Spoon-fed

"Look, if I told you I loved you, it would be a lie," I said to him. "But I love you, Anika," he responded, his eyes filled with sadness. "I don't feel the same way. I am content with my life as it is. I don't believe in love, and I value my freedom too much to give it up," I explained to him, hoping he would understand. "Please, just give me a chance. I promise I'll make you happy," he pleaded. "Stop..." I interrupted, feeling exhausted by his continuous pleading. "I'll do whatever you ask, I'll even change-" "Just stop!" I finally yelled, unable to tolerate any more of his words. "Why would you love me when I clearly stated my aversion to relationships?" I screamed in frustration. "I thought we could give our friendship a try, but you ruined it all by falling in love with me. Let's not see each other again," I firmly stated and walked away. *** Anika Rebecca Downs, a 23-year-old woman, appears to have it all. She possesses beauty, a charismatic figure, wealth, popularity, and all the good things one could desire. However, there is one crucial thing missing from her life – love. This absence stems from her past experiences of being used by men who were drawn to her wealth. Fed up with the constant disappointment, Anika vowed to never fall in love again. But what happens when Kelvin Birtch enters the picture? Kelvin was an appealing man who works for her company. At first, she tries to deny the growing attraction she feels towards him. However, how long can she suppress her feelings? And what will happen when her manipulating ex resurfaces in her life? To uncover the answers to these questions and more, delve into the rest of the book... :)

"Strip for me," he commanded, his ice-blue eyes devouring her. "Tonight, I take what's mine." I thought I knew betrayal when I caught my fiancé's balls-deep in another woman. I thought I'd hit rock bottom when that woman turned out to be my TWIN SISTER. But the real knife in my back? He was her boyfriend first. For eight months, she fed him every secret about me—my fears, my dreams, my insecurities—so he could seduce me, make me fall in love, and destroy me when it hurt the most. Why? Because she's always hated that I'm successful. That I'm respected. That people love me for who I am, not what I look like. So there I was—promoted, engaged, happy—walking into my fiancé's apartment to celebrate... only to find him f*cking my sister against the wall while she smirked at me over his shoulder. "Surprise, sister. He was always mine." I should've gone home. I should've cried. Should've been the victim they wanted me to be. Instead, I walked into the most exclusive bar in New York and caught the attention of the most dangerous man in the city. Dante Ashford. Billionaire. My ex-fiancé's boss. Sex personified. And currently getting pleasured by a beautiful blonde in the VIP lounge—while staring directly at ME. He said my name while another woman's mouth was on him. Then he dismissed her with one cold word: "Leave." When I demanded to know how he knew who I was, he smiled like the devil making a deal. "I know everything about you. Your cheating fiancé and backstabbing sister. I know exactly how to make them pay." His offer was simple: Marry me. Destroy them. I'll give you power, wealth, and revenge. My response shocked us both: "I'll marry you. But first... take my virginity. Tonight."

After giving birth to Alpha Wesley Silvermoon's pup, I fell into severe postpartum depression. Whenever the scent he left on me began to fade, I couldn't help but have the urge to hurt myself. It was Wesley who held me tight in his arms, kissing my forehead repeatedly, saying, "Don't be afraid, Maggie. The pup and I will stay with you, always." Every morning, he took me to see a therapist. In the afternoon, he handled the pack's affairs. At night, he fed Brett the pup himself. The dark circles beneath his eyes grew heavier by the day, yet he never once complained. Until one day. Brett was crying for his mother, while I hid in the bathroom, hurting myself. When Wesley saw what happened, he completely lost it. He grabbed me by the throat viciously. "If you don't want a pup, you shouldn't have had one! You gave birth to it, but you can't even take care of it! You don't deserve to be a mother!" He bellowed, "How much longer are you going to torment this family? You want to die so badly? Fine! I'll help you!" The moment he said that, he instantly came back to his senses. He broke his wrist and apologized to me. I didn't say anything, merely staring blankly at the phone that had fallen to the floor. The screen was still lit. 37 missed calls. All from the same name. Rowena Sawthorne. She was someone who had recently returned to the pack. Wesley's first love from his youth. She was healthy, beautiful, confident. She and Wesley were once the celebrity couple that everyone admired. Even Brett, whom I had nearly died giving birth to, would smile when she held him in her arms. Perhaps only she was worthy of being his mate, worthy of being Brett's mother. Maybe, this was for the best. At last, I could die without any worry.

My mom was born with a silver spoon in her mouth. Her life is smooth-sailing most of the time. The only mistake she's ever made is falling for my dad. That's why she insists on finding me a husband who's the complete opposite of my dad. My dad is tall and intimidating-looking, so Mom wants someone who's short and perverted-looking. My dad is a knowledgeable and well-read man, so Mom wants a guy who has only graduated from elementary school. My dad prioritizes his moral integrity more than anything else, so Mom prefers a guy who drinks, gambles, and sleeps around. She tells me, "This type of man is easy to manipulate, unlike your father, who just divorced me out of nowhere!" It's true that the man Mom has chosen for me won't divorce me. After all, he leeches from me on top of beating me up. It's not enough to leech my money from me, it seems—he just has to take everything from me. My mom says in a righteous tone, "This is the only way that proves you're valuable to him. He won't divorce you at all." I've fought back and escaped from my husband many times. Every time I do, my mom will trick me into returning to him by hurting herself. As always, I'm greeted with another round of beating whenever I do return to him. Mom will take me to the hospital to get my injuries treated. Then, she'll say, "Hurry up and give birth to a son for him. Once you have a son, you'll be extremely valuable to your husband. He won't beat you up anymore." Today is supposed to be the day Mom takes me to the hospital to check my ovulation timing. She spends a long time calling me on the phone, yet I never pick up. After that, she sends me a few audio messages that last for 60 seconds each just to lecture me. "Beatrice Anderson, what makes you think you can just ignore my calls? The hospital check-up is for your own good! As long as you can get pregnant with a son, your husband will be wrapped around your finger! He won't divorce you after this! Why can't you understand how much I care for you?" I seriously can't understand at all. After all, I've gotten beaten to death yesterday. My corpse is cut into 28 chunks, and they are being frozen in the fridge as I speak.

