Tag: R18+

  • Книга Плен его мести, Автор: Анна Бажанова

    Книга Плен его мести, Автор: Анна Бажанова

    👉 ЧИТАЙТЕ СЕЙЧАС

    Мне достаточно лет для того, чтобы понимать – куда выстлана дорога благими намерениями. Я родилась в семье, в которой противопоказано иметь доброе сердце, но с моим чувствительным органом уже ничего не поделать.
    Мой отец прослыл в местности жестоким и властным тираном, но только не по отношению к своим детям. В нашем доме часто слышны крики разных людей, которых страшно пытали прихвостни отца, но я всегда старалась держаться от этого всего в стороне… По крайней мере до того дня.
    Я решила спасти мужчину, закованного в цепи во тьме нашего подвала.
    “Лучше уходи отсюда, девочка. Таким, как ты, здесь не место” – сказал он мне вместо того, чтобы умолять о спасении. Его пустые печальные глаза сильно взбудоражили душу и я впервые пошла наперекор отцу – выпустив пленника из его подвала.
    Но благодарности я за это так и не дождалась. Если бы я только знала тогда, снимая цепи с измученных запястий, о том, что вскоре сама стану его пленницей, никогда бы не выпустила Дьявола из клетки. Взамен “спасибо” за спасение я получила следующие слова:
    “Я запятнаю то, что ему дорого, сорву твой нежный цветок и буду отправлять фото отчёт твоему отцу о каждой нашей проведённой ночи…”

    👉 ЧИТАЙТЕ СЕЙЧАС

    Книга Плен его мести Глава 1 1.

    – Кир, отца не видел? – спрашиваю брата, подловив его у самого выхода из дома. Он обернулся ко мне лицом и, хмуро глянув на меня сверху вниз, тяжело вздохнул.
    – Только не говори мне, что хочешь взять у него тачку? Слушай, Янка, может, давай вы сегодня дома потусите вместе с Дашкой? Нечего вам переться на нашу тусовку. Там будет… – брат запнулся, едва не ляпнув что-то очень интересное. – В общем, вам бы лучше там не появляться.
    – Ты, наверное, хотел сказать, что там будет мой бывший? – вскинула брови я, ехидно улыбаясь. Ну теперь я точно не могу не поехать на вечеринку. Дашка упрашивала меня об этой поездке, так как там был объект её воздыхания – Никита. Я не могла отказать подруге, а теперь мой интерес возрос в разы.
    – Прошу, Ян. Достаточно уже этого. Ваши скандалы и так у всех на слуху. Он уже сполна настрадался за тот случай и вполне заслужил прощение.
    – Прощение? – удивилась я, грозно сложив руки замком под грудью, выставив на обозрение родственничка свою упругую решимость с очень глубоким вырезом. – Эта скотина нагло спала со мной, попутно трахая Алёнку. Такое нельзя простить.
    – Мы ведь мужчины. У нас это заложено природой, и с этим ничего не поделать, – развёл руками в стороны брюнет и улыбнулся. То, что Кирилл был заядлым бабником, всем и так известно, поэтому девушки знают, на что идут, а вот подобных слухов об Андрее никогда не было. Его предательство для меня было ударом под дых, и не была бы я тогда Васильевой – спусти я ему всё так просто с рук.
    – Что заложено природой? – переспрашиваю, невинно хлопая глазками, а у самой злость заблендерилась с сарказмом, брызжа в разные стороны. – Я правильно поняла? У вас природой заложено быть скотинами? И обманывать двух девушек одновременно?
    Кирилл понял, что мою позицию ему не сломить, поэтому сказал спокойно, открывая дверь:
    – Отец в подвале. Три дня назад у него появилась новая игрушка. Хочешь – спустись к нему и попроси тачку.
    Я вздрогнула при упоминании того страшного места.
    – Стой! Кирилл, а может, ты…
    – Нет, сестрёнка. Я туда не пойду. Хочешь попасть на вечеринку сегодня – иди к нему сама. Только предупреждаю: зрелище не для слабонервных. Хотя… – брат засмеялся и бросил на ходу, – Ты у нас непробиваемая, поэтому спокойно вынесешь вид истерзанного человеческого тела.
    Дверь закрылась, а я так и осталась стоять на пороге. Брат ведь знает, как сильно я ненавижу то место и как мне страшно к нему приближаться. Что же делать? Дождаться отца в доме? Да он же может там всю ночь провести. Помню, как-то отца круто облапошил его сотрудник, украв несколько десятков тысяч долларов, так он тогда над ним безвылазно в подвале просидел двое суток. Ох и кричал же тогда тот бедолага. Как вспомню – так вздрогну.
    А ведь ещё разок покрутиться перед Андреем хочется. Ладно, пойду! Я не буду заходить далеко. Надеюсь только на то, чтобы там не было душераздирающих криков с мольбами о помощи. Этого мой стержень внутри, увы, стерпеть не сможет.
    Выхожу на улицу и медленно шагаю в сторону помещения, которое является настоящим Адом для врагов моего отца. Мне претили его методы воздействия на людей, но я старалась в это всё не вмешиваться.
    Дверь была открыта, а в конце каменной лестницы, ведущей вниз, виднелся тусклый свет фонаря. Звуков снизу никаких не было. Сглатываю и начинаю спускаться вниз. Коленки трясутся, по коже бегает холодок, а волоски поднимаются от неприятных морозных ощущений.
    – Пап? – произношу не очень громко, но ответом мне становится не голос родителя, а неприятный скрежет стальных цепей. Прохожу по узкому коридорчику к главному помещению этого места и заглядываю с опаской внутрь.
    Отец любил темноту. Как он всегда говорил, в черноте наши эмоции нахохлятся на пике, особенно негативные, поэтому предпочитал минимум освещения. Одна единственная неоновая лампа на потолке пускала свет на то, что находилось в центре. А точнее – на того, кто находился в центре.
    Там был мужчина, закованный в цепи. Он стоял на коленях с опущенной головой, а руки его были устремлены вверх, надёжно зафиксированные оковами. До половины он был раздет, отчего я рассмотрела кровавые дорожки по коже и прижала ладонь к губам от ужаса. Что же этот бедолага натворил, раз уж заслужил такое?
    – Девочка… – слышу хриплый голос в темноте, и голова незнакомца поднимается. На меня посмотрела сама тьма. Пустые тёмные глаза мужчины смотрели в саму душу, заставив меня отступить на шаг назад. – Тебе лучше уйти отсюда. Таким, как ты, здесь не место.
    Голова вновь опускается, а моё сердце подскакивает к горлу. Неужели он не будет просить о помощи? Так всегда делали другие, а этот словно смирился со своей судьбой.
    – Что вы сделали такого, чтобы заслужить гнев моего отца? – спрашиваю я чисто из праздного любопытства.
    По комнате распространился скрежет металлических цепей, а следом за ним – тихий и пробирающий до самих костей мужской смех.
    – Ты его дочь… – произнёс тот, не поднимая головы. – Не слышал о тебе. Думал, у него только сын. Твой отец, девочка, самый главный головорез этого города, и чтобы попасть в этот подвал, не обязательно что-то делать. Достаточно лишь не понравиться ему.
    – Глупости! – возмутилась я словам незнакомца. – Если вы здесь, значит, что-то натворили или украли. Он бы никогда невинного так не…
    Смех мужчины меня прервал. Его голова снова поднялась, и всё моё тело обдало жаром. Взгляд незнакомца был таким обречённым и сломленным, что не поверить в его слова было равносильно отказу в последней воле умирающему. Но ведь мой отец просто так не мог… Я же знаю, что на самом деле у него доброе сердце, просто работа вынуждает его быть строгим.
    – Хорошо быть маленькой глупой дурочкой, – слегка улыбнувшись, сказал пленник. – Можешь с лёгкостью поверить в любые сказки, которые тебе нашепчут родственники. В конце концов, ты его дочь… И, должно быть, тебя он растит по подобию своему – такой же бездушной тварью.
    Я закипела от гнева. Мои кулаки сжались, и зубы стиснулись до боли. Я хотела ответить на это оскорбление, но не успела сказать ни слова.
    – Яночка, деточка, – слышу голос папы позади и резко оборачиваюсь. – Что ты здесь делаешь?
    Отец шёл в компании своего помощника, держа в руках стопки документов.
    – Я искала тебя, – отвечаю я, украдкой поглядывая на незнакомца. Обычно на появление отца пленники реагировали истериками и воплями, но этот снова опустил голову и молчал.
    – Ты что-то хотела? – уточняет родитель, и я вспоминаю то, зачем вообще спустилась в этот подвал.
    – Хотела попросить твою машину. Мы с Дашкой на вечеринку к Златогорскому едем. Можно?
    Мне бросают ключ от отцовского «Мерседеса» и с улыбкой отвечают:
    – Конечно, в чём вопрос. Но только никакого алкоголя за рулём. Твоя машина до сих пор в ремонте…
    – Пап, – говорю я обиженно, – на моей машине в столб влетел пьяный Кир, а припоминаешь всё это ты почему-то мне.
    – Я напоминаю только потому, что не хочу повторения того же случая с тобой. Уж на шишках-то этого балбеса ты способна научиться.
    – Конечно. Спасибо за тачку, – радостно отвечаю я и сжимаю в руке ключ. Подхожу к родителю и, крепко его обняв, целую в щёку. – Я побежала. Меня Дашка заждалась.

    Книга Плен его мести Глава 2 2.

    Едва я набрала номер Дашки, как эта горная лань выскочила из дома и, громко цокая каблуками, неслась в сторону моей машины, активно махая руками. Должна признаться, что подруга сегодня серьёзно настроена охомутать Никиту – её внешний вид красноречиво об этом говорил. Из-под бессовестно коротенького платья виднелись чёрные чулки, шпильки на туфлях такие, что можно проткнуть ими человека насквозь, а на лице – самый настоящий боевой раскрас.
    – Юху! – радостно завопила девушка, запрыгнув в машину на сиденье рядом со мной. – Машина Степановича! Какой же кайф на ней ездить.
    – Тут ты права, но мне за неё могут надавать по заднице, если с малышкой отца что-то случится, – отвечаю я и завожу мотор. – Дашка, пристёгивайся.
    – Скучная ты, – фыркнула девушка, перекидывая через себя ремень безопасности.
    Не успела я отъехать от её дома, как она воодушевлённо начала рассказывать мне то, о чём я и так уже прекрасно знала:
    – Слушай, а там на вечеринке будет твой бывший. Прикинь – ещё и, по слухам, со своей новой. Говорят, его девушка – невинная сельская касаточка.
    – Даже так, – ухмыльнулась я, и пальцы крепче вцепились в руль. Как же быстро эта сволочь девок меняет, то! – Что ж, придётся предупредить его малышку о возможных последствиях отношений с Андреем.
    – Может, ну его, Ян? Пусть себе встречаются. Ты преследуешь Андрея как настоящая маньячка.
    – Пф, – фыркнула я. – А он, значит, весь из себя такой святой. Ладно уж. Это в последний раз. Скоро учёба начнётся – и мне будет не до него.
    Мы подъезжаем к дому Златогорского, лучшего друга моего брата, и ставим машину на парковке у самого края. Народу здесь уже столько, что не продохнуть. Входим внутрь, и нас встречает активный движ, в котором уже многие спотыкались из-за количества выпитого алкоголя.
    Я тотчас стала искать взглядом того, кто занимал все мои мысли, как вдруг кто-то подхватил меня за талию, подкравшись сзади, и поднял в воздух.
    – А вот и наша главная нарушительница спокойствия наконец прибыла! – громко говорит хозяин мероприятия и начинает меня кружить.
    – Савва! Перестань! Голова кружится! – крикнула я, и парень таки поставил меня на ноги.
    В своей обычной манере он прикоснулся к моей шее губами и провёл языком по коже.
    – Может, перепихнёмся, покуда твой брат не видит? – последовало отвратительное предложение, и я услышала, как застонала Дашка.
    – Да сдался ты ей сто лет. Бабник, – рявкнула девушка, и меня выпустили из крепких рук.
    Оборачиваюсь к Савве и вижу, как он мечет молнии в Дашу, а она – в него. Вот не любят эти двое друг друга, и никакие силы вселенной не заставят их подружиться. Златогорский хищно улыбнулся и, окинув девушку оценивающим взглядом, сказал:
    – Я сегодня проституток не вызывал. Кажется, одна отбилась от стайки и перепутала вечеринки.
    О боги! Ну вот, снова начинается. Дашка была всё ещё девственницей, и я прекрасно знала, для кого именно она хранит свой «цветочек». Подругу очень цепляли такие слова в свой адрес – особенно когда их произносил друг моего брата и по совместительству один из главных бабников нашего района.
    – Очень жаль, что не приглашали. Придётся тебе сегодня дрочить, Златогорский, ведь ни одна нормальная девчонка тебе не даст.
    – О как! – завёлся парень, потирая руки в предвкушении.
    Если я сейчас их не остановлю, будет настоящая катастрофа. Хватаю подругу за руку, но не успеваю оттащить её в сторону. С губ Саввы слетают следующие слова:
    – Как удачно ты сегодня подвернулась! Сколько возьмёшь за ночь, Дашка? Я готов сотку заплатить.
    Ох и прорвало Дашу после этого! Она сыпала в адрес Златогорского такими словами, что у меня уши в трубочку заворачивались. Мне с трудом удалось оттащить её в сторону, чтобы уберечь от мордобоя. Разок Савва её уже в своём бассейне искупал – навряд ли девушке это может понравиться снова.
    – Что ж вы как кошка с собакой, – застонала я, глядя на кипящую от ярости подругу.
    – Да потому что с ним невозможно иначе! Свинья похотливая этот Златогорский! – выплюнула девушка.
    Я смотрела на Дашу, но мой фокус неожиданно сместился на задний план. Там я увидела Андрея в компании его новой девушки. Как поняла, что это она? Парень обнимал её за талию и что-то шептал на ухо, иногда, словно невзначай, прикасаясь к её коже губами. Внутри меня вскипела ярость. Я вспомнила, как часто он так делал, и как сильно мне это нравилось. Присмотревшись к его новой пассии внимательнее, я сделала вывод: она моя полная противоположность. Светловолосая, маленького роста, нежная, с большими горящими глазами. Очень красивая. Интересно, он ей так же изменяет, как и мне однажды?
    – Яна, я отойду, – говорит мне Даша, и я, проследив за её взглядом, вижу объект её воздыхания.
    – Конечно. Удачи, Даш.
    – Она мне пригодится, – отвечает девушка и начинает идти в сторону небольшой группки парней.
    Моя цель была передо мной. Что ж, Андрюша, это моё выступление на бис – после которого я уйду со сцены твоего театра. Беру курс на парня и наслаждаюсь его испуганным выражением лица, когда тот, наконец, меня замечает. Подхожу ближе и нагло оттесняю его новую девушку, взяв его за руку.
    – Привет, Андрей, – говорю я, ярко улыбнувшись. Бросаю взгляд на девушку рядом и замечаю, как вытягивается её лицо от моей наглости. – Я так по тебе соскучилась. Моя киска нетронута и тоскует без твоего внимания. Может, мы могли бы встретиться в укромном местечке и тесно пообщаться?
    Глаза парня расширяются от шока. Ещё бы – я ведь раньше никогда в таком тоне с ним не разговаривала.
    – Что ты творишь? – прошипел он, и я было хотела ответить, как вдруг вмешалась его подружка:
    – А ты ничего не попутала?! – рявкнула она, грозно сверкая своими глазёнками. А ничего так, хорошую девчонку нашёл. Жаль будет, если с ней повторится та же история. – Мы с Андреем вообще-то встречаемся!
    – Ну и что? Мы с ним тоже недавно встречались, но это не мешало ему трахать других девчонок. Правда, милый? – улыбаюсь и смотрю на бывшего. Он даже побледнел от моих слов – и мне это только в радость.
    – Что ты несёшь?! Он мне не станет изменять, потому что любит! – продолжала кричать девушка, глядя на своего бойфренда. – Скажи ей что-нибудь, Андрей! Не молчи!
    – А мне он тоже говорил, что любит. Но потом я застала его за тем, как он тыкал свой член в одну из моих знакомых прямо вот в этом доме, – говорю я, указав пальцем на дом Златогорского.
    Я раскрываю рот, чтобы добавить ещё пару интересных подробностей того случая, но ничего не успеваю вымолвить – Андрей хватает меня за руку и тянет в сторону от толпы. Отойдя на достаточное расстояние, он останавливается и зло произносит:
    – Чего ты от меня хочешь? Сколько уже можно? Мы с тобой давно расстались!
    – Мы не расстались, – поправляю я. – Я тебя бросила, потому что ты мне изменял.
    – И что с того?! – спросил он и схватился за голову. – Чёрт! Говорили же мне ребята с тобой не связываться, а я им не верил. Походу, правы они были! Ты такая же бездушная и бессердечная тварь, как и твой отец, замучивший столько народу.
    – Что?! – злобно прошипела я. – Ты реально валишь на меня вину за то, что не способен держать при себе член, когда встречаешься с одной девушкой?! Серьёзно?! Я была верна тебе!
    – Да пошла ты, Васильева! Трахать тебя было классно, но оно того не стоило!

    Книга Плен его мести Глава 3 3.

