Defending Jacob Did He Do It Novels & Stories

Venice once rejected Lucien during their university days, believing he was someone far beneath the world she desired. Ambitious and drawn to wealthy and famous men, she never imagined that the quiet man she dismissed would one day become someone powerful. Years later, Lucien has everything—wealth, influence, and a marriage arranged under complicated circumstances. During a grand Bachelor’s Party he hosts, fate brings Venice back into his life. The moment he sees her again, Lucien hires her on the spot. Now Venice finds herself working for the very man she once ignored—Lucien, who is no longer the quiet student she remembered, but a cold and irresistible billionaire. Determined to keep her distance, Venice focuses on her job and reminds herself that Lucien is a married man. Yet the more time they spend together, the harder it becomes to ignore the tension growing between them. What Venice doesn't know is that Lucien didn't hire her by coincidence… he had been searching for her for years. Caught between resisting the man who now holds power over her and confronting the feelings she never expected to feel, Venice must decide: will she walk away before it's too late… or will she find herself trapped in a desire she can no longer escape?

I had been married to Natasha Bates for ten years, and not once did she ever join me for our family's Independence Day cookout. This year, on the night before the celebration, I finally gathered the courage to ask if she wanted to come. She scoffed and said, "What are you, stuck in the past? Who even celebrates the Fourth with a family dinner anymore?" Yet that very evening, I saw a social media post of Natasha with her male best friend, Stanley Rogers. They were quite intimate in the picture, and the caption read: [True happiness is celebrating Independence Day with your bestie!] I commented back: [Hope you two lovebirds make it official soon.] Stanley did not hold back. He messaged me a bunch of intimate photos of the two of them. Then, he added, [You're just a leech living off his wife. What right do you have to question anything about Nattie?] Everyone always thought I was a gold-digger living off Natasha's success. However, they all forgot that I was the sole major shareholder of the company. This time, I’m done staying silent.

The classified project I was working on wrapped up ahead of schedule, so I made sure to get back on my daughter's birthday. When I walked in, a girl I had never seen before was wearing my daughter's princess dress, a crown perched on her head. She sat in front of a cake as tall as she was, eyes closed, making a wish. I frowned and stepped closer. "Who are you? Why are you wearing my daughter's dress? Where's Heidi?" Before she could answer, two housemaids rushed out and started yelling at me. "Where the hell did you come from? How dare you talk to our boss's daughter like that? If you know what's good for you, get out! When the boss gets back, you won't like what happens." I stood there, confused. Boss? The boss's daughter? In this house, wasn't it just me and my daughter, Heidi Foster? I barely had time to speak before they shoved me toward the front door. In the middle of the pushing, something caught my eye. Off to the side, chained to a pillar, was Heidi. The girl I used to hold like she was the most precious thing in the world was now sprawled on the ground, digging through a dog bowl for food. A thick iron chain was locked around her neck, and her body was covered in bruises. My vision tightened. "Heidi, what happened to you?" The moment our eyes met, her hollow gaze filled with tears. She shrank back, then let out a soft bark at me, like a frightened dog. The maids looked at her with open disgust. One of them sneered, "Our boss said that that little thing was born to live like a dog. You have to keep her chained up if you want her to behave."

“Sign it.” Axton’s calm voice echoed in the room. The kind of calm that made silence deafening. He pushed the divorce papers across the polished desk, his expression cold and composed. The pen rolled until it stopped in front of her hand. Isla’s fingers trembled slightly as she picked it up. The golden ring on her finger glinted under the office light, a cruel reminder of everything that was about to end. Three years of marriage, three years of smiles and unspoken tenderness, now reduced to a signature line. They had never married for love, binded by a contract signed for convenience, destined to expire the moment it no longer served its purpose. And yet somewhere along the way, Isla had forgotten it was only temporary.

The day before the family’s position transfer deadline, I received an order assigning me to the Bellarosa branch. It had come from Don Enzo Vitelli, who also happened to be my fiance. My fingers went cold as I dialed his number. His voice was drawling, as if he had just rolled out of bed. “Oh, Lucrezia submitted that for you. She said it was a prank. She wanted to see if you’d notice. Well, you did notice, so just cancel it yourself.” Lucrezia was the new assistant with whom he had a thing with. I held the phone and stayed silent for a long moment. All those six years I had fought for my place in the family, yet someone was treating it as a prank. I did not argue or scream. I simply packed my things calmly and boarded the flight to Bellarosa on schedule. Enzo panicked. He called back. His voice finally lost that lazy drawl. “I told you to cancel it. Have you cancelled it?” “No.”

