I'll Put You Through Hell

During a kindergarten parent-teacher conference, a rich wife accuses me of stealing her bag. I'm baffled. I bought the bag myself abroad, and it even has my name etched on it. However, when I scrutinize the bag, I discover that my name is missing. I call my husband, and he impatiently says, "I gave your bag to Jen. She's fresh out of college and needs an expensive bag to make herself look good. Even Finn said the bag is too young for you—it suits Jen more. You're too old for these things. You should be glad to even have a fake one." I bark out an exasperated laugh. I can go without having a husband, but the bag has to be returned to me.

In the seventh year of marrying Don Sebastian Quinn, I finally stopped loving him. After finishing the family business in the afternoon, I found an excuse to go out for coffee; He wanted to take me to attend the family core meeting, but I politely declined by saying I had to fly to Paris to watch a show; When he finally refused his social engagement and tried to get intimate with me, I lied about feeling unwell and slept in a separate room. Even when his lover was wearing my silk nightgown and commanding the housekeepers in the living room, I calmly complimented her good figure. My indifference finally hurt this man. He forcefully grabbed my chin in the middle of the night, his eyes red. "Why aren't you mad seeing another woman sleeping in my bed? Nicola Scott, I'm your husband. Don't you care at all?" I looked at his out-of-control state and only smiled faintly, thinking, 'Sebastian, you've probably forgotten that I loved you the most during the years you punished me by making me kneel and reflect on my actions.'

"You can never own me, I am neither the objects in your room nor the body on sale. " I shouted. "There is nothing I can't own. Just some bucks swayed and things are mine." He smirked with a wittiest smile. "You will come to me begging! Mark my words! " "I will make you mine-with the power of money. The power which can buy anything, which can win anyone. " "What a miserable heart you own! Mr Billionaire" My heart felt pity for him. "Do you think your money can buy love?" "Things of beauty are costly to have but then there is nothing I can not afford. " He blurted flushing a mischievous smile. "Soon, I will own every bit of you. " He asserted, soon his face turned stern and smile was replaced by a horrifying determination shining through his brown lifeless eyes. "You will be mine" He whispered , coming closer to my ears.

I am about to book a room at a hotel owned by Luca Conti, a consigliere under my command, when a sharp voice suddenly cuts in from behind me. "Aspetta. That's not your price." I turn around. A woman wearing a manager's badge stands there with her arms crossed, scrutinizing me as if I am an unsightly stain she can't wait to wipe away. "We don't allow prostitution here," she says coolly. "If you're receiving clients, there will be a fine." As she speaks, she hands me a penalty notice. The charges are clearly listed on the paper. "Illegal guest reception fee: 350 thousand dollars. "Special soundproofing fee: 150 thousand dollars. "Special cleaning fee: 100 thousand dollars. "Total fee: 600 thousand dollars." Receiving clients? I have simply come straight from a Mafia cocktail party without changing clothes—that's all. What exactly does she take me for?" I lift my gaze and answer evenly, "You're mistaken. I am not that kind of person. You can contact the hotel owner, Luca Conti, and ask him who I am." A sneer flickers through Sofia Rossi's eyes. She spits to the side, full of contempt. "Still claiming you are not a puttana? Women like you come here every week. Every single one of them swears she knows him. "Our boss is the consigliere to the Russo family, the most powerful Mafia family in Seneriffe. Do you really think he needs someone cheap like you? "I suggest you pay up now, subito, before your client loses patience and drags you into the street and rapes you." I do not waste another word on her. I take out my phone and send a message directly to my secretary, Marco Bianchi. "Notify Luca. Either this manager, Sofia Rossi, disappears from this city, or he does."

My husband sends me a photo of our obedient daughter holding a plate of food. He writes, "Thanks to my patient guidance, our sweetheart has finally made her first dish! We're waiting for you to come home and taste it!" The exhaustion I feel from work is swept away when I see that. No one expects that I'll reach home half an hour later and kill him.

MATURE CONTENT: This book is strictly R18+ BLURB: Excerpt: Before I could turn toward him, the ground vanished beneath my feet. Again, a startled gasp tore from my throat as he lifted me with sudden force, and in the next breath, my legs were wrapped around his waist, his hands firm on my ass like I paid him to own it too. Before words could leave my mouth he kissed me deliberately. Like he needed to stir the moment. Stir something in me. My pupils flared at the shock of his movement, my heart pounding so violently it felt as though it might break free from my chest. "I wouldn't mind helping you strip if you aren't going to do it yourself?" His voice dripped demand that felt more like a command instead of a request. Too much of an aura for a one-night stand who I never knew was the husband I feared. ~~~ How will you feel when you wake up only to discover you had been set up for an arranged marriage with a man whose stories about him made ears that heard it tingle? Afraid, devastated, angry, right? Then what will be your reaction when you find out that a one-night stand whom you had paid to stir a scandal and stop the marriage turned out to be the arranged husband you're running away from? Now I believe words can't describe your feelings. However, that was my story. He wanted me, made rules for me. Made me fight to know who he was and now even my restraint can't subdue him rather he consumed every bit of me. What will become my fate when I find out what made me afraid of him, afraid of the city was actually who I was?