    Пощечина была звонкой и мощной. Я врезала этому гаду так сильно, что тот пошатнулся. На этот раз мой удар поставил жирную точку в отношениях с этим ублюдком.
    Круто разворачиваюсь на каблуках и ухожу. Мой путь пролегает мимо новой девушки Андрея, которая видела со стороны наши разборки от начала до конца. Я останавливаюсь рядом с ней и произношу:
    – Я говорила всё то не всерьёз. Мне твой Андрей сто лет в обед не сдался. Мой тебе совет: не нужно в него влюбляться, ведь его измены будут больно резать.
    – Обойдусь без советов. У меня есть своя голова на плечах, – прошипела та мне в ответ, и я, улыбнувшись, продолжила шагать вперёд.
    Присутствовать на этой вечеринке желания больше не было, так как настроение напрочь испорчено. Нахожу взглядом Дашу и подхожу к девушке, которая уже переместилась в компанию весёлых девчонок.
    – Даш, я домой. Ты со мной? – спрашиваю девушку, и ответ вижу в её весёлых глазах.
    – Я останусь. Меня потом девчонки подвезут. А ты почему так быстро? На тебя это не похоже, – отвечает подруга.
    – Настроения нет. Завтра встретимся.
    Прощаюсь с Дашкой и бегу в сторону ворот. Сажусь за руль и резко трогаюсь с места. Настроение было гнать на огромной скорости, но я не настолько глупа, чтобы давать волю своим эмоциям – это плохо может закончиться.
    Обалдеть можно! Меня впервые назвали бездушной и бессердечной. Я была верной подругой для Даши и никогда не выдавала её секретов, примерной дочерью и ни разу не задумывалась над тем, чтобы изменить своему парню. Как этот подонок ловко всё перекинул на меня!
    До дома добралась поздно и сразу побежала в комнату. После прохладного душа надела мамино старое платье, которое просто обожала, и завалилась в постель. Каталась по поверхности кровати очень долго. Сперва мысли были бурные и напоминали лавину, когда я думала об Андрее, но потом в голову неожиданно залез тот мужчина из подвала. Я перестала метаться и осталась лежать на спине, глядя на потолок собственной комнаты.
    Неужели я действительно со стороны кажусь такой жестокой, а отец за спиной творит страшные вещи?! Мне не хотелось об этом думать, но мысль была подобна назойливой мухе, которую было не прогнать. Только прихлопнуть ладошкой, чтобы перестала докучать.
    Встаю с кровати и выхожу из комнаты. Охрана около подвала обычно не стоит, так как пленники внизу всегда закованы в цепи. Вот сейчас спущусь туда и узнаю, почему того человека там держат. По пути захватила бутылку воды, так как наверняка тому бедолаге очень хотелось пить.
    Подхожу к подвалу и открываю дверь. Включаю на телефоне фонарик и начинаю спускаться вниз. Чтобы было лучше видно в основном помещении, там решила зажечь неоновую лампу.
    Незнакомец был на месте всё в той же позе.
    – Эй! – окликнула я его, но ответа не последовало.
    Может, он там уже ноги двинул от нанесённых ран? От этой мысли моё горло сжало тисками. Подхожу к мужчине и опускаюсь рядом с ним. Не знаю, как проверить, дышит он или нет. Решаю нащупать пульс на шее и аккуратно прикасаюсь пальцами к его липкой, потной коже. На ощупь она была словно бархат, и как жаль мне было видеть на этом, идеально сложенном теле, столько ранений. Под подушечками пальцев нащупываю пульс и понимаю, что человек жив.
    Приподнимаю его голову ладонями и рассматриваю лицо. Густая щетина сильно отросла, и сейчас борода потеряла свой ухоженный вид, хотя ранее за ней точно ухаживали. Густые брови были расслаблены, а ресницы под ними слегка подрагивали.
    – Эй, мужик, – говорю не очень громко, чтобы не испугать, и он таки открывает глаза. Делает он это резко, поэтому я от неожиданности выпускаю его голову из рук, и она падает в прежнее положение. Мужчина шипит от боли, и я чувствую за это вину:
    – Простите. Я не хотела сделать больно.
    – Что ты здесь делаешь? – спрашивает он, тяжело дыша и поднимает на меня взгляд.
    – Пить хотите? – решила в первую очередь спросить. Ответа не получила и посчитала это немым согласием. Открываю бутылку воды и подношу к мужским губам. Незнакомец начинает жадно пить и опустошает половину содержимого пластикового сосуда. Немного жидкости стекает по его бороде, поэтому я принимаюсь вытирать её подолом платья, даже не задумавшись о том, что испорчу дорогую сердцу вещь. Живой блеск промелькнул в тёмных глазах пленника. Видимо, он слишком сильно был изнеможён, именно поэтому выглядел таким обречённым. Решаю вернуться к причине своего визита и спрашиваю:
    – Почему вы здесь? За что мой отец вас сюда посадил?
    Улыбка вытягивает дугой пухлые губы, и незнакомец отвечает:
    – Я обошёл его на рынке и не дал ухватить несколько выгодных контрактов. А ещё… он хочет купить у меня то, что я не хочу продавать.
    – Это правда всё? – удивилась я. – То есть вы у него ничего не крали, принадлежащего ему? И не причиняли зла?
    – Ты не веришь в то, что я здесь могу находиться чисто из прихоти твоего отца? Боюсь, я тебя разочарую, девочка. Васильев запер меня здесь для того, чтобы на время вывести из игры. Моя компания сейчас терпит убытки из-за моего отсутствия, и твой отец таким образом хочет вернуть себе партнёров.
    – Вы говорите мне правду? – вновь спрашиваю, как маленькая девочка. Будто он признается, что лжёт. Ха! Едва ли!
    – Можешь мне не верить. Это неважно. Он твой отец, и ты поверишь во всё, что он тебе скажет.
    Последние слова мужчины неприятно задели мою совесть. С одной стороны, он был прав, а с другой – я хотела доказать ему обратное. Поднимаюсь на ноги и выхожу из этой комнаты. В коридоре на крючке висели ключи от кандалов, и я взяла их. Отец особо не переживал о том, что пленники могут бежать – до ключа им было не добраться. Да и охрана у нас имелась, а также камеры видеонаблюдения. Чувствую, влетит мне от предка за это здорово, но я хочу поступить правильно. Если этот мужчина говорит правду – отец держит его здесь ни за что, и это меня здорово удручает. Конечно же, я не поверила незнакомцу до конца, но отчего-то его взгляд мне подсказывал, что он не лжёт.
    Возвращаюсь к мужчине и принимаюсь ликвидировать замки. Сперва упала одна цепь, и тогда же прозвучал вопрос:
    – Что ты делаешь?
    – Я вас отпускаю, – отвечаю на полном серьёзе и снимаю вторую цепь. Выбегаю в коридор и вешаю ключ обратно. Пленник, упираясь руками в пол, пытался подняться на ноги, но это давалось ему с трудом. Я подошла к нему и, потянув его за руку на себя, позволила опереться о мои плечи. – Я покажу, как незаметно выйти за территорию дома. Там есть камеры и охрана.
    – Зачем ты мне помогаешь? – спрашивает он.
    – Потому что считаю это правильным, – отвечаю, а потом, улыбнувшись, спрашиваю, – Одного понять не могу: вы выбраться отсюда не хотите?
    – Хочу.
    – Но вы ни разу не молили вас отсюда отпустить.
    – Я не умоляю врагов о пощаде, – хмыкнул тот, и мы оказались в коридоре.
    Я выключила свет, чтобы нас было не так видно, и помогла незнакомцу выбраться на улицу. Я провела его по закоулкам, которые сама ранее использовала, чтобы сбегать на тусовки из дома. Мы подошли к забору, в котором должна быть дыра, и я убрала в сторону ветки куста.
    – Вам сюда. Дорога недалеко отсюда. Поймаете попутку и доберётесь до дома, – говорю и жду от незнакомца слова благодарности, но вместо них он произносит:
    – До встречи.
    И тень мужчины исчезает в дыре.
    До какой ещё встречи? Я надеюсь на то, что наши пути больше не пересекутся, ведь навряд ли я смогу ещё раз помочь ему сбежать. Теперь мне предстояло принять на себя гнев отца, а он легко догадается о том, кто выпустил пленника…

    👉 ПРОДОЛЖИТЬ ЧТЕНИЕ

  • Книга Замена, Автор: Calder Wyck

    Книга Замена, Автор: Calder Wyck

    👉 ЧИТАЙТЕ СЕЙЧАС

    Милена посвятила Игорю три года своей жизни, но он бросил её, как только вернулась его первая любовь. Узнав, что она была для него всего лишь заменой, девушка ушла без единого сожаления.

    Все ожидали, что её жизнь пойдёт под откос, но она удивила весь мир своими способностями.

    Легендарный наставник, стоявший за успехами бесчисленных гениев, женщина, которой восхищалась мировая элита, та, чьего расположения искали даже самые влиятельные правители, – она была для Игоря недосягаема.

    Пока Игорь отчаянно умолял о втором шансе, Милена вышла замуж за его главного соперника – Дмитрия, оставив бывшего мужа бесконечно сожалеть о своим проступках.

    Милена закатила глаза и ответила: «Прошу тебя, хватит себе льстить. Единственный, с кем я хочу провести остаток жизни, – это Дмитрий!»

    Игорь прижал её к стене, в его глазах пылала ревность: «Милена, ты делаешь это только для того, чтобы задеть меня. Признай, я тебе всё ещё небезразличен».

    👉 ЧИТАЙТЕ СЕЙЧАС

    Книга Замена Глава 1

    Рабочий день почти закончился, когда Милена Рожкова с чашкой кофе в руке замерла у кабинета генерального директора.

    Дверь была приоткрыта, и в узкую щель она увидела, как её муж обнимает какую-то женщину.

    Чашка с кофе выскользнула из рук Милены. Она с грохотом упала на пол и разлетелась на осколки.

    В кабинете оба обернулись на шум. На одно застывшее мгновение всё, казалось, замерло.

    Мгновение спустя Игорь, её муж, медленно выпрямился. На его лице не было и тени вины, лишь лёгкое раздражение человека, чей уединённый момент был нарушен.

    Повернувшись к Маргарите Леонтьевой, своей любовнице, он вздохнул без всякого упрёка: «Я же говорил тебе запереть дверь».

    «Я забыла, – ответила Маргарита милым, кокетливым тоном. Она надула губки и неторопливо поправила бретельку платья. Её взгляд скользнул к Милене, и на губах появилась слабая улыбка. – Так это ты Милена. Ты и вправду на меня похожа».

    Эти слова ранили глубоко.

    Ледяной холод пронзил её, пока она не сводила глаз с Игоря: «Кто она?»

    Тот посмотрел на неё так, будто она была всего лишь сотрудницей, которая по ошибке зашла не в тот кабинет.

    Он не ответил – достал из ящика стола документы о разводе, бросил их на стол и посмотрел на неё с бесстрастным выражением: «Как раз вовремя. Подпиши их».

    Проигнорировав документы, Милена упрямо повторила: «Кто она?»

    «Маргарита Леонтьева. Девушка, которую я давно люблю. В некотором смысле, из-за неё ты и стала моей женой. Если бы ты не была на неё похожа и не понравилась моей бабушке, то никогда бы не вошла в семью Рожковых. Тебе следует быть ей благодарной».

    Пробирающий до костей холод охватил Милену, проникая в каждую клеточку её тела.

    Три года холода и безразличия не ранили так сильно, как эти несколько слов. Всё, что она делала – её терпение, её преданность, её бесконечные усилия – было всего лишь долгом дублёрши.

    Ногти глубоко впились ей в ладони, а с губ сорвался горький смешок: «Игорь, ты отвратителен».

    Маргарита рассеянно накручивала локон на палец, её голос был мягким и нежным: «Милена, я понимаю, что ты чувствуешь, но любовь нельзя навязать. Если бы недоразумение не разлучило нас с Игорем тогда, у тебя бы никогда не было шанса выйти за него замуж».

    «Не трать на неё время», – с явным нетерпением сказал Игорь.

    Под ярким светом его красивые черты лица казались холоднее, чем когда-либо. Нескрываемое презрение в его глазах ранило сильнее любых слов.

    Милена снова холодно рассмеялась. Так вот в чём правда – он ненавидел её с самого начала.

    А ведь она и действительно верила, что, приложив достаточно усилий, сможет завоевать его сердце – что настойчивость способна растопить даже такого холодного человека, как он.

    Увидев, что она молчит, Игорь пододвинул документы о разводе поближе: «Будь умницей. Подпиши их».

    Милена опустила взгляд на соглашение: Игорь уже подписал его, его подпись была торопливой и небрежной. С самого начала этот брак для него абсолютно ничего не значил.

    Её глаза пробежались по условиям, и всё её тело напряглось.

    Всё имущество и все акции оставались у Игоря. Она не получала ровным счётом ничего.

    Девушка и представить не могла, что он может быть таким безжалостным.

    Слова, тихие и дрожащие от гнева, просочились сквозь стиснутые зубы: «Ты оставляешь меня ни с чем?»

    «С твоим положением, войти в семью Рожковых и пробыть три года моей женой – это уже величайшая честь, на которую ты могла надеяться. Так что не будь неблагодарной».

    Насмешливая улыбка тронула губы Милены. Компания «Золотой Ключ» давно бы рухнула без неё, а он одним пренебрежительным предложением перечеркнул все её заслуги.

    Если он решил уничтожить всё, что у неё было, то она позаботится о том, чтобы он заплатил не менее дорогую цену.

    Милена схватила обеими руками документы о разводе и разорвала их ровно посередине.

    Резкий звук рвущейся бумаги эхом разнёсся по кабинету, а на пол полетели обрывки страниц.

    Выражения лиц парочки мгновенно изменились. Игорь нахмурился, его взгляд потемнел: «Милена, ты с ума сошла?»

    Голос Милены, холодный и решительный, прорезал тишину: «Хочешь развестись со мной, чтобы жениться на своей любовнице? Хорошо. Но не надейся, что я уйду с пустыми руками. Предложи мне справедливое соглашение. Иначе она так и останется всего лишь любовницей!»

    Игорь рявкнул: «Милена, ты…»

    Не успел он закончить, как Милена уже развернулась и ушла. Дверь кабинета захлопнулась за её спиной, заглушив яростные слова, которые он собирался выкрикнуть.

    Книга Замена Глава 2

    Как только Милена вышла из кабинета, она подала заявление об увольнении.

    Почти сразу же, словно по команде, у неё зазвонил телефон. Увидев имя на экране, она ответила.

    В трубке раздался весёлый голос её лучшей подруги, Полины: «Милена, сегодня же торжественное открытие “Бархата”! Ты же хозяйка! Обязана там быть! Только не говори, что ты до сих пор вкалываешь сверхурочно на своего мужа, да ещё и бесплатно!»

    Только тогда до неё дошла суровая реальность: «Больше нет, – ответила она. – Я развожусь».

    Полина восторженно взвизгнула: «Наконец-то! Я так долго этого ждала! Я же тебе говорила, что от Игоря одни неприятности. Ты ещё в офисе, да? Оставайся там. Я сейчас пришлю за тобой машину!»

    Милена тихо согласилась и села ждать на ступеньках у входа.

    Рабочий день подходил к концу, и сотрудники потоком выходили из здания компании «Золотой Ключ», направляясь по домам.

    Многие из них узнали Милену. Слухи о её увольнении уже начали распространяться, и за её спиной тут же послышался шёпот.

    «Слышали? Милена уволилась!»

    «Серьёзно? Почему? Разве она не была правой рукой генерального директора? Они что, поссорились?»

    «Я слышал, у них ещё и роман был… ну, вы знаете. А теперь, когда он нашёл себе новую подружку, держу пари, он её просто вышвырнул».

    «Значит, он её бросил. Какое убожество».

    В тот самый момент, когда сплетни достигли своего апогея, на площадь с рёвом выехали три красных спорткара. Машины выполнили идеально синхронный дрифт и безупречно остановились прямо перед Миленой.

    Двери открылись одновременно. Из машин вышла шеренга высоких, элегантно одетых шофёров. Они как один поклонились и хором произнесли: «Госпожа Дёмина, ваша машина подана».

    Милена удивлённо замерла. Это и есть те люди, которых прислала Полина?

    Толпа онемела от столь экстравагантного зрелища, и по площади прокатились изумлённые вздохи.

    Не изменившись в лице, Милена изящно занесла свои длинные ноги в салон одной из машин и устроилась внутри, оставив позади бесчисленные завистливые взгляды.

    Полчаса спустя в «Бархате» вовсю гремела музыка, а танцпол был переполнен людьми, двигавшимися в такт оглушительному ритму.

    Полина в сногсшибательном тёмно-синем платье с открытой спиной подошла её поприветствовать.

    «А вот и ты! – стоя у барной стойки, Полина откупорила бутылку. – И поздравляю с тем, что ты наконец-то взялась за ум!»

    Милена уже переоделась в огненно-красное платье, которое идеально подчёркивало её сногсшибательные изгибы. Её макияж был ярким и безупречным – разительный контраст с её обычным скромным образом, – и она была так пленительна, что приковывала к себе все взгляды в зале.

    Она подняла бокал: «Ты права. Я слишком много времени потратила на глупости. Пора проснуться».

    Она в мельчайших подробностях пересказала всё, что произошло в офисе.

    К тому времени, как Милена закончила, на лбу у Полины вздулась и запульсировала жилка: «Мало того, что он тебя предал, так он ещё и рассчитывает, что ты уйдёшь ни с чем? Он об этом пожалеет. Я найду тебе нового парня! Гораздо лучше!»

    Воспоминание о предательстве Игоря промелькнуло в сознании Милены. Слегка вздернув подбородок, она лениво улыбнулась: «Хорошо. Найди мне кого-нибудь».

    Не говоря больше ни слова, Полина поспешила прочь.

    Милена снова принялась потягивать свой напиток, но мгновение спустя ей на плечо сзади легла чья-то рука.

    Проследив взглядом от руки вверх, она увидела перед собой лысеющего мужчину с избыточным весом.

    Он без тени смущения окинул её оценивающим взглядом: «Эй, красотка. Не хочешь потанцевать? Я деньгами не дорожу – обещаю, не пожалеешь».

    Взгляд Милены стал ледяным.

    Книга Замена Глава 3

    Наверху, в отдельной гостиной, во главе стола сидел Игорь. Одетый в элегантный, идеально сидящий костюм, он небрежно перелистывал лежавший перед ним контракт.

    Сидевший рядом с ним Валерий, глава компании «Сияние», едва скрывал своё волнение: «Господин Рожков, могу вас заверить, что “Сияние” предлагает лучшие ресурсы и условия контракта в индустрии. Если госпожа Леонтьева подпишет с нами контракт, мы сделаем из неё суперзвезду».

    Выражение лица Игоря оставалось непроницаемым. Маргарита окончила театральную школу, и актёрская карьера всегда была её мечтой.

    Раз уж она этого хотела, он был не против позволить ей испытать удачу в индустрии развлечений. Для него это не составляло никакого труда.