An earthquake struck suddenly during our honeymoon. I suggested that we flee immediately. My husband’s former lover mocked me for being cowardly and paranoid. So, my husband dismissed my fears. I had no choice but to continue sightseeing with them. A fractured steel frame crashed down with an earsplitting clang and smashed into his former lover. She clung to me desperately as the rebars drove into my ribs one by one. Before I could cry out, my husband kicked me down when he saw his former lover in danger. “You wretch! If you hadn’t suggested this honeymoon spot, Lena wouldn’t have gotten hurt! “You knew there’d be an earthquake today. You did this on purpose!” The rebars pierced deeper into my ribs and made every breath I took excruciatingly painful. My husband pushed me aside, lifted his former lover into his arms, and stormed off without glancing back. “Before the aftershock hits, I’m taking Lena to the hospital! Then, I’ll call for rescue. “Stay here and reflect on your actions. This is your punishment for scheming against Lena!” I waited all night. He did not know that the torrential rains of the monsoon season had flooded the area. What awaited him was the bloated corpse of a pregnant woman.

A car accident leaves me unconscious for a full three years. When I wake up, my family bursts into tears of joy. They care for me with the utmost attention. But from their behavior, I sense something is wrong. There are women's clothes in the house that don't fit me. My mother's shopping cart is filled with mysterious baby items. My father's friends send congratulatory messages about a new child, and my husband is always working overtime. When my husband once again leaves me alone under the pretext that there is something urgent at the company, I secretly follow him. Inside a warmly decorated house, my parents and husband sit around a table. A woman who looks almost exactly like me is holding a baby just a few months old, gently coaxing the child to call my husband "Daddy".

Everyone knows Francesco Greco, heir to the largest mafia family in Solerio, is a notorious playboy. Yet when he swears to God that he'll love me for the rest of his life, I choose to believe him. He lives up to his words during the first year of our marriage. The Greco heir, whose presence alone terrorizes others, clings to me like a loyal puppy at home. But by the second year, he starts returning home with one lover after another. Rumors of his scandalous affairs spread, and I become the laughingstock of Solerio. On our eighth anniversary, his 99th lover taunts me in front of everyone at dinner. "Don't sleep in the master bedroom tonight," she says. "Mr. Greco and I are going to have some fun there. Also, change the sheets. I can't stand how dirty your things are." Everyone expects me to break down under such humiliation. Instead, I smile and turn on my heel. Then, I dial Madre Greco's number. "Madre, it's been eight years," I say, my voice steady. "It's time for me to leave."

When I'm done putting my daughter, Alani Carter, to sleep, I suddenly come across a social media post. "My husband, who's always been uncaring about the household matters, suddenly decides to be more engaging and helpful recently. What's the reason behind his change in behavior?" The comments in that comment section cut to the chase immediately. "Oh, there's no doubt about the answer. Either he's having an affair behind your back, or he wants your money." As soon as I leave a like on the answer, my husband, Michael Carter, who has never cared about Alani before, suddenly asks me, "What sort of homework does Alani have today?" That's when I notice the parents' group chat on my phone, where Demi Miller's mother, Yvette Miller, has tagged Michael there abruptly. "Mr. Carter, what's tonight's homework?" He has responded to her immediately, "Give me a moment. I'll send you the list later." I glance at the time. It's already 10:30 pm. We've been married for so many years, and yet Michael has never responded to any of my WhatsApp messages on time before. I secretly tap on Yvette's profile picture, only to find out that her social media feed is filled with coincidental meetings with Michael. Apparently, she has met him coincidentally at the amusement park, at a bookstore, and even at a family restaurant the three of us have frequented. When I pick Alani up from the kindergarten in the next evening, I happen to overhear Yvette telling another parent, "Alani's dad sure has a heart of gold! He even helps me take care of Demi! "Whenever I ask him questions regarding Demi, he's able to answer me on the spot. Parents who care this much about children are a rarity these days!" I continue the topic smilingly, "Isn't that right? Michael has never attended a single parent-child meeting related to his own daughter, and yet he's quite skilled in helping others raise their children." After that, I find myself a secluded corner, where I dial my lawyer's phone number immediately. "Have you prepared the divorce contract? I want him to leave this marriage without a single cent to his name!"

Six years ago, my sister and I fell for the same man, Edmund. But he only had eyes for Rosalie, the sweet, innocent type. With them, I was always the third wheel. They got married, of course. And on their wedding day, I overheard my parents whispering. "The company's strapped for cash," my father said. "What if we marry Corinne off to our business partner? That'd solve our problem..." This "partner" was over fifty and twice divorced. So I ran. I fled to Sicily with the only five thousand dollars to my name. I ran on pure bitterness. In four years, I brought dozens of small-time Sicilian crews to heel and forged my own family: Vexille. In another two, I came back to New York and quietly became the most powerful woman in the North American underworld. By then, Edmund's power was crumbling, hit hard by a rival family. That's when my mother called, her voice full of that same old entitlement. "Your brother-in-law's in some trouble. Figure out a way to help him." Then a text from my sister, Rosalie, dripping with contempt: "Sister, I remember you have a little casino in Sicily, right? So you must know something about that Vexille family." "Edmund needs their help. See what you can dig up." They still don't know. I'm the Don of the Vexille family. I glanced at the schedule my advisor had prepared. Tomorrow, 9:00 AM. A sit-down with some minor family looking for a handout. The name on the file: Edmund.