Silk And Honey Novels & Stories

Right after I get accepted to my rich biological family, I become my older sister, Josie Sonnenfeld's marriage replacement. In the first marriage alliance, Josie despises the fact that her partner, Zane Lowry, is a hedonistic playboy who can't even hold down a job. On the day of their engagement, she's fled all the way to another country with another man. I pin Zane down and teaches him how to cook up a perfect scheme so that he can overtake his arrogant half-brother who happens to be a bastard son. In the second marriage alliance, Josie looks down on Benjamin Shaw, a low-income college student who comes from an ordinary family. On their wedding day, she makes sure to humiliate him in front of everyone before ditching him at the altar. With the money I've saved up, I spend one long, grueling year in the basement with Benjamin as he works hard to establish his success. I'm with him until the day he becomes the director of the National Research Institute. In the third marriage alliance, Josie scowls in disgust when she realizes Rowan Gallagher is a total momma's boy. She wastes no time traveling to a tropical island with her male best friend afterward. As for me, I walk into the stressful-looking manor and drag the cowardly Rowan out. By the time I'm done reshaping him, he has succeeded in taking over every single business belonging to his family. Three years later, Josie, who has spent every single cent overseas, has no choice but to return to the country while heavily pregnant. "Thanks for watching over these losers in my stead, Laura. Now that I'm back, you can get lost now." Josie intends to pick one out of her three ex-fiances to become her unborn baby's father. Meanwhile, I tap on a group chat titled "Happy Family" and sends a text there. "Josie is back for you three." Everyone in the group chat instantly goes haywire. The men are quick to proclaim their love and loyalty toward me. "Don't worry, honey! Our hearts and bodies are yours!"

THIS BOOK IS RATED 18 AND HAS A LOT OF ADULT CONTENT Blurb~ "Get off me!" Tessa gasped, struggling beneath Vernon's broad frame. His dark eyes gleamed with something unreadable—a hunger, a craving. When he didn’t move, panic surged through her, and she screamed. His hand shot out, wrapping around her throat, his grip unyielding. A breathless gasp tore from her lips. "You can't run from me, Peach." His voice was silk and steel, lethal in its promise. "I own you." — Tessa had lost everything—her home, her wealth, her love. The man she once adored, Tamlin, had not only betrayed her but stripped her of everything she owned, tossing her aside like she meant nothing. She was Heartbroken, Weak and Shattered. But things were only going to get worse. Tamlin didn’t just ruin her—he sold her. As collateral to pay his debt. Now, she belonged to the devil himself—Vernon Carter. Cold. Dominant and Cruel. A man who didn’t know the meaning of mercy. But behind this cold facade is man who is wounded by heartbreak and swore never to give his heart out again. He thought he could break her, use her but he was wrong. Tessa shut the door to her heart and now it only wanted vengeance. She wanted Tamlin to suffer. And to do that, she needed power. Wealth. Someone more ruthless than Tamlin ever was. Vernon was the perfect pawn. She made up her mind. She would seduce him. Make him crave her. Make him hers on the terms that she would never fall for him but fate had other plans. What happens when Vernon discovers her true intentions, that he was just a pawn in her twisted games—and the game of love and revenge spirals into something far more dangerous?

“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.

Deck the halls with daddy issues and scream "yes, Santa" until the neighbors complain. She sold herself to save her mother. He bought her to settle a score. Neither expected twelve days of captivity to feel like coming home. Ten years ago, Evangeline Rose fled Willow Creek and the cruel boy who made her life hell. Now she’s back with a new name, a new body, and one desperate choice: enter the town’s secret Christmas auction where wealthy men bid on willing women. When the hammer falls at five hundred thousand dollars, Eva expects a stranger. Instead, she gets Grayson Holt—her former tormentor, now a devastatingly dangerous man in a half-open Santa jacket who just bought twelve uninterrupted nights with the virgin he once swore no one would ever want. She should be terrified. He's the reason she hid in bathroom stalls and cried herself to sleep. But the first time he kisses her, his hands shake. The first time she fights back, he groans her name like a prayer. And somewhere between the firelight and the snow and the silk ribbons around her wrists, they both realize the ugly truth: He didn't buy her to break her. He bought her because he's been broken without her. The boy who spray-painted "fat ugly bitch" on her locker is the same man who falls to his knees in the snow on the last morning and begs her not to leave. The girl who swore she'd never forgive him is the same woman who has to choose: walk away free, or stay with the monster who finally admitted he's been in love with her since the day he made her cry. Eva spent a decade learning to hate Grayson Holt. Turns out she's been loving him the whole damn time.