    В этот момент тишину гостиной нарушил пронзительный крик, донёсшийся из бара внизу.

    Подобные инциденты не были редкостью в барах, и Игорь не собирался вмешиваться.

    Затем Валерий вдруг выпалил: «Это не госпожа Леонтьева?»

    Игорь нахмурился, уверенный, что это невозможно – Маргарита должна была быть дома.

    Проследив взглядом за источником шума, он заметил женщину, чья фигура поразительно напоминала Маргариту.

    На ней было красное платье со струящейся бахромой, а её длинные волосы ниспадали свободными локонами. Прямо сейчас она явно отчитывала стоявшего перед ней мужчину.

    Отряхнув руки, она холодно бросила: «Не трогай меня».

    Когда она обернулась, стало полностью видно её потрясающе красивое лицо. Глаза Игоря расширились от удивления.

    Это, без сомнения, была Милена.

    Валерий недоверчиво смотрел на происходящее: «Я и не подозревал, что госпожа Леонтьева так умеет драться».

    «Это не Маргарита», – холодно, с явным раздражением в голосе, произнёс Игорь.

    Валерий застыл от смущения. Он встречался с Маргаритой всего несколько раз, и сходство между двумя женщинами было поразительным.

    Но, присмотревшись, он понял, что они не совсем одинаковы. Что-то в них было разное.

    У Милены были более резкие, притягательные черты лица и дерзкая острота, которой у Маргариты просто не было.

    Приятели мужчины подбежали и помогли ему подняться на ноги.

    «Ты хоть знаешь, на кого напала?»

    Мужчины быстро окружили Милену.

    Валерий ахнул: «Они из “Чёрных тигров”. Она что, ввязалась с ними в драку? У неё серьёзные неприятности».

    Лицо Игоря потемнело. Без колебаний он оттолкнул стул и встал.

    Признавал он это или нет, но Милена всё ещё была его женой. Любой, кто посмел бы поднять на неё руку, открыто проявлял к нему неуважение.

    В этот момент позади них раздался яростный голос Полины: «Стоять! Вы решитесь тронуть её? Вы что, все с ума сошли?»

    Музыка тут же смолкла. Появился отряд телохранителей, который растолкал толпу и разорвал кольцо вокруг Милены.

    Полина прошла сквозь толпу и, тут же осмотрев Милену с головы до ног, спросила: «Ты в порядке?»

    Зрители начали быстро перешёптываться: «Это же Полина Минаева, да?»

    Игорь застыл на месте, на его лице промелькнуло неподдельное удивление. С каких это пор Милена связана с семьёй Минаевых?

    Мужчина, который мгновение назад был ещё на взводе, в тот же миг, как услышал фамилию «Минаева», растерял всю свою пьяную надменность.

    Семья Минаевых была одной из самых престижных династий города со старыми деньгами, настолько влиятельной, что мало кто осмеливался их провоцировать. Сама Полина славилась своим вспыльчивым характером и тем, что с ней лучше не связываться, а «Бархат» был её территорией.

    «Госпожа Минаева! – у мужчины подкосились колени, а его злобное выражение лица мгновенно сменилось отчаянной, заискивающей улыбкой. – Это всё недоразумение! Огромное недоразумение! Я не знал, что она ваша подруга!»

    Глаза Полины были холодны как лёд: «Ты хамил моей подруге в моём баре и думаешь, что пара слов всё уладит?»

    Затем она повернулась к Милене, молча предоставляя ей право решать.

    Мужчина, который мгновение назад был так высокомерен, теперь, обливаясь холодным потом, снова и снова кланялся Милене: «Госпожа, я искренне прошу прощения! Я не знал, кто вы. Пожалуйста, сжальтесь!»

    Знай он, что за ней стоит такая мощная поддержка, он бы никогда не осмелился к ней подойти.

    Милена посмотрела на него с полным безразличием. Отпустить его – значит позволить ему найти новые жертвы.

    Её голос был спокойным и абсолютно безжалостным: «Разберитесь с ними».

    По её команде телохранители утащили всю компанию. Мужчина даже не осмелился вскрикнуть; его лицо, с которого сошли все краски, исказилось от отчаяния. Его беззаботной жизни явно пришёл конец.

    Когда всё разрешилось, музыка в «Бархате» постепенно возобновилась. Толпа медленно рассеялась, хотя бесчисленные любопытные и удивлённые взгляды продолжали следовать за Миленой.

    В конце концов, любой, кого лично защищает Полина, очевидно, был далеко не обычным человеком.

    И всё же за каждым моментом этой сцены наблюдали из ВИП-ложи на верхнем этаже. Мужчина сидел, закинув ногу на ногу, его руки небрежно лежали на колене, излучая непринуждённую властность.

    Слегка покачивая янтарный напиток в своём бокале, он тихо усмехнулся: «Госпожа Рожкова… она гораздо интереснее, чем я ожидал».

    👉 ПРОДОЛЖИТЬ ЧТЕНИЕ

  • Bride by Chance novel by Delight Write

    Bride by Chance novel by Delight Write

    👉 READ NOW

    On the day of her arranged wedding, Isabella Torres flees the altar, desperate to escape a loveless union her influential family is forcing upon her. Rumors say her groom, the powerful CEO of a multinational empire is a cruel, arrogant man with no capacity for love.

    Running through the streets in her bridal gown, Isabella throws herself into the car of a man she believes is a simple driver. In truth, he is Sebastián Alvarez, the very CEO she is running from abandoned at his own wedding only hours earlier. Hiding behind his second name, Sebastián listens as Isabella curses the man she believes destroyed her life. Instead of revealing the truth, he makes her a startling offer.

    Their scandalous union ignites outrage among both families. Enemies whisper, plots unfold, and secrets deepen. Isabella struggles to reconcile the tender, protective man she is falling for with the arrogant CEO she swore she would never love. Sebastián, torn between pride and passion, must prove his heart before his hidden identity destroys their fragile bond.

    In a world of betrayal, deception, and burning desire, their marriage of convenience becomes a dangerous game of love and destiny. What began as an accident may turn into the greatest love story of their lives.

    👉 READ NOW

    Bride by Chance novel Chapter 1

    It was her wedding day.

    The Torres house was filled with noise and frenzy. The smell of stew drifted from the kitchen, neighbors spilled into the compound, and borrowed plastic chairs clattered against one another as boys arranged them under the tent. From the outside, it looked like a celebration. From the inside, it felt like a prison.

    Isabella stood in her tiny bedroom, pressed against the wall as if the plaster itself might open and swallow her whole. Her chest rose and fell with frantic breaths, and the wedding gown which was a stiff lace and heavy satin felt more like a shroud than a dress. Her fingers itched to tear it off, but there was no time.

    Her father’s voice thundered from the living room.

    “Where is she? Bring her out! The priest has been waiting for hours!”

    Her mother’s sharp reply followed. “Isabella! Enough foolishness. Do you know what this marriage means for us?”

    Yes, she knew. It meant money. It meant her father’s debts would be wiped clean, her brothers would return to school, her mother would finally have respect in the neighborhood. It meant her freedom, her dreams, her life traded like goods in the market.

    For a man she had never seen.

    Sebastián Álvarez. His name carried weight like a curse. The CEO of Velasco Holdings, rumored to be older, proud, untouchable. Some said he had ruined men with a flick of his wrist. Others said he was cold as steel, incapable of kindness. To Isabella, it didn’t matter what the rumors said. He could be kind or cruel, young or old. The truth was the same: he wasn’t her choice.

    The doorknob rattled, her mother’s hand beating against the wood. “Isabella, open this door!”

    Her heart slammed against her ribs. If she didn’t move now, they would drag her out and force her to the altar like a goat tied for sacrifice.

    Her decision was made.

    She grabbed her small backpack, already hidden beneath the bed stuffed with nothing more than a water bottle, an old sweater, and a little money she had managed to save. With shaking hands, she shoved the window open. The wooden frame groaned in protest. The lace veil snagged on a nail and ripped, but she didn’t care.

    The cold morning air slapped her face as she pushed herself through. Her bare feet hit the earth.

    “Isabella!” her mother screamed as the door burst open behind her.

    But Isabella was already running.

    The gown tangled around her legs, her veil caught on a branch, her knees burned as she stumbled over stones. Still, she didn’t stop. She ran past children pointing and laughing, past neighbors gasping at the sight of a bride fleeing through the street. The sound of voices rose behind her-shouts, calls, curses.

    “Catch her!”

    “Don’t let her go!”

    But Isabella’s fear was stronger than their reach. She tore through alleys, her lungs aching, her throat raw, her vision blurred with tears.

    She didn’t know how long she ran, only that her legs screamed in protest and her body felt close to collapsing. She turned onto a wide avenue, and cars roared past, horns blaring as she darted across recklessly.

    Then she saw a sleek black car, parked at the corner with the engine humming softly.

    Without thinking, she yanked the back door open and flung herself inside. The smell of leather and cologne filled her nose. She slammed the door shut behind her, heart hammering.

    “Please!” she gasped, clutching the seat. “Drive. Just-just drive!”

    The man in the front seat turned his head.

    For a moment, Isabella froze. He wasn’t what she expected. Not scruffy, not ordinary. His suit was immaculate despite the loosened tie, his watch gleamed, and his eyes-dark, unreadable-stared at her in stunned silence. Too polished, too perfect to be just a driver.

    But desperation drowned her suspicion.

    “I’ll pay you,” she blurted, her voice trembling. “Any amount. Just take me far away from here. Please.”

    He didn’t answer immediately. His gaze swept over her-her wild eyes, the torn veil, the trembling hands clutching the gown. Something flickered in his expression, but it was gone before she could name it.

    “I…” he started to speak but stopped almost immediately.

    At last, without a word, he shifted the gear and pulled the car away from the curb.

    Relief flooded her body, and she sagged against the seat. The dress pooled around her like stormclouds, heavy and suffocating. For the first time that morning, she felt a breath of freedom.

    But his voice cut through the silence. Low, calm, steady. “Who are you running from?”

    Her laugh came out bitter, and broken.

    “My family. They want to marry me off. Today-right now-I was supposed to be Sebastián Álvarez’s bride.” She spat the name like poison. “They say he’s arrogant, merciless. I’d rather die than marry him.”

    His fingers tightened slightly around the wheel. Still, he said nothing.

    Isabella turned her face toward the window, tears streaking her cheeks.

    “Men like him think they can buy everything. Wives. Loyalty. Even love. But no money in this world can buy me.”

    The car was silent except for the hum of the engine. She wiped her eyes and glanced at him again, uneasy with his quietness.

    Bride by Chance novel Chapter 2

    The hum of the car was the only sound for a long while. Isabella sat stiff in the backseat, her fingers twisting the veil that had torn during her escape. At first, relief had washed over her. She had gotten away. She was free. But now, staring out at the streets flashing past, the truth dawned on her.

    She had nowhere to go.

    No relative she could run to, no friend bold enough to hide her. If her parents caught her, they would drag her back, bind her wrists if they had to, and throw her before the priest.

    Her throat tightened. Slowly, she leaned forward. “Gabriel?”

    His eyes met hers in the rearview mirror. Calm, unreadable.

    “Where are you taking me?” she asked, her voice trembling.

    The question made her blood run cold. She hadn’t thought this through. She had jumped into a stranger’s car without a plan. Now her hands shook with the weight of that mistake.

    “Anywhere you want, ma’am,” he said, calmly.

    Her voice broke as she begged, “Please… take me to the cheapest hotel. Somewhere far from here. Somewhere they won’t think to look for me.”

    He gave a small nod, not asking further questions. Relief loosened her chest, though it was short-lived.

    As the car turned, Isabella studied him again. The way his suit sat perfectly on broad shoulders, the way his hands gripped the wheel with quiet control. He didn’t look like any Bolt driver she’d ever seen.

    “You know,” she said softly, “you look too good to be a driver.”

    For the first time since she met him, his lips curved. Not a full smile, but close.

    “Thank you for the compliment.”

    She blinked, surprised at his answer. Most men she knew would have laughed or boasted. But before she could say more, he added, almost casually, “My bride abandoned me this morning. Left me standing at the altar.”

    Her jaw dropped. “What?”

    The corner of his mouth twitched again. “Hard to believe, I know.”

    Isabella let out an incredulous laugh. “Impossible. What kind of foolish girl would abandon a hardworking, decent man like you?”

    He didn’t reply, but his eyes flicked toward her briefly, as if weighing her words.

    “I mean it,” she went on, indignant. “That girl is blind, ungrateful. She deserves… she deserves someone like that arrogant CEO they wanted to force me on. Sebastián Álvarez. That kind of man should marry selfish, brainless girls like her.”

    The silence in the car thickened, but Isabella didn’t notice. She shook her head with fire in her eyes. “If I had a man like you, kind enough to help a stranger, responsible enough to keep his word, I would never run. Never.”

    He said nothing, though his grip tightened on the wheel.

    Minutes later, he slowed the car and pulled over in front of a run-down hotel, its neon sign flickering weakly in the dusk. Isabella sighed in relief.

    “How much?” she asked, fumbling with her backpack.

    His eyes met hers in the mirror. “Ten thousand dollars.”

    Her mouth fell open. “What?!”

    His face was unreadable. “That’s the fare.”

    “That’s outrageous!” she burst out. “Even if I saved for five years, I wouldn’t have that kind of money! I was planning to look for a job, not rob a bank.”

    He didn’t flinch. “That’s the price.”

    She threw her hands up, frustration spilling over. “What kind of driver are you? You think because I’m in a wedding dress I have money hidden somewhere?”

    This time he turned to face her fully. And in that moment, Isabella froze.

    She saw him clearly for the first time-tall, strikingly handsome, with sharp cheekbones and a mouth curved in a way that could almost be called charming. His eyes held hers with a calm intensity that made her heartbeat stutter.

    And then he said it.

    “Marry me.”

    Her breath caught. She almost choked on the air. “What?”

    “Marry me,” he repeated, his voice even, steady.

    She blinked, stunned. Then anger flared hot. “Are you sick, Gabriel? Did you hit your head this morning? You can’t just-just-”

    He didn’t interrupt. He only waited, as if her outburst meant nothing.

    “You told me your bride left you, and I’m not that bride,” she said.

    “And you ran away from your husband. So marry me instead,” Gabriel replied.

    Her laugh was sharp, disbelieving. “Never. Do you hear me? Never!”

    The click of the locks echoed around the car. Isabella’s stomach dropped as she realized he had closed all the doors. Her pulse skyrocketed.

    “What are you doing?” she whispered, panic lacing her voice.

    He turned the key, the engine growling to life again. “If you won’t marry me, I’ll return you to your family.”

    “No!” she cried, leaning forward, grabbing at his arm. “Please don’t take me back there. Please!”

    “Then marry me.” His tone was calm, almost casual, but his eyes burned with something she couldn’t name.

    Tears welled in her eyes. “Gabriel, this is insane. We don’t even know each other!”

    His jaw set. The car rolled forward, turning back toward the main road.

    “Stop!” she sobbed. “Stop, I’ll do it! I’ll marry you-but on one condition.”

    His eyes flicked to her, curious.

    She swallowed hard. “It will be a contract marriage. Nothing real. Just an agreement between us.”

    The car slowed again, his expression unreadable.

    “Contract marriage,” he repeated slowly, as if tasting the words.

    She nodded, tears streaking down her face. “Yes. That’s the only way.”

    He watched her in silence for a long moment. Then his lips curved into that faint, disarming smile again.

    “Deal.”

    Bride by Chance novel Chapter 3

    Gabriel started the car and drive for what seems like hours. Finally, the car rolled to a stop on the quiet road, the hum of the engine fading into silence. Isabella glanced up, confusion tightening her chest. They were nowhere near the hotel now.

    “Why are we stopping?” she asked, wary.

    Gabriel’s eyes flicked to her, calm and steady. “We’re going to a church.”

    Her throat tightened. “A church? Why?”

    “Because we’re getting married today…you accepted to be my wife, right?” His voice was firm, no hesitation.

    Her mouth fell open. “So fast? You can’t be serious!”

    He turned slightly in his seat, his expression unreadable. “I want this done before my family ties me to another woman. Another arrangement I have no intention of honoring. You want freedom, Isabella. So do I. This is how we get it.”

    Her heart pounded. Everything about this was wrong, reckless, insane-but she was cornered. Slowly, she drew in a breath, gathering what little courage she had.

    “Fine. But if we’re doing this, then I have rules.”

    His brow arched, amused. “Rules?”

    “Yes.” Her chin lifted, though her voice shook. “No sex. We won’t stay together. We live our lives separately. Do you understand?”

    For the first time, he laughed-low, deep, almost mocking. “I never planned to have sex with you anyway.”

    The ease of his answer stunned her. He didn’t look embarrassed or offended, just amused, as though her declaration had been childish. Isabella’s cheeks burned, but she crossed her arms, determined not to show weakness.

    Before she could retort, he reached for his phone. She watched as he dialed a number, his tone shifting into something sharp and commanding.

    “Prepare the chapel,” he said. “I am getting married and I want the papers ready. We’ll be there within the hour. And no one is to know. Not a soul.”

    The voice on the other end seemed to protest, but his response cut like a blade. “Do as I say.” And with that, he ended the call abruptly.

    Isabella blinked, startled. The authority in his voice sent a shiver down her spine. Too sharp. Too arrogant.

    “Too arrogant for a poor man,” she muttered under her breath before she could stop herself.

    His head turned sharply. “What did you say?”

    Her heart leapt into her throat. “I-I said you sound… too caring for a stranger. That’s all.” She forced a weak smile.

    He didn’t look convinced, but after a moment, he returned his eyes to the road, the car gliding smoothly forward. Isabella exhaled, pressing her hands together to keep them from trembling.

    Minutes later, the car pulled into the courtyard of a small, dimly lit church. The building was old, its white paint peeling, its bell tower leaning slightly as though burdened by secrets. Isabella’s stomach knotted.

    “This is insane,” she whispered.

    Gabriel didn’t reply. He opened the door and stepped out with the quiet assurance of a man who knew exactly what he wanted. She hesitated, but when he held the door open for her, she found her legs moving.

    Inside, the church smelled faintly of candle wax and dust. A priest stood waiting near the altar, his eyes flickering nervously between the tall man in the suit and the trembling bride in her torn gown.

