Reckless Billionaire’s Ruthless Claim (Obsessed Billionaires, Cherished Brides #4)

Chapter 1 A Temporary Replacement

Ellie Madden's phone dinged with a new message.

‘Hey Ellie, I just saw your boyfriend hugging a woman at a private party. They looked really close. You should hurry to the party before he gets seduced by another woman.’ -X

Her hand froze mid-reach for popcorn. The piece she had just eaten caught in her throat, making her cough loudly. Slapping her chest to shove it down, she grabbed a soda, gulping it in one go. She stared at the message, her heart racing.

Tossing the phone aside, she leapt out of bed, grabbing a dress from the closet and throwing it on in a frenzy. Just as she was about to leave, Ellie hesitated, turning back to grab her makeup bag and phone.

‘Please send me the address.’ She texted back to the unknown, mysterious texter ‘X’.

Fifteen minutes later, Ellie stood outside a grand estate, its lights spilling out onto the driveway, indicating the lavish party within. The sight of the sprawling mansion didn’t intimidate her despite not coming from wealth.

Dressed in a fitted black dress that hugged her slender frame, she paired it with matching heels, exuding effortless confidence. Her wavy chestnut hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her sharp, playful eyes gleamed under the glow of the lights.

Marching up to the front door, she tried to enter, but a firm hand grabbed her arm.

“Your invite, ma’am?” The security guard extended a hand, his eyes sweeping over her from head to toe.

Ellie bit her lip, stepping aside. It was a private party of the richest elites of the country; sneaking in would be nearly impossible. Quickly pulling out her phone, she texted back to ‘X’ who had sent her the tip-off.

‘Hey, I can’t get in without an invite. Can you do something?’

The reply didn’t come, but within minutes, the guard’s phone buzzed. After a brief conversation on the call with someone, he stepped aside.

“You’re free to go in, ma’am.”

Ellie grinned and rushed inside at once.

The interior was as grand as she had imagined—golden chandeliers, marble floors, and walls adorned with expensive artwork. There were murmurs rippling through the crowd, whispers about the opportunity to own a share in the Cage Hospitals Group, as tonight's party celebrated the company going public.

Yet, Ellie’s focus wasn’t on the grandeur of the event or the lavish decor surrounding her.

Her eyes darted across the crowded main hall, scanning for the familiar figure.

Her heart sank when she spotted Sawyer Stark. His tall, commanding presence was impossible to miss, and his effortlessly handsome looks made him stand out even in a sea of wealthy elites.

His jet-black hair was neatly styled, sharp gray eyes cold and unreadable. The tailored suit hugged his broad shoulders and lean frame perfectly, exuding power with every breath. Even in a room full of billionaires, he was the one who looked like he owned everything—and he probably did.

But it wasn’t just him she noticed—it was the woman in a figure-hugging green gown standing dangerously close to him. She had a glass of wine in hand, feigning tipsiness as she reached out to touch Sawyer’s arm.

“Sawyer,” the woman purred in a breathy voice. “I feel a little lightheaded. Can you take me upstairs to my room?”

Sawyer, who had been mid-conversation with others, turned his head slowly, as if only now registering the woman next to himself, and her touch on his arm.

Ellie didn’t wait another second. She stormed forward, coming to stand right in front of him.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded, her voice trembling slightly. Her eyes flicked to the woman’s hand still resting on his arm. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to a party? A private party? I would’ve come with you.”

Sawyer’s piercing eyes turned to her, bored and cold. Without answering, he took another sip of his whiskey and walked over to a couch where his friends were gathered.

Ellie followed, standing awkwardly as two men and three women lounged around Sawyer.

They were all impeccably dressed in designer clothes that screamed wealth and privilege. The women, with their high heels, flawless makeup, and air of arrogance, looked every bit as polished as their outfits.

One of the women at the table chimed in, her voice dripping with curiosity. "Is this Sawyer’s girlfriend everyone talks about?" Her eyes narrowed as she gave Ellie a scrutinizing look from head to toe. "Doesn’t Olivia look a lot like her?" she asked, turning to the people beside her.

