Shattered Vows: Bankrupting My Billionaire Fiancé

Ten years. I spent a decade quietly suffocating on my unrequited love for Donovan.

He finally proposed to me only after he had exhausted every resource trying to find Penelope, and gave up. Penelope was my best friend.

She was also the exgirlfriend who ghosted him five years ago, leaving him wrecked. When he slid that ring on my finger, I thought the worst was over. I thought I had finally won.

Until the eve of our engagement. We took a trip out to the forgotten, backwoods Appalachian town where I used to volunteer. And we stumbled right into a nightmare.

We found Penelope. A drunk was beating her in the dirt. The former prom queen. Stripped halfnaked. A heavy iron chain locked tight around her bruised throat.

She dragged herself through the mud, sobbing, reaching for Donovan. He dropped to his knees, pulling her into a desperate embrace. Then, she peered over his shoulder.

Her hollow eyes locked onto mine. Her voice cracked, thick with manic relief. “Ainsley… I knew it. I knew you wouldn't lie to me.

You finally brought Donovan to save me…” Chapter 1 Donovan and I went rigid at the exact same second. I stared blankly at Penelope.

She was curled against Donovan's chest, shaking, weeping uncontrollably. A deafening roar rushed through my ears. The world tilted, erasing all rational thought. Wouldn't lie to me?

Finally brought Donovan to save me? Bile clawed up my throat. I had no idea she was out here! “Donovan, I—” The words choked off on my tongue as I met his gaze.

The gentle warmth he once had for me was gone. Instead, pure, glacial hatred stared back. A violent shudder ripped down my spine. Ice water flooded my veins. Donovan looked away.

He stripped off his jacket, wrapping it gently around Penelope's shivering shoulders. He scooped her up into his arms like she was spun glass. “The fuck?

Who the hell do you think you are? Put my woman down!” Bo, the drunk, finally snapped out of his stupor.

He spat a string of curses, lunging forward to block Donovan's path. “Donovan, please…” Penelope whimpered.

Seeing the man get closer, her pale, trembling fingers twisted tightly into Donovan's shirt collar. Her face drained of all color, her body vibrating like a leaf in a storm.

Donovan stopped. Bo charged. Donovan's leg snapped out—a vicious, brutal kick straight to Bo's chest!

The man crashed backward into the dirt. “Back the fuck off.” Donovan glared down at him. Murderous intent radiated off his rigid shoulders.

He looked ready to tear the man apart with his bare hands. “Anyone who laid a hand on Penelope…” His voice dropped to a lethal, gravelly whisper. “I will end them.

Every single one.” His merciless gaze sliced back to me. My blood stopped pumping. He turned his back on me.

I scrambled forward, my fingers hooking desperately onto his sleeve. “DDonovan, please, you have to listen to me!

I didn't—I swear I didn't know, I—” “Enough!” He ripped his arm away. The force sent me tumbling backward. I slammed hard onto the unforgiving concrete. Agony exploded up my arm.

I could almost hear the sickening crack of my own bone. He towered over me.

The venom in his voice shattered whatever fragile hope I had left. “Ainsley, you disgust me.” He walked away. He left me there. Alone.

Left me bleeding on the ground with a humiliated, enraged drunk. “Stupid bitch! Look at the mess you brought to my door!” Fingers twisted viciously into my hair.

Searing pain ripped across my scalp. Bo grabbed my hair and dragged me forward. “That's my woman!

Why the hell did your man get to take her?!” he screamed, his putrid breath washing over my face. “Since he dumped you here, you can entertain me tonight!” He dragged me toward the rotting, dimly lit dirt cabin.

It loomed in the shadows. Like an open mouth waiting to swallow me alive. Blind terror crushed my chest.

I thrashed wildly, kicking at the dirt, screaming until my throat tore. “Let me go! Get off me! Help!

Somebody, help me!” “Shut your fucking mouth!” A massive hand cracked across my cheek. The metallic tang of blood instantly flooded my mouth. My ears rang with a highpitched whine.

He was too big. My struggling was completely useless. My muscles burned, exhausted. Yet I was dragged closer to the threshold. Inch by agonizing inch.