    “Mr…” the priest started speaking, but Gabriel cut him off.”

    “No pleasantries, her name is Isabella Torres..go straight with the marriage.

    Isabella paused, staring at him.
    “How did you..?” she asked but he ignored her, as he held her hand and pulled her towards the altar.

    Two weary-looking witnesses, a young woman from the parish choir and an old man sweeping the floor were called to stand in.

    Isabella’s hands shook as the priest began.

    “In the name of God and this holy church, we are gathered here today…”

    Her ears rang. She barely heard the words as her mind screamed at her to run. But her feet wouldn’t move, and her heart wouldn’t obey.

    The priest’s voice droned on, the words both surreal and terrifying.

    “Do you, Gabriel Álvarez, take this woman-”

    Her head snapped up.

    Álvarez.

    The name sliced through her like a knife.

    Her lips parted, but no sound came out. Álvarez. Where had she heard it before? It clawed at the back of her mind, tugging at every whispered rumor, every late-night conversation she had overheard.

    “I do,” Gabriel said firmly.

    The priest turned to her. “Do you, Isabella Torres, take this man-”

    Her heart pounded so loudly she could barely hear herself whisper, “I do.”

    “Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may sign here.”

    Her hand shook so badly the pen almost slipped. She scrawled her name across the page, her signature jagged and messy.

    Gabriel took the pen next, his movements calm, deliberate. She leaned closer, eyes darting to the paper.

    There it was.

    Gabriel Álvarez.

    The name rang a louder bell now. Her blood ran cold.

    She turned to look at him, her lips parting, but the words caught in her throat.

    Álvarez.

    Could it be-?

    Her knees felt weak, the ground shifting beneath her as the priest murmured a final blessing. Gabriel’s hand brushed lightly against hers as he closed the book, his eyes flicking to her face.

    “You’re trembling,” he said softly, almost like a taunt.

    “No, I’m,” she replied, adjusting her dress.

    “Yes, you’re,” he said coldly.

    And Isabella knew. Deep down, though she couldn’t yet piece it all together, something was terribly, terrifyingly wrong.

    👉 CONTINUE READING

  • Divorcing My Alpha Husband For His Uncle by YOLO

    Divorcing My Alpha Husband For His Uncle by YOLO

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    How to manage a cheating husband when he’s got a 3 year old child out of it?

    Althea’s world comes crashing down when she finds out her husband of five long years has been sleeping with her sister-in-law/best friend.

    Not only was she a defective, wolfless, and barren Luna, but one who couldn’t even handle her own marriage. Everything was against her, even life itself.

    So what would happen when she gets imprisoned by her pack for requesting divorce?

    Or when she tries to escape but gets hitched into a contract marriage to her greatest, but sexiest nightmare- Alpha Alaric Darkmoor

    Her husband’s estranged Uncle.

    A man she should never desire this badly while bearing a mating mark for another.

    Behind his “charming” reputation lies a deadly secret and a mate bond he never expected.

    Will Althea let herself get claimed yet again?

    Or would she rather nail herself to the wall if it would prevent her from falling into the arms of the one man her body so desperately craves?

    👉 READ NOW

    Divorcing My Alpha Husband For His Uncle Chapter 1 The Betrayal

    ‎~Althea’s POV


    ‎”Shush… don’t wake our boy…”

    ‎The words drifted through the slightly closed door, slicing through my chest. The pregnancy test I was holding slipped from my trembling fingers and fluttered soundlessly to the floor. ‎I clamped a shaky hand over my mouth, but the gasp still tore free, ripping through my lungs. My feet buckled, as I staggered back a step.

    ‎What…what is happening? ‎Tears welled up instantly, blurring my vision until the corridor swam, I shook my head in disbelief. My knees went weak, and my body swayed as if the world had tilted without warning.

    ‎No. How…how did I get here? ‎I backed the door, then faced it again in confusion. The test report is long forgotten on the floor as hot tears streamed down my cheeks as the memory crashed into me.

    ‎~

    ‎Today was my day. Our day.

    ‎I was pregnant. ‎Just hours earlier, I had sat on the edge of the healer’s bed, my fingers digging into the fabric of my skirt as anxiety twisted low in my stomach. ‎Then she smiled at me, a gentle and knowing expression. She spoke of cycles and moon signs, of the life stirring inside me. My chest tightened painfully as her words replayed in my mind.

    “You’re two weeks gone, Luna.”

    ‎Her words echoed in my ears even now, unreal and dazzling. I had walked out of the healer’s quarters clutching the test report like a miracle, my heart so full that it hurts. ‎I gave him everything. Nolan’s child. Our child.

    ‎What have I done?

    ‎I shouldn’t have come here. ‎I steadied myself against the wall, my feet refusing to leave the spot. ‎I had only wanted Vespera to help me plan the surprise, my best friend. She’s a mother after all, she’d know what to do. ‎I imagined us whispering excitedly together planning a surprise reveal to Nolan, laughing over baby names the way we once laughed over girlhood dreams.

    ‎That was why I came here first.

    ‎I remembered hurrying through the pack estate, my steps light despite my nerves. Every breath I took filled me with renewed hope. ‎Until I reached her door, ‎at first, I thought I was mistaken, but a soft gasp slipped through the walls, followed by a low husky voice that was painfully familiar.

    ‎My steps slowed instinctively. The air felt tight and heavier, pressing against my chest as it thudded loudly for no reason. Or so I thought. ‎I even told myself it was nothing. That I was tired and strained from the jog down here and that I was imagining things, but ‎then I heard another sound. A deep, same familiar breathless chuckle

    ‎Then my heart sank, so deep that it sent a strange chill over my skin. ‎I moved closer, every instinct screaming at me to turn back even as my feet carried me forward, betraying me. They never listen, do they?

    ‎I stopped before the door, my hand hovering just inches from the handle. Through the narrowed crack, I saw them.

    ‎Nolan. ‎Vespera.

    ‎Then I heard a crack. The sound of my soul breaking maybe. ‎The world shattered silently around me. ‎They were tangled together in her bed, wrapped in a cocoon of blankets, bare skin against bare skin. His hands were on her waist in a way I knew too well. ‎I couldn’t breathe. ‎My mouth just hung open with trembling lips, no words. Nothing.

    ‎Her fingers were clutching his shoulders as if she had every right to be there. Nolan’s face was fixed at the crook of her neck leaving kisses. ‎As he’d done to me just this morning. ‎The sight was so wrong that my mind initially rejected it. Refusing to name what my eyes clearly saw-My husband and ‎my best friend. Together?

    ‎The betrayal pierced straight through me, sharp and merciless, like a long shard of cold glass driven into my heart. My breath came in short, shallow puffs, my chest burning as if I’d been running for miles. ‎I wanted to scream, to storm in and demand an explanation. To shatter the illusion with my voice. But, I couldn’t move. ‎While I stood frozen in the shadows, her voice came again- soft, in an airy moan as she stifled a giggle.

    ‎”Be gentle… don’t make too much noise,” she murmured. “Be careful not to wake our precious boy.” ‎My stomach lurched violently as bile rose up my throat.

    Our… boy?
    Our boy…

    ‎The words echoed in my head, over and over, until they drowned out everything else. Nausea surged up my throat, my vision narrowing. A child. Not only an affair. Not just his betrayal. Then it hit me, they’d been going on for years. ‎The boy everyone believed was my late brother-in-law’s son, the quiet child who called me Aunt with innocent eyes was Nolan’s flesh and blood.

    ‎I tasted bile now. But still, the nightmare wasn’t done with me. ‎Nolan’s voice followed, calm and assured, as if he were promising her the world.

    ‎”I’ll arrange everything soon,” he said. “He’ll be the heir. The only one. Don’t worry.” Vespera hummed in satisfaction.

    ‎”I made sure of it,” Nolan continued, his words casual, yet cruel. “She won’t be a hindrance. I’ve been giving her contraceptives for years.”

    ‎The corridor spun. ‎My vision went black with my ears ringing loudly in a deafening whoosh, I thought I might collapse. ‎Five years. ‎Five years of mockery, pitying looks, and my own silent shame for failing to conceive. ‎It was never my fault. ‎It had always been his wicked plan. ‎My hand pressed against my lower abdomen instinctively, terror and grief crashing into me all at once. The child inside me-my miracle-felt suddenly fragile, and unbearably precious.

    ‎I stumbled backward. ‎I don’t remember deciding to leave. My body just moves on its own, finally retreating step by step, as if guided by an invincible force alone. ‎Each movement sent sharp pain, slicing through my chest. My breathing was erratic, my heart pounding wildly as the weight of it all crushed down on me. I couldn’t stop the flow of tears that had been going on for the past… I don’t know.

    ‎The floor seemed too far away and the walls felt too close. But I kept moving, stumbling through the corridor with no destination in mind. Then an unbearable pain bloomed suddenly in my abdomen, very unforgiving and violent. I gasped, clutching myself as a warm terrifying sensation spread between my thighs.

    ‎My legs buckled. No. ‎Not now. Please…

    ‎Please, not my baby.

    ‎The last thing I felt was the cold stone beneath my knees and the sound of my own heartbeat roaring in my ears. ‎Darkness surged up to claim me, ‎I didn’t fight it.

    ‎And then…

    ‎Nothing.

    Divorcing My Alpha Husband For His Uncle Chapter 2 Miscarriage

    ‎I woke to the steady beeping of a machine and the sharp sting in my arm. ‎The smell of antiseptic and the crushing weight of silence pressed down heavily on my chest. ‎For a moment, I didn’t remember where I was. The ceiling above me was plain white and unfamiliar. ‎I turned my head slightly and saw a thin tube connected to my arm, feeding clear liquid into my veins. That was where the sting came from.

    ‎My body felt hollow, aching in a way that went deeper than flesh. Then the pain came. Not the physical kind-though it was there, as a dull, persistent throb low in my abdomen- but the other pain. The one that tore through me, so violently I couldn’t breathe. ‎Then the beeping grew restless and erratic.

    ‎The sound of footsteps rushed closer, then the door was pushed open. The healer hurried to my side, her movements quick but hesitant and her expression was gentle, but grim. A look of pity crossed her eyes and that made my heart sink even before she said anything.

    ‎”My Luna…” she hesitated. “I’m sorry. The shock was too much. The child… could not be saved.”

    Her words came out softly, ‎but the impact was anything but soft. ‎It felt as though a clawed hand ripped straight through my chest, splitting my heart open. I gasped, clutching the sheets as agony surged through me in violent waves. My vision blurred instantly as tears spilled down my temples, soaking into the pillow beneath my head.

    ‎Gone. ‎My baby was gone. ‎The little life I had carried for such a brief, precious moment. The only proof that I wasn’t broken, that I was worthy was gone, just like that. ‎A broken sound tore out of my throat before I could even stop it. I turned my face away, curling inward, in a ball, as if I could somehow contain the emptiness tearing me apart. ‎The healer just stood there, helplessly watching me break into a million pieces.

    ‎Memories crashed into me all at once.

    ‎The door.
    ‎The voices.
    ‎The bed. Their words.

    ‎Our boy.
    ‎I’ve been giving her contraceptives for years. My hands shook badly.

    ‎No.

    ‎I couldn’t lie here. I wouldn’t let this be the end of it. ‎Nolan Darkmoon would look me in the eyes. He’d hear what he had done. To me, to us and to our child. ‎He’d see what he’d destroyed. ‎I forced myself upright despite the healer’s protest, my body screamed in pain as I swung my legs over the side of the bed. The ache that seared through my abdomen was sharp but it grounded me, anchoring me to something solid.

    ‎Fury.

    ‎I left the clinic wrapped in a cloak that felt far too heavy for my own fragile body. ‎Whisperers followed me as I passed through the pack grounds.

    ‎”She lost the child…”
    ‎”No wolf, and no heir…”
    ‎”Poor Luna… or maybe cursed.”

    ‎Some glances held looks of pity, while others held poorly hidden contempt, a few didn’t even bother hiding their satisfaction at all. ‎My spine stiffened with every step I took. Yes, I was wolfless from birth. But I lifted my chin anyway, refusing to bow under their stares, even as my heart bled with every of their murmured word. ‎I didn’t stop walking until I reached Vespera’s residence.

    ‎And then-

    ‎I froze. ‎The door opened and Nolan stepped out first, beside him was Vespera, and between them, held carefully, was the little boy. Their son, ‎they looked like a perfect little family straight out of a magazine. My breath hitched painfully as something twisted deep in my chest, ‎it should have been us. ‎The sight was so cruel, it seemed absurd. I swallowed forcefully.

    ‎Vespera noticed me first. ‎Her eyes widened, and she gently released the boy’s hand, stepping toward me, concern etched on her beautiful face.

    ‎”Althea,” she said softly. “Oh my goodness… are you alright? We heard you collapsed-”

    ‎I laughed. ‎The sound was hollow, brittle, nothing like my joy-filled ones.

    ‎”Don’t worry,” I said coldly. “I wouldn’t dare interrupt family time.”

    ‎Her lips parted, her expression faltering for just a fraction of a second. Nolan stepped forward then, his face carefully composed, concern painted on it like a second skin.

    ‎”Baby,” he said evenly. ‎The word nearly broke me all over again.

    ‎”This isn’t what you think.” ‎I looked at him-really looked at him-and something in me crumbled.

    ‎”Isn’t it?” I asked quietly, my voice cracked. “Because it looks to me like my husband walking hand in hand with his lover and their child.”

    ‎Vespera gasped softly, tears instantly pooling in her eyes.

    ‎”Please don’t say things like that.” She pleaded, her voice quivering. “You’re misunderstanding everything. My marriage was miserable, Althea. You know that. Nolan has only ever helped me out of kindness.”

    ‎She reached for my hand but I ripped them away. Nolan nodded, seizing the opportunity. “She’s my late brother’s wife. And the child is his son. I’m only taking care of my family.”

    ‎As he spoke, he reached out and wrapped an arm around Vespera’s shoulders, pulling her gently against his side. To comfort her, the absurdity of it almost made me dizzy. Anger surged through me violently, hot, blinding, and overwhelming. My hand rose before I even realized it, trembling as I moved to strike him. ‎But it never reached him. ‎A firm grip closed around my wrist painfully.

    ‎”Nolan,” his Beta said sharply, stepping between us, his eyes warning. “This isn’t appropriate.”

    ‎He dropped my hand uselessly to my side and ‎Nolan’s gaze hardened.

    ‎”Enough, Althea,” he said coldly. “Stop imagining things that never happened. All this pain you’re feeling is in your head. Don’t drag innocent people into your delusions.”

    ‎So something inside me went utterly still. The final string of hope snapped neatly. ‎I looked at the man I had been utterly in love with for five long years. The man I had centered my existence around, and saw him clearly at last.

    ‎A stranger.‎
    ‎Liar.‎
    ‎A cheating bastard.
    ‎A monster wrapped in authority and charm.

    ‎The weight of silence in the courtyard rushed through my ears. ‎I knew what I was about to say next would shatter everything. ‎Us. And it was only just the beginning, but I didn’t care anymore.

    ‎”I want a divorce.”

    Divorcing My Alpha Husband For His Uncle Chapter 3 Divorce

    ‎For the first time, Nolan looked surprised. His widened eyes stared at me in disbelief.

    ‎”Wh…what?”

    ‎”I want a divorce.” My voice broke the quiet courtyard, it was like everyone present was holding their breath. For a heartbeat, no one spoke. Nolan’s expression was still frozen, not in anger, I didn’t even see any sign of hurt and it broke me.

    ‎The brief crack of surprise vanished almost instantly from his face, replaced by a calm so controlled it made my skin crawl. Then he smiled, the way I used to drool over. But now I see it, it never reached his eyes, it was all measured and calculated. Why didnt I see it before?

    ‎”Take her back to the Alpha’s residence,” Nolan said, his voice smooth and authoritative in that Alpha manner. “My Luna isn’t feeling well.”

    ‎I stiffened. “I’m staying right here.”

    ‎Vespera moved first, stepping closer with soft concern painted perfectly across her face, but her eyes spoke otherwise. “Althea, please,” she said gently. “You’ve been through so much. Losing a child would break anyone. You shouldn’t be making such decisions in this state.”

    ‎Her hand hovered near my arm as if she might steady me. ‎I flinched away on instinct and watched as Nolan’s gaze swept the onlookers-elders, guards, servants, pack members- their gazes lingering too long. “You all heard the healer,” he said coolly. “Shock, emotional instability. She needs rest, not conflict.”

    ‎The words settled over the crowd like a judge’s verdict. His words were law, apparently, and I was the one who fed that to him. ‎Some nodded, while others looked away. ‎My body shook in exhaustion as I felt the shift immediately, the subtle reordering of loyalty. My grief, my pain, turned into a convenient weakness he could use.

    ‎”I’m not unstable,” I said, my voice steady despite the tremor in my hands. “I know exactly what I’m asking for.”

    ‎Nolan finally looked directly at me with a tight smile. “You don’t.”

    ‎He then turned to Vespera. “Take the child inside.”

    ‎She hesitated, eyes flickering to me with something that looked almost like triumph, before guiding the boy away. The moment they disappeared, Nolan gestured toward the inner hall.

    ‎”Come,” he said. “We’ll discuss this privately.”

    ‎The door closed behind us with a soft thud. Silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating. Nolan loosened his cuffs slowly, as if we were about to engage in pack finances instead of the ruin of my life. And to think I used to find that sexy.

    ‎”You saw things you shouldn’t have,” he started at last. “And now you’re unraveling.”

    ‎I laughed quietly. “Don’t insult me by pretending, dear husband.”

    ‎He spoke, not bothering to deny it. ‎”Yes,” Nolan said flatly, as if already tired of the conversation which made me scoff.

    ‎”I’ve been with Vespera for years. The boy is mine and he’ll inherit this pack.”

    ‎He just said those words carelessly, without shame. Like facts anyone would accept. ‎My chest tightened. “You let everyone believe he was your brother’s.”

    ‎”I let them believe what was convenient.”

    ‎”And me?” My nails dig into my palms. “What was I supposed to believe?”

    ‎He studied me for a moment, expression distant but something that looked like guilt crossed his eyes briefly.

