LOGINThis book is for viewers above the age of 18. It may contain explicit and violent scenes not suitable for all viewers. If you're not into dark romance you might find this disturbing. Her body hit the wall, her breath trembling as her eyes darted across my face. I knew that look — the one that screams lust. It made my mouth water instantly. “Stay back,” she gasped, her voice unsteady. But I did the opposite. As our bodies pressed together, I felt her tremble beneath me. “I just want you and that… that—” she faltered, the words dying as my hands found her hips. “That what, Mrs. Claire?” I murmured. She swallowed hard. Mrs. Claire — the woman who lets desire consume her. The woman I can’t get out of my head. --- Mrs. Claire: How did I find myself in this mess? I only wanted them to leave my family alone. But now… here I am, caught in a scandal of my own. What happens when your husband's mistress boyfriend becomes your Dom.
View MoreClaire Anthony
Ahhh, I went through the pictures, my eyes blurry with unshed tears, staring at the photos of my husband, cuddling up with a much younger woman. He looked so happy with her in his arms that I felt the need to puke, how could he? Not after everything we've been through. How could he do this to me? We've suffered together, built an empire, have kids and yet this is what he does, behind my back, he's cheating on me. No wonder he hardly touched me these days, with the excuse of being busy and tired, and I was a fool to believe him, to love him still. I set the pictures on the table, my hands shaky, I looked over at the pile of paper on my desk, a name written on it Pattie Paul, the girl he is cheating on me with. I have had a private investigator do a background check on her. She is a model, in a big agency, but was once a thriving model who by mere luck was hired by a bigger agency obviously the work of my husband. She started working there a year ago, the same year my husband has been in a relationship with her. For one whole year, I didn't know he was cheating on me, how foolish had I been? But something caught my eyes. She was in a long term relationship of three years with a guy named Liam. I picked the picture of them both, a striking young man whose hands were wrapped around her waist. A smile plastered on his face, the way he looks at her is the kind any woman would die for, she has such a handsome man why go for mine? Is it money? She wants to put my home in jeopardy all because of money? I dropped the picture and sat back down on the chair as I wallowed in grief. I hated this direction my life is going. What will I do? Should I confront Ian, ask him why he'd cheat on me? Or should I confront Pattie, telling her to let go of my husband for the sake of my children. But then he'll know I spied on him, I chewed on my thumbnail harder than I intended, and my eyes darted to that picture again, no, maybe, just maybe I should encounter her boyfriend and show him the photos, he'll be furious like me and maybe do something about it. I picked up the photo again, I mean who wouldn't crash out when they hear their lover is cheating on them because I am crashing out now. So I picked up my phone and dialed the investigator’s number. He picked immediately. "I want you to do something for me," I said urgently, not knowing I was about to make the biggest mistake of my life. Liam Everything in my life has always gone exactly the way I planned it. Every little detail falls into place, every move I make works out. My life, my business, even though people love calling it illegal and the legacy I’m building… all of it is steady. Controlled. Perfect, as perfect as something in my world can be. So, technically, I should be happy. I should be the most content man alive. Everything should be just fine. But no. There’s a problem. One I hate with every fiber of my being. No matter how much sex I have, no matter how many women I take to bed, no matter the hours I spend inside them…I never, ever get satisfied. Not even a little. And it’s not just annoying, it’s draining the hell out of me. Why can’t any woman satisfy me? Why the fuck is it only getting worse? I have money, power, and control, but this one thing keeps eating at me. I clicked my tongue in irritation, sinking into my chair, disgust twisting my face. I barely had a second to wallow before a knock interrupted my thoughts. “Come in,” I rasped. The door opened and Jerry walked in. One of my men—reliable, steady. “Boss, we seem to have a problem,” he said. I nodded, telling him to go on. “It seems someone is trying to find information about you.” I sat up immediately, eyes narrowing. It couldn’t be the police. Not the Feds. Not any of those fools. I practically own half of them with the secrets I keep. They wouldn’t dare. “Who is it?” I asked, voice sharp, direct. “It’s one of the client’s wives,” he replied. That caught me off guard. “What?” Jerry tossed a file onto the table. A picture slid out—her picture. “That woman, boss. Mrs. Claire. Her husband is the one dating Pattie,” he explained. I lifted the photo, studying her face. She looked like every typical high-class wife, put together, polished, the type who puts her home first. The perfect wife image society loves so much. “Oh, I see,” I murmured, flipping through her profile. Boring. Clean. Predictable. Nothing special. I dropped the file onto the table. “If she wants to know me, then give her what she wants,” I said, leaning back. Jerry gave a small smirk. “Yes, boss. So I’m sure you’ll handle it yourself?” A slow grin stretched across my face. “Well… now