Pillow For Bathtub Novels & Stories

She was only supposed to be the help… but she might just be his salvation. Billionaire Asher Brown is a man haunted by loss. Ever since his wife’s tragic death, his world has revolved around two things—his daughter, Chloe, and his business empire. Love is the last thing on his mind… until Dahlia Reigns walks through his door. Hired as Chloe’s live-in maid, Dahlia never expected to become more than just an employee. But as she brings warmth and laughter back into the Brown household, she finds herself drawn to the brooding man behind the suit. And Asher? He can’t seem to stay away from her. But not everyone wants to see them happy. Catherine, his late wife’s sister, has her own plans—and she’s willing to destroy Dahlia to keep Asher under her control. As secrets unravel and lines blur, Asher and Dahlia must decide: Will they risk it all for love, or will the past win once again? SPECIAL NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR Dearest incoming readers, this may sound unkind but it needs to be said. Please, if you're expecting a fast-paced, smutty romance book, then this one might not be the one for you. This book is a slow-paced, fluffy romance that focuses on building trust and a lovable communication with mature and understanding characters. Which means no toxicity from the ML and FL of any such. While there will be smut, more of it to come, please do not expect it within the first few chapters. If you're looking for something different and unique, I suggest you give this one a try, and if it's not your style, please skip. Bad and unnecessary comments will not be condoled. Thank you.

My husband threw me into the crocodile pit to help his childhood sweetheart, who was a KOL, gain popularity. To make the live stream more realistic, he personally tossed bait at me. “Have you not eaten? My grandma can run faster than you!” He watched as I bled from my abdomen, believing I was just pretending to be pitiful. When I asked for a divorce, he kicked me to the ground. “Since you love pretending to be pitiful to ask for a divorce, why didn’t you just let the crocodile kill you?” I handed him a medical report. “My child died because of you. Does this count as pretending to be pitiful?”

After the birth of our daughter, my husband left for a dangerous mission. My in-laws' initial joy soured, and they regarded my baby with disdain. Maria, my mother-in-law, was particularly scornful. In a rare show of familial love, my father-in-law Lincoln took my daughter out for a playdate. I thought he had finally grown fond of her, only for him to strike me the moment he returned. "How dare you betray my son! I'll kill you!" "Yes! Beat that loose woman to death together with that brat!" Shifting my gaze from the report on the floor to my furious father-in-law, I pulled out several photos—my naked mother-in-law Maria, caught with another man. "Let's see who the real loose woman is!"

Maya runs away from home, escaping an arranged marriage to an unfamiliar city-Chicago. Attacked and robbed of everything, she's left with nothing-no money, no safety, no hope. When a strip club poster catches her eye, Maya makes a decision: one night on stage could earn her enough for a room, maybe even a way to survive. Instead, she meets Roman Volkov. Cold, ruthless, and untouchable, Roman is the Mafia boss who owns the city's underworld. He makes her an offer: one night with him, and she'll have more money than she knows what to do with. It should be simple. Just a deal. Just one night in Chicago with a man she'll never see again. But when the sun rises, Maya learns the truth: No one spends just one night with Roman Volkov.

John Garnett's secretary fed me to the dogs on my own birthday. I called his number endlessly to call for help, only for him to block my number immediately, as he fooled around with his secretary at the presidential suite in broad daylight. All I felt was agony as I was ripped into countless little pieces, still holding on to the black rose seeds he had given me when we were younger. That was not thrilling enough for the secretary, however, she buried me in the backyard of John' villa, intent on making my perished soul watch their bedroom activities. It was not until rain poured a month later, and a cluster of black roses suddenly grew in the backyard. "Where's Claire? I was just scaring her with the dogs—did she run away just to spite me?"

