Christen Press And Tobin Heath Novels & Stories

My husband, Gavin Chapman, is giving his secretary, Natasha Gardner, exactly what she wants. He's making her his wife. To pull it off, he fakes a lab accident, pretends to have amnesia, and brings her home. In his office, Gavin wraps his arms around Natasha and murmurs indulgently, "Not just Mrs. Chapman. Even if you want to pretend to be the vice president for a week, I'll let you." My eyes dim, but I let the lie go on. The next day, at a press conference, Gavin holds Natasha's hand and tells the world she's his real wife. He even threatens to kick me out of the company and take over all my research data. Dozens of cameras swivel toward me, waiting for my outburst. But I stay silent and simply sign the termination papers. Gavin doesn't know that the pharmaceutical project he believes will be done in seven days isn't quite finished. There's still one final step, and I'm the only one who knows how to do it.

Natalie Walker poured her heart and soul into loving Cedric Johnson for ten years, only to end up being burned to death by his lover.Cedric thought of that woman as nothing more than a housemaid. Even marriage wouldn't change her status. That was, until he received the news that she wanted a divorce..."Why do you want a divorce?" Cedric asked arrogantly, believing that this woman couldn't survive without him."Aren't you eager for me to die so you can be with your lover? I'm simply fulfilling your wish!" Natalie shot back as she laughed mockingly. "Cedric, I won't be blind again! Not in this lifetime!"Natalie, who had been reborn from the ashes, held the divorce papers and kicked the scumbag and his mistress to the curb.At a press conference for her company, the media asked, "We heard that you initiated the divorce. Could you tell us the reason?"Natalie responded calmly, "It was simply time to let go."That fire had consumed all her emotions.Looking back, it was nothing more than a long-planned trap set for her.

In a tale woven with both love and obsession, Adele Romero believed she had mended her shattered heart when she delivered a flower to the grand mansion. Little did she realize that her actions had already captured his attention. He was known as the mysterious figure, harboring a dark obsession that consumed him completely. The lingering desires from their shared past and the chance at redemption compelled him to entrap her in his grasp. This time, he was ready to script their story with spilled blood and possessive intent, and she remained oblivious to his true identity. "Have you ever felt the touch of a rose?" he whispered, his silhouette looming before her. "Yes," she replied, her voice quivering with anticipation. "Each petal holds its own unique allure, painted with shades that evoke fascination. And when you press it against your lips, it imparts a magnificent sensation," his voice husky and laden with desire. In that sacred moment, she felt his lips graze her skin. "You, Adele, are like a rose." "And I yearn to crush this rose beneath the weight of my insatiable craving."

When Julian, the true heir by blood, was finally brought back to the Family, my cold-blooded adoptive parents cast me aside. They sent me to "The Abyss"—a clandestine hellhole where billionaires and mafia bosses paid to hunt, rape, and slaughter human prey. No matter how humiliatingly I begged for mercy, I remained locked in an iron cage, passed around as prey for those bloodthirsty beasts. Days later, a photo of me—covered in whip marks, kneeling like a dog with a chain around my neck—made its way to my beloved fiancée, Vivienne. Standing before the press, the untouchable Mafia Princess sneered, her voice dripping with disgust. "He’s pathetic and utterly filthy. The Valenti family would never align with such trash. I'll be marrying Julian instead." On cue, the Russo family officially disowned me, permanently stripping me of their name. After I was tortured to death, the wedding of the century commenced, broadcast live worldwide to celebrate the alliance between two major mafia families. But right then, my "wedding gift" was delivered. When the box was opened, the entire room went dead silent.

‼️Note: Before you read the book, have it at the back of your mind that it's not incest ❌. I don't support relationship between siblings, it's purely disgusting to me, and shouldn't ever happen. Everything that happened in the book is purely fiction, and if any characters possess personalities that are quite familiar, please do ignore, as I apologize in advance for it, since it's purely fiction.‼️ Now, enjoy the book, and again, it's not incest ❌, please‼️ "This is wrong, Asher," I shudder in his arms as I feel his tongue caressing the nape of my neck, and he stops abruptly, his warm breath fanning my neck. "You are my brother for fuck's sake, Asher. Why are you doing this?" Tears stream down my cheeks as I press my back hard against the wall, while I watch my nightmare torment me. This is what I have been going through for years and no one seem to be coming for my rescue anytime soon. You would ask, how can my own brother be obsessed with me, how can he keep telling me that I belong to him, how can he be so serious to the point of ruining all the relationships I've ever built? Well, this is the story of my poor life. The story of Adelie Williams, a young lady that is destined to be tormented by her own brother...

