Hawaii

My sister-in-law sent me a photo of her kissing my husband on the beach. Just a few minutes later, she deleted the photo and sent me a text saying, “Oops, sent to the wrong person. Lol.” I knew it was deliberate. It was never a mistake. She wanted me to see how happy my husband was with her. Clara was never my sister-in-law. Three years ago, my husband had lied about her, claiming she was his younger sister, and I believed him. But after five years of marriage, I discovered—far too late—that Clara was never his sister. She was his mistress, his childhood lover, the woman he had been sleeping with under the same roof as me while making me serve her as if she were truly my sister-in-law. And now what? He had lied again… said he was going on a business trip. Yet Clara had just sent me a picture—a cute, sickening picture—of my husband happily kissing the very woman he had once claimed was his younger sister. The photo carried a timestamp showing the exact time and location. It was real. There was no denying it. They were in Hawaii, on a beach, laughing, kissing, and having the time of their lives… while he had made me believe he was away on business. Without saying a word, I saved the picture and posted it straight to Instagram, captioning it: "Congratulations to my sister-in-law… on finally becoming the official wife.” Then I turned off my phone and went to bed. The next morning, after having breakfast with my cat, Lulu, and taking the warmest bath ever, I turned my phone back on—and froze. Over 200 missed calls were waiting for me. Notifications exploded across my phone. And it didn’t stop there—the number of unattended messages kept climbing past 250.

I came to Hawaii chasing sun, surf, and freedom. Instead, I woke up drugged, locked in a cage, and halfway across the world. They said I was payment for a debt I never owed. They called me a gift for Valiente Cárdenas, Mexico’s most ruthless cartel king. He never asked for me. He didn’t want me. But the moment I fought back, I caught his dangerous attention… and sealed my fate. I should be plotting escape every second his gaze burns into me. Yet every time he calls me “Little Red,” my body betrays me. The most terrifying truth? Part of me is already forgetting why I ever wanted to run. “Why do you always call me that?” I whispered. He grinned, fingers twisting in my soft curls. “Because you turn bright red every time you hear the word ‘fuck.’” ☾⋆⁺₊✧✧✧✧✧₊⁺⋆☽ ⚠️ TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️ This is a dark romance with extreme, explicit, and disturbing content. It explores intense power imbalances, obsession, and taboo fantasies. It is not a representation of healthy relationships or real-life consent. The story contains or leads into: * Abduction/kidnapping. * Prolonged captivity and imprisonment. * Psychological manipulation and gaslighting. * Extreme dominance and submission. * Bondage and restraint (ropes, chains, collars, leashes) * Impact play (spanking, flogging, whipping) * Forced voyeurism via mirrors. * Orgasm control/denial/edging. * Rough and graphic sexual content (including oral, anal, and more) * Trauma, fear, helplessness. * Obsessive/possessive behavior. * Revenge-driven hatred. * Family betrayal, and mild paranormal elements (ghostly whispers and apparitions). This is fiction for adults who enjoy dark, taboo fantasies. Real-life BDSM requires safe, sane, consensual practices with safewords and aftercare—none of which are consistently present here. If any of these themes are triggering, please skip this book. Your mental health comes first. xoxo, SarahBlythe 🖤