Seven years ago, Selene Ocean was framed and forced out of the world of elite marine research. She lost her career, her future, and the man she once loved—Ethan North, the proud corporate heir who believed the lie that broke her. Now she returns, not as a victim, but as the brilliant founder of the global marine conservation initiative, Heart of the Deep. Armed with unmatched intuition and a mind sharp enough to read the ocean itself, Selene rebuilds reefs, exposes corruption, and rises to international recognition. When the truth is revealed, Ethan collapses under the weight of his regret—but Selene’s heart is no longer his to claim. With the dangerous and manipulative Veronica Shaw closing in, the storm around Selene only grows stronger. In this story of betrayal, resilience, and redemption, one truth stands firm: The past cannot drown a woman who has learned to rise from the depths.

Forbidden heat, chemistry, obsession. Roses are red, trouble looks good, and Elara was not prepared for this kind of heat. She thought her cheating, abusive husband was the best she could get. Two lost pregnancies. A family that body-shamed her and mocked her hard work like it was a hobby. She wanted peace. She got Adrian. Adrian…. cold, brilliant, infuriatingly attractive. A final-year student with eyes that lingered too long and a secret billionaire empire no one knew he controlled. A man used to getting everything he wants. She’s off-limits. He’s obsessed. And when their desire crosses the line, it ignites something neither of them can put out. What happens when the student no one dares to cross falls for the professor who thinks she’s unworthy of desire? This semester? They’re both failing self-control.

I had no choice but to become the partner of a mafia boss with an incubus bloodline when his heat cycle began. To my surprise, Lionel Andrus and I got along better than I ever imagined. Every night, he held me close, craving more of me, as if we were made for each other. But right before we got our marriage license, my jealous sister, Tracy Rowe, tried to talk me out of it. "Incubi are born flirts," she warned. "How do you know you're his only woman? Once he's bored, he'll toss you aside." In my last life, I had believed her. I called off my engagement with Lionel and, through her introduction, married a "nice guy" named Jamie Stephenson. After we married, Jamie cheated on me and gave me STDs. Desperate, I went to Tracy's house to ask for help. She turned me away with disgust. "You couldn't control your husband and ended up sick, and you actually came asking me for money? How dare you! You have no self-respect. You don't deserve to be my sister!" Right then, she publicly cut ties with me. Even our parents sided with her, calling me a disgrace and refusing to let me step inside the house. In the end, I couldn't take the pain anymore and ended up hanging myself. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the very day Tracy told me not to marry Lionel.

I was raised to believe that love meant endurance. That if I loved him enough, I could survive anything. For seven years, I was stationed at the border—alone, bleeding, freezing, nearly dying more times than I can count. Every transfer request I submitted was denied. Every time I asked why, I was told the same thing: the family needed me. The alliance came first. Others needed protection more than I did. What I didn’t know was this— Every sacrifice I made was approved by the man who claimed to love me. Adrian Holt, the Don who raised me, protected me, promised I would be his Donna one day… He was the one signing my name away year after year. He chose widows. He chose alliances. He chose power. And he chose for me—without ever asking. Because he was certain of one thing: That no matter what he did, I would never leave him. He believed love meant I would understand. That loyalty meant silence. That I would forgive anything—as long as he said he loved me. So when I finally walked away, I didn’t argue. I didn’t beg. I disappeared. And that was the moment his world collapsed. Now he’s tearing through cities, alliances, and his own sanity trying to find me— Too late realizing that love is not sacrifice when only one person bleeds. This is not a story about redemption. It’s a story about what happens after you lose the woman who endured everything… And finally chose herself.

 In her first life, she loved him recklessly—five years of marriage, telling everyone she was his fated mate. Five years of waiting behind closed while he spent his sweet time with his mistress resulted in divorce papers, signed with the same steady hand that had once slid a ring onto her finger. As if that wasn't enough her mistress killed after humiliating her in the worst ways possible. She died with his name on her lips… and woke up five years earlier, on the night of their wedding. This time, she refuses to be the obedient wife. This time she will slap the marriage contract on the table. “One year,” she says sweetly. “We remain legally married for one year. No intimacy and no interference in each other’s private lives. After that, we divorce quietly.” He studies her like she’s a stranger wearing his wife's face. Amused, he signs. Then one rain-soaked morning, she wakes up naked in his bed. Again In the dim light, his voice dropped to a whisper. “Forget about the divorce now."