Someone… please, someone save me. Helpless terror and despair broke the dam, hot tears pouring over my cheeks. Until that cold, retreating silhouette flashed behind my eyelids.

Donovan. My chest caved in. A physical, agonizing spasm seized my heart.

My fingernails dug frantically into the wooden doorframe, splintering the wood, until a brutal kick to my wrist shattered my grip. I was yanked inside.

The stench of filth hit me as rough, calloused hands tore at my shirt, reaching for my chest— I squeezed my eyes shut, my teeth chattering violently as I prepared to bite down on my own tongue and end it all.

Chapter 2 “Get the hell off her!!” A familiar, furious roar shattered the air as heavy hands violently grabbed the man pinning me down, shoving him hard into the dirt. “Ainsley, are you okay?!” Wyatt rushed in, planting himself firmly between me and Bo.

He glared down at the drunk, his voice trembling with rage. “Bo, you drunken piece of shit! Have you lost your mind?! You put your hands on Ainsley?!

Half the town would skin you alive for this!” The shouting seemed to snap Bo out of his stupor.

He stumbled backward, though he didn't stop his vile, resentful muttering. “Her man took my woman. He's the one who dumped her here for me…” An invisible fist crushed my windpipe.

Icy dread coated my spine, mixing with the sickening adrenaline of sheer terror. My lungs refused to expand.

I pitched forward, my stomach heaving into the dirt. “Wyatt—” I gasped, desperate to get away from this rotting cabin. I tried to push myself up.

Blinding, whitehot agony ripped up my right arm.

A sharp, guttural scream tore from my throat. “Ainsley, your arm… I think it's broken.” Wyatt stared in horror at my swelling, purple elbow. “You need to call Donovan.

Tell him to get you to the ER, right now.” Wyatt frowned, looking around the empty, shadowy yard. “Wait, wasn't he just here with you?

Where the hell did he go?” His voice trailed off as Bo's filthy words suddenly clicked in his brain. Wyatt scanned the shadows, realizing Penelope was completely gone.

Disbelief washed over his face. “Did he seriously—” “Wyatt.

Please.” I swallowed the battery acid burning my throat, cutting him off before he could finish that sentence. “Can I borrow your phone?

I need to call Donovan.” During the struggle on the ground, my frantic fingers accidentally dialed the most recent number in my call log.

The phone had flown from my grip, shattering into a muddy ditch before I even saw the screen. I punched in Donovan's number from memory.

With every dial tone, the terror of the last ten minutes clawed its way back up my throat. The line clicked open.

A strangled, ugly sob ripped out of me. “Donovan, where are you… I—” No comfort came.

Only a sharp, razorthin voice that sliced right through my tears. “Ainsley, are you out of your mind?” “I just hung up on you.

You couldn't take a hint, so you found a random number to harass me with?” Donovan took a deep breath.

The suppressed fury in his tone crackled through the speaker. “Penelope is having a complete breakdown right now. Do not contact me again tonight.

And absolutely do not show your face anywhere near me.” Each syllable dropped like an anvil. A flat, clinical threat.

I could vividly picture the deep crease between his brows, the sheer, unadulterated annoyance painting his features. I just hung up on you.

The words bypassed my brain and slammed directly into my sternum. The desperate SOS call. The one I made while fighting for my life in the dirt. It had gone to Donovan.

He hadn't missed it. He had declined it. If Wyatt hadn't shown up… A sickening, highpitched ring flooded my ears. The world dropped out from underneath me.

I swiped blindly at the hot moisture pouring down my face, numb. Wyatt guided me to his truck and drove me straight to the ER. I didn't utter a single syllable the entire ride.

Chapter 3 Wyatt practically carried me through the ER doors, handling the paperwork while I moved like a hollow shell. “Ainsley, wait right here.

I need to take this call.” Wyatt guided me into a hard, plastic waiting room chair before stepping away. He hadn't been gone two minutes before a shadow fell over me. “Ainsley.

Why the hell are you here?” A heavy hand clamped down on my right arm. A violent jerk. Whitehot agony splintered through my fractured elbow.

