Performance Partnerships Novels & Stories

Amara has the life she was supposed to want — a handsome husband, a close family, a future that looks perfect from the outside. What she doesn't know is that the man she married has already decided what she is worth, and it is considerably less than she believes. When she discovers Antonio in bed with her sister Sasha, she gives him the only answer she has left — divorce. He gives her the only answer he has — a push down the stairs She dies. Hours later, he is holding her mother while she weeps. Trapped between worlds, invisible and unheard, Amara watches her own mourning and sees Antonio's performance for exactly what it is. Before she can be taken home, her spirit guide appears with a simple message — *it is time.* But Amara has one request. She has never asked for anything in her life. She is asking now. Send her back. Her spirit guide agrees, but the terms are non-negotiable. Three hundred and sixty five days, not a single one more, and a price she agrees to without fully understanding what it will cost her. She wakes up on March 19, 2019 — six years in the past, the morning of her own surprise engagement party. Antonio is bringing her breakfast in bed. The ring is still in his pocket. And Amara is the only person alive who knows exactly how the story ends. She came back for revenge. But Antonio is charming and calculating in equal measure, Sasha is warm and guilty and impossible to hate cleanly, and Jason — the man she walked away from long before any of this began — is a wound she packed away and called healed without ever checking whether it was. The clock is running. And she is already behind.

THE BILLIONAIRE'S MISTRESS _From sharing his bed to sharing his heart_ SYNOPSIS/BLURB "I thought so too. You don't remember the safe word." Jaxon had a tone of mischief in his voice. His Hazel Green eyes burned her down to her soul. Roxanne kept moving backwards till her back was against the wall. "Please, I don't want to do this." She begs. Jaxon is already very much aroused and the beast in his groin begs for release. Her begging only turns him on more. So innocent! Roxanne knows she can't do anything now, so she decides to give in to him. "Now that's what I want to see. Less struggle, more obedience. You're now my Pet. " Now get on your knees." Jaxon orders. Roxanne, a 24-year-old gymnast with heavy financial burdens, steps into the world of Club D'Lux, as an exotic pole dancer. Her first performance sparks a connection with Jaxon Hearst, the owner. When a fan gets too close, Jaxon helps her , revealing his true identity and making a shocking proposal as he's drawn to her beautiful and subtle nature. The hunger to possess her burns inside of him. He offers Roxanne a risky deal; become his mistress, and he'll take care of her financial worries and cover her father's medical bills. But as she enters Jaxon's life, shedding his layers, she discovers his dark secrets and desires that push her boundaries. As they engage in this consuming relationship, Roxanne finds herself trapped between her desire for Jaxon and her fear of his control. Can she tame his wild heart, or will their passion leave her in ruins?

On the day Winter Everhart suffers a miscarriage, her husband, Joshua Stroud, and their son, Terence, are out with his beloved Jessica Lynch. They watch the very performance Winter has always loved. "You're just so unreasonable. What's the point of all this?" "Dad, can you get me a new mom? She's so annoying!" On Winter's birthday, she returns from the hospital only to find Joshua celebrating Jessica's instead. Even Terence, the child she nearly gave her life to bring into the world, pledges to protect the woman who has stolen everything from her. Tears glisten in Winter's eyes as she smiles. Then, with quiet resolve, she walks away from the cage of a marriage that has bound her for five years. Joshua and Terence believe she won't survive without the Stroud family. What they don't expect is that she rises so high that they can no longer reach her. "Mr. Stroud! Mrs. Stroud's car design is now number one nationwide—Stroud Group has been completely outshone!" "Mr. Stroud! Mrs. Stroud has just won the World Championship in Artificial Intelligence Design!" "Mr. Stroud! Mrs. Stroud has been invited by a foreign president to attend a state banquet!" Regret tears Joshua apart. Dragging Terence with him, he kneels before Winter and pleads, "Honey, please give me another chance! If being your servant is what it takes, I'll do it!" But just beyond the door, a strikingly handsome man kneels on one knee, a leather collar fastened around his neck. Twining a diamond leash around Winter's palm, he vows with his gaze burning with feverish devotion, "My master, from this moment on, I bow to no one but you. Please, take me in."

