Back For Blood: My Vengeful Comeback As A Billionaire Tycoon

Fate threw Melinda Dawson back into her ex-husband's world on the night she sold herself.

In the pitch-black room, she pressed her lips awkwardly to the man's throat, words catching in her shyness. "Sir, I promise I'll get pregnant soon. Can you pay a million in advance? I need it-badly."

Intensity radiated from the man above her, his movements unyielding. Melinda, untested in such things, found herself barely able to keep up.

Rough hands took control, bending her legs and shifting her as if he meant to teach her a lesson.

Only when Melinda thought she might break, a cold, muffled sound escaped him, signaling this bizarre bargain's conclusion.

A wave of regret washed over Melinda. But desperation ran deeper than regret. Her father was in a vegetative state, their fortune lost, and this was the only path left.

Deanna Riley, her boss from the bar where she worked as a bar girl, had introduced this client to her, saying he was the city's most powerful man. He needed a child, and she agreed because pregnancy would bring her five million.

A sharp flicker of light flashed-the man lit a cigarette.

Without warning, a strong hand captured her chin. His voice, low and rough, drifted down. "You really gave it your all. Still hanging on so tight."

Something in the tone-cold, deep, strangely familiar-sent a chill through her.

The lighter's flame stung her eyes, and Melinda froze. Blinking, she finally saw the man's features so close above her.

The man looming over her was nothing like the client she'd imagined-some balding, middle-aged man. No one could deny his striking looks that made hearts race everywhere he went. But...

All color drained from Melinda's face, and she pushed him back. "Why is it you? Declan!"

"Surprised?" Declan Gibson's fingers tightened around her chin. With cold eyes boring into her, he gave a cruel smile. "So, three months post-divorce, my former wife sinks this low and starts selling herself. Should I not step in to help?"

How ironic. Bitterness surged inside Melinda, as if she were being pulled under water, every breath a struggle. Discovering that her client was her ex-husband felt like a twisted joke. There was no shame quite like this.

One fist clenched the ripped fabric at her chest, sarcasm gleaming in her gaze. "Yes, I'm surprised. The poor guy rose to riches after divorce, even buying a night with his ex. Can't Claire Barrett satisfy you in bed?"

Danger glimmered in Declan's cold, perfectly measured smile.

Melinda's gaze followed him as he rose, smoothly zipping up his pants with practiced ease. Not a wrinkle marred his shirt or trousers, highlighting just how chaotic and undone she looked by comparison.

There was nothing lacking in this man. Lean muscle, still glistening from their encounter, pressed against the fabric of his clothes, every movement radiating both discipline and raw strength.

Even when Declan was down and out, he was hailed as the city's most striking man.

She had fallen hard for that allure, pushing him to break ties with his childhood love and marry her instead.

Back then, Melinda never guessed at the steel and ambition beneath his surface.

Declan played the part for two years-a dutiful husband, albeit somewhat aloof.

Then, three months ago, her entire world flipped. The Dawson name lost its shine, her father-once the city's richest man-threw himself from a rooftop. Declan joined forces with outsiders to strip the Dawson family of everything, then ended their marriage without hesitation.

The aftermath left her father trapped in a hospital bed, her brother desperate for dialysis, and her little sister forced to leave school.

Declan walked away, never sparing her a penny.

Rock bottom became her new normal. The bills drove her to desperate lengths, even agreeing to sell her body as a surrogate.

Tears threatened to spill from her reddened eyes as Declan's next words cut through the silence. "If I had any real interest in you, you wouldn't have been still a virgin after two years of marriage, would you?"

Shock left Melinda's thoughts spinning, her heart shivering in her chest.

Two years bound by marriage, and he never once claimed her.

No matter how she tried to bridge the distance, his rejection was always ice-cold. He recoiled, avoiding her every advance.

Yet after their split, he was willing to spend five million just to humiliate her.

The sting of that insult was almost too much to bear.

