Clean Code

When I'm seven years old, my dad turns me in to the Court Judgment of the Born Wicked because of my tendency to vomit. If I'm found guilty, my blood ties with my dad will be forcibly severed. Then, I'll be sent to prison. Everyone claims that Dad is just making a fuss over nothing. "Your daughter is still so young, so it's natural for her to fall ill. As a father, you should be more considerate toward her." But when the evidence is shown, everyone clamps up immediately. There was once when Dad drank so much to the point he suffered from gastric bleeding. The business contract that he managed to convince his client to sign was all soiled because I vomited on him as soon as he got home. Thanks to me, the contract was voided. Dad got fired on the spot. During Bryce Fuller, my older brother's birthday, I vomited onto his birthday cake in front of his classmates. Because of that, Bryce was isolated by all of his classmates. He became so depressed that he tried to slit his wrist in an attempt to take his own life. I'll keep vomiting everywhere, be it at the dining table or on my bed. Dad and Bryce have to clean me up more than 30 times every day. They suffer greatly because of me. What angers everyone the most is that after I'm done vomiting, I'll laugh at everyone in a provocative manner. The judge gives his verdict instantly, claiming that I'm wicked by nature. Bryce's eyes redden immediately. As he cries, he tells me that he can't bear to see me leaving him. I never shed any tears, nor do I throw a tantrum. Instead, I accept the judge's verdict calmly, but with a prerequisite condition that the judge finishes watching my memories. The judge is shocked, to say the least. "We'll have to crack your skull open in order to extract your memories. You'll be in a world of pain. Are you sure about that?" I nod in determination. But Bryce, on the other hand, looks alarmed. "I won't agree to that!"

I've been mated to Alpha Alaric Goremane for five years, and I'm still a virgin. On the night he claims me, I stand before him, naked. With my heart pounding against my chest, I muster the courage to step forward and wrap my arms around him. But he pulls away, and then comes the words that lingered in my head for years like a devil's whisper. "I'm sorry, Kyna. I have severe germaphobia and can't handle physical intimacy. Please give me some time." In that moment, my heart plunges into the abyss. But when I see the torment in his eyes, I convince myself that he doesn't love me any less. He's just sick, and all I have to do is wait. So, I wait for five long years. On our fifth mating anniversary, I cross thousands of miles in a raging storm just to see the look of delight on his face when I surprise him. Sure enough, I see the warmth in his eyes and gentleness in his expression. But what a pity… it isn't for me. The Alpha, who claims to be an obsessive clean freak, is on one knee before his childhood sweetheart. He gently slips off her rain-soaked heels, dries her feet, and warms her cold toes with the heat of his palm. It's as if that's the most natural thing in the world, and as if his world holds no one else. He sighs. "Serene, how many times have I told you that you'll catch a cold? What would you do without me?" In that instant, the last of my delusions shatters. I finally realize that his germaphobia is selective, and I'm simply the one he can't bear to touch. Instead of making a fuss, I slip off the ring I've worn for five years and walk into the storm without looking back. Later, I hear he tries to win me back with the most expensive roses in the city. But the Kyna Lupen who loves him is long gone.

"You can scream. Nobody's coming to save you." His c^ck is buried so deep I feel it in my ribs. My wrists are tied above my head with his belt while another man feeds his c^ck into my mouth. I'm gagging, drooling, mascara running down my cheeks, and my pussy is clenching so hard the one inside me groans. * * * This book contains extreme sexual content on every page. Gangbangs. Breeding. BDSM. Knotting. Choking. Double penetration. If your pussy isn't throbbing by the end of this warning, this book isn't for you. If you want something filthy. Something with thick cocks and rough hands and a voice that growls "good girl" while he's buried inside you. Something you'd never say out loud but your body responds to so hard your panties are wet before the fantasy even finishes playing. This book is that fantasy. Ten times over. C^cks shoved down throats until she's choking and drooling and begging with her eyes because her mouth is too full to speak. Pussies stretched around men so thick her walls ache for days. Two c^cks inside her at once while a third fills her mouth. Knots swelling and locking, pumping her so full her stomach feels heavy. Faces slapped mid-thrust while she whispers "again." Men who spit in her mouth, cum inside her raw, and don't let her clean up before the next one takes his turn. No slow burn. No fade to black. No soft landing. Just raw, graphic, unfiltered filth that starts on page one and doesn't let up until the final sentence. If the thought of being pinned, stretched, filled, bred, and used until cum is running down both your thighs makes something tighten low in your stomach, open the book. They're waiting. And they don't play gentle.

Moments before my Mating Ceremony, the guards shoved me from the altar. I watched, paralyzed, as another she-wolf in a pristine white gown took my place. My mate, Beta Seth, didn't even flinch. He took her hand—the hand of his childhood sweetheart, Brielle. And in that silence, his voice echoed in my head through the mind link. "Brielle is pregnant with a rogue's pup. She's mateless. I have to claim her, give her a home in the pack. It's to protect the child. I won't actually mark her. When this is all over, you'll still be my only one." I almost believed his bullshit. Until I saw Seth's hand stroking Brielle's waist after the ceremony. And Brielle, pulling him in for a kiss. In that moment, my eyes burned, and I was rooted to the spot. Seth thought I'd wait. Everyone who watched me pine for him thought I'd come crawling back, begging him to complete our bond. After all, we were fated mates. I'd been waiting for this ceremony for five years. But they had no idea. I turned my back on the pack and left. The moment that failed ceremony ended, I bonded with Lucian. The most powerful Vampire Prince. Three years later, I came back. Lucian called for a truce with the werewolves—all for me. As his mate, I returned to my former pack lands to witness the treaty. But the first thing my arrogant ex-fated mate did was rip the huge moonstone pendant off my neck. "That's the Vampire Prince's moonstone. He bought it for his blood-bonded mate years ago. Where did you get that cheap knock-off? A street stall?" "Enough with the tantrum. Come back. Brielle's kid is three. You can have a cot in the utility closet and clean up after him. Now take that cheap thing off your neck. Don't screw up the peace treaty." I just stood there, rubbing the sore spot on my neck where the chain had scraped, and let out a quiet sigh. He didn’t know that the moment anyone tried to rip this pendant from my throat, Lucian would feel it. And the only thing that would greet them… was his world-ending fury.

