The Pop Queen's Ruthless Billionaire Fan

From the back cover

I was at the peak of my pop music career, breaking box office records while secretly enduring the nightmare of being my Boston family's forced bone marrow donor.

I thought my boyfriend and producer, Caleb, was my only safe haven.

That was until I saw the custom Rolex I bought him on the wrist of his new artist, Isla.

A quick investigation revealed he wasn't just cheating on me; he was siphoning millions from my accounts and forging my signature to steal my luxury endorsements.

To get rid of me without backlash, Caleb leaked a maliciously edited video to TMZ, framing me as a violent psycho.

The hashtag demanding my cancellation trended worldwide within minutes, and my sponsors started dropping me.

At an elite Malibu gala, Caleb paraded Isla around, playing the abused victim and threatening to blacklist me from the industry.

Isla even fake-cried and threw herself to the ground, accusing me of pushing her out of jealousy.

"If you throw a tantrum here, I will make sure you are blacklisted from every studio in this town."

I had given him my heart and my resources, only for him to try and drain me dry before tossing me to the wolves.

Did he really think I was just a fragile pop princess who would cry and beg for mercy?

With the unedited footage handed to me by a terrifying Wall Street billionaire who suddenly took an obsessive interest in me, I put on my blood-red couture gown.

I walked straight into that gala, kicked Caleb into the infinity pool, and threw the felony fraud lawsuit directly at his wet face.