They nodded in agreement, one of the men murmuring, "Yeah, I just realized. No wonder I thought she looked very familiar."

At that moment, the woman in the green dress, Alina, snapped her head toward them. "What are you even saying? Listen to yourself." She scoffed, glaring at Ellie with disdain. "What lookalike? My best friend and this thing? Olivia and her only have a slight resemblance. That’s why she’s just a temporary replacement for Olivia in Sawyer’s life."

"Replacement?" one of the black-haired men, Elliot, asked, raising a curious brow.

"Obviously," Alina smirked, her tone sharp. "Olivia is the owner of a massive business empire like Whitlock Industries. How could this replacement even compare to Olivia? Does she even deserve to be mentioned in the same sentence as her? It’s a fucking insult." She scoffed.

The group erupted in snickers, and Alina leaned back in her seat, radiating smugness.

Ellie, however, ignored their taunts and turned her attention to Sawyer. As he sat on the couch, she knelt beside him. Her knees pressed against the cold floor, and she gently wrapped her hand around his arm.

Her voice was calm and soft as she said, "Husband, let’s go home now, okay?"

Sawyer recoiled as if her touch burned him, jerking her hand away, his face hardening into a scowl.

He took a slow sip of his whiskey, then set the glass down with a deliberate clink.

Rising to his full height, he towered over her, his expression hard with irritation. “I’m not your husband. I’ve told you a thousand times—stop calling me that! Have you really started thinking of yourself as my girlfriend?” His words were ice-cold, slicing through the noise around them. “Don’t forget that you’re just a woman I’m having fun with. And I pay you for that, don’t I?”

A stunned silence fell over the group, but it was quickly replaced with smirks and whispers. Alina leaned back on the couch, arms crossed, her lips curling into a triumphant smile.

Ellie rose back to her feet, her legs a little unsteady. She faced Sawyer, her smaller frame barely reaching his chest, making her feel even more aware of how close he was.

Sawyer grabbed his whiskey glass again, casually pulling a card from his coat pocket. With a careless flick of his wrist, he tossed it toward Ellie. “Here’s five thousand dollars. Take it and leave this place right now.”

The card landed with a soft click on the floor, and Ellie’s gaze followed it, her heart sinking.

‘You want to get rid of me so easily?’ she thought, her face fell even further, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.

She looked up at Sawyer, meeting his cold, dark eyes. "Do you really think I came here for your money?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Sawyer took another sip of his whiskey and scoffed, a smirk curling on his lips. "What? It’s not enough?"

He pulled out another card from his pocket. "Here. Ten thousand. Is this enough to get rid of you?”

Ellie stared at the card, her hand tightening into fists. Her eyes filled with tears, but she held his gaze, struggling to keep her voice steady. “So in your eyes, everything I do for you is just for your money?” she asked softly. "Do you seriously think I’m a person like that?"

Sawyer’s expression didn’t change. If anything, it grew more indifferent, more bored as he held the card extended toward her.

Just as he was about to lower it, Ellie choked out, “Alright. Fine! I’ll leave you alone then.” Her words were thick with emotion. “I’ll take your money and leave you alone!”

She snatched the card from his hand, wiping her tears with her other hand as she quickly turned, heading for the door.

Sawyer’s cold gaze followed her retreating figure, uncaring.

Ellie had only taken two steps when her feet froze, her body trembling. Behind her, Alina’s mocking voice rang out, “What happened? The money’s still not enough for you to leave? How greedy are you?”

Ellie sniffled, her breath hitching as she wiped another tear from her face. She turned back, her shoulders slumped in defeat. Her eyes met Sawyer’s—hesitant, filled with care. She looked at the whiskey glass in his hand, her fingers still clutching the card as she spoke softly.

"Don’t drink anymore," she said quietly. "Your stomach will hurt. Come home early."

Without waiting for a reply, she turned and walked out of the house.

Sawyer watched her retreating figure, his gaze lingering as she wiped another tear from her face. A heavy sigh escaped his lips, and he set the whiskey glass down without taking another sip.

