripping My New CEO Boyfriend Off His Throne

No sooner had the words left my lips than Samantha Brooks gasped theatrically.

“Just? This woman’s unbelievable. Some people work their whole lives and never scrape together half a million. You own a flower shop, right? Even if you sold every stem in that place, it wouldn’t add up to this.” She clung to Hudson’s arm, her tone turning sugary-sweet. “Hudson, I don’t want her ruining our engagement party.”

In a heartbeat, Hudson ordered a team of guards to throw me out.

“Don’t touch me. I’ll see myself out. ” I yanked free from their grip and turned back to look at Hudson one last time.

“You’ll regret this,” I warned him.

“Regret?” His voice dripped with scorn. “The only regret I have is ever being forced by you into playing this farce!” Then, with his chin tilted arrogantly, he added, “I’m Hudson Grant—respected, admired, the top of the business world. I’ve got the woman I love on my side. Who the hell are you to think you could ever make me regret anything?”

He waved his hand and the guards shoved me toward the exit. When I stepped out of the hotel, the giant screen across the street was broadcasting the moment Hudson slipped a ring onto Samantha’s finger.

That ring was my design—one I’d spent countless sleepless nights perfecting. Hudson had once sneered at the sketches, calling them ugly.

Yet here he was, using it to propose to his mistress.

Before I could even process the sting of betrayal, a crowd swarmed me. They hurled whatever they had in their hands—cups, bags, trash—straight at me.

“You’re that manipulative bitch who tried to guilt-trip Hudson into marrying you, aren’t you?” One girl spat.

“Mr. Grant has found the love of his life. If you dare crawl back to him again, we’ll destroy you!” Another shouted.

Back when I first tried to build up Hudson’s reputation, I used his good looks to market him online. It worked. Too well, in fact—now it had all backfired on me.

I thought of pulling out old photos to defend myself, but then remembered Hudson had already set the stage to smear me first.

Smart of him, I supposed. Everything I had taught him, he learned well. I always knew he was sharp, calculating. But of all the things he could’ve used his cunning for, he used it against me.

Just then, a limited-edition sports car cut through the crowd. Under envious stares, I slipped inside.

I was still brushing dirt off my clothes when my phone rang. Hudson.

“Don’t blame me for being cruel, Madeline. If I didn’t do this, you’d never let me go. Samantha—she’s different from you. She’s sweet, obedient. I knew she was the one the second I saw her.

“As for you…” his voice dropped to a sleazy drawl. “If you insist on sticking around, I don’t mind keeping you as my mistress. But the rule is—you stay out of Samantha’s sight.”

If not for the driver’s expression twisting in shock, I might’ve thought I’d misheard out of sheer fury. How could he stab me in the back and then have the nerve to offer me the role of his mistress?

“Are you out of your damn mind?” I snapped. “That shiny chair you’re so proud of isn’t even warm yet and you already dare to talk like this?”

I didn’t give him a chance to answer—I hung up.

But when I got home, he was already there, blocking my way inside. The cheap scent of gardenias clung to him.

“Stop being difficult, Madison. Half a million is more than enough. I’ll even add another hundred grand.” 

He spoke as if he was doing me a huge favor. Meanwhile, the last deal I’d secured for him had brought in far more than that.

He caught the fire in my eyes and completely misunderstood. Grabbing my hand, his voice dropped into a husky whisper.

“What, you actually want to be my mistress? Fine, let’s call today my mistake. I should’ve warned you first. Let me make it up to you,” he murmured, his fingers trailing over my waist, slipping under my clothes without shame.

“You’re disgusting you know that?” My hand flew before I even realized it. The crack of the slap echoed sharp and merciless.

His head snapped to the side, eyes blazing with fury as he reeled from the blow.

“Madeline Seymour! Do you know how many people would kill for the chance I’m giving you? You should be grateful I even bothered with you. You’re always so damn overbearing. If it weren’t for the fact you once helped me, I’d never have tolerated being with you. Samantha, at least, is gentle. Sweet. Nothing like you.”

And as if the devil had staged it, right then his phone rang. Samantha Brooks.