    ‎”You were always supposed to do what you’ve always done, Althea. Smile, manage the pack, and be useful.”

    ‎”Useful,” I repeated, the word clawing out of my throat. “Is that all I was to you”?

    ‎”Yes.” He stated matter-of-factly.

    ‎The simplicity of it hurts more than the rage ever could.

    ‎”Then why,” I asked hoarsely, “why did I never conceive?” I knew what I heard, but it’s like a part of me chose to still have little faith in him. ‎He wouldn’t do something so horrible like that, not to me.

    ‎Something like amusement flickered across his face. Like he was reminiscing.

    ‎”Because I made sure you didn’t,” Nolan said. “Moonroot extract. Although mild, and tasteless, but very potent. The healer never even noticed!”

    ‎He jollied like a scientist drunk on his favorite experiment. The room tilted, my arms catching air as I tried to steady myself.

    ‎”You-” My breath caught. “You drugged me.”

    ‎”I controlled variables,” he corrected. “A wolfless Luna carrying an Alpha’s heir would have complicated things.”

    ‎”No one loves to be a laughing stock, Althea. I mean…except you ofcourse.” He shrugged, a smirk tugging at his lips. ‎I stared at him, the pieces clicking together with sickening clarity. Five years. Five years of the shame I carried alone. Why didn’t I notice? He was never bothered about my not being able to get pregnant.

    ‎He was just… there. Nutting inside me while I secretly hoped it would work each time we made love. He watched it register, then added calmly, “You were never meant to bear a child, Althea.”

    ‎My vision blurred, the tears I had been holding so forcefully spilled, but he continued relentlessly.

    ‎”You’re just a decoration,” he said. “A little side piece to make me look good. A wolfless body meant for appearance and pleasure, not legacy.”

    ‎The words sliced through me one after another, so cruel.

    ‎”Useless,” he went on and I just stood there. My legs are doing that thing it always does, refusing to let me flee. “Except for what you represent.”

    ‎I finally took a step back, my spine hitting the table behind me.

    ‎”You loved her,” I said, it wasn’t a question, more like to myself.

    ‎Vespera never had to fight. Nolan had already chosen her.

    ‎”Yes,” Nolan replied without hesitation, pride shining in those brown eyes I despise now.

    ‎”Vespera is the woman I love.”

    ‎”And me?” Why do I keep asking these when I already know the answer? Maybe a little part of me still hopes. Even if it was just a little, affection.

    ‎”I chose you because you weren’t a threat,” he said. “For your bloodline and obedience. Your status helped me become Alpha remember?”

    ‎I shook my head, something breaking loose in my chest. “All those years- you let me believe…”

    ‎”Oh come on now Althea,” he tsked. “Don’t tell me you actually believed you were capable of being loved.” He cut in.

    ‎”Sweetie, that was your delusions. And those don’t get you anywhere.”

    ‎I swallowed hard. “I’m asking for a divorce.”

    ‎His expression finally hardened.

    ‎”And I said, No.”

    ‎”You can’t force me-”

    ‎”I can,” Nolan declared calmly. “Mate bond law forbids dissolution without the Alpha’s consent. The pack needs stability. And I’m the Alpha.”

    ‎”You’re keeping me against my will.”

    ‎”I’m keeping what’s mine.”

    ‎Those words sent a chill through me.

    ‎”Letting you go would weaken my rule,” he continued, stepping closer to me while I planted my back firmly on the table. ” And frankly…” he paused, eyes narrowing, looking down my body. “I don’t want to.”

    ‎I felt something inside me collapse completely. The last fragile hope, some foolish belief that he might let me walk away, died right there. ‎I don’t want to be a prisoner here, to him. He stepped even closer, invading my space. I could smell him, the once familiar comforting smell now made my stomach churn.

    ‎”You should be grateful,” Nolan said quietly. “A woman like you had no right to ask for more.”

    ‎The sentence struck deeper than a blow and before I could speak, the door opened and two guards stood waiting, with their heads bowed. ‎My eyes frantically pleaded with Nolan’s as I shook my head.

    ‎”Escort my Luna to her quarters,” Nolan ordered. “Don’t let her leave them, for her own protection.”

    ‎Hands closed around my arms, not roughly, but firm enough to contain my thrashing and twisting.

    ‎”Nolan- Nolan!”

    ‎I screamed as they dragged me away, my voice cracking as more tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. ‎He just sent a little wave before turning his back on me, because there was nothing left to see. ‎And I understood with chilling clarity.

    This wasn’t a marriage anymore.‎

    ‎It was a cage.

    👉 CONTINUE READING

  • Claimed by My Father’s Rival by 4Rose

    Claimed by My Father's Rival  by 4Rose

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    Five years ago, I shattered my father’s skull and vanished into the shadows. To the world, I was a ghost. To the medical school, just a quiet student. To the most ruthless mafia Don in New York? I was the ultimate prize.
    Killian O’Connor is a monster in a bespoke suit. Cold. Lethal. Dominant. He took over the city with blood on his hands and an iron rule: No drugs, no mercy, and no loose ends. My father murdered his little sister. Now, Killian has come to collect his debt.
    He didn’t just break into my clinic on a rainy midnight-he pinned me to the exam table, stripped away my forged identity, and dangled my family’s lives on a string.
    “You are my hostage now, little Moretti,” his dark voice purred against my ear, his large hand ripping through my clothes without an ounce of pity. “Your freedom, your safety, and your body… all belong to me.”
    I promised myself I would do anything to survive. I gave him my father’s secret list of political puppets. I let him lock me in his golden cage. I even let him press his cold steel knife-and his scalding lips-against my skin.
    In his subterranean hell, I was supposed to be his enemy. So why does his cruel possession feel like the only safe haven I’ve ever known?
    “Claimed by My Father’s Rival” is a dark, angsty mafia romance with explicit steam, a possessive hero who’ll burn the world for his woman, and a strong heroine with a dark secret. Guaranteed HEA.

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    Claimed by My Father’s Rival Chapter 1 Found at Last

    Flashback, age fifteen
    “…When morning breaks, I’ll keep you safe beside me…”
    I sat on the carpet with my eyes closed, listening to the song through my earbuds, my brown hair still damp and fragrant with lemon-scented shampoo, spread loose over my shoulders.
    This was the one brief, precious stretch of the day when I didn’t have to hold myself together.
    Even turning a page sent a spike of pain through my wrist. Courtesy of my father – the buckle-shaped bruise from last week hadn’t healed yet, and last night had added a fresh one. I glanced up at the mirror. A bruise the color of a storm cloud bloomed across my forehead. I dabbed on a thin layer of iodine, and the second it grazed the swollen skin, I hissed and sucked in a breath.
    “Bang!”
    A crash exploded from downstairs – the sound of a door slamming so hard it hit the wall.
    The man they called my father – Carmine Moretti – was home.
    I could gauge exactly how much he’d had to drink just from the sound of that door. And there was no mistaking it: this was the worst he’d been in six months.
    My father had ruled this city’s underworld for a decade. Lately, word was he’d run into a bit of “trouble” – some hot-headed upstart, avenging a dead sister, was chewing through his territory.
    I’d overheard that much from behind the staircase railing. Not that they ever bothered to lower their voices around me. Why would an elephant bother hiding anything from an ant?
    I scrambled to shove the book and earbuds out of sight. Anything that made it look like I was enjoying myself became kindling for his temper. I hated how practiced I’d become at hiding it.
    Please, I begged the empty air. Let tonight pass quietly.
    Tears were already gathering.
    Downstairs, my mother’s voice rang out, falsely bright: “Carmine, you’re home-”
    The words never finished. A sharp crack of a slap cut her off.
    “Shut your mouth, you useless bitch.”
    “No!” My mother’s cry was short, cut off almost as soon as it started.
    Then came the thudding – dull, heavy, one after another, tangled with the slur of my father’s curses.
    Bile rose in my throat. Cold sweat slid down my forehead, and my hands went numb and icy.
    For one unbearable second, I wanted to crawl under the desk and disappear.
    No. I couldn’t. He’d kill her.
    Fifteen years old, and was I still that child who only knew how to hide? I bolted out of my room, ducking first into my sister Mia’s. Six-year-old Mia was fast asleep, clutching her stuffed animal. I slipped a pair of noise-canceling earmuffs over her ears, then ran downstairs.
    I smelled the blood before I even reached the living room.
    My father’s knee was pinning my mother’s spine to the floor. One hand fisted in her hair, slamming her head against the tile again and again, blood already spreading across the grout lines. As if that weren’t enough to satisfy him, his other fist came down on her back – one dull, heavy blow after another.
    At first my mother screamed. Before long, all that was left was a broken, breathless rasp from somewhere deep in her throat.
    “Dad… please stop… Mom’s going to die…” My lips trembled as I clung to the table for support.
    He didn’t even look at me. I was invisible to him right now – I’d only become his next target once he’d finished with her.
    My fingers moved without thought across the tabletop and closed around something heavy and cold – a brass ashtray.
    My heart lurched.
    Maybe. Maybe this could be the night this nightmare ended.
    I closed my eyes, took one step forward, and swung the ashtray as hard as I could into the back of his skull-

    ***
    Present, age twenty
    A crack of thunder yanked me out of that five-year-old abyss.
    I looked up. Rain hammered the window like it had gone mad, and it had been coming down for hours now. Every storm dragged me back to that blood-soaked night. I shook my head and slotted the hemostat back into the sterilizer tray.
    I was studying pre-nursing at community college – straight A’s. My professor had tried more than once to talk me into transferring to a four-year state program, had even lined up a scholarship for me. I turned her down every time.
    I wanted a better school. But only a place this overcrowded, this forgettable, was safe enough. The Morettis could scour the whole East Coast and never think to look here.
    To me, safety mattered more than anything. All I wanted was for Mom and Mia to stay alive, and to stay together.
    Classes in the day, the clinic in the afternoon, home with them in the evening. Tight on money, but steady. A resident once or twice had asked me out for coffee. I always turned them down. I didn’t dare. Someone like me – someone the past could swallow whole at any moment – didn’t get to fall in love.
    Mia had asked me once why I never went on dates. I’d lied and told her I was saving up to buy her headphones. She believed me.
    The new mint-green pair sat in my canvas bag right now, bought with this month’s paycheck. If it weren’t for this storm, she’d already be wearing them.
    Just picturing her smile put a little life back into my legs after a full day on my feet.
    A car pulled up outside, its headlights sweeping the window and setting off every alarm bell in my body. Five years of running had taught me to bristle at anything that disturbed the stillness. Most of the time, it turned out to be nothing but my own paranoia.
    Mia always told me, Sis, you’re too jumpy.
    She’d been too young to remember how terrifying our father really was. Besides – what was the harm in being careful?
    I slipped behind the curtain and fixed my eyes on the car.
    No one got out. A few minutes later, it pulled away, leaving nothing but rain under the streetlight. I let out a breath. Just some poor soul who’d gotten the wrong address. Nobody ran a clinic out here at midnight – not unless they had a doctor’s private number.
    I turned back to the exam room and went on packing up the instruments.
    Crash-
    The glass in the clinic door shattered in an instant, and the door was kicked open, letting in a gust of cold, rain-soaked air.
    That same car sat outside, its high beams blazing straight through the doorway, blinding me. Silhouetted against the light stood a tall figure.
    I raised a hand to shield my eyes, still unable to make out his face – only that two eyes had fixed on me and refused to look away.
    He stepped inside, boots crunching over broken glass with every stride, and with each step closer, the thick copper smell of blood filled the clinic.
    He stopped a yard away. Every hair on my body stood on end.
    Damn it.
    I snatched a scalpel from the tray and backed against the wall – an instinct hard-wired into me after five years on the run. I studied him: too tall, a black suit stretched taut over a powerful frame, collar loosened, a bead of water tracing the line of his jaw.
    He stood there, a yard away, and his eyes – dark, unreadable – swept over me the way a predator looks over something it already owns.
    “The Moretti heiress,” a cold curve tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You’ve been a hell of a lot of trouble to find.”
    -So. Found at last.

    Claimed by My Father’s Rival Chapter 2 Hostage

    Sloane’s POV
    Was he one of my father’s men?
    I studied him more closely – a handsome, unfamiliar face. His suit, soaked as it was, was clearly expensive, tailored. The watch on his wrist was a limited edition.
    I knew my father. He never spent that kind of money on anyone who worked for him.
    “Who are you?” I gritted out, and the moment his attention flickered, I struck – the scalpel aimed at the side of his throat.
    I wasn’t trying to kill him. Just to buy myself a window to run.
    Everything blurred. His hand closed around my wrist before I even saw it move. I drove a knee toward his ribs; he caught it against his thigh and shoved it back, and my knee buckled under the force, nearly folding.
    Every technique I’d ever prided myself on meant nothing against him.
    He held my wrist and, almost lazily, guided the blade closer to his own throat – close enough to graze his collar.
    “You-” My eyes went wide.
    “Not really a girl’s toy,” he said, twisting my wrist until the scalpel clattered to the floor, “especially not in front of me.”
    “Who the hell are you?” I demanded, and in the next breath my arm was wrenched behind my back and I was pinned face-down over the desk, the edge biting into my hip hard enough to knock a groan out of me.
    He leaned down, his body large over mine, his breath hot against my ear, and gooseflesh rose along my neck. I braced my forearms and tried to push up; he pressed me flat again. This time harder – my shoulder slammed into a file folder, and I gasped.
    “Care to try a different move?” he murmured, looking down at me like I was some minor entertainment. “Let’s see what the Morettis actually taught you.”
    Inwardly, I scoffed. This wasn’t one of my father’s men. My father would have killed me outright – he wouldn’t have the patience for this cat-and-mouse routine.
    “Killian O’Connor.” He spared me the trouble of guessing. “Perhaps you’ve heard the name.”
    Cold sweat beaded on my forehead. Of course I’d heard it. Heir to the O’Connor family. Five years ago, his sister had died at my father’s hands, and from that day on, the blood feud between our families had been carved in stone – nothing left to bridge it.
    “I’m not a Moretti anymore. Let go of me.” I struggled against the desk. “Taking me does nothing to them.”
    “Sure it doesn’t,” Killian said with a cold laugh. “Though that old bastard would probably rather carve you up himself – considering five years ago, thanks to you, he spent a week in the hospital before he crawled back from the edge of dead.”
    “Then why me?” I was still struggling.
    The weight on my back pressed down harder, his patience visibly thinning. “Keep moving, and I can’t promise they’ll keep smiling like this.”
    A Polaroid dropped in front of my face.
    I looked down, and my mind went white with static.
    My mother, at the stove. Mia beside her, grinning ear to ear. The photograph had gone soft and wrinkled from the rain, the edges blurred – but I recognized the apartment instantly. Ours.
    I stopped fighting.
    He could have pressed that scalpel to my throat right then, and I wouldn’t have dared resist.

    The blindfold was torn off without ceremony. The light was blinding.
    I raised a hand against the glare, and it took a few seconds before the room came into focus. Small. Bulletproof glass sealed every wall, reflecting nothing back at me but my own blurred outline – no trace of what lay beyond.
    Killian had changed out of his soaked suit and now sat across from me on the sofa, a glass of whiskey turning slowly in his hand. His shirtsleeves were rolled up carelessly, veins standing out along his forearm.
    I glanced down at the iron shackles around my ankles. Pointless, really. Even without them, there was nowhere for me to run.
    He took a sip. “Welcome,” he said, “to being my guest.”
    I bit my lip and said nothing, my mind racing through everything I knew about this man.
    Five years ago, my father had dismissed him as some “reckless kid,” even as he’d already begun gnawing away at Moretti territory. Three years ago, at twenty-four, he’d made his name in a single night – dropping his own traitor uncle, along with a few hundred of the man’s men, straight into the ocean. After that, no one inside the O’Connor family dared to challenge him again. Seven ports along the southeast coast, and every ounce of the black-market trade that ran through them, belonged to him alone.
    Four of those seven ports had once flown Moretti colors.
    The one thing he never touched was drugs. Any man under him caught so much as sampling it lost a hand, or a foot. In this world, that rule made him something close to an anomaly. Rumor had it, it had something to do with his dead sister.
    I understood the blood feud between him and my family – his sister had died by my father’s hand. But if he wanted vengeance, my father was the one to bleed for it. Why me? I was the daughter who’d fled the family. My own father would be thrilled to hear I’d died out here.
    “You’re useful to me,” he said, as if he’d read the question straight off my face.
    “Useful how?”
    “I don’t like wasting time,” he said, tapping a finger against the rim of his glass. “The Morettis have connections buried in the government, in every other family in this business. I imagine you know quite a few names.”
    I drew a slow breath, forcing myself to think past the fear. He wasn’t wrong. Those names – I’d grown up hearing them, knew them better than I knew my own.
    “Give me the list.” He raised his glass toward me, almost a toast. “You managed to disappear from your father’s manhunt for five years. You clearly know what serves you best.”
    I thought of a headline from last month’s Financial Times – federal regulators freezing three of O’Connor’s offshore accounts, launching a full audit. That kind of investigation could drag on for as long as the government wanted it to, and it was more than enough to choke his cash flow dry.
    I’d suspected it the moment I read it: my father’s fingerprints, all over it. He couldn’t take back his territory, so he’d make sure his enemy couldn’t enjoy the spoils either.
    “You understand now, why I came for you.”
    His gaze slid from my face down to the shackles at my ankles.
    “And frankly, I’m curious. If Carmine found out the daughter he beat half to death five years ago wasn’t just alive, but had sold out every card he was holding to the man who wants him dead – I wonder what his face would look like.”
    I forced my voice level, already calculating what this bargaining chip might be worth.
    “If I hand you a network the Morettis spent half a lifetime building – what do I get in return?”
    He set the glass down, and his eyes cut into me like a blade. “Sweetheart, do you honestly think you’re in a position to negotiate?”
    “I do.” I clenched my fists and laid out my terms. “I’ll give you the list – more than you asked for, even. But I have conditions. Conditions that cost you nothing.”
    He tipped his chin up slightly, a signal to continue.
    “You guarantee my mother’s and my sister’s safety. Don’t drag them into any of this.” I held out one hand, palm up. “And give me a phone. I need to tell them I’m alive.”
    Killian rose, crossed the room, and tipped my chin up with two fingers, forcing my head back.
    He was too tall, too close. My neck strained to its limit.
    Our eyes locked. A faint smile touched his mouth, and his thumb brushed over my bottom lip. “Direct. I like that. But the O’Connor family doesn’t deal in verbal agreements. As of now, you’re my hostage. Your freedom – your body – all of it belongs to me.”
    He let go, pulled a phone from his pocket, and dropped it in my lap. “Speaker.”
    I grabbed it and dialed home.
    “Hello?” My mother’s voice, and behind it, Mia’s chatter.
    “It’s me, Mom.” My eyes stung. I forced the tremor out of my throat.
    “Sloane? Why aren’t you home yet?” A pause. “Whose number is this?”
    “My phone died. I borrowed a coworker’s. Mom, the clinic’s sending me to a conference last-minute – I’m leaving tonight, might be gone a few days.” It was a lie I’d used twice before this year; convincing enough.
    “So sudden?” A pause on the other end. “Sweetheart, is this about your father-”
    “No, of course not.” I cut her off, softening my voice. “He can’t find us. Anyway – Mia’s headphones, I’ll bring them home with me. The color she wanted.”
    A muffled cheer came through the line.
    That was when Killian leaned in without warning. His hand slid beneath my shirt, and with a sharp snap, my bra clasp gave way. I went rigid, breath catching in my throat, my fingers tightening around the phone as I forced the gasp back down.
    I looked down and watched his hands – two hot, coiling things – slide from my back to the front, closing over my breasts, kneading without rhythm or mercy. Every inch of my skin broke out in a shiver.
    His mouth found my ear. “Don’t move,” he murmured. “Or your mother will hear.”
    On the other end, my mother kept talking – some last piece of advice. My ears burned, my mind went blank, and I bit down hard on my tongue, using the pain to hold on to whatever control I had left.
    “Mom, I have to pack.”
    “Sis-!” Mia’s voice cut in, like she had something to say.
    Right as her voice came through the speaker, Killian’s fingers pinched the peak of my breast, deliberate, precise.
    I sucked in a breath and forced the words out fast: “Mia… mm… I’ll see you when I’m home, okay – bye!”
    I nearly slammed my thumb down on the call-end button – one more second and I had no idea what sound would have come out of me instead.
    That devil leaned in close again, his voice thick with amusement. “I told you. Your body belongs to me too. And this – this is only the beginning.”