Fixing her gaze on his flawless features, Melinda let out a mocking laugh. "Declan, I once offered you children without asking for a cent, and now you're ready to throw a fortune at me for the same thing. Have you lost your mind?"

A storm cloud finally crossed Declan's face. Without warning, he gripped her waist, forcing her down onto the sofa with unyielding strength.

A crisp contract and a hefty check landed on the table with a slap. He took a slow drag from his cigarette, his words sharp and glacial. "Here you go. One million now. You'll play the part of my lover until you're pregnant. When the baby arrives, Claire will raise it as her own."

Shock thundered through her. He wanted her to carry his child, only to hand it over to the woman he loved?

The words came out of Declan's captivating lips devastated Melinda, every beat of her heart seeming to shatter beneath his gaze. Tension made her clutch her torn dress, skin drained of color.

"Declan, after two years of plotting, you stole my father's empire and brought your beloved woman back. Wasn't destroying my life enough for you? Now you want me as a surrogate?"

Bitterness mixed with tears as Melinda managed a hollow laugh, the ache in her chest nearly unbearable. "Keep dreaming. If Claire meant everything, then why bother marrying me?"

A cold sneer tugged at Declan's mouth. "Is that ignorance or just another act?"

Confusion flickered across her face. "What are you saying?"

Emotion dropped from his voice. "Your father kidnapped Claire two years ago and imprisoned her because you wanted to marry me and he thought she was a threat. Now, do you understand why I married and then divorced you?"

The shock froze Melinda in place. Denial spilled out in a shaky whisper. "No. Claire went overseas, didn't she?"

"Overseas? I found her three months back, hidden in your father's home, battered and broken. She's even lost her womb. Her mother died saving her life. That woman was like a mother to me." Each word struck heavy as stone. "So tell me, Melinda-does your family still look so blameless?"

Panic widened Melinda's eyes. Desperation pushed the words from her lips. "My dad isn't capable of that. There must be some misunderstanding..."

Shadows deepened in Declan's expression. "Sign the contract. Give Claire the child she can't have herself." Hatred blazed in his stare, unwavering.

Melinda's hope crumbled. Did he really love Claire that much?

She staggered backward, shredding both the contract and the check with trembling hands. "I'd rather die than be a surrogate for you. Don't ever ask again."

She loved him dearly. No one could expect her to keep swallowing this brand of cruelty.

Declan's gaze lingered on her, taking in the flush on her cheeks-traces of longing still etched there, leaving her loveliness fractured.

Something about her always drew him in. For two long years, he'd tried to keep his distance, but in the end, he still couldn't resist her.

His eyes, cold and unreadable, gave nothing away. Narrowing them, he spoke with chilling patience. "Bold claims, Melinda. But I'll be waiting for the day you come crawling back."

Bolting for the door, Melinda fled the hotel, plunging headlong into the biting night.

Every trace of Declan's touch, the heat and dominance he left behind, now twisted inside her as cold shards cutting at her chest.

Pain made her legs buckle. She sagged against a wall, teeth chattering, only now feeling the sting of tears blurring her vision.

She lifted her head and drifted toward what once had been her home-her father's place.

But then, she realized that place wasn't her home anymore.

Medical bills for her father and brother piled so high that her only refuge was a cramped basement flat.

She no longer lived the life of a spoiled socialite. Declan had stripped that away and left her little more than a plaything for his amusement.

She could never forget the day everything collapsed. Declan had claimed her father's office, tossed the divorce agreement onto the floor, and pressed it in place with his shoe, leaving her no choice but to kneel and sign.

Refusal meant her father, Sebastian Dawson, who'd thrown himself from a rooftop, would be denied urgent care.

Time had marched on, three months since that moment, but Melinda still burned with that same hatred, remembering her trembling hand as she scribbled her name on the document.

Those endless nights had nearly broken her. Still, every time she thought about giving up, she found another reason to survive.

Looking back, it was her love for Declan that had brought about her family's ruin.

Yet her feelings for him stretched far beyond a couple of years.