I flinched hard, my breath hitching in my throat. I looked up.

Donovan towered over me, his eyes dead and cold. “Did you track my location?” he scoffed, his lip curling in disgust. “Are you seriously that pathetic?” “What…” His voice faltered.

Donovan finally registered the massive, purple bruising blooming across my cheek. He looked down at the swollen, misshapen elbow trapped in his grip.

He dropped my arm like it burned him.

His fingertips hovered, lightly brushing the split, crusted skin at the corner of my mouth. “Who did this to you?” A deep crease formed between his brows.

A fleeting, almost imperceptible crack of worry fractured his cold exterior. “Bo.” The name tasted like ash. “You took Penelope.

He needed someone else to take it out on.” A thousand tiny needles pierced my chest.

I let out a dry, hollow laugh, turning my face away to escape the sudden, suffocating heat of his touch.

The PA system coldly buzzed to life, breaking the suffocating tension as it called my name. I grabbed the edge of my Xray envelope with my good hand. “I didn't track you.

My phone is at the bottom of a ditch.” I forced myself to meet his stare. “I'm just here as a patient. Just like Penelope.” Two years ago.

Back when we were building our startup from the ground up. A sleazy investor, Harvey, had spiked my drink and tried to drag me up to his hotel room.

Donovan had kicked the door off its hinges, walked straight up to Harvey, and shattered his nose with two brutal punches. He brought me back to his apartment.

He sat perfectly still beside my bed, watching me breathe until the sun came up.

When I woke up, a new tracking app was sitting on my home screen. “Ainsley, if you're ever in danger again, I'll be the first one there.” His eyes had been rimmed with exhausted, bloodshot red.

Even though nothing had actually happened, the guilt was eating him alive. Seeing him completely wrecked over me made my own chest ache.

I had blurted out a stupid joke just to make him look at me. “Only if we make it fair. You download it too.

That way I can keep tabs on my business partner 24/7.” Instant regret had flooded me. We were just cofounders.

He knew I was desperately in love with him, but he had never crossed that line. I opened my mouth to take it back.

But Donovan had already pulled out his phone, a serious intensity locking onto my face. “You're right, Ainsley.

Track me whenever you want.” A heavy, unfamiliar heat flared in his eyes.

A look that swallowed me whole. “Wait, I—I was just kidding, that's crossing a line—” I stammered, my pulse hammering against my ribs. Donovan just smiled.

His warm palms cupped my face, his thumbs brushing my cheekbones. “Ainsley, it's perfectly normal for a girlfriend to keep tabs on her guy.

So… will you be my girlfriend?” Now, standing in the sterile ER hallway. My mocking tone—or maybe just the mere mention of Penelope's name—snapped him out of his fleeting guilt.

A dark, suffocating shadow instantly dropped over Donovan's features. He stared dead at me. His gaze plunged back to subzero.

Chapter 4 “How dare you even say Penelope's name.” Donovan's voice was a low, lethal hiss. “Do you have any idea how many scars cover her body?!

You let her rot in this hellhole for three years. All for your own sick, selfish jealousy.” “And now?

That drunk barely laid a hand on you.” He stepped closer, his shadow swallowing me. “You don't get to stand here and play the victim!” The syllables lashed across my skin.

A sickening, heavy chill sank straight into my marrow. My fingernails sliced deep crescents into my palms. My knees buckled.

I snatched the heavy Xray envelope and whipped it directly into his chest. “Shut your mouth, Donovan!” “I never saw Penelope!

I never knew she was trapped in this godforsaken town!” I screamed, my vocal cords tearing. “How many times do I have to spell it out for you?!” Hot, humiliating moisture spilled over my cheeks.

The waiting room fell dead silent. Strangers stared. Donovan always cared about optics. He should have walked away. Instead, he froze.

A violent tremor of panic fractured his icy stare. “Ainsley…” He reached out. His thumb brushed a wet track on my cheekbone.

He flinched, snapping his hand back like my skin burned him. I never cried in front of him. Never.

Any tears I shed over Donovan had always been swallowed down in the dark. “Ainsley, stop. Please.” Donovan pulled me against his chest.