    Claimed by My Father’s Rival Chapter 3 Boxes

    Sloane’s POV
    “Don’t drag them into this.” I pressed my hand over his, stilling it where it still moved beneath my shirt, and forced a breath into my lungs. “I thought you meant to keep your word.”
    “That depends on how well you behave.” Killian didn’t stop.
    Two knocks broke the moment. I nearly sagged with relief.
    “Come in.” Killian withdrew his hand from beneath my shirt, lingering a moment longer at my waist, thumb and forefinger giving one last, deliberate pinch.
    Only once his warmth had fully left my skin did I dare breathe again.
    A woman in a dark uniform entered, head bowed, shoulders drawn in on themselves. “Don, the room’s ready. I’ll take Miss Sloane there now.”
    “Go.” Killian walked back to the sofa and sat.
    The maid knelt and unlocked the shackles at my ankles, then gestured toward the door.
    I forced myself upright and reached to straighten my soaked shirt – the bra clasp was beyond repair, the fabric bunched uselessly against my chest, impossible to smooth into any kind of dignity. I made myself walk to the door anyway. I would not let him see anything more than what he’d already taken.
    The moment I stepped through the doorway, I understood exactly where I was.
    An alloy corridor stretched out ahead, no end in sight, sterile as an operating room. Along both sides ran a row of one-way glass cells. I glanced back once – Killian was still seated where I’d left him, glass in hand, lost in some thought of his own.
    The maid led the way, her pace unhurried enough that I couldn’t help but see everything on either side of me.
    In the cell to my left, a man in port-worker’s overalls hung suspended by chains, his toes barely grazing the floor, his face swollen a deep, bruised purple.
    Across from him, another man – reduced to nothing but skin over bone – huddled in a corner, staring at the floor with hollow, unseeing eyes.
    Further on, a cell that had just finished its work: blood sprayed across the inside of the glass, a body slumped over a steel stool, flayed raw. A guard hosed the floor down, rinsing the blood away in thin red streams.
    Nearly every room staged its own horror.
    “You’re the first one to walk out of a ‘Box’ without a mark on you,” the maid said, a quick glance flicking toward me before dropping away again.
    “Box?” I repeated the word. “You call these – these chambers of hell – boxes?”
    “Yes, miss.” Her voice dropped even lower. “It’s the Don’s word for them.”
    I walked on in silence.
    I’d seen how my father punished his enemies and his traitors – pure savagery, violence with no shape to it, nothing but rage looking for a place to land. This was different. The clean corridor, the deliberate order of it all – this felt less like punishment and more like specimens laid out behind glass. That kind of clean, methodical cruelty chilled me far more than anything my father had ever done.
    My steps faltered.
    “How could she-” My hand flew to my mouth before I even registered the thought.
    Through the glass, I recognized the woman inside – a federal prosecutor I’d seen countless times on the evening news, always composed, always sharp, carrying an authority that brooked no argument.
    Yet here she was inside the interrogation room, her tailored suit cast aside, wearing nothing but a torn white shirt with lace panties hanging from one ankle. Several naked men were gang-raping her. One forced her head down, thrusting himself fully into her mouth as her saliva spilled onto the floor. Another held her by the waist, sneering as he drove brutally into her lower body. The others crowded around her, hands roaming freely, relentlessly tearing through her sensitive spots.
    Multiple cameras and studio lights were set up nearby, recording every angle of the nightmare in agonizing clarity.
    What unsettled me most wasn’t the violence itself. It was her eyes. There was no fight left in them – only a kind of hollowed-out compliance, as if whatever had made her her had already been methodically taken apart.
    I’d watched her on television just two days ago, delivering a verdict with absolute conviction.
    The maid saw me stop and offered a quiet explanation. “Anyone who crosses the Don – death is the mercy. The Don says stripping someone like her of her pride is worth a thousand times more than simply killing her.”
    “He’s insane.” My stomach lurched violently. “An absolute monster.”
    I didn’t look toward either side again. I kept my head down and followed the maid until we reached a door at the top floor.
    It was a cage – an obscenely beautiful one. A massive, antique four-poster bed dominated the center of the room. Electric flames flickered in a fireplace nearby. Deep crimson drapes hung from the canopy all the way to the carpet. Four narrow, Gothic-arched windows had been sealed shut with steel plating – no sunlight would ever reach this room. Not even a breath of wind.
    I turned to the maid. “I’m nobody. Why would he need a cage this reinforced just to hold me? Not even special forces could get out of a room like this.”
    She hesitated, her gaze sweeping the dim, opulent room before finally landing on my soaked shirt. She didn’t answer my question – only said, quietly, “Miss Sloane, the door won’t be locked. But I wouldn’t recommend stepping outside it. This place is dangerous.”
    There was something like pity in her eyes. It was the only warmth I’d felt since walking into this hell.
    Instinct made the decision for me before I could think it through.
    I dropped to my knees on the heavy carpet and seized her hand. “Please. Help me.”
    “My mother is sick. My sister has no one else. I can’t die here.” I clung to her, begging.
    Fear and something like anguish crossed her face. She tried to pull away; I held on tighter.
    “Please. I’m only twenty. I’ve never hurt anyone.”
    Her eyes darted around the room, as if the walls themselves might be watching. Then she leaned in close and murmured, so quietly I almost missed it: “Tonight, three a.m. Wait here.”
    The instant the words left her mouth, she shoved me away, her voice rising sharply: “You’d best behave and give up on that idea.”
    She turned and walked out. The heavy wooden door swung shut behind her.
    I sank to the carpet, the strength that had held me upright all night finally giving out. The electric fire cast a trembling orange light across the drapes – flickering, flickering.
    If I could get out of here, I would take my mother and Mia and run to the ends of the earth.
    If I could just get out.

    👉 CONTINUE READING

  • The Alpha’s Destined Mate: Similar Book to Alpha Hayley’s Destined Mate novel

    The Alpha's Destined Mate: Similar Book to Alpha Hayley's Destined Mate novel

    Overnight, Alora went from being the Alpha’s daughter in the Gemini wolf pack to a fugitive with a shattered family. Her uncle, who had seized power, had murdered her father, and her mother had been imprisoned and was being sought by her uncle’s men. She gave it everything she had but couldn’t get away. She was led to the edge of the cliff, but she refused to give in. After jumping off the cliff, she ended up falling to her death.
    On the lakeside, Xavier, who was on his way back to his wolf pack, saw Alora. A quick check of her breathing revealed that she was still alive, so he dashed over.
    “Hey! What are you doing?”
    Alora struggled to open her eyes. Her eyelids reflected a handsome face. She made a painful lip movement.
    Save me, save me, I want my vengeance.”
    “What’s your name?”
    “Alora”
    After uttering a few words, she collapsed to the ground.
    Finally, Xavier came to the conclusion that he couldn’t risk getting himself into any more trouble. The voice in his head that had been silent for years returned just as he was about to abandon her and let her die.
    “Her life is in danger! Alora! Your situation is in her hands.”

    The Alpha’s Destined Mate Chapter 1 One

    Damon stared through the sky, he could picture the rising the of the moon, this was the third full moon that set for the year, there was one thing werewolves enjoys in full moons, the warmth of the full moon which radiates on their body when they change to their wolf form.

    Damon smiled, but that wasn’t the only reason he loves full moons, full moons meant seeing Anna, the woman who had been forcefully taken away from him right from the moment he laid his eyes on her.

    As if knowing he was thinking about her, he felt a slender hands on his shoulders, slowly, he turned to stare at the woman who had captured his heart, her scent alone was able to relax his inner battles.

    “You aren’t asleep yet?”

    Anna asked, staring at Damon, the brother to her mate.

    “A wounded lion can never be found asleep.”

    Damon whispered, touching her face tenderly, he heard a gasp emit from her lips, he smiled, she was so damn beautiful.

    “What Is the issue? you can share your thoughts with me.”

    Anna said, her eyes glistened with unwavering affection for the man who had first captured her heart right from the start.

    “I want you……”

    Damon phrased, he stared at her longingly, slowly tracing her lips with his fingers…..slowly and affectionately

    “….but…. I can’t have you. You aren’t mine, the goddess have always been cruel with me, first taking my birth right, then taking one thing I always desired which is you.”

    Damon said, watching as she quivered under his touch, he affected her in so many ways but that was where it all end. His touch on her body was to have a little glimmer of hope.

    “Your birth right wasn’t taken by the goddess, it was taken away from you forcefully by the culture, our tradition took you away from your right and me.”

    Anna said, smiling bitterly as a tear fell off from her tender face.

    “Don’t cry my love. I promise to fight and take you away with me to a far away land, there you will get pregnant for me and bear my pups.”

    Damon said, quickly holding her two cheeks, he smashed his lips on hers.

    The full moon covered their entwined body as they savored each others tongue. Damon wasn’t ready to quit tasting every inch of her mouth, she always tasted like vanilla, the flavor that always draws him closer to her.

    Slowly they detached from each others hold, Anna bent low as she stared down at him.

    “But that can’t happen, you are only lucky to be alive, your brother only keeps you alive because he promised your parents to do so.”

    Anna said, quickly hugging him as she cried sorrowfully.

    “Shhhh, you don’t need to cry, I hate hearing you cry.”

    Damon said, each choke that wobbles out from her lips caused his heart to squeeze with anger.

    “But I can’t be with you.”

    Anna said, staring at him.

    “Perhaps that is our fate, but I promise to be with you always. That is a promise.”

    Damon said, slowly detaching her from his body.

    “You brought more twins to the pack?”

    Damon asked.

    His brother Damien, who was the alpha of the pack immediately after their parents had died always came to the barren land which belongs to his pack whenever there was twins to deliver.

    He was in charge of taking care of this twins which have been brought to the barren land.

    That was the price he had to pay to survive until he leaves the barren land.

    “Yes, your brother brought more twins, since you have been kept alive, there wasn’t a need to kill the last twins in the pack. The pack will term it to be partial. I wish this whole tradition will stop.”

    Anna whispered, but something kept raking in her mind, something terrible which she was about to do.

    “I see, my brother is treating you well?”

    Damon said, staring at her.

    Anna stared at him for a while, slowly closing her eyes, all she could see was light blue eyes which stared back at her in pain.

    How could she forget that day, the first day she had been sent to the banished land to cater for the little twins who have been forcefully taken. Then Damon parents ruled the pack of the Gemini, at first when she saw Damon, she had taught him to be the arrogant son of the alpha who had been wooing her before they found out they were true mates. 

    Later on she realized he was the second twin whose story have been constantly discussed within the pack.

    Damon had captured her heart totally at first sight and It was the same for him too, his bare chest which had shun under the sparkling sun had captivated her teenage self and at that moment she decided he was the one for him, but fate had her ways of playing games. They could not be together, her parents been one of the great elders of the werewolf clan cannot allow her be mated to an abominable child. 

    But that never stopped them from seeing each other, every little chance she had, she would use it to visit the barren land which was almost seven hundred miles when she uses a horse.

    “Anna….you seem lost, is my brother treating you well, if he is not treating you well, I won’t waste a single moment to rip him apart, I don’t care about the consequences.”

    Damon said, glaring down at the threshold that lead to where his twin brother might have been laying.

    “I got carried away by the past. Damien is still Damien.”

    Anna whispered, there wasn’t much to say about the other twin, Damien was an arrogant bastard whom she had been forced to marry.

    “That is not an answer, my brother is an arrogant man who doesn’t know how to treat anyone with respect. I can sue him to death if he ever tried harming you……”

    “Shuuuuu, you need to keep your voice low, your voice might be heard and if that happens, we both will be in a big trouble. Damien will have a reason for detaching your body.”

    Anna said, touching his beards slowly, watching as his breathing calmed down a little. There was something peculiar about this two brothers, they are hot blooded fellow.

    “I am sorry for throwing such an outburst.”

    Damon said, circling her within his arms as he placed his forehead on hers.

    He breathed in her scent slowly and deeply, his one wish was to have her but he could not have her.

    “It’s fine, you care so much for me that is why you threw such an outburst.”

    Anna said, hugging him back.

    “When do you leave with the others.”

    Damon asked, they never stayed less than two days when ever they visited the barren lands, watching her leave the barren land was the hardest thing he had learned to endure.

    “We leave by first light tomorrow morning.”

    Anna said, she felt his breath stopped for a while and she felt her heart broke into pieces.

    “There is a problem.”

    Damon said, still hugging her.

    “There Is always a problem.”

    Anna said, laughing lowly.

    Damon chuckled at her words.

    “Well it is true. We always have problems and I wish for that to stop.”

    Damon said, smiling quite sadly.

    “I won’t see you anymore.”

    Damon said, Anna slowly detached her self from his hug.

    “What do you mean I won’t see you anymore. Are you planning on running away, while I remain with your brother.”

    Anna said, watching as Damon shook his head frantically.

    “No I am not running away. My brother must have suspected our closeness. In the meeting he mentioned something about him coming alone to the barren land from now on and if I ever said a word in the discussion, he will question me and perhaps find the truth about us, then he will hurt you at the end of it, which I don’t want it to happen.”

    Damon said, Anna nodded her head in understanding.

    Damien was a bitch, Anna thought.

    Anna breathed in slowly, there wasn’t any other option left, she will have to do the last thing in her mind.

    “Come let’s have some drink in your chambers, who knows when I will meet you again, maybe In two years or ten years or so.”

    Kira said, leading him to his room in the dark night when no eyes was watching.

    Damon followed after her, he needed a drink to clear his mind off.

    When they reached his room, she dragged him to sit on the wooden bed.

    “I came to your room with wine but I couldn’t find you so I decided to check on you.”

    Anna said, handling him a glass as she filled it with wine, she took a glass for her self, filling it with wine.

    “You came prepared already, hmmm I love the taste of this wine.”

    Damon whispered, gulping the wine at once, the wine was insanely sweet and makes one forget themselves for long.

    “Yes it is, take more, sometimes you got to free your mind by drinking.”

    Anna said, she only but tasted a single drop of the wine.

    “Yes I will, you aren’t drinking?”

    Damon asked, watching as her cup still have a huge amount of wine left in it.

    “Of course I take wine but a little, I am a terrible drinker.”

    Anna said, adding more wine to his cup, watching as he drowned it shakily.

    “I feel drunk already but I need more wine.”

    Damon said, stretching his hands towards the cup.

    Anna smiled down at him, filling his cup with more wine, she quickly walked to close the door, her plans had been activated, this was the last moment she might spend with him, so she had no other option than to make him drunk, she will bear her actions alone. He was drunk and it was time to make him hers, she was not going to regret this when she wakes up the next morning, Never!

    The Alpha’s Destined Mate Chapter 2 Two

    The whole pack gathered around, only consisting of men and women within the range of eighteen since it was considered to be a great welcome, but Alora, the daughter of the alpha of the Gemini pack, was seen, standing with the entire pack which consist only of the people within the age of eighteen but Alora was not eighteen yet, she was two years and a month old, she was a little child, but she had every right to attend to a meeting which was only meant for the grown ups.

     They were awaiting for the arrival of someone who they have been told was unknown, someone who they have been told belonged to the Gemini pack, but was never accepted at birth, because it was an abomination to accept a being like him in the pack. 

    The carriage made a stop, slowly two guards stepped down from the carriage, slowly opening the carriage door, a young man within the age of the alpha stepped down from the carriage, his light blue eyes, was enough to capture the whole attention of the entire pack.

    Then there came a gasp, coming from the pack members, they whispered in hushed tone among themselves, their voices got louder at every minutes they spent staring at the strange but familiar man who stood few feet away from them.

    “Who is he?”

    “Why is he familiar and look just like the alpha”

    “Why is he strange”

    “Who is he”

    The little Alora stood amidst them, she was been carried by her mother, Luna Anna, her few years old self could not understand what was going on in the pack. Not knowing what was going on among the pack, sucked unto her fingers.