After my birthday party, I got far too drunk and made a mistake I could never take back. I slept with my friend's daughter and got her pregnant. To make things right, I handed over more than half of my company shares as compensation. I promised him I would marry his daughter, Nancy Cooper, and give her the grandest wedding possible. After the wedding, I willingly stepped into the role of a househusband. I cooked, cleaned, and kept the home running. However, Nancy spent less and less time at home. Her business trips grew more frequent, and even our son began to look down on me, as if I were nothing more than a man circling the kitchen all day. At my mother's funeral, I noticed Nancy was nowhere to be seen, not even greeting the guests. I went looking for her around the venue. Just as I was about to return to the lounge to call her, a familiar voice drifted out from inside. "Easy… Don't let him find out. I won't be able to explain it when I get back." "Relax. He's an idiot, so easy to fool. Your dad set him up on purpose and drugged him because he wanted his family's assets. And you…" The man chuckled softly. "You made him play the role of our kid’s father. The whole trap was so obvious, yet he still didn't see it. What makes you think he'd notice us sneaking around at his own mother's funeral?" "He's just that stupid," Nancy said lightly. "He believes everything I tell him. Gilbert, just wait a little longer. Once I deal with those stubborn old shareholders, I'll rename Lawson Group to Shaw Group. Then, you can finally enjoy being the one in charge." I stood in place, frozen. It felt like the blood in my veins had turned to ice. This was the ugly truth. Every bit of it, every promise, every sacrifice, had been nothing but a carefully staged lie. Something inside me went cold and quiet. Whatever hope I had been holding onto was shattered completely. I decided then that I would disappear. Not just leave, but vanish. I would stage my death and make a clean break. I would erase myself from Nancy’s world forever. However, after I left for good, she lost her mind, telling the world she loved me and begging me to come back.

On my birthday, my wife, Iris Lockwood, has ordered a few workers to carry a dust-covered second-hand air conditioner home as my birthday present. She points at the air conditioner while gushing excitedly, "This is a big brand, you know! It might look dirty on the outside, but the insides are brand new! "Remember, we're scrimping all the pennies we can get in order to move into a penthouse in the future. That way, we'll be able to live comfortably as a family of three!" I'm very understanding toward Iris, seeing as it's very difficult to earn money nowadays. So, I endure the pain that's flaring from an old hip injury I've sustained during my early days as a manual laborer as I crouch on the floor and clean the air conditioner for two long hours. But as soon as it's turned on, chemical powder sprays from it, soon filling the whole apartment. Because of that, our three-year-old son, Flynn Holt, goes into shock immediately from the severe allergy. With red-rimmed eyes, I yell at Iris to take Flynn to the hospital. But she quickly leaves after taking a phone call. "Crap, my biggest client is met with a car accident! I need to deal with it right away! You can flag down a cab and take Flynn to the hospital on your own!" That midnight, I head over to Quantum Heights, which is known as the most luxurious residence in the city, after receiving a phone call regarding the wrong address. In the corridor, I see Iris embracing a young man. She has nothing but love and affection for him. "There's no need to save money, you know. Young men at your age love new and branded goods, don't you?" Right… To Iris, a useless husband like me who didn't have an educational background only deserved to use second-hand things. But even the most saintly man will revolt one day once his patience is worn out. Besides, I've been faking my nice, understanding personality all along.

Ten years with Don Maximus. I went from the crazy girl who demanded his "undying loyalty" at gunpoint to Chicago's perfect Donna. When Maximus took the casino's hottest stripper to his private room, I didn't lose my mind. Instead, I tossed the woman the keys to a Manhattan penthouse. When Maximus's new flame threw a tantrum at a yacht party, I didn't bat an eye. Instead, after she slapped a waiter in a fit of pique, I made the police problem go away. When Maximus fought with one of his girls, I'd even send her a limited-edition Birkin to smooth things over. And today, Maximus is busy fucking his hot new toy in the study, while another pregnant mistress stands on the estate's rooftop, threatening to jump just to see him. And I'm still the one in my red-bottom heels, calmly going to clean up his mess. The mistress screamed, desperate. "I'm not having this baby! Get Maximus!" I took a sip of my wine, my voice bored. "He's busy today. You have the baby, and I'll make sure seven figures show up in your offshore account." My indifference set her off. She grabbed my wrist, her grip like iron. "You're pathetic, Angelina! There was a time he wouldn't even look at another woman because of you. He slaughtered an entire family for you. When you were shot, he knelt in the pouring rain outside a church, begging God to take his life for yours! But now? You can't even get into his bed. All you can do is stand here and play the gracious Donna!" Her nails left red marks on my skin, but the smile on my face didn't crack. Did she really think a little drama would change anything? I wasn't playing the gracious Donna. I was just done. And I was finally ready to let Maximus go.