The Cellar Natasha Preston Novels & Stories

When Natasha, a young werewolf princess experiences her father’s dethronement following a coup by a supposed love interest, she is forced to live in the common world. Her paths cross with that of a budding young warrior, Raul with great destiny to lead the rebels against the corrupt leadership Their alliance turns romantic and a formidable force is created, evolving Natasha from the once weak, pitiful princess to a stronger and determined warrior under his tutelage, A one-night stand between them leads to a secret pregnancy and now, she has to decide which is more important; her mission to reclaim her father’s position or helping him achieve his? Natasha is torn into more dilemmas when her heart falls for another amidst the chaos. What happens when the man responsible for her father’s downfall offers her a return home? A home for her unborn children? Does she take the chance, and live as royalty again, or is she destined to live among the rebels? Where does her new love interest lead? Is it a crime to be emotionally tied to three men, but unable to choose any?

"You are mine. And no one can own you except me," Dimitri commanded, his voice cold as ice. "I am not your property," Natasha shot back, her eyes burning with defiance. "You have no right to own me." But in the dark underworld of the mafia, rights don't exist. Only power. Dimitri Volkov is a ruthless Mafia billionaire who controls everything- his empire, his enemies, and now her. When he takes Natasha captive after a violent warehouse massacre, he expects her to break like everyone else. She refuses. She fights. She challenges him in ways that ignite an obsession he can't control. Natasha is trapped in a golden cage, caught between two impossible choices. She came to his world for a reason- to access secrets that could destroy him completely. But as Dimitri's possessive love deepens and his obsession consumes them both, staying becomes harder. Leaving becomes impossible. Some prisons are built with steel. Others are built with desire. In the end, love might be the most dangerous cage of all.

Rylee Martin, a 20-year-old omega, was betrayed by her boyfriend. Heartbroken, she had an affair with his uncle. When Rylee became pregnant, her child was stolen away after birth. Will she find her child? What happens when she is employed to work as a nanny in Alpha Malakai's mansion? How did the bad boy, Alpha Malakai Preston, have a child?

Aria Laurent was supposed to be the ghost in the Devereaux estate—a convenient substitute for a sister who fled, a nameless bride in a house built on secrets. But in the cold, suffocating grip of Luca Devereaux’s world, being invisible is no longer an option. Bound by a forced marriage and watched by eyes that never blink, Aria must navigate power and silent threats. In this house, walls have ears, and the man she calls husband is a shadow she can’t escape. As the line between protection and possession blurs, Aria discovers that the darkest secrets aren’t hidden in the cellar, they’re reflected in the eyes of the man who owns her.

Natasha Harkins, the daughter of the alpha of  Blackheart Pack was asked by her father to marry Alpha Redd Larson of the Whitesword Pack. Why? Because that alpha could only save their business and the orphanage she was managing. She wouldn't allow it. She had a mate for crying out loud! It was another alpha from another pack—Alpha Ali.  She thought everything was alright between Alpha Ali and her but he suddenly called her one night saying, "I, Ali Stevens, reject Natasha Harkins as my mate.” Would she be forced to accept Alpha Redd's marriage proposal now?

My husband, Gavin Chapman, is giving his secretary, Natasha Gardner, exactly what she wants. He's making her his wife. To pull it off, he fakes a lab accident, pretends to have amnesia, and brings her home. In his office, Gavin wraps his arms around Natasha and murmurs indulgently, "Not just Mrs. Chapman. Even if you want to pretend to be the vice president for a week, I'll let you." My eyes dim, but I let the lie go on. The next day, at a press conference, Gavin holds Natasha's hand and tells the world she's his real wife. He even threatens to kick me out of the company and take over all my research data. Dozens of cameras swivel toward me, waiting for my outburst. But I stay silent and simply sign the termination papers. Gavin doesn't know that the pharmaceutical project he believes will be done in seven days isn't quite finished. There's still one final step, and I'm the only one who knows how to do it.