    But whatever it was, she could not wait to leave the scene, and instead play with her toys and have a good sleep.

    Anna stared at the second twin, Damon, who had been hidden for years, away from the law which had placed him on a death sentence. 

    But he survived through all odds.

    Damon looked around the whole pack, his eyes in search for a light blue eyes, with thick dark hair just like his. 

    Slowly his eyes met his twin, he stoic form standing amidst the crowd, glaring down at him.

    Alpha Damien was not the type who could accept his twin so quickly into the pack, but that was the rule, a rule given by their parents, when his twin brother who had been hidden away from the law, when he have been crowned the alpha of the pack for three years, then he shall be brought back to stay among the people. Among his fellow pack and he shall not be killed.

    The noise in the pack was getting louder and quickly, alpha Damien turned towards the Beta of the pack, giving him a light stare, Beta Zach understood what he meant, slowly turning to stare at the members of the pack, his eyes filled with anger.

    “Be quiet everyone, the alpha stands with you, yet you cause a chaos among your selves. Please behave!”

    Beta Zach said, and quickly, the whole pack became still at his words, no words were whispered, no words was spoken.

    When the pack became silent, alpha Damien cleared his throat, he knew the whole pack was confused about the new member of the pack, who have a striking resemblance with him. 

    “Welcome Damon, my twin, welcome to the Gemini pack, the pack of our late parents.”

    Alpha Damien said, but his smiles were fake, because he was not happy to accept his twin into the pack.

    Another whispers broke through the entire pack.

    Everyone knew the law, the rule which had taken lives, that it was a crime for a second twin to live, when two twins were born, the younger would be killed and the older will remain living among them.

    But it seems the former alpha and Luna had hidden the second twin away from them, they had not killed him as the rule had said, but not just him, other twins.

    “I know everyone of you is confused, why would a younger twin survive, everyone knew the rule, any twin born in the Gemini pack will have its younger one killed in a second, but, I was not in the position to change what had happened, if I was, I wouldn’t have kept him Alive.”

    Alpha Damien said, glaring at his brother, he hated competition and seeing his brother here felt like a competition.

    “And he is back today, to live among us, but first, he will live like a commoner, he will till the soil like each and every one of you and he will pave a way for himself. But one thing for sure, he would not take my crown, I still remain your alpha.”

    Alpha Damien said, glaring at his brother once more, he walked out from the scene. 

    But not without throwing a glance at Anna, who held their child. 

    Damon stared at the his brother as he left the scene, slowly he turned to stare at Anna who gave him a light stare before quickly leaving the scene.

    Waving his head lightly, he turned toward the carriage, still feeling the heavy stare the pack gave him, some were leaving while some remained standing, whispering in hushed tones. 

    They knew not to anger the alpha by speaking behind his backs, so quickly, they walked out, leaving the alpha twin standing to tender to his business.

    Damon looked around, he had returned only with two bags, which contained his clothes and arrows, his sword was carefully kept behind his torso, making him more dangerous and sexy.

    The guards were not there to help him out, because his brother had commanded that he should not be given any help what so ever.

    Slowly he turned, walking towards the pack mansion, where his brother and family resides. 

    He still has some little right, which was, living in the family’s house.

    As he passed through the corridors, he could hear the whispers which came forth from the pack.

    He waved his head, quickly, turning to the other direct, but instead, a figure came, crashing on him so hard, making the bags he held fall on the floor. 

    Quickly he held the figure from falling, the person who had crashed into him was slender woman, her thick dark hairs cascading on his arms. He had rammed into his twin brother’s wife.

    Quickly, she left his hold, bending her head low. 

    He could feel how she trembled under his stare, he looked surprised, marveled at the sight in front of him.

    She haven’t changed for once, she was still beautiful, slender, yet she looked scared, and for a Luna like her, she had no right to be scared, especially of someone like him. Her first love and a mere wolf who had been detached from his birth right.

    “I am sorry Luna Anna.”

    He said, staring at her, as she still kept her gaze on the floor, hiding her face.

    The Alpha’s Destined Mate Chapter 3 Three

    Anna looked down, she knew the alpha was watching her, she could feel his intense gaze on her, he watches her, and if she looks up, the mark on her face would be visible, and that was something she never intend on showing to any one.

    “Are you ok Luna Anna?”

    Damon asked, walking closer to his brother’s mate, his love, but quickly, she backed off from him, taking four paces back.

    “I am fine and sorry for not looking.”

    Anna said bluntly, then quickly, she strode out from his presence.

    He watched her as she left his presence.

    Damon closed his eyes for a moment, he was playing the games of been cool with her, he knew his brother was watching and he knew not to put her in danger. Slowly waving his head, he picked up his items, slowly walking to the room which have been prepared for him.

    Anna stepped into the room, her body shook with fear, she knew she could be in another trouble, for talking with her mate’s brother.

    “You spoke with my brother, why?”

    She heard a hard voice said, it was coming from her back, quickly she turned back, her slender form became stoic with fear.

    “I had mistakenly rammed into him, by mistake. I never spoke to him intentionally. You know I wouldn’t.”

    Anna said, hoping she believed him. But Damien was not someone who you could place your hope on, In the bedroom, he was ruthless, a devil, a beater, but In the eyes of the pack, he was the best alpha with a cheerful face. 

    “Why do you think I would believe you, you both once had a thing, also knowing the fact that you had been forced to marry me, so why would I believe you, why do you think I won’t believe the fact that you both were planning on escaping or maybe…..”

    Damien said, striding towards her like a predator, who was about to capture his prey. 

    “You both are planning on committing treason, taking away my crown and making him your alpha.”

    Damien said, Anna gasped at his words, how would the alpha said such foolish words, such insane words.

    She have been forced to marry Damien, who had done nothing but abuse her on a daily basis.

    “Damien, you know I would never do t….”

    Before she could be finish her words, she felt her body, been slammed on the wall, a low scream escaped from her lips. 

    This was the second time he was hitting her for the day and this was not going to be the last either.

    “How dare you lie to my face. How dare you speak back to me.”

    He said, this time he picked her up, throwing her on the bed, quickly mounting on her.

    Anna stepped back, she knew what he was planning on doing.

    “You spoke back to me, how dare you, I am your mate, your half, not that bastard.”

    Alpha Damien said, quickly dragging her legs back, tearing her clothes into shreds.

    Anna cried In pain, she hated him, she hated his guts.

    “Lay low and spread your legs apart now!”

    Damien said, it was few words, which she was meant to obeyed.

    Anna knew she had no option, she knew what would happen to her If she disobeys his words.

    “Please do not do this.”

    Anna begged, Damien was trying to have sex with her, when she was not ready to do so, and she knew if she disobeys his words, he would not hesitate to maybe, slash her throat.

    “NOW!”

    Damien said, glaring at her as he removed the last remnant of his clothes, leaving him standing stark naked In front of her, with his huge length which had instantly became hard, he was a man of no patience and he could not bear the pathetic plead that escaped from her lips.

    Slowly, Anna parted her legs, slowly but widely.

    But as said, Damien was no man of patience because quickly, he pushed her legs apart, quickly opening her legs wider, to his delight, the sight of her clit sent him wild, making his wolf growl with excitement. 

    Anna whimpered weakly, Damien was always a beast, a wild terrible beast and she hated his guts, and there was no option for her than to allow him do what so ever he planned on doing on her.

    Quickly, she felt him thrust his huge length into her, a heavy cry elicited from her lips, she groaned, feeling the heavy thrust he was giving her.

    Damien was not the type of man to do romance, so his pace on her was fast and rough. 

    Quickly dragging her head, trying to elicit more pain from her, this sure made Anna to scream with more pain and he got delighted at it.

    And with a heavy grunt, he cum in her, filling her with his release, he hated her guts, so damn well, and he do have to inform her to whom she belonged to. 

    He hated the fact that his twin was here and his guts kept informing him that his mate would or might run into the hands of his twin, he gritted his teeth, quickly throwing her off the head board as he walked out from the room to the bath.

    He loved her, but there was a feeling that kept cladding in his mind that his mate would leave him for his brother, so the best option was to make her know whom she belonged to.

    Maybe, he could lower Damon and make him look like a threat in the eyes of the entire pack, sure that would make him leave the pack and then he would not have anything to worry of.

    Slowly Anna stepped out from the bed, her thighs still hurt over what the alpha had done to her. 

    Slowly wearing another clothes since the former one had been thorn into shreds.

    Quickly, she walked out from the room, she needed to be far away from him, normally, Damien would hit her until maybe she passed out, but today, he had not just hit her, instead, he had taken her forcefully. 

    She was so lost in thoughts that she did not see a figure coming from the other direction, she groaned in pains, hissing again, thinking she had made a contact with a wall.

  • A Secretive Deal with My Billionaire Boss by Gregory Ellington

    A Secretive Deal with My Billionaire Boss by Gregory Ellington

    Madison Harper knows all too well the chaos Alexander Knight leaves in his wake. As the billionaire CEO’s personal assistant, she’s cleaned up after countless scandals, soothed ex-lovers, and kept his messy private life from spilling into the boardroom. But when one fateful night lands her in Alexander’s bed, the dynamics shift dramatically.

    What begins as a moment of uncontrollable spirals into a neither can resist: Madison needs financial help for her mother’s mounting medical bills, and Alexander offers the resources-on the condition she becomes his girlfriend for a year. No strings, no emotions, just business.

    But as the lines between their professional and private lives blur, Madison’s resolve to keep her heart guarded begins to waver. Beneath Alexander’s reckless charm lies a magnetic that draws her closer than she ever intended. Just as she starts to believe she might be more than his latest “arrangement,” the ghost of Alexander’s long-lost first love, Katherine, reappears, threatening to unravel everything they’ve built.

    Can Madison protect her heart while navigating this high-stakes game of desire and deception? Or will this with her infamously reckless boss cost her more than she’s prepared to lose?

    A Secretive Deal with My Billionaire Boss Chapter 1

    Madison

    I lifted my gaze from the computer screen as the elevator dinged. A woman in a red dress strutted toward me, her heels clicking against the marble floor like a timer counting down to chaos.
    “I’m here to see Alexander.” She planted her manicured hands on my desk, leaning forward with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
    “Do you have an appointment?”
    “I don’t need one. We have… history. Just tell Shim Vanessa’s here.”
    “I’m sorry, but Mr. Knight only takes scheduled appointments. I can help you set one up for next week-“
    “Listen here, little secretary.” She interrupted. “I’m Vanessa Caldwell. I spent the night with Alexander last weekend, and I’m not leaving until I see him.”
    “As I mentioned, without an appointment or express permission from Mr. Knight-“
    “Who do you think you are? Just because you stand next to him all day, fetching his coffee and taking notes, you think you’re special?”
    “Ma’am, I need to ask you to leave-“
    “You’re pathetic. Playing gatekeeper, pretending you matter. I bet you fantasize about him noticing you, don’t you? Honey, even if you spread those thighs on his desk, he wouldn’t give you a second glance. He needs a real woman, not some desperate little assistant playing dress-up in her Target blazer.”
    “Security will escort you out if necessary.”I maintained an expressionless face.
    “You wouldn’t dare. Do you know who my father is? I could have your job with one phone call.”
    “And I could remove you from the premises with one button.” I placed my hand near the security alert under my desk. “Your choice, Ms. Caldwell.”
    Vanessa’s face contorted with rage. In one fluid motion, she snatched the water pitcher from my desk and emptied its contents over my head. Ice-cold water drenched my hair, makeup, and brand-new blouse – for the record, it wasn’t from Target.
    “Oops.” She smirked, dropping the empty pitcher on my keyboard with a clatter. “Looks like someone needs a towel.”
    But before I could process my next move, the elevator dinged again.
    Alexander Knight stepped out, filling the lobby like a storm front. His easy stride faltered as he took in the scene – me looking like a drowned rat, Vanessa preening like a cat who’d gotten the cream, and water pooling across my desk and expensive electronics.
    “Well.” His voice cut through the tension. “This is certainly not the greeting I expected.”
    Vanessa’s face lit up. “Alexander, darling! I was just-“
    “Assaulting my PA and damaging company property?” He crossed to us in three strides. “Bold strategy.”
    “I was simply having a conversation with your PA.” Her voice dripped honey while her eyes stabbed mine. “She refused to let me see you.”
    “Because that’s her job.” Alexander handed me his monogrammed handkerchief. His touch sent an unwanted tingle up my arm. “Miss Harper follows my protocols to the letter. That’s why she’s invaluable.”
    I dabbed at my face, grateful I’d worn waterproof mascara today. The handkerchief smelled like his cologne – a detail I wasn’t focusing on.
    “But darling,” Vanessa stepped closer to Alexander, her hip swaying. “After our magical night together-“
    “You mean the charity gala where you had too much champagne, and I called you a cab? That was hardly magical, though I hear you’ve been telling a different version around town.”
    I bit my lip to hide my smile.
    “I-” Vanessa gaped like a fish.
    “Now,” Alexander’s hand came to rest on my shoulder, and I prayed he couldn’t feel how my pulse jumped. “You’ve just assaulted my favorite employee and probably destroyed about ten thousand dollars worth of equipment. Would you like me to call security or the cops?”
    I felt my cheeks heat at my ‘favorite employee.’ He was always like this-charming, flirtatious, and making everyone feel special. It didn’t mean anything.
    “You wouldn’t dare.” But Vanessa’s confidence wavered.
    “Try me. I protect my people, especially those who keep my life running smoothly. In fact, I should ban you from the building entirely. What do you think, Miss Harper?”
    “I think that sounds reasonable, Mr. Knight.” I stayed professional despite his touch warming me.
    Vanessa’s face cycled through fifty shades of red. “This is ridiculous. You’ll regret this. Both of you will.”
    “The only thing I regret is not having my phone out to record this tantrum. Security’s on their way up. I suggest you leave before they arrive.”
    “My father will hear about this!”
    “I’m sure he will. Give Charles my regards. Tell him his company’s stock is looking shaky these days.”
    As soon as the elevator doors closed on her scowling face, Alexander’s hand left my shoulder, and I immediately missed its warmth – a thought I quickly shoved into my brain’s ‘do not examine’ folder.
    I stood from my chair, water dripping onto the floor.
    “Are you alright?” Alexander’s brow furrowed as he assessed the damage. “She didn’t hurt you, did she?”
    “Just my pride. And maybe my electronics.” I poked at my waterlogged keyboard, which responded with an alarming spark.
    “Leave that. I’ll have IT bring up replacements.” He pulled out his phone. “John can get you to the mall in fifteen minutes. Use the company card to pick up whatever you need-clothes, makeup, hair products.”
    “Thank you, Mr. Knight, but it’s no big deal. My shift ends in an hour, and I have a prior engagement after work.”
    “You’re going to sit in wet clothes for another hour?”
    “I’ll manage,” I insisted with a smile. “But I appreciate the offer.”
    He gave me a look that said he didn’t believe me but nodded anyway.

    I pushed open the door to the restaurant, ready for a relaxing dinner with Hazel after my disaster of a day. The hostess led me toward our usual corner booth, but I stopped short. Instead of just my best friend, a man sat beside her.
    “Mads!” Hazel bounced up, waving like I might miss her in the half-empty restaurant. “You made it! Come meet Derek!”
    I forced a smile and sat across from them. Of course, Hazel would ambush me with a surprise blind date after the day I’d had.
    “Mads, this is Derek. He’s a financial analyst, and I met him at that yoga retreat last month.” Hazel’s eyes sparkled with matchmaking glee. “Derek, meet my best friend Madison.”
    “Pleasure.” Derek flashed perfectly whitened teeth. “Hazel told me so much about you.”
    I resisted the urge to kick Hazel under the table. “All good things, I hope?”
    We fumbled through awkward small talk about the weather and restaurant specials until Derek excused himself to the restroom.
    The moment he was out of earshot, Hazel pounced. “Isn’t he dreamy? Those shoulders! And he’s so successful – you should see his condo downtown.”
    “Haze…”
    “Come on, when did you last go on a real date? You work too hard, sweetie. Everyone needs someone to lean on.”
    “I’m fine on my own right now. With Mom’s treatments and everything…”
    “How is she doing?” Hazel’s expression softened.
    “The same. The new medication is expensive, but…” I shrugged.
    “And that brother of yours is still MIA?” Hazel’s face darkened. “What a selfish asshole, leaving you to handle everything alone.”
    “I don’t want to talk about him. Mom worked three jobs to raise us. The least I can do is help her now.”
    Derek slid back into the booth, adjusting his designer tie. “Sorry about that. Now, where were we?”
    “Madison was just telling us about her day at work,” Hazel chirped.
    “Oh, right – you work as a secretary or something?” Derek asked.
    “Personal assistant to Alexander Knight at Knight Industries.”
    “Alexander Knight? The CEO?” He leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Must be quite the… demanding position.”
    “Excuse me?”
    “Come on, we all know how these things work.” He winked. “Beautiful young woman, powerful executive-I’m sure you’ve found ways to make yourself invaluable to the company.”
    Hazel’s jaw dropped. “Derek!”
    “What? I’m just saying what everyone thinks when they see these arrangements.” He gestured vaguely at me. “No judgment here. A girl’s got to use her assets.”
    “You absolute pig.” Hazel’s face flushed red. “Get out.”
    “Hey, I’m just being honest. No need to get defensive-“
    “Out!” Hazel stood up, pointing toward the door. “Now.”
    “Alright, alright. Guess some people can’t handle the truth.” He slid out of the booth, adjusting his jacket. “Call me when you’re ready to be real about things.”
    We watched him weave between tables toward the exit. Hazel collapsed back into her seat, mortified.
    “Oh my god, Mads. I am so, so sorry. I can’t believe I thought he was decent. He seemed so nice at yoga!”
    “Hey, at least we found out he was trash before the appetizers arrived.” I grabbed the menu, determined to salvage our evening. “Now, about those loaded nachos we always get…”
    “But still! The things he said about you and Mr. Knight!” She shook her head. “I feel awful.”
    “Forget him. Seriously.” I waved down a waiter. “The nachos and two margaritas, please. Make mine a double.”
    Hazel brightened with mischief. “Although, maybe Derek had a point. Not about you being – you know – but about Mr. Knight liking you. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”
    I choked on my water, sputtering. “What? No! That’s – that’s impossible. He’s my boss!”
    “Why not? You’re smart, gorgeous, and he’s clearly interested.”
    “Stop it!” I grabbed a napkin to wipe my chin. “It’s not like that at all.”
    Hazel burst out laughing. “Relax, I’m kidding! Everyone knows Alexander Knight is Manhattan’s most notorious playboy. Different supermodels every week, yacht parties in Monaco.” She leaned forward. “Just be careful, okay? Don’t let that pretty face and charm fool you. Men like him don’t do relationships – they collect trophies.”
    “Trust me, I know exactly who he is.” My phone buzzed.
    I pulled out my phone to check the message. Alexander’s name flashed on the screen.
    “325 Park Avenue, Penthouse. Come now.”
    No explanation, no context. Typical Alexander.
    “Everything okay?” Hazel peered across the table.
    “Work.” I grabbed my purse, already sliding out of the booth. “Rain check on those nachos?”
    “Again? This is getting ridiculous. It’s almost 8 PM!”
    “I know, I know. But-“
    “But nothing! You’re not his personal servant. You have a life, too. What could possibly be so urgent?”
    “It’s probably another last-minute networking event. He does this sometimes-invites potential investors over for drinks. Someone has to coordinate with catering and handle the guest list.”
    “And that someone always has to be you?”
    “It’s my job.”
    “Your job ended three hours ago.” Hazel’s voice softened. “I worry about you, you know?”
    “I know you worry. But this job – the benefits, the salary – it’s helping Mom fight. I can’t risk losing it.”
    “Just be careful, okay?”
    I nodded, already halfway to the door. The cool night air hit my face as I flagged down a cab.
    The cab wound through Manhattan’s glittering streets. Mom’s medical bills haunted me, mounting higher each month. I couldn’t mess this up. Not when she needed me.
    325 Park Avenue loomed ahead, all gleaming glass and steel stretching into the night sky. The doorman nodded as I crossed the marble lobby to the private elevator. My finger hesitated over the penthouse button. Something felt… off.
    Usually, when Alexander hosted impromptu gatherings, the lobby buzzed with activity-caterers rushing supplies, guests arriving in designer suits and cocktail dresses. Tonight, there was silence.
    My heels clicked against the marble floor as I stepped out, echoing through the empty space. Warm lighting spilled across modern furniture and floor-to-ceiling windows, showcasing the city’s sparkle below.
    “Mr. Knight?”
    No response. Just the soft whir of the central air.
    The hair on my neck stood up. Something definitely wasn’t right.
    A floorboard creaked behind me.
    I spun around, heart hammering. Alexander stood there, leaning casually against the doorframe.
    He stepped forward, closing the distance between us in three long strides. Before I could react, he had me cornered against the wall, one hand braced beside my head.