that you’ve said it, I could toy with her.” Jerry’s grin widened too. I looked at her photo again, letting thoughts settle in my mind. Her husband is one of my favorite clients. I even gave him Pattie as a mistress—out of all the other girls I could've offered, it was my own girlfriend. And now his wife is sniffing around me? Interesting. This…this is going to be a fun one. Suddenly, I pushed myself up from the chair. “Let’s forget about that for now,” I said, already striding toward the door. Jerry followed immediately, keeping a step behind me like he always did. “Do you have that tape of the CEO from Walter’s Corp?” I asked as we walked out into the hallway. “Yes, sir. Should we use it now?” Jerry asked. A slow smile stretched across my face as we stepped into the red-lit room, one of my favorite parts of the building. Music thumped, women swung their waists on poles and platforms, and men threw money like they were trying to burn their wealth before morning came. The air smelled of perfume, sweat, and power. My power. “Not now,” I replied, letting the grin grow wider as I took in the sight of my flourishing business. My kingdom. My playground. My trap for men who thought they were untouchable. I turned slightly toward Jerry. “I just hope the senator is enjoying his time in the red room.” The moment I said it, a low, guttural laugh tore out of me—raw, amused, dark. I am Liam King. And one thing everyone should know about me? I run a world that powerful, accomplished men crawl into willingly. And it pays me more than any legal empire ever could.ClaireI knocked once—no answer. Then again. From inside, her voice snapped, “Riette, I told you to go away!” But the way she sounded… it was all wrong. Her voice cracked, fragile, like she’d been crying for hours.I reached for the handle anyway. Surprisingly, she hadn’t locked it. I turned the knob, pushed the door open, and stepped inside.The room was pitch black—no lights, curtains drawn tight. “Why did you do that? Just leave,” she mumbled from under the covers.I didn’t say a word. I walked straight to the windows and yanked the curtains open. Sunlight flooded in. She shot up immediately, face twisted in anger—until she saw it was me. Her eyes widened.I frowned, really looking at her now. Isa’s face was a wreck: red and blotchy, eyes swollen and puffy, lips raw like she’d been biting them bloody. “Mom?” she whispered.“What happened?” I asked gently. “Why have you been crying?”Her eyes flickered with panic for half a second before she turned her face away. “It’s nothing. Just
Liam The sharp click of heels echoed down the hallway as I sat there, a cigar smoldering between my fingers. The door swung open, and in stepped a blonde, tall, slender figure—poised, elegant, every movement deliberate. As she drew closer, she dipped her head slightly, eyes respectfully lowered. “Good morning, Mr. King,” she said softly. I gave a small nod and set the cigar down in the ashtray, clearing my throat. “No need to look so frightened, Jane. How was he?” She lifted her gaze then, a sly little smile curling her lips—one I mirrored without hesitation. “Let’s just say… he isn’t the worst,” she replied, her tone laced with amusement. I let out a low chuckle, shaking my head in disbelief. Hard to imagine this was the same man Mrs. Claire had come crawling to me about, practically begging me to make Pattie leave him alone. “Also, sir,” Jane continued, and I arched my brow. “It seems he did come here looking for Pat.” She shifted her weight, one hand resting confidentl
IsabellaIt was early in the morning. I was scrolling through my phone when something suddenly caught my attention.It was a post in our school group chat, made by a girl named Amaya. She had written, “Spending the holiday with my bae.” As I scrolled down, I saw she had attached a picture.My heart stopped.I sat up quickly on the bed and tapped on the photo, zooming in. Maybe I wasn’t seeing clearly. My eyes widened as my chest tightened.That was her in the picture—her lips locked with a guy.And not just any guy.My boyfriend.Or… was I wrong?That was Cullen. Or did he have a twin? No—he never mentioned a twin. Oh no. This couldn’t be happening.My hands started shaking as I backed out of the chat and opened my contacts. I needed to call him. This had to be a mistake.My heart was pounding so hard, and suddenly, my stomach twisted—I felt like I needed to use the bathroom.I called him, but it went straight to voicemail. I tried again and again—same thing every time. Did he block m
PattieHis words didn’t just hurt. They broke something inside me that I didn’t even know could still break. All those years, every night, every desperate trick I learned, every boundary I crossed just to please him… I had tried everything. I hated the idea of threesomes, hated sharing him, hated the way it made me feel small, but I still let it happen. Over and over. Hoping, praying that this time would be different. That this time he would finally let go, finally come, finally show me I was enough. And every single time, he’d just hiss in frustration, pull away, tell me it wasn’t working. That he couldn’t. That no matter how long we went, how many times I tried to make him feel good, release was impossible for him. We had accepted it. I had accepted it. It became our quiet, painful truth: Liam King simply didn’t come. Not with me. Not with anyone. Until her. Until one woman, some faceless, nameless woman, unlocked the thing I had bled for, cried for, humiliated mys


















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