His hands awkwardly hovered, carefully avoiding my shattered arm. His jaw ticked. Agony tore through his eyes. “I looked for her for so long.

And she was out here… being ripped apart.

She said… she said she saw you.” “I didn't know.” I forced the words past the sandpaper in my throat. “Donovan, if I really did this… why would I let you anywhere near that cabin today?

I wouldn't have even agreed to come back to Oakhaven with you. Would I?” The brutal logic snapped his jaw shut. He stared down at me.

The exhaustion radiating from my eyes drained the remaining color from his face. “I—I'm so sorry, Ainsley. Please.

Just forgive me—” He crushed me tighter against him, his voice cracking with desperate pleading. A bloodcurdling scream shredded the quiet ER hallway. “NO!! Get away from me!

Get out!!” Donovan's muscles instantly locked to stone. He shoved me backward hard. “Penelope!” He sprinted toward the trauma room.

He never even looked down to see me crash into the linoleum. Never saw me struggling to drag myself back up. I hauled myself against the wall. Inch by agonizing inch.

I limped to the doorway of trauma room 3. Donovan had Wyatt pinned by the collar against the drywall. His fist was pulled back, primed to shatter Wyatt's jaw. “Donovan!

What the hell is wrong with you?!” I threw my body directly in front of Wyatt.

The brutal rush of air from Donovan's knuckles brushed my face as he jerked his punch away at the last millisecond. “Ainsley!” Donovan roared.

Wyatt grabbed my uninjured shoulder, yanking me behind him. “Ainsley, are you okay?!” He barely got the words out before Donovan's venomous, gritted teeth cut through the room.

Chapter 5 “You set this up, didn't you, Ainsley?” His gaze dragged over Wyatt and me. Pure, toxic ice. Donovan pointed a shaking finger at my chest.

A dark, hollow laugh ripped from his throat. “You play the victim. You use a broken arm to bait my sympathy. All to stall me.

So Wyatt could drag Penelope back out of here!” His trembling finger pointed like a loaded gun. The accusation tore through my ribs.

A jagged blade, twisting mercilessly in my chest. “Wait, Donovan, no—” Wyatt stepped forward, desperate to intervene. “Donovan! Make him leave!

Get him away from me!” Penelope's shrill, panicked shriek pierced the room. She curled into the furthest corner of the hospital bed, trembling uncontrollably like a terrified stray.

Donovan's head snapped toward her. I ceased to exist. “Penelope, hey, look at me! I need a doctor in here!” Donovan vaulted across the room.

Without a single second of hesitation, he shoved his bare forearm straight toward her mouth. Her jaw clamped down. Hard. A harsh grunt punched out of Donovan's chest.

Fluorescent lights illuminated the deep crease between his brows. A sheen of cold sweat broke out across his forehead. It had to be agonizing.

Donovan's pain tolerance was notoriously pathetic. A simple paper cut usually resulted in him trailing after me, demanding I kiss it better.

An intrusive, suffocating memory flashed behind my eyes. That night in our apartment. He had wanted to help me in the kitchen.

He had picked up a heavy ceramic bowl of steaming soup to hand to me. But the heat seared his fingertips. The pain spiked. He let go.

Boiling, scalding broth cascaded entirely over the back of my hand. The guilt absolutely wrecked him. He waited on me hand and foot.

He spent days obsessively watching cooking tutorials just to make it up to me.

But watching him clumsily chop vegetables, seeing the little bandaids littering his knuckles… A sweet warmth spread through my chest, tangled with an undeniable ache for him.

So, I ripped off my burn dressings. I dusted thick concealer over the raw, blistering skin to hide the angry red flesh.

The searing, pulsing agony woke me up screaming in the dead of night. Yet, my only thought was how stupid I was. I knew he hated pain.

I never should have let him touch that bowl. “I've got you. You're safe. I'm right here.” Donovan's velvet, desperately gentle tone shattered the memory. He didn't flinch.

He didn't pull away. He just let Penelope's teeth sink deeper into his flesh. He looked down at her. Devastating devotion poured from his eyes.

