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Billionaire Producer's Secret Wife
Billionaire Producer's Secret Wife
Author: Nivi Rosa

Chapter One

Author: Nivi Rosa
last update publish date: 2025-04-24 09:37:23

Serena Rivera had walked more red carpets in the last three months than in the twenty-two years of her life, and not once—not once—had Lucian Vale ever touched her like this.

Not once had he placed a hand on the small of her back.

Not once had he turned toward her for the cameras.

Not once had he so much as acknowledged her unless the moment absolutely demanded it.

Until tonight.

Tonight, the man who usually treated her like thin air wrapped a possessive arm around her waist, pulled her close like she was something breakable, and whispered low and dark against her ear—

“Smile. Like you’re mine.”

Her heart stalled.

She smiled. She had to. But it wasn’t for the cameras.

It was for survival.

And maybe—just maybe—because she remembered this touch. Once.

No one else in this entire room knew the truth.

Not the flashing press.

Not the fans screaming from barricades.

Not even the cast and crew of the very film she was supposed to be promoting tonight.

They didn’t know Serena Rivera was already married.

To Lucian Vale.

And Lucian Vale—the most terrifying, untouchable man in the industry—had never once acted like it mattered.

Not until now.

“Are you drunk?” she whispered back, voice tight behind her teeth, her expression frozen into practiced serenity.

His grip tightened. Just enough for her ribs to ache.

“Say that again,” he murmured, so low no one else could hear, “and I’ll drag you off this carpet so fast your career will never recover.”

There it was.

The real Lucian. Cold. Cruel. Controlled.

She hated him.

She hated that her skin still burned where he touched her. That her heart was still stupid enough to jump at his voice. That he could ruin her night without lifting a finger—and now he was actively trying.

“What is this?” she asked, still smiling for the cameras. “You haven’t looked at me in weeks. You barely acknowledge me unless we’re in private, and even then, you only speak in legalese. Now you’re—what? Playing husband for a few photos?”

His jaw ticked.

It was the only crack in his mask.

Then she saw it.

The flash of something—something dark, something dangerous—flare in his eyes as they slid over her shimmering black gown, the low cut back, the dangerously high slit.

She didn’t understand. Lucian had never cared about scandalous dresses. Hell, she was sure today was the first time he even noticed what she was wearing.

Aiden Wolfe—her co-star and Hollywood's King—passed by them, ignoring the shouts from the paparazzi for a photo.

"You won't see this again, so don't miss it," he called over his shoulder, gesturing between her and Lucian. Just like that, the cameras shifted—like Aiden had pulled a thread that redirected all attention. Then he jogged back to them and leaned in, lips near her ear. “You look beautiful, Serena.”

She frowned. He’d said that already, before they even stepped onto the carpet. But this time, it wasn’t the words that made her heart spike—it was the flick of his eyes toward Lucian, a deliberate smirk playing on his lips.

Lucian’s gaze turned black.

Colder than she’d ever seen it.

Not just angry. Something else. Something older.

Possession? Or was it the reminder that someone else had noticed what he’d ignored?

Aiden sauntered away with a smirk, and Serena could only pray no one caught the exchange...

Still, she smiled. Polite. Composed. She turned to walk off, leaving Lucian no choice but to follow.

“What was that?” she whispered, frantic once they were clear.

“What was that?” Lucian echoed, low and cold. He stepped into her space, and when she tried to back off, he caught her waist and yanked her forward. Her fingers gripped the fabric at his shoulder to steady herself.

His grip tightened.

“He call you beautiful all the time? Look at you like that? Like you’re his to touch?”

His voice was razor-sharp, laced with something dark and possessive. One hand slid up to her neck, fingers at her pulse, thumb brushing the shell of her ear—too soft. Too calculated.

Serena froze.

“Jealousy?” she managed, breath catching. “You’re seriously throwing a fit because Aiden called me beautiful?”

“You think this is jealousy?”

His fingers traced her jaw—barely a whisper of touch—but her skin lit up like fire.

“I think,” she said carefully, holding his stare, “you’re forgetting the terms of our contract.”

Lucian leaned closer. His breath was cold against her cheek.

“I remember them. Especially the part where your image reflects on me.”

“Which is why you decided to ignore me in public and not acknowledge our marriage. Right?"

His gaze darkened. "Don't pretend like you're dying to acknowledge this marriage. You can't wait to get out of it."

