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My cousin, John Anderson, always paid me in tens rather than in thousands. He owned a renovation company, and my team and I always worked hard for his projects. However, he only transferred me thirty dollars for sand and concrete that were worth three thousand dollars. Besides that, he only transferred me one thousand five hundred dollars to finance customized doors and windows worth one hundred and fifty thousand dollars. I did not harp on that. Instead, I bore the cost in full, as he was my cousin. That was until his wife, Rory Anderson, scolded me in front of all the workers. “Peter’s a bloodsucker. He never informs us whenever he buys new materials. He must have scammed a lot of money from us! I saw that he got himself a new house and a new car. I bet these are all bought with money he took from us!” John smoked next to us and sighed, “Never mind. He’s family after all.” I was furious when I heard that. I paid more than six hundred thousand dollars’ worth of material fees for him, and he was accusing me of stealing his money? The next client had a mansion and wanted natural marbles worth hundreds of thousands of dollars for his living room floor. John approved the request but only transferred me a thousand dollars to get it sorted out. So, I went to the brick factory located in the countryside and got a truckload of used red bricks from pigpens. Then, I used them for the client’s flooring.

The day I found out I wasn't really an Adelson, Sharon—their real daughter—stormed in and stabbed me—over and over. Just like that, my shot at being a mom? Gone. Chuck Benetton, my fiancé, lost it. My parents swore they'd disown her. To "comfort" me, Chuck proposed on the spot. My parents handed me the severance letter—Sharon officially disowned—and told me to just focus on healing. Later, they said Sharon had run off and gotten trafficked in Nyamara, some hotspot for scams and lost souls. They said it served her right. And yeah... I believed them. Six years into the lie, I saw her—very much alive, baby bump and all, curled up against my husband like she owned him. "If I hadn't snapped back then, Yasmine never would've married you, " she said. "Thank God you and Mom and Dad backed me. Otherwise, that imposter would've landed me in jail. "She probably never guessed I've been right here, carrying your baby. Once I give birth, just fake an adoption. She can nanny our kid forever. "Thanks for everything, Chuck." She smiled like he was her hero. And he blushed. "Don't thank me. Marrying her was the only way to protect you. I'd do it all again." So yeah. The guy I thought loved me? He was always lying. My "parents"? They only cared about Sharon. If that's love, I want nothing to do with it.

“You were never meant to wake up in my bed…but now you belong to me.” Lila Smith's world shattered the night her sister drugged her to steal her fiancé. Instead, she woke up naked in the bed of Dominic Valencia, the most feared dangerous mafia boss in the East Coast. One scandalous night ruined her life. Desperate to survive the scandal, she signs a brutal contract: become Dominic's contract wife, and spread her legs for him every single night until she gives him an heir. What begins as terror slowly turns into forbidden attraction. Dominic is sometimes brutal, sometimes dangerously gentle. But one night Lila discovers a shocking truth: she hadn't just slept with one man. She had slept with two. Dominic has an identical twin brother, named Dante. Both equally ruthless, equally possessive, and both brothers now claim her as theirs. Neither of them willing to let her go. Trapped between two identical alpha males who look the same but touch her differently. Every night they take turns. Every night her body betrays her. And every night the line between fear and craving for their touch blurs together. Lila is dragged into a dangerous world of power, obsession, desire and betrayal. In a world where love is weakness and possession is law, one question will decide everything: Can she survive being owned by both… or will the twins tear each other apart trying to keep her?

