Zara Castellano doesn’t cry. She doesn’t beg. She doesn’t love. As the only daughter of the most feared mafia family on the East Coast, Zara was raised to command armies and slit throats in silence. At twenty-three, she’s spoiled, dangerous, and untouchable. Men want her. Enemies fear her. And everyone obeys her. Everyone… except Lucien Blake. A self-made billionaire with no allegiance to blood or bullets, Lucien becomes the pawn in a deadly marriage contract—one that ties him to a woman he’s never met but already loathes. Zara doesn’t want a husband. She wants a pet. A toy. A man she can dominate. Lucien isn’t used to bowing. But this time, saying “no” means death. Thrown into a marriage forged by blood and greed, the two clash like fire and ice. Zara pushes. Lucien resists. But behind every fight is a heat they can’t escape—and a twisted attraction that might just destroy them both. Zara doesn’t believe in love. She believes in control. And now, she owns a man who refuses to break. “You don’t have to love me, Lucien. You just have to kneel when I say so.” NOTE: If you’ve read my other books, you know my women bite back and my men bleed beautifully for them. Married to a Monster flips the classic dark romance—this time, the monster wears red lipstick and diamond stilettos. Expect power games, obsession, hate that turns to heat, and a heroine you’ll love to fear. This story contains dominance, manipulation, dark secrets, and psychological warfare—but always consensual. Trigger Warnings: Violence, dark themes, emotional manipulation, power imbalance, sexual tension, sex, obsession. Tags: Mafia Princess, Billionaire Husband, Enemies to Lovers, Forced Marriage, Dominant Heroine, Dark Romance, Power Couple.
View MoreSOLD TO THE BILLIONAIRE
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WARNING !!
This book contains detailed descriptions of sexual activity, including BDSM, kink, power dynamics, and scenes that may involve non-consensual or dubiously consensual encounters. These scenes can be intense and may be distressing to some readers. Reader discretion is strongly advised.
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Suot ni Eleanor ang isang seksing itim na gown. Hapit na hapit ito sa kanyang katawan, kaya kitang kita ang kurba ng kan'yang beywang. Bukod pa rito, pinuno siya ni Don Constantino ng mga alahas– tunay man o peke, ay dumagdag ito sa kan'yang kagandahan.
Mabilis ang tibok ng puso niya nang tawagin siya ni Don Constantino, ang totoo ay wala siyang ediya kung bakit sila nasa ganitong lugar. Ang tanging sinabi lang sa kan'ya ng Don ay magtatrabaho siya para rito. Magtatrabaho. Pero ano ang ibig sabihin nito? "Bilisan mo!" utos nito na agad niyang sinunod kahit pa nangangatog ang mga tuhod. Nang nasa harap na siya ng Don, ay hinila siya nito palabas ng backstage. Sinalubong siya ng spotlight na nakatapat mismo sa kan'ya. Nakakasilaw, ngunit nakikita parin ni Eleanor ang napakaraming tao sa harap ng entablado, sa harap niya – karamihan ay matatandang lalaki at tila mayayaman."Our main course for tonight!" anunsyo ni Don Constantino sa mikropono na lalong nagpaexcite sa buong lugar. Hindi niya maintindihan. Gulong-gulo ang isipan niya, ngunit sa kabila ng takot, nangingibabaw ang kanyang taglay na ganda. Para siyang isang anghel na naligaw sa impyerno. "For the starting price… five million pesos!" sigaw ng isang lalaki sa tabi ni Don Constantino."Ten million!" ang sagot ng isang matandang lalaki, mabilis pa sa alaskwarto itong tumayo gamit ang kan'yang baston. "Fifteen million!" sa pagkakataong ito, isang matabang lalaki ang sumigaw, habang pinupunasan ang pawis sa noo. Bakit? Bakit nagsisigawan ng ganoong kalalaking halaga? Saan papunta ang lahat ng ito? Napalingon siya kay Don Constantino, at doon niya nakita ang pilyong ngiti nito. Ibinebenta ba niya ako? Bigla siyang hinintakutan, parang binuhusan ng nagyeyelong tubig na nagdulot ng panlalamig sa kanyang buong katawan. Hindi siya makagalaw at tila naparalisa sa takot. Sa bawat presyong sinisigaw, ay mas lalong pagpapadagdag ang kan'yang kaba. "Twenty million!" "Twenty-five million!" Ang lugar na iyon ay naging isang palengke, at para siyang panindang pinag-aagawan ng mga lalaking hayok sa laman."One billion!" Katahimikan. Nabingi ang lahat, kasama na si Eleanor. Lahat ng mata ay bumaling sa pinanggalingan ng boses. Sa isang tabi, sa pinakataas, may isang lalaking nakasuot ng itim na polo. Dahan-dahan itong bumaba, ang mga yapak lamang nito ang tangin ingay na naririnig sa buong lugar."One Billion?" tanong ni Don Constanstino na nanlalaki ang mata at hindi makapaniwala sa narinig."She's mine!" hanggang sa tuluyan na itong nakababa at nasa harap na mismo ni Eleanor. Si Knight Andrie, isa sa pinakamayamang lalaki sa buong Pilipinas. Isa itong bilyonaryo na hindi dahil sa pamana kundi purong pagsisikap. Meron itong fiancée na siyang hahanapan niya ng pangregalo sa auction na ito. Ngunit ibang hiyas ang pumukaw sa kan'yang atensyon. Na para bang sa unang tingin ay nabihag kaagad ng magandang dalaga ang mga kan'yang mga mata. Si Eleanor naman ay hindi makapaniwala, nasa harap niya ang isang napakakisig na lalaki, hindi katandaan at hindi rin mukhang hayok sa laman. "Eleanor Lualhati, a virgin probinsyana, Sold to the Billionaire!"Zara’s POVThe silence in the mansion felt like punishment. The marble halls, once echoing with Lucien’s brisk steps and her clipped heels, now sat in a hush thick enough to choke on. She had known things were getting bad — the whispers, the canceled deals, the hollow look in Lucien’s eyes — but when she walked into his study that morning and saw the unopened letters stacked in a trembling pile, she finally understood what “falling” looked like.Lucien sat behind his desk, elbows propped on his knees, head buried in his hands. The man who once commanded boardrooms with a glance looked small. Vulnerable.“Lucien?” she whispered.He didn’t look up. “It’s gone, Zara.”Her brows furrowed. “What’s gone?”He looked up then — those storm-blue eyes raw with a pain that frightened her. “Everything. The contracts, the investors, the shares. The accounts are frozen. My reputation’s in shambles. They’ve linked my name to Enzo’s laundering case and… no one wants to do business with me anymore.”He