I've returned to the Ashcroft family for three years. All three homecoming parties have ended in failure. At the first party, I was accused of stealing a watch in front of the guests. Because of that, I became the entire elite society's laughingstock. In the second party, I was pushed into a swimming pool. As such, I suffered from a high fever and was comatose for three days. It almost killed me. In the third party, a forged paternity test was hurled in my face. My own mother announced that she had cut all ties with me on the spot. Every party ended with the fake heir, Everest Ashcroft, bursting into tears and admitting his mistakes. But the entire family kept telling me, "Everest is deathly afraid of you obtaining our love meant for him. That's why he threw a small tantrum. "You're already acknowledged as a son of the Ashcrofts. Why must you keep latching onto this matter so pettily?" In the fourth party held on the fourth year, Everest threatens to off himself. In order to save him, I fall from the rooftop, causing my right leg to suffer from a comminuted fracture. My entire family huddles around Everest, who's obviously shaken, and keeps showering him with love and care. The butler is ordered to pass on their message to me. "Know your place. Do not disturb Everest when he's in bedrest." As I caress my broken leg, I keep laughing until tears stream down my cheeks. It's not that Everest doesn't want the Ashcrofts to give away their love to me. It's just that the Ashcrofts don't want to acknowledge me as a part of them at all. In that case, I might as well leave this family permanently.

“Just stay married to me for three years. After that, we divorce. In return, I’ll help you destroy your husband and the woman who took your child.” I agreed. Not because I was weak. But because I survived. I was once a devoted wife. Obedient. Loyal. Pregnant with a child I believed would save my marriage. Then his first love returned, and everything I trusted turned to blood and betrayal. We were rushed to the same hospital. I was bleeding. She was crying in his arms. There was only one operating room left. He chose her. He wheeled his mistress, his first love, into surgery and left me behind to miscarry alone. I lost my baby on a cold hospital bed while my husband held another woman’s hand. I divorced him. But some wounds do not heal. They sharpen. Now I have a contract marriage, a man with no love to give, and a plan written in patience and pain. I will take everything my ex-husband values, piece by piece, and make him beg for what he threw away. Forgiveness is for the dead. And I am very much alive. Watch out, husband. I will ruin you.

Raizel Benitez-Cruz grew up believing that he was bullied by Cornelia Bella Braganza. Mas matanda ito sa kanya ng tatlong taon—kung hindi aasarin at lalaitin, ang palaging ending ng pagtatalo nila ay magpapaka-ate ito sa kanya. Ang palagi pa naman tawag nito sa kanya ay “bata” at “taba.” "Kahit kailan, hindi ko magugustuhan ang babaeng iyon!” So he said. He had enough of her. Kaya ang naging solusyon niya ay sundan ito ng tingin at camera, kunin ang mga failed moments at reactions nito, at gamitin na pang-asar. Hanggang sa hindi niya namamalayan, hanap-hanap niya na ito. Dumating ang araw ng graduation ni Bella. Hindi niya inaasahan na sisisihin siya nito sa mga kamalasan nito sa buhay bago sila maghiwalay ng landas. Walang ideya si Raizel sa mga pinatutungkulan ni Bella. Kaya ipinangako niya sa sarili na kung magkikita ulit sila, ipararanas niya rito kung ano ang malas na dala ng isang Raizel Cruz. Magawa niya kaya ito kung sariling puso na ang kalaban niya?

In the split second when the research lab explodes, my boyfriend, Thomas Bastion, dashes to Melody Harper, who is standing furthest from the blast zone. He shields her from the impact with his own body. When the sounds of the explosion stop, the first thing he does is carry Melody to the hospital. I'm lying on the floor. My body is covered in fresh blood, but he doesn't spare a single glance at me. Thomas has taken care of Melody for the past 18 years. His heart is filled with nothing but her. There's no space for anyone else. I only survived because my colleagues rushed me to the hospital. When I am discharged from the ICU, I call my teacher, Louis Carpenter. Both my eyes are swollen from how much I've been crying. "Mr. Carpenter, I've made up my mind. I'm willing to join you for the confidential research. It's fine if we have to leave in one month. I don't care that I'll be unable to contact anyone for the next five years." The wedding ceremony that I have been dreaming of is supposed to take place in a month's time. However, I no longer want to get married.