The day I went into labor with the twins, I bribed the family doctor to shoot me up with every heavy-duty suppressant he could get his hands on. Anything to stall the birth. Why? Because in my last life, Vincent—my husband, the Don—claimed to have a low sperm count. To guarantee an heir, he lined up ten mistresses and told the whole house: whoever popped out a son first, her kid would be the next Corleone Don. He promised if I delivered first, he'd ditch the others. Said our baby would inherit the throne. I bought every word. When I found out I was carrying twins, I couldn't stop shaking—I thought I'd won. But after I gave birth, he tossed me and the babies into the freezing wine cellar and locked the place down. "Lucy came from nothing. I just wanted to give her kid a name. You started rumors, pushed her into despair, and now she's dead—her and the baby. You're vile. Not fit to be the Don's wife. Think about what you've done. I'll open the door in three days." Then he had the butler seal it shut. What he didn't know? That night, the cellar caught fire. Me and my babies? Burned alive. When I opened my eyes again, I was back—right before labor. This time, I'm not staying. Soon as I deliver and get back on my feet, I'm taking my kids and disappearing for good.

I had been married to Natasha Bates for ten years, and not once did she ever join me for our family's Independence Day cookout. This year, on the night before the celebration, I finally gathered the courage to ask if she wanted to come. She scoffed and said, "What are you, stuck in the past? Who even celebrates the Fourth with a family dinner anymore?" Yet that very evening, I saw a social media post of Natasha with her male best friend, Stanley Rogers. They were quite intimate in the picture, and the caption read: [True happiness is celebrating Independence Day with your bestie!] I commented back: [Hope you two lovebirds make it official soon.] Stanley did not hold back. He messaged me a bunch of intimate photos of the two of them. Then, he added, [You're just a leech living off his wife. What right do you have to question anything about Nattie?] Everyone always thought I was a gold-digger living off Natasha's success. However, they all forgot that I was the sole major shareholder of the company. This time, I’m done staying silent.

When Selena Sloane takes her assistant, Preston Jones, to the hospital in order to get his lower back checked out, her 18-year-old self is in the middle of making out with me while having me pinned against the wall. "Darling, how is it that you smell so good and your kisses are still this amazing despite being 30 years old? Oh, I love you so much, darling! "By the way, where did my 30-year-old self go? Why isn't she here to pick you up after work?" I push Young Selena off me sadly. That's when I happen to meet the 30-year-old Selena's icy gaze. "You already have a mistress of your own, and yet you still can't bear to get a divorce from me, hmm? Zack Holt, you really are pathetic." As I watch the older Selena supporting Preston and walking away, the younger Selena starts kicking up a fuss in my arms once again. "That idiot! How dare she speak to my darling so arrogantly? Why, I might as well kill myself right now so that she'll disappear from this world as well!"

My younger sister, Natasha Carter, is three months pregnant when she is delivered to a group of rich scions, who decide to play a special game with her that involves guessing her baby's gender. Unable to escape from them, poor Natasha chooses to commit suicide after suffering from a mental breakdown. Her naked body is later on discovered lying in a puddle of her own blood. I'm enraged, to say the least. My wife, Josephine Floyd, is equally furious, too. She claims that she will seek justice on Natasha's behalf. But when her childhood friend, Jacob Keller, flaunts the fact that he's the mastermind of that game, Josephine changes her tune instantly and advises me to be more gracious. "Jacob is a playful guy. Don't take what he did to heart, yeah?" Jacob remains nonchalant as ever. "Natasha got pregnant out of wedlock, after all. Yet, she pretended to be a chaste virgin." With reddened eyes, I sock Jacob in the face. I want him to pay the price with his own life too. But Josephine responds by smashing a wine bottle into my head. Then, she tosses a luxury watch she has intended to give to the winner onto my face. "Your sister is the shameless one here, Horace! Here, this watch should be enough to compensate for your loss! "Jacob is the heir of the Keller family, you know! A broke peasant like you should learn to be grateful with what you have!" With a sneer, I smash the watch into splinters. Trust me, this watch is incapable of saving Jacob and the other scions from the wrath of the family that has sired two generations of secret agents who've been carrying out classified missions for the nation.