She had fallen for him ever since the day he rescued her and suffered both injury and temporary blindness.

But when they met again, he had forgotten those old memories. As the castaway son of the Gibson family, he had been driven by ambition to marry her, and kept his heart frozen.

Now, Melinda could finally see the motive behind Declan's destruction of the Dawson family.

Still, her heart resisted. Her father couldn't be that cruel. There had to be some misunderstanding.

Night swallowed the city as Melinda made her way back to the hospital, desperate for answers only her father could give.

But Sebastian was now in a vegetative state. She couldn't get any answers from him.

Eyes lingering on her father, she saw a shell of the man he once was-reduced to frailty, though just months earlier he'd commanded power and respect as a business giant.

He had always been fair, his love for his children never in question, his affection for Melinda especially clear.

A decade earlier, when her mother's betrayal ended their marriage, he chose grace and allowed the divorce for the children's sake.

Could a man with so much gentleness in him be guilty of such cruelty?

Her words were soft, almost a plea. "Dad, you told me two years ago-Declan was only friends with Claire, and he married me willingly. You never lied to me. You never locked Claire away, right?"

Melinda's mind drifted to her father's longtime secretaries. If anything secret or underhanded happened, those two would have known about it.

Quickly, she tried dialing both their numbers, but neither line went through.

Further digging revealed a troubling detail: both secretaries were fired and returned to their hometowns the very day her father jumped off the rooftop.

Could that really be a mere coincidence?

Suspicion creased her brow. But Declan had taken the reins, and it made sense that he had fired those loyal to her father.

She decided to find the secretaries. "Maybe they could prove Dad had no contact with Claire," she murmured.

"Claire? Dad met that woman!" Suddenly, a voice cut in from the doorway.

A jolt of surprise ran through Melinda, and she raised her head.

Melinda saw her eleven-year-old brother leaning against the doorframe, short and thin for his age. Each shaky attempt to drag the IV stand left him breathless, wracked by harsh coughs.

Jayden Dawson had been born with a severe blood disorder.

Their mother, overwhelmed and resentful, betrayed their father for another man, leaving a broken marriage in her wake.

To those on the outside, the Dawson family presented the image of prosperity, but only Sebastian truly knew the pain and exhaustion of raising three children by himself.

A lump formed in Melinda's throat as she took in Jayden's pale features, worry making her heart sink. "Jayden, do you know anything about Claire?"

Shuffling forward, Jayden's every movement revealed years of muscle wasting from his chronic illness.

He let his gaze wander over to the hospital bed. "There was a picture of Claire in Dad's office. He was furious-said he'd been threatened. After that, Dad went abroad with Norton Butcher, his secretary. I'm not sure if he went to meet Claire."

Abroad? Melinda frowned at the information. Declan said he'd discovered Claire at her father's home. And who, exactly, had threatened her father? Could it be Claire?

Melinda had only crossed paths with Claire one time, just before marrying Declan.

Claire had called, her voice shaky with tears, offering congratulations and insisting she considered Declan nothing more than a friend. She had said she was leaving but had no money.

Moved by sympathy, Melinda had handed her a hundred thousand-far more than the ten thousand Claire had requested.

No sooner had Melinda handed Claire the money than Declan showed up, accusing her of trying to buy Claire's departure.

Tears slipped down Claire's cheeks as she clutched the money, playing the role of the victim.

Declan's disdain for Melinda only deepened after that day.

Although Claire looked harmless, every move she made seemed to carry hidden meaning.

A jolt of realization pulled Melinda out of her memories, her voice growing crisp. "There's more to the story. I can feel it."

Jayden's words came out brittle and cold. "Is my brother-in-law having an affair with Claire?"

"He's no longer your brother-in-law." Melinda sidestepped the question, swallowing a fresh wave of heartache.

A sudden fit of coughing from Jayden yanked her from her thoughts.

Ripped sleeves and hunched shoulders caught her eye, his arms tucked behind his back in an attempt to hide them.

