Scorpio Queens Novels & Stories

Moana Queens has two rules: stay on top, and never become my mother. I'm the most brilliant girl in school, a cheerleader with a sharp tongue and sharper ambition. I've spent my whole life watching my mother fall for the wrong men who fuck and leave. I refuse to be that girl. But then there's Dylan Dickson. He's arrogant, cocky and a fucking playboy who doesn't screw the same girl twice. He's also my academic rival, infuriatingly brilliant, and so goddamn sexy I can barely think straight when he's near. I hate everything he represents. I want him with a hunger that keeps me awake at night. And that terrifies me. Then fate delivers the cruelest blow: Dylan is my new stepbrother. Now we're living under the same roof, and the air between us is electric. I catch him shirtless, water dripping down that perfect body. He watches me like he wants to devour me, his voice a dark promise when he warns, "Don't start what you can't finish." Every accidental touch burns. Every heated glance makes me ache. I wouldn't do anything to sabotage my mother's relationship, seeing her finally happy and stable. Dylan doesn't believe in love, his mother's betrayal destroyed that years ago and he doesn't do commitment. But denying what's between us is torture. The want is primal…. The need is consuming…. And fighting it is slowly tearing me apart. One taste and I'll be ruined One touch and there's no coming back, The stakes have never been higher, but how much longer can I pretend I don't want to fuck him senseless.

Late one night, a thread blew up and hit the front page of a famous forum deep in New York’s underworld. The original poster had dug up an old prompt: “Name three words that sum up your youth.” Then an account that’d been dormant for years popped up in the replies. Its avatar was a backlit silhouette of a girl in a white dress, username: Seraphina. That was Seraphina Rossi. The Rossi family heiress, the undisputed it girl of New York’s underworld. She typed: Vibrant. Passionate. And Rico Valentino. All hell broke loose in the thread. The wild Valentino’s heir and the breathtaking Rossi heiress had once loved each other hard, only for it all to end in bitter regret. Nearly everyone in New York’s underworld had watched that heartbreak play out. Including me. I turned my head, staring at the man sleeping beside me. This was the man next to me: the once reckless kid who’d ruled the streets of Queens with his bare fists, now the Don of the Valention family. Poised. Unshakable. And he didn’t love me. I’d always known Rico still kept in touch with Seraphina. That he’d met her in secret, more than once. That’s why he’d refused to make our marriage public. His excuse was always the same: “Keeping your identity off the grid keeps our enemies from targeting you.” But I knew I was the one standing between Rico and the woman he’d never stopped loving. If all three of us were just going to keep hurting like this? I’d rather walk away. Let them have each other. I’d made up my mind. I was divorcing Rico.

My partner, Derek Crawford, calls himself a traditional man. On our tenth anniversary, I bought him a pair of his favorite AJ sneakers. Instead, he gifted me a bag of pastries. "Your cake is extremely tiny, and yet it costs you a few dozen dollars! Look at the pastries I got you—not only are they cheap, but they are also huge in quantity! Now this is what I call worth it!" After that, Derek tells me that he'll make it up to me by throwing an engagement party. He has also invited my parents and my relatives to the party. With anticipation brimming in our eyes, we arrive at the restaurant, only to see Derek serving us with store-bought pickles and dinner rolls. "I'm a traditional man, you see. I'm not used to fancy food and foreign cuisines. This, right here, is the basics of a traditional dinner. You don't see patriotic men like me nowadays!" My relatives' expressions change drastically on the spot. Meanwhile, my parents look very mortified. I can only smile awkwardly at them while doing everything I can to stop them from leaving. But as soon as I leave the hotel, I receive a notification from the bank that 200 thousand dollars have been deducted from my account via a supplementary card linked to it. At the same time, Derek's childhood sweetheart, Renee Young, posts a photo of her 12-layered luxurious cake on her social media account. "When I told Derek that I wanted to celebrate my birthday, not only did he buy me the most expensive strawberry cake, but he also reserved a dozen or so tables that are served with the grandest feast! "If your man loves you that much, he won't need any lessons in pampering you! Traditional men definitely know how to love and pamper their queens!" I tighten my grip on my phone. As I look back at Derek, who keeps claiming that he's a traditional man stuck to his traditional ways, I suddenly find it exhausting to continue being in a relationship with him.