I guess true love really does rewrite biology. It overrides basic human instinct. I stared blankly at their tangled bodies. Like the last five years never even happened.

The faint, metallic stench of copper hit the back of my throat. The room spun. My knees gave out. I collapsed against the wall, my empty stomach heaving over the linoleum.

A rushing doctor paused beside me for a fraction of a second. “Get over here! Now!” Donovan roared, instantly dragging the doctor's attention away.

I sat on the floor, watching the swarm of scrubs engulf Penelope's bed. My chest was empty. A flat, suffocating wasteland.

The agonizing throb in my heart finally flatlined. “Let's go, Wyatt.” I forced the words past my bruised lips. “I missed my turn.

I need a new ticket for the Xray.” I dragged myself up the wall. Wyatt stared at me, his face torn with pity, his mouth opening and closing silently.

I managed a weak, fragile smile. “Oh, right. That invitation I gave you yesterday? Just throw it out.

The engagement is off.” Chapter 6 I severely underestimated Meredith's wrath. “Ainsley, is this a sick joke?!” Her shrill voice vibrated through the speaker. “You spent a decade throwing yourself at Donovan's feet!

You begged for his scraps! Now he's finally willing to put a ring on it, and you suddenly snap and want to call it off?! The invitations are already out. The caterers are booked.

This engagement party is happening exactly as planned.

Vincent and I refuse to be the laughingstock of our country club because of your little temper tantrum!” No questions about my fractured arm.

No concern for the dead, hollow exhaustion in my voice. She simply steamrolled right over my boundaries. That was Meredith and Vincent. Optics over everything.

Social standing was the only currency that mattered in their penthouse.

It was the same twisted logic that tore me away from Grandma Doris's porch and shoved me into their sterile world. The same logic forcing me down the aisle now.

They never once asked if I was drowning. The line clicked dead. A harsh dial tone buzzed against my ear. Suffocating exhaustion swallowed me whole.

A dark, ugly venom seeped into the cracks of my ribs. If they hadn't forced me into that elite prep school just to flex their new money.

I never would have become Whitney and her trustfund clones' favorite punching bag. I never would have dragged myself up to that concrete roof.

And Donovan never would have pulled me back from the ledge. Back then, I worshiped the ground he walked on. I thought he was my salvation.

I didn't realize that stepping off that ledge just dropped me into a different kind of hell. Better late than never.

It just cost me a decade of my life to finally understand the punchline.

The second I returned to the city, my absolute refusal to proceed with the engagement triggered a nuclear fallout with my parents.

Only this time, they didn't threaten to cut me off. My family's empire was bleeding cash.

Meanwhile, the startup Donovan and I built from scratch was dominating the market, practically printing money.

Five years ago, when Donovan's family went bankrupt, I was just a stubborn girl blindly following him into the trenches. I wasn't that helpless pawn anymore.

I wasn't the disposable daughter they could just discard to save face. For an entire week, they weaponized guilt trips and hurled outright threats. I blocked their numbers.

I thought this vicious tugofwar was just me finally snapping thirty years of parental chains. I never anticipated the pushback would come from him.

After the catastrophe at the ER, I booked a redeye straight home. He stayed behind in Oakhaven to hover over Penelope. I assumed the engagement was dead in the water.

An unspoken casualty of that night. Until he barged into my office, slamming the door shut. “Ainsley. Why the hell are you canceling the party?

Did you use a single brain cell to think about the PR nightmare? If we publicly implode right now, the stock tanks. Your board will panic.

Do you understand the collateral damage you're causing?!” He violently pinched the bridge of his nose.

Heavy, bruised bags dragged under his eyes, reeking of sheer exhaustion. “The engagement proceeds as planned.” He leveled a flat, exhausted glare at me. “I know you're choking on guilt over Penelope.

I know you feel like you don't deserve this wedding. Once the rings are exchanged, I'm bringing Penelope back to the city. She's moving in with us.

You are going to take care of her.” His voice dropped, thick with a twisted, selfrighteous finality. “Consider it your penance. You owe her that much.” Chapter 7