‘She’s really in love with me,’ Sawyer thought, recalling the way she’d worried about him.

Elliot broke the silence with a mocking chuckle. “Wow, even after you tore her apart like that, she’s still worried about you.” His tone dripped with amusement as he swirled the amber liquid in his glass. Leaning back lazily, he took another slow swig of whiskey, letting the burn settle before smirking. “Doesn’t she have any self-respect? What is she? Blind in your love?”

As Ellie disappeared from view, Sawyer finally took a deep breath, his jaw tightening. His expression darkened. He turned to Elliot, muttering, “It doesn’t matter.” His voice was low, almost detached, but there was a rough edge to it.

He sank onto the opposite couch, far from Alina. Shadows flickered across his face under the lighting, his fingers tapping against his knee. “I know she’s not after my money, but I have someone else. I can’t let her have false hopes.”

He leaned back, closing his eyes tightly for a moment before letting out another deep sigh. “She’ll go home and cry it out, just like always,” he murmured, shaking his head as if trying to shake off the weight of his own words. Taking a small sip of whiskey, he let the familiar burn settle in his chest.

Ellie stepped out of the estate, her heels clicking softly against the pavement as she hurried along the dimly lit street, desperate to put as much distance as possible between herself and that place. Her shoulders shook hard, her body trembling with each step, her breathing ragged.

As the footpath ended and she reached the main road, Ellie’s trembling grew uncontrollable. Her shoulders shaking harder, and then, without warning, a loud splutter escaped her lips, breaking the tense silence. Suddenly, she burst into laughter—loud, unrestrained, and almost unhinged.

Her voice echoed in the quiet night as she pulled the card out of her purse. Holding it up, she stared at it with a strange mix of affection and amusement, her giggles only growing louder.

“I really, really, really love money so much!” Ellie jumped up and down, kissing the card in her hand like it was the most precious treasure in the world. A wide grin stretched across her face, her joy almost childlike in its intensity.

Spinning on her heel, she glanced back at the glittering lights of the mansion where the party raged on, the sound of muffled music and laughter seeping into the cold night air, her smile never faltering. Then, with a playful skip in her step, she turned back toward the road.

"You treat me as a replacement for your old love, and I treat you as my personal ATM machine," she muttered, her tone laced with mockery as she snickered. "Good for both of us, you scumbag."

She twirled the card between her fingers and called out loudly into the empty street, "Enjoy your delusions, Sawyer Narcissist Stark. You just paid the price for the privilege of being fooled by me."

Huffing loudly, Ellie pressed the card to her chest, a wide grin stretching across her face. Her laughter rang through the quiet night, light and carefree. With a little twirl, she skipped down the sidewalk, her steps bouncing with excitement as she made her way back home.

***

It was late at night when Sawyer finally returned home. The house was dimly lit, but the lights in Sawyer’s bedroom still glowed softly. As his BMW rolled into the driveway, the maids at the Stark house immediately sprang into action, preparing to care for him.

Ada, one of the older maids who’d worked for the Stark family for years, glanced out of the window as Sawyer exited his car, her eyes widening in panic. Her graying hair was neatly pulled into a bun, and fine lines creased her warm brown eyes. Dressed in a simple black uniform, her frail yet upright posture spoke of years of discipline and quiet loyalty.

She immediately rushed to Ellie’s bedroom, peeking inside.

“Miss Ellie, SNS is home!” she said urgently.

Ada had no idea that SNS stood for ‘Sawyer Narcissist Stark’. Hearing Ellie call Sawyer ‘SNS’ all the time when he wasn’t around, the maids in the house had unknowingly picked up the habit themselves. While they usually addressed him as ‘Mr. Stark’ in his presence, behind his back, the maids had also begun calling him SNS.

None of them knew what the initials truly stood for—they simply assumed it was a sweet, endearing, affectionate nickname or a playful shorthand for Sawyer’s name that Ellie had created. After all, Ellie said it with such ease and a happy smile.