I was born with a rare condition. My blood carried healing properties strong enough to neutralize any poison. When Garrett Frank, the young heir from Osbury, was bitten by a venomous snake, he was hanging by a thread. In that desperate moment, I slit my wrist and used my blood to cleanse the venom from his body. Only later did I find out that whoever saved Garrett's life would become the future Mrs. Frank. But after Garrett took over the family business, the first thing he did was drain every drop of blood from my body and have me chopped up and fed to his dogs. "At that time, Loretta had already brought the antidote," he had said coldly. "If you had just waited another five minutes, I could've married her openly and honorably. "But you had to interfere. You stole her place as Mrs. Frank, drove her into despair, and pushed her to take her own life. Since you claim your blood can cure any poison, let's see how much antidote it can make." They bled me dry and threw me into a cage for his dogs. I died there, torn apart and unrecognizable. Afterward, my parents went bankrupt because of the Franks. Both of them took poison and died together. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day Garrett had been bitten by the snake. Michelle Frank, Garrett's mother, looked at me with desperate hope. "I heard you have that rare healing blood," she said. "Will you please save my son?" I quickly shook my head. "That's just a rumor, Mrs. Frank. And honestly, using blood as medicine sounds pretty unsanitary. Please don't worry. I heard Ms. Huber is on her way with a special antidote. Your son will be fine!" Still, a small part of me couldn't help looking forward to what would happen. If I didn't step in this time, Garrett wouldn't just fail to inherit the family business—he'd be lucky to live another month!

I was in a car accident while saving my brothers. However, instead of gratitude, they urged the doctors to amputate my legs. "Carol, we're sorry," they said through tears. "We're useless… but don't worry. Even if we have to sell our blood or our kidneys, we'll make sure you're taken care of." Right after surgery, they abandoned me in a shabby apartment. Blood seeped through the sheets as they looked at me with teary eyes—then left in a hurry, claiming they needed to earn money for my treatment. I did not want to drag them down anymore. Enduring the pain, I crawled to the rooftop of a tall building, planning to end my life. That's when I saw it—inside a luxury hotel, a grand celebration was taking place. My brothers were there doting on another girl. She was eating an extravagant cake I had never even dreamed of, wearing a designer princess gown worth a fortune, sparkling with jewels. Everyone called her the Smith family's one and only princess. They had even hired a world-class symphony orchestra to play Happy Birthday just for her. While I lay bleeding in a dingy apartment, they would not spend a few dollars on bandages for me. I watched as my eldest brother gently fed her cake, his eyes full of tenderness. "Jasmine, only you deserve to be our one and only little sister." The second brother placed a tiara on her head with care. "Even for the smallest birthday, we won't let you suffer a single moment of disappointment." The third knelt to help her into a pair of crystal shoes. "Jasmine, you're our most precious darling." Then, standing on the stage, Jasmine held up the black credit card they had gifted her and smiled sweetly. "Brothers," she said, "Carol lost her legs saving you. Maybe you should go see how she's doing?" My eldest brother let out a mocking laugh. "She's not worth it. Now that she's crippled, she'll never be able to compete with you again. She got what she deserved."

Her nipples pebbled instantly under thin silk,clit throbbing against soaked panties. He didn’t rise. He just watched her approach like prey, voice low and rough. “Kneel.” The command slammed into her cunt. Her knees buckled, hitting carpet hard. Slick dripped down her thighs; she trembled in needy. He smirked, filthy. “Already dripping for a stranger, desperate little slut.” She whimpered, hips twitching. Thick fingers gripped her chin, thumb shoving into her mouth. “Tell Daddy what this greedy pussy craves.” Her voice broke. “Please, Daddy, touch me. Fuck me raw. Stretch me on your thick cock. Use me like your filthy whore. I need you inside me now.” His eyes darkened. “Such a dirty mouth.” He fisted her hair, yanked her face to his straining bulge. She mouthed it desperately, inhaling musk and heat, tongue pressing through denim. He unzipped slowly. Heavy, veined cock sprang free, glistening tip leaking. “Open wide, baby.” She obeyed. He fed her the head, then deeper, thrusting until she gagged, drool spilling, eyes watering as she moaned around him. “Good girl. Choke on Dad's cock.” He pulled out, spun her, bent her over the couch arm. Skirt flipped up, panties ripped aside. “Fuck, look at this soaked, dripping cunt. Made for me.” Two thick fingers plunged in, curling hard. She screamed, walls clenching. Then his cock slammed balls-deep in one brutal thrust. The stretch burned into ecstasy; he fucked her mercilessly, hips slapping, hand on her throat, ass stinging from sharp slaps. “Who owns this pussy?” “You do, Daddy, please.” “Beg for my cum. Beg me to breed you.” “Please, fill me, breed me, pump me full.” He pulled out slow, watching his spend drip from her wrecked hole. Then softer, he kissed her forehead. “My perfect, filthy girl. Daddy’s just getting started.”