The Chair Fic Phan

I hid behind the study curtains, heart racing with a fragile, trembling joy. In my hands: an ultrasound photo—two heartbeats—and a no-limit black card. Alessandro had given it to me last night, his lips on my neck, calling me his Donna, his queen. Tonight, I was going to tell him about the twins. "The Petrov family needs to see my good faith," his voice drifted in, smooth as velvet. "Vittoria arrives Thursday. I’ll announce the engagement then." My blood froze. "What about Elena?" someone asked. "She’s been with you three years. She manages the books, dug that slug out of your side herself. Is this fair to her?" "Elena?" He leaned back in the leather chair, cigar smoke curling around his jaw. "She’s like a trained hound, Salvatore. After the Rossi family got wiped out, I pulled her from the gutter, gave her a gun and a bed. Have you ever seen a hound leave its master? I could kick her, and she would lick my boot and ask for another." My nails sank into my palms, crumpling the ultrasound. "Aren’t you afraid she’ll leave?" Marco, his Capo, asked. Alessandro paused. Then he said: "She would die for me without question. How could she ever leave?" Those words struck my chest like two 9mm rounds. I didn't wait. I ran through the cemetery, past the tombs of dead Dons, and hurled that card into the Hudson. I vanished into the night with his heirs in my womb and three years of lies in my throat. "I'm sorry, my babies," I whispered to my belly. "Mommy was a fool." But I wouldn't be a fool anymore.

In the heart of the SilverStone Pack, Sabrina Evergreen is chained to an Alpha who despises her. Her Husband, Alpha Damien Prince has spent two years punishing her for the murder of his true love, Elara, Sabrina’s twin sister. Yet beneath the loathing burns a raw, vivid, hunger. Every time her scent fills the room, Damien’s cock hardens, his wolf snarls mine, and he hates her more for it. When a rogue ambush leaves Damien broken and unable to fuck the wife he both craves and despises—he makes a ruthless decision: share her. He invites his bond brothers, Lucius and Thorne Blackwood, his best friends and Sabrina’s estranged stepbrothers—to take her body until he can reclaim it himself. What begins as punishment becomes obsession. Thorne pins Sabrina down with bruising grips and filthy taunts, fucking her hard and deep while whispering how much he hates that he needs her. Lucien binds her wrists, edges her until she’s sobbing, then fills her slow and deliberate, murmuring dark praises against her throat. Damien watches from his chair—cock throbbing in his hand, commanding every thrust, every moan, every time she comes apart. The lines blur fast. Rough hands turn tender. Hateful words melt into desperate confessions. And the true mate bond Sabrina’s hidden for years begins to roar awake—not just for Damien, but for all three of them. As rogue attacks escalate and a blood debt from the past demands her life as payment, Sabrina is forced to confront the truth: the men who own her body might finally want her heart. But trust is fragile, and betrayal cuts deepest when it comes from the ones who’ve already claimed every inch of you.

“How long has this been going on?” Fatima’s voice is steady, almost too steady. Her husband of six years stands there without a hint of shame. “Does it matter, Fatima? Yes, Leslie is pregnant with my child, but nothing is going to change,” he says, annoyed that she dares question him. Her calmness makes him shift, though he refuses to show it. “How. Long?” She repeats slowly, keeping her voice low so she won’t wake their sleeping children. “Three years.” Fatima blinks. “You’ve been cheating on me for half our marriage… with your business partner?” “Lower your voice. Don’t make it sound bad. I’m a man – these things happen.” He even chuckles. “Leslie will be taken care of. You’ll stay the wife, and Leslie and I–” “Will get married,” she cuts in. He stares, thrown off, until she adds, “Top drawer in your office. Divorce papers. Sign them first thing tomorrow.” No tears. No raised voice. No trembling. Just calm finality, and that unsettles him more than anger ever could. “I’m not letting that happen. You’re my wife.” “Ex-wife,” she corrects softly. Before he can react, Fatima pushes her chair back and stands. She doesn’t storm off or slam anything. She simply picks up a magazine from the table and walks out with quiet, controlled steps, far too composed for a woman ending a six-year marriage. And that hits him harder than any shouting would have. No tears. No pleading. No hesitation. Nothing. It wounds his pride. He deserves tears. “Hold on,” he snaps, rising quickly from his seat.