Ellie, who had been lounging on her back with a tablet in hand and a bag of chips by her side, jolted upright. She slapped her hands over her mouth to wipe away the crumbs and sprang out of bed, dashing out of the room.

As Sawyer stepped inside, Ellie hurried to meet him with an eager smile. “You’re back,” she said, her voice bubbling with warmth as she rushed to help him take off his coat. “Welcome home.”

She carefully placed his coat on the couch before grabbing his hand with both of hers, her smile never fading. “Come, I made some soup for you. It’ll help with the stomach ache in the morning.” she added sweetly.

She led him to the dining table, her hands light on his arm as she guided him into the chair. But before she could turn away to fetch the soup, Sawyer’s hand shot out, gripping her arm with unexpected force. He spun her around, pulling her in close.

His other hand slid to her face, his thumb brushing over her lips before he cupped her jaw. His gaze locked onto hers, dark and intense, as if he was trying to read the very depth of her soul.

“You are happy?” he muttered, his voice laced with doubt.

Ellie froze, her cheerful demeanor faltering.

‘Shit. I forgot I was supposed to look sad!’ she panicked internally.

“N-no?” she stammered, quickly softening her expression into a timid, forced smile.

Sawyer’s grip tightened, a faint tremor in his fingers as his eyes searched her face, studying her with a quiet intensity. ‘She loves me so much,’ he thought bitterly, 'she's even faking a smile after the way I treated her tonight, hiding the hurt instead of showing the sadness she must be feeling.’

His chest tightened at the thought, but he remained still, his expression cold and unreadable.

His voice softened just enough to make her shiver, but the sharpness in it never fully disappeared. “You should know your place by now.” He pulled her closer, their bodies colliding in a raw, possessive press as he looked down into her eyes. “If it weren’t for my mom forcing me to date you because you look like the woman I love, you wouldn’t even be in this house.”

Ellie remained silent, staring up at him. Her heart pounded, but she said nothing.

Sawyer’s tone grew colder with every word. “So, don’t get any unrealistic expectations out of this relationship. Don’t try to act like you are my real girlfriend again.” His eyes searched hers, demanding a response.

Ellie’s lips thinned, her gaze dropped to the floor. After a brief pause, she nodded obediently.

Sawyer let out a satisfied breath, releasing her face. But as he stepped back, his eyes caught the faint imprint of his fingers on her skin, and for a brief moment, he froze. ‘Did I hurt her?’ His hand moved instinctively toward her face, but before he could touch her, Ellie turned quickly and headed to the kitchen.

She busied herself with the soup, stirring it calmly to pour in the bowl as though nothing had happened. But Sawyer was already following her closely behind.

“I know,” she said softly, not looking at him. “I know I’m just a temporary replacement for the woman you love. What right do I have to feel upset?”

As soon as she spoke the words, Sawyer’s hand grasped her waist, spinning her around. He pressed her against the kitchen counter, his frown deepening as he looked at her face.

"Don’t worry," he said, his tone softer now. "There are benefits to being Sawyer Stark’s temporary girlfriend. After all, not everyone gets the privilege of sharing a bedroom with me." He smirked, glancing down at the fading imprint of his fingers on her cheek, a satisfied glint in his eyes.

“I’ll take you shopping tomorrow,” he added casually. “You can buy whatever you want.”

Ellie’s eyes lit up briefly before she quickly masked her excitement with a solemn expression. She gave a small, sad nod. “Alright,” she murmured.

“I can give you everything, Ellie.” Sawyer said quietly, releasing her and stepping back, “but not my love.”

With that, he turned and walked away, tossing a final instruction over his shoulder. “Bring the soup to my room. I’m going to shower.”

Ellie waited until he disappeared up the stairs.

The moment he was out of sight, Ellie rolled her eyes. Turning back to the soup, she muttered under her breath, dripping with sarcasm, “Mhm, if it weren’t for your ‘everything except love,’ I wouldn’t be dumb enough to play ‘house’ with you in this ridiculous acting show, SNS.”

Her gaze shifted to the shiny card sitting on the counter—the very one he’d handed her at the private party.

“I already have everything I love most about you,” she said with a smile.