"What are you trying to do? Get the hell out of my office!" He yelled at me but I ignored all his rant and approached him on his office seat, having unzipped my skimpy top a little, so that he gets a pleasurable view of my huge , bulging out of it. "If you resist me, I will make sure to leak all your secret doings to the public, so that all can see who you really are. Your name will be on the papers by Monday, and you will lose the respect of your employees. I'm sure you wouldn't want that to happen? Why not just relax and me here and now? These are craving your lustful touch". "Get behind me Satan! You slow poison! You wouldn't dare blackmail me." "Oh really? Remember I still have the tape with me. You just wait and see. Dare to resist me now and I will go straight to the press and media." As he was still pondering on whether to succumb to my demands or not, I got closer to him and forcefully crashed my lips against his, as my huge soft collapsed on his hard chest. Just then, the door was opened and my colleague was standing with a camera, recording our romantic scene.

When Lorenzo Fontana, the top Don of Bajadoro, posts a massive bounty on the dark web seeking someone to bear him a child, the entire Terella underworld is shaken. "Whoever gives birth to my first heir will become the Donna of the Fontana family." On the night I take the job, soldati press a gun to the back of my head and force me onto a helicopter bound for a snow-covered mountain estate. Just like that, I become one of the 15 candidates. Money is the greatest temptation that the human heart can hardly resist. Within a few months, several women proudly announce that they are pregnant. But they, along with their unborn children, are all thrown off a cliff. The reason is always the same—the child isn't Lorenzo's. Ever since the first scream echoes from behind the estate, I am never able to sleep peacefully again. It is because after a reckless night with Lorenzo, I have become pregnant too. On the day I go into labor and see what I have given birth to, cold sweat breaks out across my body due to my immense shock. At least those women who fell to their deaths gave birth to human babies. I, on the other hand, give birth to three eggs that are as big as footballs!

At three in the morning, I stare at the unknown transaction record on my phone screen, my fingertips turning cold. The record is for a payment of 2980 dollars, made for an executive suite at the Wisteria. The time of payment was 8:00 pm last night. My husband, Tristan Griffin, is a detective. He was on the night shift last night. I clutch my phone, my knuckles turning white as I text Tristan, "I just saw your credit card bill for a hotel stay last night. What's up with that?" His reply is instant. "Our team had to work overtime at the last minute, so they put us up at the hotel. I forgot to tell you about it." I scan the text and sputter. The Wisteria is located in the western region of the city, which is on the other end from where his squad is stationed. I don't press him for more details and click on the bank app on my phone. Having found the vendor's address through the payment record, I sent it to my best friend, Rowena Sheffield, who works as a private detective. She replies instantly with an "OK" emoji and follows up with, "Give me a second. I'll find out everything you want in a jiffy!"

My name is Oliver Blaese. I have an IQ of 145, a hacker's instincts, a mouth I can’t keep shut, and a list of men who shouldn’t be allowed to keep breathing. The courts won’t touch them. The press won’t do their jobs. So I find a Russian mercenary the size of a small building who runs the most lethal black-ops team in the world, and I make him an offer. He says yes. He also says other things. "On your knees." "Mine." Things in Russian he doesn’t bother to translate, that I look up later while bleeding from a cut he’s put his mouth on. Things I shouldn’t enjoy as much as I do. By the time the world is paying attention, the Syndicate is hunting us, my MI6 mother knows exactly what I’ve been doing, and Kirill is the only person who knows where every part of me lives. I don’t regret a single name. I don’t regret a single bullet. I definitely don’t regret him. MM dark romance. Heavy kink. Hard violence. Earned HEA.

As the college entrance exams approached, I paid the top student in our class to tutor me. But the day she came over, she brought along her childhood sweetheart and insisted that he join our study sessions. I declined her request politely, and she did not press the matter further. The boy left my house in defeat and was struck by a car, suffering injuries so severe that they left him crippled. He could no longer continue his education and was forced to drop out, taking on grueling manual labor to survive. The girl continued tutoring me nonetheless. We both gained admission to the same university, grew close over time, fell in love, got married, and started a family. But on the night of our wedding anniversary, Sharon slipped poison into my soup and watched impassively as I began to convulse and vomit blood, the crimson stain spreading slowly across the floor. "This is what you owe Harry," she said with cold venom. "Taste what it's like to lose all hope." It turned out that she had harbored resentment toward me for all those years. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day she first came to my house with her friend.