Billionaire Son In Law

On Christmas Eve, my six-year-old, Yule, was dying from cancer, and all he wanted was a gift from his dad dressed as Santa. I called Peter, my husband, begging him to come. His reply? "Can you stop blowing up my phone? I don't have time for this! I'm helping Tracey find Puffy. Do you know how upset she is?" Oh, Tracey. His first love. And Puffy? Her dog. I told him Yule might not make it through the night. His response? A straight-up dagger: "Don't act like this isn't your fault, Freya. If Yule hadn't kicked Puffy, none of this would've happened. Tomorrow, make sure he apologizes to Tracey." Then he hung up. That night, I sat with Yule, crying as I helped him celebrate his last Christmas. By morning, Peter's social medias were still full of posts about that freaking dog. Mine? Yule's obituary. Ten years of marriage, gone.

WARNING: This book contains mature content, explicit scenes, and dark themes. Reader discretion is advised. “Maybe… maybe I don’t ever want to be anyone’s wife again.” Betrayed. Banished. Broken. For eight years, Selena was the devoted Luna of the Knightstorm Pack, until her alpha husband branded her a whore, stripped her of their children, and cast her out. Years later, she’s risen from the ashes as a renowned artist, fiercely independent and done with men forever. But when her ex-husband discovers the devastating truth, that a cruel scheme made him punish the wrong woman, he will stop at nothing to win her back. His reckless, alcoholic brother has always wanted her too. And then there’s the powerful alpha trapped in a loveless open marriage, willing to burn down his twenty-year union the moment he scents his second-chance mate in Selena. Three alphas. One woman who swore she would never belong to anyone again. As old wounds resurface and new desires ignite, Selena must fight not only for her stolen children, but for the heart she thought was dead. Who will claim the broken Luna… and will she ever let any of them in?

In our five years of marriage, I had given in to my husband, John, for a grand total of three times. The first time was during my pregnancy. He had taken his ex-girlfriend Stacy, who had once taken three bullets for him, back home and cared for her. When I became angry, he immediately sent her away once she recovered. The second time was after childbirth, when I was ready to return to work. To repay a favor, he gave the position I had worked years for to Stacy. He said it was so I could rest well. I looked at my son, who needed me, and I conceded. The third time was during our son’s birthday. In front of the entire company, he had announced that Stacy was his wife, all so she could establish herself in the company. I gave him two choices: divorce or send her away. Without hesitation, he chose the latter and immediately sent her abroad. The fourth time was when my father suddenly had a heart attack and urgently needed surgery. He disappeared again. I searched everywhere for him to cover the hospital expenses, and I finally discovered that he had gone to the airport to pick up a pregnant Stacy, who was returning to the country. Because of that, my father missed the best chance for treatment and died. I was done giving in. I disguised the divorce agreement as our son’s medical bill and tricked him into signing it. No compensation or apology would matter. I did not wish to have him near my son or myself again.

In my previous life, my sister thought that since my husband and I had high-paying jobs, she could swap her son with my child without anyone noticing. But twenty-five years later, the tables turned. My son had grown into a street thug, while her son—raised under my care—rose smoothly through life. Young as he was, he had already become a CEO. He was dutiful, bought me a villa, and even sent me traveling around the world. My sister barged into his company, waving a DNA test report, kicking up a scene, only to be thrown out by security. "Mr. Kieran said that even if you are his biological mother, you never gave him a single day of care," they told her. "So he refuses to acknowledge you." Breaking down completely, she drove her car into me and ended my life. When I opened my eyes again, we had returned to the very day she switched our babies. This time, my sister clutched her own child tightly, a wild, triumphant grin on her face. "From now on, you can be the mother of a street thug," she sneered. "The villa and all those riches—they're mine!"