"Ms. Smith, a complaint has been filed with HR. You have been accused of misusing your personal vehicle for unauthorized commercial activity." The administrative manager dropped a printed copy of the so-called joint complaint onto the desk, a faint, knowing smile on her lips. The company had decided to issue me a fine, placed a formal warning on my record, and revoked my performance bonus for this quarter. I stared at the handwriting on the complaint, then let out a short, incredulous laugh. I recognized it instantly. It was Selena Rogers. The same coworker who had been hitching rides with me to and from work every day for the past three years. It was all because of last night's storm. She had insisted I take a long detour to drive her to the mall so she could pick up her boyfriend, and I had said no. Then, in the break room, Selena's voice carried loud and clear. "Jennifer, I didn't have a choice. "We have to keep work and personal matters separate. The transportation stipend from the company isn't for you to make extra money." Around us, coworkers glanced over, whispering and pointing, as if they had completely forgotten how eager they once were to ask for a ride home. I took a slow breath. "Fine. I accept the company's decision." Then I pulled out my phone and made a call. "Mr. Wallace, I won't be renewing the lease on those two vans. "Yes. The ones that have been picking up and dropping off the admin and sales teams every day, free of charge." For three years, I had been the easygoing one, paying out of my own pocket every month to lease those vehicles so my coworkers could treat it as a perk. If that was now considered unauthorized business activity, then from this day on, everyone could figure out their own way to get to work.

Vera Quinn and I spent seven years tearing each other apart in the corporate world. When we first started, she sabotaged my presentation slides, hoping to watch me humiliate myself in front of the board. I retaliated by flagging her fraudulent expense reports to HR, making sure her name was dragged through every department in the company. When we were both up for the director position, she locked me in a supply closet to make me miss the final interview. The moment I got out, I poached a major client she had been pursuing for six months, leaving her at the very bottom of the year-end performance rankings. In our industry, we were fire and water—completely incompatible. Then three years ago, the endless scheming finally felt hollow. I handed in my resignation and walked away from the industry for good. The day I packed my desk and left, Vera was leaning against the elevator door, her eyes full of mockery. "Giving up already? Mylo, a cowardly deserter like you deserves to starve on the streets". I hit the "close" button, swearing I never wanted to see her face again as long as I lived. Three years later, we crossed paths again at the industry’s annual gala. Vera was now the youngest partner in the industry. She looked at me as I stood there, humbling myself to pour drinks for an executive, and let out a sharp laugh. "It’s been a few years, and you’ve fallen this far? Working as a glorified escort to scrounge up some investments? What happened to that pride you used to fight me with?" But I wasn't there to secure any investment. I was there to beg that executive for a few more days to pay off the predatory loans my father had left behind. I just needed enough time to sign the consent form for my stomach cancer surgery with a clear conscience.

Russell James called me plain. He said I didn't have what it took to drive a man crazy, then crawled back into bed with the supermodel he'd been hiding from me. I found out the hard way, with my own eyes and what little dignity I had left. By then, he'd already signed his professional football contract, become a rising star, and decided I was no longer in his league. A year later, my life is falling apart. My mother's surgery is unaffordable. My younger brother's hockey dreams are slipping away. My final semester fees are overdue. Then my half-sister offers me a deal. Seduce a powerful fashion executive at an elite Madrid nightclub and help secure her place in Europe's most prestigious fashion show. In return, my family's problems disappear. I say yes. I spend the night with the man she described. By morning, I discover I've slept with the wrong man. "Connor?" he repeats, amused. "My name's Andre." Andre Fernandez. Real Numancia de Madrid's golden boy. Europe's most sought-after footballer. Forty-eight million followers. A €150 million market value. And the biggest rival of the ex-boyfriend who shattered my heart. Before I can process what happened, Andre finds me. He clears my family's debts and makes one impossible demand: "Be my girlfriend." I say no. Andre Fernandez clearly isn't used to hearing that word. When paparazzi catch us kissing at a high-profile party, the internet explodes. To save Andre's reputation, his PR team pushes us into a fake relationship complete with staged appearances, rehearsed interviews, and public displays of affection. None of it is supposed to be real. Except the longer we pretend, the harder it becomes to remember where the performance ends. Russell sees the photographs and is annoyed at his rival's proximity to me.

My wife and I slept in separate beds for over three years. Then on our wedding anniversary, she suddenly tried to win me over. She climbed into my bed and pulled out all the stops, trying to get me to sleep with her. I stayed calm and collected. When our son started crying, I used it as an excuse to escape to his room, where I stayed all night. Vivian Hartley spent the entire night knocking on the door. The next morning, she acted sweet and gentle, graciously making me breakfast as if nothing had happened. She even tried to hand over her salary card. When my mother-in-law heard about this, she exploded at her daughter. "You pathetic fool! People need some self-respect! If you can't stand up for yourself, just get a divorce already!" Yet Vivian claimed her feelings for me ran so deep that the heavens themselves could vouch for her sincerity. She even defied her own mother. Our relatives and friends looked at us with envy. But my son and I continued to give her the cold shoulder. Finally, Vivian turned to social media for help. "Three years ago, I was busy with work. My husband and I had completely different schedules. I was afraid it would affect my performance at work, so I suggested we sleep in separate rooms. "Now our child is older, and I've swallowed my pride to try to fix things, but my husband won't even touch me." Someone in the comments gave her some advice: install hidden cameras around the house. "We can't just take your word for it. Record everything so we can see what's really going on. Plus, if things actually end in divorce, at least you'll have built up your social media following. It won't be a total loss." Vivian had no idea I was watching from among her followers.