Warning 21+ ======================= Once, he owned her heart. Now, she is his stepmother. Five years ago, Elara Moretti vanished, leaving Xavier Vaughn with nothing but a shattered heart and a soul fueled by bitterness. She was the only woman he ever truly loved—and the only one who ever dared to destroy him. Now, Elara has returned, but not as the lover he once knew. She returns wearing his father’s wedding ring. Trapped by her father’s crippling gambling debts, Elara was forced to sell her freedom to Maximilian Vaughn, the titan of Vaughn Enterprises. Following a tragic accident that left him paralyzed and unable to touch his new prize, Maximilian bought Elara to be his ultimate trophy—a beautiful ornament for his gilded cage. Elara expected a life of cold luxury and hollow silence. She didn’t expect to find Xavier lurking in the shadows of the Vaughn estate, waiting for her. Xavier is no longer the sweet boy she once adored. He has transformed into a ruthless tycoon with a heart of stone and a burning, dark obsession. He knows exactly why she’s here. He knows the secret behind her "sacrifice." And while his father can only display Elara like a diamond behind glass, Xavier intends to reclaim what was always his. In a mansion built on lies and forbidden cravings, Xavier is determined to turn Elara’s life into a living hell or a forbidden heaven. "You wanted the Vaughn fortune, Elara? You’ll have to go through me to get it. And I don’t play fair."

My brother Christopher owned a boutique on Fifth Avenue. I'd gone in, picked out a few pieces, grabbed a silk scarf on the way, and was heading for the door. The clerk behind the register stopped me. "Ma'am, we'll need you to settle this now." I looked up. Her name tag said Yvonne. Unfamiliar face. Probably new. I didn't think much of it. "Just put it on the owner's account," I said politely. "He knows who I am." She gave a little snort through her nose, eyes raking from my hair down to my shoes. "We don't run accounts here. You might have the wrong store." She pushed an itemized bill across the counter. Four hundred thousand dollars. I scanned the line items. Personal Style Consultation. Premium Fitting Service. VIP Client Private Service. Every single charge cost more than the clothes themselves. I let out a short laugh. "I'm a Whitfield. Christopher's my brother. Whatever this is, he can deal with it at home." Her smile got uglier. "Anyone can claim to be a Whitfield, sweetheart. Are you trying to skip out on the bill, or are you just trying to embarrass yourself?" I didn't bother arguing. I pulled out my phone and texted Christopher: [Fire the clerk named Yvonne in the next ten minutes, or I pull every dollar I have in this store.]

The day I dissolved the mate bond, I called my childhood friend to pick me up. I had a bank card with barely any balance left, my phone, and the same clothes I had worn the day I moved into this house. That was everything I owned after all those years living in the pack. My mate, Derek Anderson, called to say I had left a few things behind. "Forget it. Just throw them away." He seemed reluctant to give up. "Your son keeps saying he wants to see you." I dragged my suitcase behind me and walked away without looking back. "Tell him he'll have a new mom soon. The one he's always wanted." Like father, like son. They even fell for the same woman. In the past, I would have asked myself, 'Why won't they even look at me? I've given them so much.' Now, I felt nothing. If they didn't love me, then so be it. I would let them go and let myself go in the process too. My childhood best friend, Eric Keaton, helped me with my luggage and opened the door of his Maybach. I said one last thing to my mate. "I won't ever disturb you and your son again." After a long time, he found me. He grabbed my arm like a madman and stared at me in despair. "Leah Sullivan, why don't you care about us anymore?"

“You’re just a whore disguising under your church teachings. So fucking greedy that you had to spread your pussy for my son after I’ve wrecked your sweet, tight hole.” Eli sneered into my ears. “Tell me, who fucks you better? Me or my son?” Raised in a strict church orphanage, twenty-year-old Iris St. Luke knew nothing about the world. She accepted a job as a live-in maid at the Hawthorne mansion just to escape—but she walked straight into a trap of pure sin. The Hawthorne family owned everything, and they answered to no one. Eli Hawthorne was the monstrous, billionaire head of the house. He didn't care about her holy background. The moment he caught Iris soaking wet in her uniform, he forced her to confess her deepest desires—and took her right there on his desk. But one devil wasn't enough. Dr. Liam Hawthorne was Eli’s brilliant, deceitful son and heir. Under the guise of helping Iris study medicine, he used his hands and his wicked smile to trap her mind, making it impossible for her to say no to his touch. Soon, Iris was a helpless maid by day and the secret plaything of both father and son by night. She knew she was going straight to hell, but she was too addicted to their rough touch, power, and shared obsession to ever run away. Content Warning: This book is dark, highly taboo, and completely shameless. If you are ready to watch a maid get beautifully ruined by a billionaire father and his son... flip the page. Happy reading!

