Great choice of title: "CEO Vampire's Hidden Bride" — it's catchy, mysterious, and hints at romance, power, and supernatural intrigue. Here's a suggested chapter list followed by a 1000-word first chapter draft to kickstart your Webnovel.
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📚 Chapter List for CEO Vampire's Hidden Bride
1. The Auction Bride
2. Bite of a Billionaire
3. A Contract Written in Blood
4. Rules of the Night
5. The Crimson Room
6. Secrets Behind the Glass Office
7. Thorns Beneath the Rose
8. The Midnight Gala
9. Marked by the CEO
10. Love, Lies, and Bloodlines
Rain poured over the city like a veil, blurring the neon signs and hiding the sins of the wealthy behind a curtain of darkness. Beneath one of the tallest skyscrapers in the business district, a young woman clutched her coat tighter as she stepped out of the cab. Her name was Arielle Voss, and tonight, she was selling herself—not out of desire, but out of desperation.
The doorman, dressed in a black tuxedo and red gloves, opened the doors without a word. Arielle stepped into a world she didn't belong to. Marble floors gleamed under golden chandeliers, and the scent of money and secrecy lingered in the air. This was no ordinary auction.
It was The Crimson Circle—an underground, invite-only event where the elite bid on people like property. But tonight's auction was special. It wasn't about models, singers, or socialites.
It was about brides.
Untraceable. Unquestionable. Bound by contract. And the winner? Hidden until the deal was sealed.
Arielle's heart pounded as she was led into a velvet-draped room where ten other girls waited, all wearing masks, all silent. No names. No pasts. Only one future—owned.
She hadn't come here willingly. Her father's debts had swallowed their entire legacy, and her younger brother's heart surgery was due in weeks. No bank would lend to a ruined name. But the Crimson Circle? They offered money upfront—millions—if she agreed to one rule:
"You'll marry the winner. You'll be his wife for one year. You will not ask who he is. You will not remove your mask unless instructed. And you will never speak of what happens behind closed doors."
The bidding began.
Behind the one-way glass, dark figures in suits raised numbered paddles. Arielle couldn't see their faces. Only feel the rising tension as her lot number—#7—flashed on the display.
"Lot Seven," the host announced. "Unclaimed. Untouched. Perfectly obedient. Starting bid: One million."
Hands rose. One million became two. Then five. Arielle swallowed hard. Her knees trembled, but she stood tall. Her dignity was the only armor she had left.
"Ten million," someone called.
A hush fell over the room.
The host's voice faltered. "Ten... Do I hear eleven?"
Silence.
"Sold!" The gavel fell. "To bidder #01."
Arielle's ears rang. Ten million. That wasn't a bid—that was a declaration. Bidder #01 wasn't here to play.
He came to own.
Later, in a black car with tinted windows, Arielle sat in silence. Her hands were bound only by white satin gloves. Her mask still on. The driver never spoke. She didn't know where they were going.
Finally, the car pulled up to a towering estate surrounded by a high iron gate. Gothic architecture. Red roses blooming in the rain. Gargoyles on the roof. It looked like something from a vampire movie.
Her thoughts were cut short when the door opened.
A tall man stood there, perfectly still, his umbrella shielding only part of his midnight-black suit. His face was partially shadowed, but his presence was undeniable—he radiated authority, danger, and something... inhuman.
"Arielle," he said smoothly, his voice like silk laced with steel. "Welcome to your new home."
She hesitated. "You're... him?"
"The one who paid ten million for a bride?" His lips curved into a half-smile. "Yes."
She didn't move. "What's your name?"
He leaned closer. "You may call me Lucien."
"Lucien… what?"
"That's all you need to know." His eyes glinted beneath the shadows. "The rest will come in time. If you survive."
Arielle felt a chill run down her spine. "Survive?"
He turned without answering. The doors creaked open behind him, revealing a mansion lit only by firelight and candle sconces.
Inside, the air was warm but carried a scent that made her pulse race—rose petals, aged wine, and something metallic.
Blood.
"You're afraid," he said suddenly, his back still to her.
"No," she lied.
He glanced over his shoulder. His eyes were glowing faintly red. "Good. Fear keeps things... interesting."
Hours later, she sat in a crimson silk robe, staring at the flickering flames in the fireplace of her new bedroom. A marriage certificate lay on the table beside her, signed in red ink. His name was still absent.
She was now legally his wife.
No wedding.
No vows.
Just a contract—and a signature that bled like fresh wounds.
Lucien hadn't returned since their brief encounter. But Arielle could feel his presence everywhere. In the way the shadows lingered. In the subtle movement of curtains with no wind. In the whisper of her own name, barely audible, yet haunting.
Then she heard it. A door opening.
She turned quickly. Nothing.
But a voice drifted through the darkness, low and commanding:
"You belong to me now, Arielle. Body. Blood. And soul."
Her breath caught.
She wasn't just a bride.
She was prey.
And her husband?
Not entirely human.