Gently, she took hold of his arm, only to find a fresh cut on his arm and a bruise swelling on his forehead.

A cold passed over her features. "Who did this to you? Why aren't you in your ward? What are you doing here with Dad in the middle of the night?"

Jayden's thin face hardened, and he pulled his arm away from her grasp. "It's nothing. Please don't worry about me."

"Jayden!" Worry twisting in her gut, Melinda seized his arm again, fear already blooming. "Is this about the hospital bills? Did they force you out of the ward?"

A defiant look flashed in Jayden's eyes, tears gathering at the edges.

Determined not to crumble, he bit out his confession. "They kicked me out, so I fought back! But Melinda, I can't let you keep working as a bar girl because of me. Promise me you won't."

Melinda went still, shame creeping into her cheeks. "Have the nurses been talking about me?"

"If I end up dying, then so be it! You're Dad's precious daughter; you shouldn't throw your dignity away for me," Jayden replied, every cough laced with frustration.

Red tinged Melinda's eyes, the ache in her heart both fierce and tender.

Leaving him be was never an option.

The list of what Jayden needed felt endless-another surgery, constant dialysis, expensive medications shipped from overseas-and she was already drowning in debt from it all.

With her savings drained to nothing, desperation had driven her to sell herself and become a surrogate.

Instead, she'd crossed paths with Declan, suffered humiliation, and returned home empty-handed.

A crushing sense of helplessness threatened to overwhelm her, and she dreaded having to face Deanna, who was counting on her to deliver a commission.

Her thoughts barely settled when her phone buzzed with an urgent ring.

A flicker of alarm crossed Melinda's face as she answered. "Deanna..."

A biting reprimand crackled through the phone. Deanna's tone was unforgiving. "Melinda, what were you thinking? How could you screw up and upset a VIP? You've wasted my time. Show up tomorrow night, collect your final pay, and don't come back!"

"No, Deanna, please don't do this," Melinda pleaded, collapsing to her knees. Was Declan behind all of this? He wanted to ruin her completely after she rejected his offer.

But Jayden's treatment was non-negotiable-he couldn't go a day without it.

Of all her options, only the bar offered fast cash. No matter her pride, she would have to beg Deanna for another chance.

On the second night, Melinda slipped into the skimpy, alluring dress she wore for work.

Inside the bar's lavish office, Deanna delivered her decision without a hint of sympathy. "The boss wants you gone. No one dares to cross a big client like that. You used to be a high-born socialite, but that means nothing now."

When Melinda first started, men had lined up for a chance to spend time with her, their stares glued to her every move.

She really was a vision-elegance from her privileged past still showed in every feature, from her flawless skin to her spellbinding eyes. Simply walking into a room, she commanded attention.

Deanna had once imagined Melinda would bring in a fortune, but now she had lost hope. "Just take your money and get out."

"I'm begging you, Deanna. I have nowhere else to go-I need this job," Melinda said, her voice breaking.

"Everyone in this place is desperate for cash," Deanna retorted, her glare unwavering. Catching sight of Melinda's broken look, she let out a long breath and eased her tone. "You know who you crossed. If you want to stay, swallow your pride and apologize, or find another man willing to pay for your company. Either way, you can stay until morning."

Shock drained the color from Melinda's cheeks, leaving her stunned. After a while, she said bitterly, "Thanks, Deanna."

Inside, resentment twisted in her chest. Who else could have pulled the strings against her? No matter what happened, she would choose anything over groveling before Declan again.

Bracing herself, Melinda drew in a shaky breath, bit down on her lip, and made her way along the corridor.

Azure Bar had a reputation for draining wallets-the city's most extravagant playground-its elusive owner only adding to the bar's myth. The place was legendary, attracting everyone from powerful socialites to shadowy underworld figures.

Even the glassy walls seemed to be watching, every angle reflecting secrets and stories.

Without warning, a familiar woman's face appeared, mirrored on a wall.

Turning around, Melinda stood face-to-face with Claire.