“Tell me again,” he murmured, his bare chest a hot, dangerous brand against her back. His teeth grazed the shell of her ear, making her shudder. “How you want me to treat you.” She clutched the silk sheets, dragging them up to her chin, hating the tremor in her voice. “I—I want you to be professional.” A low, dark laugh ghosted over her damp skin. “Then stop looking at me like that.” His amused, arctic-blue eyes held hers captive in the bedroom mirror. She squeezed her eyes shut, wondering what in the world she’d gotten herself into. ^ ^ ^ Isabella Rossi’s life shattered when she discovered her boyfriend’s affair with her best friend, Chloe. The happy couple were even expecting a baby, and she was supposed to be happy for them. Hah. Heartbreak was just the beginning. Drunk and deceived, she woke up in the bed of a powerful, enigmatic stranger—Vincent Sinclair. She thought it was a one-time, humiliating mistake. A secret she would bury forever. Until Monday morning, when Vincent Sinclair strolled into her office as the new, ruthless CEO. And she found out he was her ex-best friend Chloe’s half-brother. Flustered but confident, she met his eyes. Men like him didn’t remember girls like her. She was sure of it. He was most likely just an entitled playboy and the faces in his bed probably blurred. But oh, how wrong she was. Vincent Sinclair remembered everything. Finding his "one-night stand" playing the part of a forgettable employee was his new favorite amusement. First, he made her his personal secretary. Then, he made her life a living, tempting hell. Finally, he served her a contract. Not for a raise—for marriage. It was absurd. But with her life in shambles and his offer too lucrative, Isabella signed.

Grote Mendoza, the Alpha of the Valkyrie pack, has an extremely strong libido. Whenever he sees my body, he can't seem to control himself at all. He's very rough with me in bed, resulting in me fainting every time we sleep with each other. "Honey, can you endure this for me one more time?" It's been seven years. This is my 99th time enduring the torturous session with Grote. Because of that, my private part suffers from severe ulceration and infection. I thought Grote loves me, but it turns out that he's just a wolf who suffers from weird fetishes. I thought he'll slowly learn how to be gentle with me for my sake. But when I watch all 99 tapes that he and his mistress, Christine Henson, have recorded of themselves going at it, I finally realize that his gentle side is never meant for me at all. Grote blames me for not being able to be with pup thanks to my private part's condition. He allows Christine to abuse and humiliate me however she wants. In fact, he even beds her before my eyes. He refuses to believe that I will ditch him. All he does is beg me relentlessly for my forgiveness and promise me that I'll be his only Luna. Apparently, having a mistress spices up his bedroom life for him. But Grote repeatedly allows Christine to humiliate me. She forces me to become her slave and keep serving her until she gives birth to her pup. I've been enduring Grote's actions for seven years. All I get is pain and abuse that keeps worsening in return. I don't want to endure the humiliation anymore, even if it means dying right here, right now. I jump into the sea without hesitation, allowing the ice-cold water to swallow me whole. I'm willing to do anything just to escape from Grote's suffocating love that's packaged as abuse… After I die in the sea, Grote completely loses control of himself and keeps looking for me everywhere he goes.

Everyone said I was Domenico Calvetti's most obedient woman. On our first wedding anniversary, he flirted with a pair of twins at the gambling table. He had lipstick smeared all over his shirt. I smiled and wiped it away with a silk handkerchief, but he swatted my hand aside. "Don't kill the mood." In the third year, the star performer from the club he ran showed up at my door with a gun pressed to my temple, demanding to take my place. Without flinching, I disarmed her using the technique he taught me and disposed of the body myself. Behind me, he held his new lover and laughed softly. "Lucia, you always know what to do." In the fifth year, he blew up the library my father left behind just to make his new flame, Marilena Rossetti, smile. That library was my mother's favorite spot when she was alive, and it held the only photographs of our family of three. The explosion made me the laughingstock of the city. People whispered, "Signora Calvetti can't even protect her own memories." Everyone believed I could never leave the Calvetti family or Domenico, but they forgot how this all started. Back then, he rescued me from my adoptive father and fell in love with me at first sight. He knelt and begged to marry me, swearing he would protect me from blood and pain for the rest of my life. For ten years, I held onto those empty words. At our tenth anniversary party, his hundredth mistress arrived. Alice Russo, fresh out of college, held a glass of red wine and poured it down my gown while Domenico watched. "Signora Calvetti, this dress is so old. Given your position, you should be wearing something better." Everyone at the party waited to see my humiliation. Instead, I lowered my eyes and dialed Domenico's father's number. "Father, the ten-year agreement is over. I won't be Signora Calvetti anymore."