Serena generally has a lot of patience, but she lost it at that. "You can't wait to get out of it so you can ride off into the sunset with Seraphina."

“Don’t push me, Serena.”

Serena scoffed. "Does Seraphina know you're whoring around with some other rando? Because I know damn well you weren't going to Seraphina all those times late at night."

Aiden had told her that him and Seraphina were catching up with the crew for their next ambitious project and due to the busy schedule of the director, the talks were happening late at night.

"What if I am? Aren't you doing the same with Aiden Wolfe?" He said, cold and cruel.

Serena blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Then she let out a quiet, incredulous laugh.

"Aiden?" she repeated, her voice flat with disbelief. "You’re serious about bringing him into this?"

Lucian’s jaw clenched. He didn’t answer. Just let her step out of his hold.

Serena won't allow that. He doesn't get a choice to yank and push whenever he wanted.

She stepped forward. Her heels clicked sharply against the marble floor, and for a second, all the false polish fell from her expression.

“You treat me like a contract,” she whispered, “like I’m a name on paper, like I don’t even exist outside of a red carpet or press release. And the first time you so much as look at me, it’s not because you remembered we’re married. It’s because another man did what you don't want to.”

"Watch your mouth," he gazed down at her, voice dangerously low.

She laughed again—bitter this time, jagged like broken glass.

“No. You don’t get to play husband now, Lucian. Not after repeatedly driving it home that this is a contract. Not after months of pretending I was invisible. You don’t get to act like this marriage means something only when it threatens your pride.”

His eyes were burning. It was like the inside of a fire. Blue and Cold even in flame. “You think it’s just pride?”

“What else would it be?” Her voice cracked—barely. “You never wanted this. You made that clear."

Lucian didn’t answer. He stepped closer instead.

He looked as if he was about to say something. Then, deadlier and less quiet. "Just remember, Aiden Wolfe doesn’t love you.”

Serena’s spine snapped straight. “And you do?”

He stepped back.

And then, just like that, he walked away—no answer, no apology.

Leaving her standing there with her fingers still burning, her chest heaving, and her heart screaming something she couldn’t afford to listen to.

Not anymore.

She regretted marrying Lucian Vale.

Regretted the contract. The silence. The conditions.

But more than anything—

She regretted the part of her that still cared.

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  • Billionaire Producer's Secret Wife   Chapter 135

    The silence stretched until Serena couldn’t bear it anymore. She watched Seraphina across the dim warehouse space, studying the absolute stillness with which the other woman held herself. It was remarkable, Serena thought — almost unnerving — how someone could speak so calmly about losing fifteen years of her life, about losing a child, about losing the future she had once imagined for herself, and still sit with perfect posture. Like grief had long ago become another accessory she had learned to wear elegantly, another role she had mastered in front of an unforgiving audience. The warehouse hummed quietly around them. The low, steady drone of ventilation systems mixed with the occasional distant creak of old metal beams settling under their own weight. Faint ribbons of late afternoon light spilled through cracked panes high above, catching dust motes that drifted lazily like tiny, forgotten stars. It felt strangely peaceful for a place that held such devastating revelations.

  • Billionaire Producer's Secret Wife   Chapter 134

    Serena had expected shouting. Or cold accusation. Or the sharp edge of triumph that powerful people sometimes wore when they finally had someone cornered. Instead, Seraphina sat opposite her with her hands folded neatly in her lap, looking strangely… young. Not in appearance. Seraphina Devacraux had always possessed the kind of timeless beauty that cameras loved and time respected. But in history. As though the years between the woman before her and the girl she had once been had momentarily dissolved, leaving only someone exhausted by the weight of remembering. For a long while, neither of them spoke. The warehouse hummed quietly around them — the low, steady drone of ventilation systems, the occasional distant creak of old metal settling, the faint drip of water somewhere in the shadows. It was the kind of place that existed beneath the glamorous surface of Hollywood: functional, forgotten, and perfect for conversations no one wanted recorded. Finally, Serena broke the silenc

  • Billionaire Producer's Secret Wife   Chapter 133

    The call with Seraphina lasted less than a minute. It wasn’t nearly enough. Lucian stared at the phone in his hand for several long heartbeats after the line went dead, the screen’s cold glow casting sharp, unforgiving shadows across his face. The device felt heavier than it should have, as though it carried the weight of every unanswered question still hanging between them. Around him, the operations center continued its mechanical ballet with relentless efficiency — analysts murmuring urgently into headsets, fingers flying across keyboards, digital maps updating in real time with new search parameters that led nowhere. None of it mattered. The data flowed endlessly, the teams moved with practiced urgency, the machines hummed their indifferent song, but Serena remained invisible. A ghost in a city built on illusions. He called Aiden back. This time, Aiden answered on the first ring. “I thought we were finished,” Aiden said, his voice low and steady, carrying the quiet exhaustio

