Novels by Mercywrites

Andrew pov Power demands sacrifice.I sacrificed my conscience long ago—it’s too messy, too distracting. Obedience is the only currency I accept now. But one thing stops is certain——Obedience is something you own and have to make sure you don’t transfer ownership. Tonight isn’t just another networking event. It’s a battlefield— one that is lit with crystal chandeliers and threatening toasts. The men in this room don’t just own companies. They own consequences. I’ve watched them ruin legacies with a smile and build empires over the bones of rivals.Their hands are soft. Manicured. The same hands that sign billion-dollar deals have ended bloodlines, quietly.They’re selfish, it’s something that makes them worthy of my space. This, is the kind of environment I function. I needed to be married before the next stage of the merger was signed off."You’ll have to marry our daughter," the old scrawny bastard had said like it was a rule in the merger. I’d laughed, refused and called h

Ch 4:Wolves. “Smile,” he murmurs. “We’re in the wolves’ den now.”The doors open, and the flashbulbs explode.I flinch, momentarily blinded. It’s not just bright—it’s assaulting, like someone hurled a thousand paparazzi suns into my face. I blink furiously, the chaotic strobe searing into my retinas like I’ve just stepped onto the red carpet at the Met Gala mid-scandal. “Mr.Throne can you please introduce your wife?.”“Mr.Throne when did you meet your wife?.”“Is this a business plan or love?.”Cameras, voices, questions—all crashing together like a wave I never asked to stand in front of.Andrew’s hand is already at the small of my back, steering me forward with the casual control of someone who’s done this too many times to flinch.My heels click against the marble floor as we enter the gala. It’s confusing—gold-toned gowns, billion-dollar watches, the air thick with money and manipulation. A chandelier glitters above like it’s watching me. I force my mouth into something that

The first thing I felt was the pounding in my skull.I opened my eyes slowly immediately assaulted by filtered sunlight streaming through sheer curtains. I groan and roll onto my other side away from the sun—judgmental spotlight. I groan and roll onto my other side, turning away from the sun——and nearly scream.There’s a figure in the bed beside me.A person. Sprawled out, half-buried in the blanket, a mess of long, dark hair completely obscuring their face like something straight out of a low-budget horror movie.Then the figure groans. The hair shifts just enough for me to catch a glimpse of a familiar scowl.“Oh my God, Cassidy,” I exhale, dropping back onto the pillow. “You scared the crap out of me.” I mutter to myself because she wasn’t awake. Relaxing back on the sheets which are too soft to belong anywhere I could afford.I shut my eyes the migraine acting up again. My mouth tasted of tequila—oh my gosh. “I’m married!.” I scream sitting up too fast. A spike of pain lance t

“Whenever you’re ready.” the officiator tells us tiredly, his voice telling me this is not his first nor twelfth wedding of today. “I can’t believe this is happening.” I mutter feeling my stomach knot. Is this what they call wedding blues? I tighten the hold on my flowers. “I can’t believe this is happening!.” Cassy yells excited from behind me fixing my white sparkly gown—it’s not nothing dramatic, just a simple but stunning silk slip that shimmered faintly in the soft light. This was happening. Fast. Real. I stand in front of this impossibly good looking stranger and I’m able to see his face—in bright light now. I nod at the man on the alter, telling him I’m ready ignoring the hammering of my heart. The officiant glanced at the paperwork, then looked up with a practiced smile.“Andrew Thorne, please repeat after me…”I froze. Andrew. That was the name of the man I was marrying. The stranger who got me in this reckless mess. His eyes met mine—calm but unreadable. What is he t

“Whenever you’re ready,” the officiator tells us tadjusting his robe properly, his voice telling me this is not his first nor twelfth wedding of today. “I can’t believe this is happening,” I mutter, inhaling deeply to relieve my stomach knot. Is this what they call wedding blues? I tighten the hold on my flowers. “I can’t believe this is happening!” Cassy yells from behind me, she’s fixing my white sparkly gown—it’s not anything dramatic, just a simple but stunning silk slip that shimmered faintly in the soft light. This is happening. Fast. Real. I stand in front of this impossibly good-looking stranger, and I’m able to see his face—in bright light now. I nod at the man on the altar, telling him I’m ready, ignoring the hammering of my heart. The officiant scanned the paperwork, then looked up with a practiced smile.“Andrew Thorne, please repeat after me…” Andrew. That was the name of the man I was marrying.His voice is steady, deep, like velvet wrapped around a blade. I don’t

Adolf Hitler the second said “Your life can change in a second.” Now I believe that statement, I also believe that it’s Adolf Hitler words. The coffee is out of the jar, into the air and landing directly on his face before I could think twice. The scrawny man screeches so loud the whole restaurant stops, eyes on us. “You sick bitch! You poured me hot coffee!” The nerve of him…“You grabbed my breast” I spat out, my chest heaving, tears gathering at the rim of my eyes waiting to fall. My manager dashed out faster that I have ever seen him respond. Straight at us. Long story short…I am Fired. I am the one who gets assaulted and also fired for retaliating. Hey there, my name is Celina and I am a broke twenty two year old. I am pushing through the scratch doors of O’Malley drenched to the tip of my shoes. The warm, bitter stench of whiskey and crowd perfume fills my lungs. Reminding me that no matter how life gets shitty, O’Malley will always be open. Fuck today, Fuck my mana