    A Secretive Deal with My Billionaire Boss Chapter 2

    Madison

    His presence was intoxicating. Alexander’s cologne wrapped around me, lingering like dark spices and something earthy. My pulse quickened as he leaned in, our faces just inches apart.
    “You’re here,” he murmured.
    “Mr. Knight, what’s going on?” My voice trembled. I placed a hand on his chest, meaning to push him back, but all I felt was the chiseled muscles under his shirt.
    He took my hand, interlacing his fingers with mine and pressing them back against the wall. The heat from his touch was electric, coursing straight to my core. My breathing turned shallow, and my heart thudded in my ears. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide.
    “You’re really here.” He whispered huskily. His gaze swept my face, lingering on my lips as his breath warmed my cheek.
    “Are you… okay?” I stammered. His pupils seemed larger than normal, almost swallowing the blue of his irises. Something felt off. Was he on drugs?
    “I’m more than okay.” He nuzzled against my neck, lips brushing my skin. “You’re perfect.”
    “I think you might need medical assistance-“
    He didn’t let me finish. His mouth captured mine, and the world tilted on its axis. The kiss was fierce, desperate, and filled with a hunger that took my breath away. His free hand found my waist, pulling me against him.
    The sensible part of my brain screamed for me to push him away, to get help. But then his tongue parted my lips, and my knees went weak. I grabbed onto his shoulders to steady myself, my fingers digging into the fine fabric of his suit.
    His kiss grew more intense, leaving me scarcely able to think or breathe. A moan escaped my lips.
    My hands roamed over his shoulders and back, feeling the hard muscles flex beneath my touch. His grip on my waist tightened, lifting me effortlessly.
    Before I knew it, he maneuvered me backward, guiding me toward the bedroom. We stumbled, our lips never parting, until the back of my knees hit the king-sized bed. He gently pushed me onto the mattress, positioning himself above me. His eyes were wild.
    “Off,” he said, tugging at my blouse.
    I fumbled with the buttons. Finally, I managed to undo the fabric and slip out of it.
    His gaze darkened, and he pulled down the cups of my bra.
    He bent down, and I arched up, gasping.
    His free hand roamed lower, slipping under the waistband of my pants. A sharp jolt shot through me.
    “Fuck,” I moaned, my fingers threading through his hair, holding him to my chest.
    With one swift motion, he tugged my pants and panties down my legs. His hands spread my thighs apart. I cried out.
    “You’re so ready,” he muttered, almost to himself.
    Before I could respond, I watched, breathless, as he quickly moved to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. He didn’t bother removing his clothes.
    He climbed between my legs, and I squirmed.
    He moved against me, and my nails dug into his back.
    His mouth crashed against mine in a desperate kiss. His hands gripped my hips as our bodies moved together, mingling with our groans and panting breaths.
    “God, you feel incredible,” he growled, breath hot and ragged.
    We moved together. I felt the pressure building. He angled his hips, and I cried out, my entire body tensing.
    “I’m close, Alexander,” I gasped, my nails raking down his back.
    My voice seemed to spur him on, his movements growing even more frenzied. I clutched at the sheets, trying to ground myself.
    “Yes,” he groaned, his pace becoming erratic. “Come for me.”
    His encouragement drove me over the edge. With a final scream, I shattered, waves washing over me as he continued moving with me through it.
    It was then, just as the intensity began to wane, that I heard him mutter, “Fuck, Katherine.”
    I froze. My mind reeled. Katherine?! Who the hell was Katherine?
    But I couldn’t dwell on it for long because he was still moving with me. My overstimulated body responded despite my confusion, another wave already building.
    “Katherine, you feel so good.” He drove into me one last time, with a guttural moan. His body trembled, triggering another wave that left me breathless and shaking.
    As the haze faded, reality sank in. Alexander had called another woman’s name while we were together. He didn’t even know who I was.
    As he collapsed next to me on the bed, his breathing heavy, I stared at the ceiling, my mind racing. Who was Katherine? Did she work for him, too, or was she just one of his many conquests? The thought gnawed at me like a persistent itch I couldn’t scratch.
    I slipped out from under his arm, my legs still trembling. Alexander’s soft snores filled the bedroom as I gathered my scattered clothes. Of course, he’d pass out – typical man. At least he hadn’t called me “baby” or some other generic pet name. No, he’d gone with “Katherine” instead.
    I stumbled to the bathroom, wincing at my reflection. My carefully straightened hair now resembled a bird’s nest, and my lipstick… well, that was definitely not where lipstick should be.
    As I cleaned up, my mind wandered to the stack of NDAs in my desk drawer – all the women who’d crossed paths with Alexander Knight.
    “At least I didn’t have to draft my own NDA,” I muttered. Being Alexander’s PA meant cleaning up his messes and arranging flowers and “sorry” gifts for the parade of models and socialites he left in his wake. But Katherine? That name wasn’t in any of my files.
    I smoothed down my outfit and checked my phone – 10:27 PM. The doctor would still be awake. I scrolled through my contacts, finding Dr. Peterson’s number. My thumb hovered over the call button as Alexander’s snores echoed from the bedroom.
    “Dr. Peterson? Sorry to bother you so late.” I kept my voice steady and professional. “It’s Madison Harper, Mr. Knight’s PA.”
    “What’s he done now?” Dr. Peterson sighed.
    “He seems altered. Dilated pupils, unusual behavior. I found him like this when I came to drop off some urgent paperwork.” The lie slipped out easily. Too easily.
    “Drugs?”
    “Possibly. He’s sleeping now, but-“
    “I’ll be there in twenty.”
    “Thank you, Doctor.” I ended the call and slipped my phone into my pocket.
    Back in the bedroom, Alexander sprawled across the unmade bed like a fallen Greek statue, suit wrinkled and pants still undone.
    “Right. Time to make you presentable.” I surveyed the scene. The nightstand had shifted a foot to the left. A decorative vase teetered on the edge – how had we not broken that?
    I approached Alexander’s sleeping form. “Don’t you dare wake up,” I muttered, reaching for his zipper. My fingers trembled as I worked quickly to tuck in his shirt and fasten his pants. The belt proved trickier – threading it through the loops while he was dead weight required some creative maneuvering.
    His head lolled to the side. “Mmm… Katherine…”
    I yanked the belt tight with more force than necessary. “Yeah, yeah. Katherine. Whoever she is.”
    The doorbell rang. Shit. Dr. Peterson was early.
    I sprinted to straighten the nightstand, shoving it back into place. A quick scan of the room – nothing else seemed obviously disturbed. I grabbed a pillow and wedged it under Alexander’s head, trying to make it look like he’d dozed off.
    Dr. Peterson strode in, medical bag in hand. “Evening, Ms. Harper.”
    “Doctor. Thank you for coming so quickly.” I gestured to Alexander. “I found him like this when I came to drop off some urgent documents.”
    The doctor knelt beside the bed, checking Alexander’s pulse. “Any idea what he might have taken?”
    “None. He seemed… not himself.” Understatement of the century. “Dilated pupils, erratic behavior.”
    Dr. Peterson lifted Alexander’s eyelids, shining a small light. “Probably some party drug. Though it’s unlikely for him to indulge alone.”
    “Should I call security? His driver?”
    “No need. I’ll stay until he comes around.” He pulled out a blood pressure cuff. “You should head home, Ms. Harper. I’ve got it from here.”
    I nodded, gathering my purse. “Of course. Thank you again.”
    I hurried to the elevator, my reflection in the metal doors nearly composed except for my swollen lips and flushed cheeks.
    The night air slapped my face as I hailed a cab, needing to get home and think.
    “Where to?” the driver asked.
    “Anywhere but here.” I caught his concerned look in the rearview mirror. “Sorry. 42nd and 8th, please.”
    As the city lights blurred past, I wondered how I’d face Alexander tomorrow. Would he remember? And more importantly – who the hell was Katherine?

    A Secretive Deal with My Billionaire Boss Chapter 3

    Madison

    I woke up feeling like I’d been hit by a truck – a very sexy, Alexander Knight-shaped truck. My body ached in places I’d forgotten existed, and my inner thighs bore the telltale bruises of last night’s activities.
    “Get it together, Madison,” I muttered to my reflection as I applied concealer under my eyes. Despite my best makeup efforts, the woman staring back looked debauched.
    The subway ride to work was torture. Every bump and sway reminded me of how Alexander had moved inside me. How his hands had gripped my hips. How he’d called me Katherine.
    Katherine. The name bounced around my skull like an angry ping-pong ball.
    I’d spent half the night googling “Katherine Alexander Knight” with zero results. Not that I was jealous or anything. I mean, why would I be jealous of someone whose name my boss moaned while high on God-knows-what?
    The elevator ride up to the office felt longer than usual. I checked my phone seventeen times in thirty seconds, praying there wouldn’t be a message from Alexander. Nothing. Thank God.
    I peeked into Alexander’s office. Empty. The relief that flooded through me was embarrassing.
    Collapsing into my chair, I buried my face in my hands. “This is fine. Everything’s fine. He probably doesn’t even remember. And if he does, well… I’ll just move to Antarctica. I hear they need secretaries there.”
    My phone buzzed. I jumped so hard that my knee slammed into the desk drawer.
    I rubbed my throbbing knee while checking the message. Just a spam email about enlarging body parts I didn’t possess.
    The morning crawled by in a haze of paranoia. Every footstep in the hallway had me tensing like a guilty teenager. By ten, my neck muscles felt like steel cables from constantly whipping around to check the door.
    My coffee mug sat empty, mocking me. I needed caffeine.
    I grabbed my mug and power-walked to the break room. I beelined for the coffee maker, already tasting that sweet salvation.
    “Madison! Just the person I wanted to see!”
    I nearly dropped my mug. Stella from Accounting materialized beside me, grinning like she’d just discovered tax evasion in the company books.
    “Hey, Stella.” I focused on pouring coffee, willing my hands not to shake.
    “So,” She leaned against the counter, eyes twinkling. “Hot date last night?”
    Coffee sloshed over the rim. “What? No. Why would you-“
    “That’s quite the love bite you’re sporting.” She pointed at my neck, smirking. “Unless you’ve taken up wrestling in your spare time?”
    My free hand flew to my neck. Horror dawned as I felt the tender spot just below my ear. The spot where Alexander had marked me like some overenthusiastic vampire.
    My mind raced faster than my morning subway ride. “Oh, this? My curling iron. Total klutz moment this morning.” I forced a laugh that came out like a strangled cat.
    “Must be some curling iron. Looks more like someone was trying to-“
    “Would you look at the time!” I glanced at my naked wrist, where a watch definitely wasn’t. “Those expense reports won’t file themselves!”
    “But you haven’t finished your coffee-“
    I abandoned my half-filled mug on the counter, speed-walking toward the exit with all the grace of a newborn giraffe. My heels clicked against the tile floor in what felt like morse code for “Help me!”
    I collapsed into my desk chair, heart pounding like I’d just run a marathon in heels. My hands trembled as I tried to pull myself together. What was I thinking? Curling iron? Really? I might have said it was a one-night stand. That would have been slightly more believable. God, a one-night stand would be even worse.
    Rumors about Alexander and me have been circulating since I became his PA. It was bad enough that I landed this position after being in the company for a short time.
    Everyone thought I’d slept my way to the top, that I’d spread my legs for him to get ahead. Despite all my hard work, the whispers never stopped.
    Colleagues who used to be friends now barely make eye contact with me. Their hushed conversations stop whenever I enter the room, replaced by forced smiles and awkward silence.
    Although I didn’t initially want this job, I took it because of the high salary necessary to cover my mom’s medical expenses.
    But now? The situation was an absolute mess. If anyone found out what happened last night, they’d think the rumors were true. They’d believe I used my body to climb the social ladder, something I would never do.
    No one could find out that Alexander and I had slept together. The very thought twisted my stomach into knots. I prayed Alexander would forget it all, erasing the memory as if it never happened.
    Of course, I knew I couldn’t hide from him forever. Sooner or later, I’d have to report to him for work. But I was convinced the doctor would tell him nothing happened. And even if he remembered something, he’d go to Katherine.
    Every woman Alexander slept with wanted to be his wife. So if he asked Katherine if she was with him the other night, she’d definitely say yes to get closer to him.

    The conference room felt smaller than usual as I arranged the meeting materials, hyper-aware of Alexander’s presence at the head of the table. My hands trembled as I distributed the financial reports, careful to keep my eyes glued to the papers.
    “Everyone here?” Alexander’s voice sent shivers down my spine. The same voice that had whispered things in my ear two days ago.
    I risked a glance up. Fatal mistake.
    His eyes caught mine, and suddenly, I was back in his penthouse, feeling his hands on my skin and his breath hot against my neck. My face burned hotter than fresh coffee.
    “Miss Harper?”
    I jumped, nearly dropping the remaining reports. “Yes, Mr. Knight?”
    “The quarterly projections?”
    Right. Work. Professional. I could do this. I shuffled through my papers, willing my racing heart to calm down.
    “Here they are.” My voice came out squeakier than a mouse in a cheese factory.
    Alexander’s brow furrowed. “Are you feeling alright? You look flushed.”
    Of course, I looked flushed.
    “Just warm in here.” I tugged at my collar, accidentally exposing the fading mark on my neck.
    His eyes flickered to the spot, then back to the reports without recognition. Nothing. Not even a flicker of remembrance about our passionate night together.
    The meeting droned on. I took notes mechanically, sneaking glances at Alexander between bullet points. He was completely at ease, discussing profit margins like he hadn’t rocked my world two days ago.
    The meeting finally ended, but my relief was short-lived. Alexander beckoned me into his office with a crook of his finger. My legs turned to jelly as I followed him inside.
    He settled into his leather chair like a king on his throne while I hovered near the door like a guilty teenager. The morning sun through the tall windows bathed him in an angelic glow. Unfair. The man looked like he’d just stepped out of a magazine photoshoot while I fought the urge to bolt.
    “Close the door, Miss Harper.”
    I did, my hand trembling slightly on the handle. This was it. He remembered everything and was about to fire me. Or worse, proposition me. I wasn’t sure which scenario terrified me more.
    “Take a seat.” He gestured to the chair across from his desk.
    I perched on the edge, ready to sprint at a moment’s notice. The leather squeaked beneath me, betraying my nervousness.
    Alexander shuffled some papers on his desk, his expression unreadable. My heart performed an Olympic-worthy gymnastics routine in my chest.
    “I noticed something concerning.” He looked up, those blue eyes piercing right through me.
    He remembered everything. I’d be fired, humiliated, and probably end up on some reality TV show called ‘I Slept With My Boss.’
    “You didn’t check in yesterday when I was absent.”
    Wait, what? Of all the things he could’ve brought up, he chose this?
    “As my PA, I expect you to maintain contact, especially during unexpected absences.” His tone carried that signature Alexander Knight authority, making board members squirm and competitors sweat.
    My mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. How exactly was I supposed to respond? ‘Sorry I didn’t check in; I was too busy having an existential crisis after our intense encounter where you called me another woman’s name’?
    “I apologize, Mr. Knight. I thought…” I thought you were sleeping off whatever happened between us. I thought you needed space. I thought a lot of things, none of which I could say out loud.
    “You thought?” Alexander’s piercing gaze made my brain cells commit mass suicide.
    “I thought… well…” My mouth went drier than the Sahara. What could I say?
    A phone’s shrill ring cut through the tension. The ringtone echoed through his office like a chorus of angels. Thank you, merciful universe!