  • Billionaire Producer's Secret Wife   Chapter 132

    Isadora closed her eyes for a moment. Vivian had known. Not every detail. But the shape of it. “When they stop letting us play referee,” Vivian had warned months ago, “they’ll settle the score themselves.” We were late. The thought arrived quietly. Not dramatic. Not devastating. Simply… true. They had mistaken delay for prevention. They had spent years postponing an inevitable collision and congratulating themselves for keeping the peace. There had never been peace. Only distance. Distance looked remarkably peaceful until it collapsed. She opened her eyes. Lucian was staring at the surveillance wall again, his face illuminated by the cold glow. Thinking. Always thinking. She knew that look too well. He was cycling through names, assets, resources, governments, security firms, people who owed him favors that could never be repaid. She knew exactly who he wasn’t thinking about. Because Lucian still carried too much pride. Still believed this belonged to him alone. It didn’t. Not

  • Billionaire Producer's Secret Wife   Chapter 131

    Lucian stood motionless in the operations center on the top floor of Vale Tower, staring at the wall of surveillance feeds that stretched across the entire room like a digital altar to control. The first hour after Serena’s disappearance had been the worst. Not because there were no leads — there were too many. Every security team in Los Angeles had been mobilized. Every Vale resource had been redirected before the board even had time to object. Private jets were grounded. Private airports monitored. Production offices, hotels, safe houses — all of them turned inside out. Eli’s office was empty. His apartment had already been cleared with clinical efficiency. His digital footprint had vanished with a thoroughness that bordered on professional admiration. Lucian had built those protocols himself years ago. Someone had simply learned them better than he had. Someone inside. The realization settled over him quietly. Not with outrage. Not with disbelief. Just a simple, cold acknow

  • Billionaire Producer's Secret Wife   Chapter 130

    Serena surfaced slowly from the darkness. Consciousness did not return all at once. It arrived in fractured pieces, like shards of a broken mirror reflecting distorted images. First came the cold — a deep, insistent chill pressing against her wrists and the back of her neck. Then the dull, throbbing ache at the base of her skull, pulsing in time with her heartbeat. Then the faint, rhythmic hum of ventilation somewhere overhead, steady and mechanical, like the breathing of some indifferent machine. For several long seconds she kept her eyes closed, forcing herself to listen before she moved. People always underestimated silence. Silence carried information if you knew how to read it. She counted two distinct sets of breathing in the room. One slow and measured. Controlled. The other almost imperceptible — the kind of breathing that came from someone who had learned long ago how to remain invisible. Someone shifted a chair across concrete. The scrape was faint but unmistakable.

  • Billionaire Producer's Secret Wife   Chapter 66

    By noon, the internet had decided who Serena Rivera was.She watched it happen in real time, the way one watches a tide come in—helpless, clinical, faintly fascinated by the violence of it.She didn’t scroll. She didn’t need to. The headlines had weight now. They pressed against her ribs even with

    last updateLast Updated : 2026-03-29
  • Billionaire Producer's Secret Wife   Chapter 65

    The internet didn’t sleep.By the time Serena woke up, the headlines had already changed shape.Last night, she’d been the ingénue caught in the wrong orbit.This morning, she was a temptress with bad timing.> “Wolfe and Rivera: Midnight Drives or PR Diversions?”“Rivera’s Rise: The New Starlet Wh

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  • Billionaire Producer's Secret Wife   Chapter 60

    The city had a strange way of glittering when it bled. Lucian Vale had learned that years ago — how Hollywood never truly slept, it just changed the lighting when the sins became too loud. Now, the glow came not from red carpets or flashbulbs but from screens — hundreds of them — each one replay

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  • Billionaire Producer's Secret Wife   Chapter 62

    The morning arrived softer than it had any right to be.Sunlight was scattered over the balcony tiles of Fallon Crowne’s loft, a pale, washed gold that seemed like it belonged to another city—some quieter, slower Los Angeles that didn’t trade on blood and buzz. The espresso machine wheezed in the b

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