What will you do when you are fucking in love with someone who doesn't love you back and then woke up the next day forced to marry another girl you don't even know or love? "Where the hell have you been, Hannah?" I turned around as she yelled from my back, full of hate in her eyes, grabbing my arm, pulling me inside, and laying me on the couch violently. I was shocked by her presumption. "You're still my fucking wife, Hannah. You're mine, don't ever forget that," she leaned on me as she held both my hands, feeling her grip trembling in rage. I was motionless and speechless. "What? is she great? Is she making you cum more than me? Are you not satisfied with my performance? I can do it again, you fucking whore" her face was dark, her voice cracking and hatred in every word she spits out. She forcibly slips her finger inside my andies and strokes my pussy, feeling my wetness. I slapped her hard. I was hurt by what she said. I could never imagine those words coming out from her. Where's the Ally I have known? Everything is my fault. I can't blame her if she started to treat me this way. I might hurt her ego. Even though we agreed not to intrude on others' lives still, it's not going to work the way we want it to. "Fucked Hannah, you are my wife. I can do whatever I want!" she shouted as she ripped my clothes and held me tighter. Ally got even angrier when I slapped her, struggling, but I didn't have a match for her. Ally kissed me forcibly and started to touch me out of love, stroking my breast, playing her fingers into my clit, burning with lust.

“You have no idea,” he said quietly, “how difficult it is hearing you say things like that while you’re upstairs and I can’t touch you.” My stomach tightened hard. “Then come upstairs.” The words escaped before I could think them through. Silence crashed into the room. “You do know what you’re asking for, don’t you?” “Yes.” A long pause. Then: “Open your door.” At twenty-two, Ivy Hart has mastered the art of pretending. By day, she’s the polished daughter of a wealthy country club businessman—the successful young woman her father proudly brags about to his golf buddies. By night, she becomes someone else entirely. Hidden behind soft lighting, silk robes, and a fake name, Ivy earns millions online giving strangers the intimacy she’s never found in real life. But one man is different. Masked. Older. Addictive. Known only as BigDaddyP, he doesn’t just watch her—he sees her. Every insecurity. Every lie. Every lonely part she hides behind the camera. Their late-night sessions become her obsession. Until the night he whispers her real name during a private stream. Terrified, Ivy logs off moments before her father calls with unexpected news: his famous actor godson, Patrick Laurent, will be staying at their mansion for Christmas while her parents leave town. Cold blue eyes. Dangerous restraint. A voice she would recognize anywhere. Because the man she’s been craving in the dark is now sleeping down the hall from her. Snowed in together in a mansion, the line between performance and reality begins to blur. And the more Patrick strips away her carefully built masks, the more Ivy realizes the real danger isn’t that her father’s closest friend knows exactly who she is, It’s that she wants him in every forbidden way possible.

“Congratulations, bitch. Dad sold you to Alpha Arthur. I heard he got into a car accident a few years ago that messed up his face and left him with a limp." She was forced to join the ShadowClaw Pack, expecting the same abuse and torment she had endured before. However, Alpha Arthur, not only handsome but also incredibly attentive, treated her well. She was his breeder, and he was initially attracted by her pure family background and good figure. Their relationship was merely a transaction. Over time, Ophelia gradually won Arthur's heart, and she allowed herself to fall in love with him. Later, she received a check and a farewell. Expecting Ophelia to cry and make a scene, she instead took the check and left decisively. "Mr. Morgan, goodbye forever!" From then on, Ophelia's life turned around completely. She started racing cars, healing the sick, and effortlessly made a name for herself in the music industry. Her stepmother and stepsister still looked down on her, thinking she was a disgrace. Eventually, they came to her, begging, "As long as Miss Clark was willing to save my daughter, I could name my price!" Reflecting on it, they realized that the girl they once pitied was actually a big deal. Even Taylor, who used to defy everyone, became her follower. "Anyone who dared to insult her, I’d break their legs!" Arthur, having lost Ophelia, watched her stunning performance on TV and deeply regretted letting her go. When they met again, she had someone else by her side. With red eyes, he said, "Ophelia, you were mine. Please come back to me." Ophelia smiled coldly, "Sorry, I'm very busy now, no time." Arthur pulled out a diamond ring, "Darling, let's get back together!" The Lycan's Unwanted Mate is created by Claire Wilkins, an eGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.