My CEO wife, Cassandra Solis, has high hopes for me. In fact, she has drafted an elite training program for me. I have to work over 20 hours a day, finish every meal within 3 minutes, and spend no more than a minute in the restroom. "Honey, elites must achieve what normal people can't. Only when you become a true elite can I entrust the company to you." I can feel the major responsibility weighing down on my shoulders. Every day, I devote everything I have to work. Five years later, I've successfully taken the company public. I've also completed Cassandra's hardcore training program. But at the end-of-the-year gala, Cassandra hands over the position of the Executive Vice President—the same one that she's promised to me—to her newly-recruited assistant. Upon noticing my displeasure, Cassandra explains to me smilingly while holding a bouquet of flowers, "Oh, silly you! Having a completely useless boss is the final trial I've set up for you! Once you've completed this trial, I can finally hand the company to you!" But lines of text suddenly flash across my vision. "Oh, poor Harvey! He still has no idea that Cassandra has been training him just so he can earn more money in order to clear off Xavier's debt! Not only that, but she also steals the position Harvey has been longing for and gives it to Xavier! Cassandra really has crossed a line this time!" "You're being too dramatic. Cassandra is just paying Xavier back for his benevolence. She feels guilty for what she's done to Harvey, you know. Once she's done paying back her debt to Xavier, she'll pay attention to Harvey once again and live happily ever after with him." I'm stunned by what I see. Is this the actual purpose behind the elite training program? I'm about to pull out the terminal cancer diagnosis report, but I quickly stuff it back into my pocket. It's a shame that I'm about to die. I suppose that I can't live long enough to see that day.

To afford train tickets home for New Year's Eve, I searched for a part-time job and stumbled into a livestream that was practically throwing money at the chat. A young woman in a silk robe rested her chin on her hand. Behind her, a villa glowed under expensive lighting that reflected off polished marble floors. "Being kept in here is suffocating," she said in a voice that mixed boredom with sweetness. "My sponsor gives me more money than I can spend. Help me out. Take some off my hands." Cash drops flashed across the screen one after another. I tapped as fast as I could, my heart hammering. A few large ones landed in my account. I was close. One more would cover both my ticket and my boyfriend's. The streamer leaned closer to the camera. "He keeps saying my tear mole looks like his girlfriend's," she said, her mouth twisting with disgust. "So unlucky. Of all things, I had to match with some broke girl." My finger slipped. I had a tear mole under my eye in the same spot. The live chat flooded with questions. [How is the sponsor's girlfriend broke?] The streamer gave a short snort and reapplied her lipstick, as if correcting a minor flaw. "He's just messing around. He tricked her into 200,000 dollars in debt. She's so stupid she works multiple jobs to help him pay it off." A chill settled in my chest. My boyfriend also owed 200,000 dollars. She continued, her tone light, "The funniest part? He slept with me for three days. When he left, I asked if he was giving her a taste of honey." She smiled cruelly. "He said all he has to do is claim he's going to work a construction site hauling rebar. The idiot will feel guilty and deliver food all night. So he won't need to please her." Another large cash drop flashed across the screen. The total reached the exact amount I needed. My phone rang. Benjamin's name lit up the display. When I answered, his voice sounded worn down, as if it had scraped against concrete. "Via, we still don't have enough for the tickets," he said. "I hauled rebar and made a little over 40 dollars. I'm heading home now."

Whenever they played Truth or Dare, my boyfriend's childhood sweetheart, Clara would deliberately dare him to pull the same prank on me, and Ronan would always willingly play along: he would pretend to propose to me. The last time, I fell for it. I joyfully held out my hand, but a mechanism inside the ring snapped shut, and I cried out in pain. Ronan and Clara doubled over with laughter, ignoring my finger, which had been pinched purple. Afterward, Ronan pinned me against the wall and swore that this year, he would give me a real proposal. So when his bodyguards brought me to the private club where we first met, I changed into an expensive white silk gown, styled my hair, and applied my most exquisite makeup. I even played the touching scene out in my head, imagining myself nodding and saying yes. But as I pushed open the door to the VIP room, my heart pounding, someone threw a full glass of deep red wine in my face. It streamed down my chin and onto my gown. A woman's laughter erupted from the crowd. "I told you Aurora would show up, didn't I? Ronan, you lose!" Ronan walked over, looking resigned. He gently dabbed at my face with a napkin, his tone as soft as ever. "Dressed up just for me? A shame to ruin a good dress." "Clara dared me to bet on whether you would have the guts to come to our turf tonight. I bet that you would. The wager was this: if you didn't, I'd propose tomorrow. If you came, we'd have to wait another year." "Sorry, baby. Since you showed up, I guess we can't get married this year." The wine trickled down my collarbone, cold and sticky. I shivered. Suddenly, the whole thing felt utterly pointless. Our anniversary meant nothing compared to one of their pranks. Just like me. I could never win against Clara, his childhood sweetheart. I unclasped the simple silver bracelet, the one I'd worn for six years, from my wrist. "This is over. We're breaking up."