On the night that was meant to bind them forever, Avelyn Cross was handed divorce papers instead of a vow. Married to billionaire tycoon Cassian Blackridge in what she believed was a marriage of growing love, Avelyn discovers the truth too late she was never his choice. She was a substitute, a convenient bride filling space until the woman who owned his heart returned. Humiliated in her wedding dress and discarded before the night could end, Avelyn signs the divorce and disappears from Cassian’s world without tears, pleas, or explanations. What Cassian never expects is the silence she leaves behind. As Avelyn rebuilds her life from the ashes of betrayal, she sheds the identity of a disposable wife and rises into a woman of power, independence, and quiet fire. The fragile girl Cassian once ignored becomes someone the world cannot overlook. Years later, fate forces their paths to cross again. Cassian, now haunted by regret and haunted by the emptiness her absence carved into his life, realizes too late that the woman he discarded was the only one who ever truly loved him. But Avelyn has learned the cost of loving without being chosen and she is no longer willing to pay it. When buried secrets surface, past lies unravel, and an unexpected truth binds them once more, Cassian must confront the consequences of his cruelty and fight not just for forgiveness but for a second chance he may not deserve. In a world of power, pride, and broken promises, Divorced on Our Wedding Night is a slow-burn story of betrayal, transformation, and redemption where love must survive regret, and forgiveness must be earned, not begged for.

“Fuck me harder, Daddy… I need you to ruin me.” My broken plea spilled out as Ryan drove into me relentlessly, his thick cock stretching me to the edge of pain, his rough palm cracking against my ass while he yanked my hair back. “That’s my filthy little princess,” he growled against my ear, slamming deeper until I shattered around him. “I’m gonna fuck this sweet pussy raw, choke you till you see stars, breed you till you’re dripping my cum down your thighs. Beg for it louder, baby girl—tell Daddy how much you want to be marked, owned, completely fucking destroyed.” Ava Carter’s carefully ordered world cracked the day she moved back into her dad’s house after college and a soul-crushing year of dead-end jobs. Heart bruised from a toxic ex, confidence shattered after a rejection letter, she accepted the only offer that came—personal assistant to Ryan Hale, her father’s best friend and the dangerously hot architect who’d always been off-limits. One late night at the office turns into forbidden fire. He takes her roughly, whispering dark promises while old threats resurface. Will she surrender everything to the man who protects and possesses her? Or will the scorching taboo finally burn them both? “Good girl. Now swallow every last drop like you were made for it.”

She sold her soul for survival. Now she’s trapped in his inferno. I was supposed to serve drinks at an exclusive masquerade. I never planned to be auctioned off to the highest bidder. But the man who bought me? He wasn’t wearing a mask. He was the mask. Lucian Devlin isn’t just any man. He’s dangerous, powerful, and terrifyingly beautiful. A billionaire with a taste for control and a past cloaked in darkness, Lucian didn’t want a woman, he wanted a possession. What Serena didn’t know was that the contract she signed bound her to him for thirty days. Thirty nights of submission, of twisted games and sinful pleasures. Thirty days of burning where escape is impossible and maybe, deep down, unwanted. Serena needs the money. Her family is drowning, the rent is due, bills are piling, her mother dying, her siblings thrown out of school and barely surviving. But staying means risking everything: her body, her sanity, and her heart. Lucian swore he'd never love again. That what he touches, he destroys. But the more he breaks her rules, the more she shatters his. And when obsession turns to something far more dangerous, walking away won’t be an option for either of them. He warned her: she’d beg before this was over. I swore I’d never be owned again. But there’s something about being his plaything that feels a lot like power. A dangerous love story where surrender feels like sin... and salvation. Rated 18+ | Explicit. Addictive. Emotionally brutal.