ZARA’S POVThe sound of sirens was the first thing that tore through the silence.She woke up to pounding on the door—harsh, angry fists against the wood, echoing through the penthouse. Her heart dropped. Lucien wasn’t even out of bed when she reached for her robe, pulling it tight against her trembling body.“Zara Moretti Black?”“Yes?”“You’re under arrest for the murder of Dr. Morgan.”Her world tilted.“What?” she breathed, but the men in black suits didn’t flinch. Their badges glimmered under the morning light. For a moment, she thought she was dreaming—until she saw the handcuffs.Lucien stepped forward, half-dressed, eyes wide. “What the hell is going on?” he barked.“Sir, please step aside.”Zara’s throat closed. Her mind screamed that this couldn’t be real—she hadn’t even seen Dr. Morgan in days. But one of the agents pulled out a photo from a folder: a screenshot of her car parked outside his office last night.“That’s not possible,” she whispered. “I wasn’t there.”Lucien’s
Zara woke to the sound of her name.A rough whisper. Urgent. Breaking through her half-sleep like a storm.“Zara… wake up.”Lucien’s voice.Heavy, shaken, and tight like he’d been holding it together for hours.Her eyes fluttered open, disoriented by the dull light filtering through the hotel curtains. She sat up slowly, realizing she’d fallen asleep on the couch in her robe. Her laptop was still open, pages of encrypted files glowing on the screen — the ones she and Adrian had spent all night decrypting.“What time is it?” she murmured, rubbing her temple.Lucien didn’t answer right away. He just stood there, jaw clenched, eyes dark and distant.“What happened?”He swallowed hard, then finally said it:“Dr. Morgan’s been shot. In his office.”The world seemed to tilt.Her fingers froze mid-air.“What?”“They found him early this morning,” Lucien said. “Shot twice in the chest. No signs of forced entry. It looks… professional.”Zara’s pulse quickened. “No, that’s not possible. He—he w
ZARA’S POVThe mansion felt heavier tonight.Not quiet — just heavy. The kind of silence that presses against your ribs until it’s hard to breathe.Zara stood by the tall window, the moonlight cutting across her face. Her reflection looked like a stranger — sharp, cold, and a little too calm for someone whose world had just imploded.Her father had released her brother. That should’ve been a relief.It wasn’t.He hadn’t done it out of mercy — Don Enzo never did anything without motive. He wanted to watch, to see how far she would go, to test how much of him existed in her.She was still trembling from their last confrontation.The way his voice had dropped, almost a whisper:“You are more like me than you think.”That line wouldn’t stop replaying in her head.She hated that he was right — at least a little.Because when she looked at herself now, she didn’t see the girl who had cried for love, or the one who flinched at blood.She saw someone who had survived betrayal, death, and madn
L U C I E NThree days.That’s how long it had been since Zara vanished. Three fucking days of sleepless nights, unanswered calls, and reports that led to nothing but dead ends and half-truths.Every hour she was gone, I unraveled more.I had searched every safehouse, every penthouse she could’ve possibly run to. The mansion felt like a tomb without her. Even the walls whispered her name, accusing me, reminding me of every way I’d failed her—again.When I finally found her, she was in a hotel by the coast. Small, discreet, expensive enough to ensure privacy but not enough to raise attention. She’d checked in under a false name—her mother’s maiden name.The same mother now haunting her through secrets and letters.I stood outside her door, hand clenched around the keycard the manager had “accidentally” given me. My chest was heavy, but I wasn’t sure if it was guilt or longing—or both.When I pushed the door open, the room smelled like her. Vanilla and smoke.She stood by the window, wr
The estate was silent when they brought him in.Two guards dragged the boy—no, not quite a boy—through the marble hallway that had seen more secrets than prayers. His wrists were bound, but his head was high, chin tilted in a defiance that looked too familiar to ignore.Don Enzo sat at the far end of the room, behind a desk of black oak that had survived three generations of violence and betrayal. His cigar burned low between two fingers, smoke curling upward like a coiled ghost.Lucien stood beside him, silent, his expression unreadable. He’d been summoned as both witness and warning. What unfolded in this room would ripple across everything they’d built.The guards shoved the newcomer into the chair opposite Don Enzo. He stumbled once, caught himself, and lifted his eyes.“Name,” Enzo said, voice cold enough to shatter glass.The boy smiled faintly. “You already know it.”Lucien’s jaw tightened. The arrogance, the tone—it was pure Enzo.Still, Enzo leaned forward. “I said your name.
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