It was the night of my husband's and my third anniversary, and I had gotten home early. I caught him in bed with another woman—for the tenth time. But unlike the previous times, I did not throw a tantrum. I even closed the door to the master bedroom quietly, not wanting to interrupt. In Scott Jameson's eyes, I had no choice but to tolerate his cheating because I became Mrs. Jameson by getting pregnant with his child. Three months later, he flung divorce papers at me. "My young lover wants me to give her a home and to bear my son. Sign the papers." I looked into his cold, distant eyes and said with conviction, "All right. All I want is custody of our son. I don't want a cent of the Jamesons' money." The court proceedings were difficult, and I was accused of being mentally unstable. Many people made fun of me for not knowing my place. All of Cloverton was waiting for me to humiliate myself, counting the seconds until a nobody like me succumbed to desperation. However, I fought the case with everything I had. Eventually, I was finally able to leave with my son. No one knew that Scott suffered from a serious case of asthenozoospermia. His sperm were completely useless. No other woman could have Scott's baby except me, as I happened to be unusually fertile. My son would be the only heir to the Jameson family legacy.

At sixty-five, I got served divorce papers. The same day, my husband Sebastian — decked out in his wedding suit, of all things — popped a handful of sleeping pills in a suicide attempt. For years, we were the perfect couple. The kind of pair neighbors whispered about with envy. I couldn't wrap my head around it. The divorce. The pills. None of it made sense. Not until I found the photo and letter in his pocket.

When my boyfriend came to my family home to ask for my hand in marriage, my sister-in-law, who was usually cold and aloof, became a completely different person. She flung her arm around me warmly and asked, “Cassie, who’s your favorite? This boyfriend or one of the dozen or so men that you’ve brought home before?” As I denied her accusation and interrupted her, she cheekily batted her eyelashes at my boyfriend and cooed, “Oh, yes, yes. Cassie has never brought another man home. You’re the lucky first!” In the midst of dinner, she deliberately took her own soiled underwear out of the bathroom, pinched her nose, and waved it around as she screeched, “Oh my goodness, Cassie! I know you don’t really care about hygiene, but we have guests today! How can you have no shame? It smells so bad!”

Nick Owen might be the biggest and strongest alpha wolf in the moonlight pack, but he is no better than the slave and servants, and that is because he was born a bastard. He soon finds out that his destined mate was none other than the rogue he had previously arrested, who at that moment claims to be his evil stepbrother's mate. He is heartbroken and promises to get back at her for picking his stepbrother over him. Kyle is the only daughter of her witch human mother and a wolf father that she has never seen. Her desperation to find her father leads her to a pack where she is forced to make an unpleasant deal in other to save her life. What happens when the bastard and the rogue find out that they are siblings? Could the moon goddess in her all-knowing wisdom make a mistake of matching them as mates or have they lied to their entire life? find out in this suspense-filled story.

Ivana Blake never imagined that marrying into one of the wealthiest families in New York would feel like a sentence instead of salvation. Her new husband, Ethan D’Amelio, is charming in public but distant behind closed doors, quickly swept away by his corporate empire. Left alone in the cavernous D’Amelio estate, Ivana finds herself watched, haunted—not by ghosts, but by a man far more dangerous: Christopher D’Amelio. Her husband’s stepfather. Cold. Ruthless. Beautiful in a way that burns. He is the man no one dares challenge. The man she should avoid at all costs. But when glances turn into confessions, and silence turns into touches, Ivana begins to unravel a dangerous obsession neither of them can resist. What begins as curiosity turns into a tangled web of passion, betrayal, and secrets that threaten to destroy them both. As the walls close in and her marriage crumbles, Ivana must choose between the safety of a lie—or the fire of a love that should never exist. This is not a love story. It’s a descent into desire, power, and the darkest corners of the human heart.

My sister's husband smirked. "You can call me the devil, but I know what I want." My eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as I stared at Damon's nûde body. This felt so wrong. He was my brother-in-law. "What do you want?" I breathed. Damon took a step closer, his gaze dark with intent. "You. I want you, Ava. I want to own you, and I’m done watching Walter hover around you like he has a chance. You belong to me." ~~~~~~ After a devastating breakup, Ava finds herself homeless in New York. Her older sister, Adrianna, offers her a place to stay, but moving in with her turns out to be the biggest mistake—or temptation—of her life. Adrianna and Damon’s marriage seems perfect on the outside, but cracks are beginning to show, and Ava gets caught in the middle. Damon is dangerous, possessive, and alluring. Despite every effort to resist, Ava finds herself drawn to him in ways she shouldn't be. Torn between loyalty and an undeniable attraction, Ava struggles against the forbidden pull of her sister’s husband. But when the tension between them becomes unbearable, one question remains—will she give in and damn the consequences? Find out in this gripping forbidden romance.