“Think about it," Trapping her between his arms and the chair, he continued. "I’m giving a once in a life time deal, Noelle,” Purposely, he leaned closer in a teasing manner and surprisingly, relished in the way Noelle shrank back. “Become my wife…be mine, and I’d give to you, whatsoever your heart desires. Money, fame, protection, you just name it and you’ll have it; Tesoro.” ~•~ Noelle is an ambitious, hardworking woman whose world crumbles when her long-term boyfriend, Jason, humiliates her by breaking up with her during their anniversary dinner. The reason? He’s found a new girlfriend, whose wealthier than she is. Heartbroken and crushed by the reality of her miserable life, Noelle drowns her sorrows at a nightclub, where she ends up sharing a night of passion with a mysterious stranger. She leaves the next morning, leaving behind only a note, assuming they’ll never cross paths again. When Noelle confides her heartbreak to her best friend, Elena, they investigate Ivette’s background and discover that her wealth stems from her uncle. With this knowledge comes about their ultimate revenge plan: seduce the powerful tycoon and teach Jason a lesson. But her plan takes an unexpected turn when she meets the infamous Wallace Castellano, who turns out to be the same man she had a one night stand with—and he’s far more than just a tycoon. As the head of Italy’s top Mafia organization, Wallace’s world is as seductive as it is treacherous. Drawn into his orbit, Noelle finds herself navigating a web of power, danger, and undeniable passion. But revenge has its price, and as secrets unravel and enemies close in, Noelle must decide: is she willing to risk her heart—and her life—for a man who could destroy her?

Love…. You could lose yourself in it or find yourself. It all depends on you. Jealousy…. It drives one to the edge of madness. It paralyzes the mind, and drains the heart, damaging the soul. It teaches you what it takes to care. That's what their relationship was made up of. His eyes made her shiver with pleasure, it took her to euphoria. That's what she felt whenever she was with him, but not every day was sunshine and rainbows. He made her cry, he made her feel pain. He taught her the real definition of love; pleasure and pain. She liked how cold and rough he could get and he liked how innocent she played. He liked teaching her new things and she liked learning from the best. They'd survive the intoxication of each other. They made it further than they thought they would on the grounds of love, jealousy and pain. "What are you looking at?” he asked looking in the direction she was looking, “So... That's your type, huh?" he whispered in her ear with his hand on her thigh, clearly pissed. Siana moved away slightly from his warm breathe blasting on her face and his hand squeezing her thigh firmly. "Everyone out now!" he shouted then a smile came bursting through it all. She was alone shaking with fear and anxiety. She knew how he'd get whenever he was displeased, she knew the kind of psycho he was. He pulled her up from the chair and pushed her up against the wall, her hands enfolded in his and her breath breaking. He looked down then back up at her with a tiring look on his face and sighed "You know you really drive me crazy." his lips hovering over hers.

Heavy BDSM content at your own risk. ⚠️ ‼️ ~Camila~ I sat across him with my legs crossed as i stared into those dark gray orbs that always seem to have me lost and lust in its depth. "When am I going to leave, Luciano?" I finally spoke, breaking the silence that had stretched since I'd entered his office. He said nothing for a moment, then stood up and walked towards me. He leaned in close, his elbows resting on the armrests of my chair, trapping me between him and the back of the chair. His thumb pressed lightly against my bottom lip, and my breath hitched. "Are you really asking me that, Gem?" He whispered, his voice a husky caress against my ear. His gaze was intense, and I felt a heat spread through my body. "You lost your freedom the day you stepped into my life, Gem." He continued, his breath warm against my skin. "And I'm afraid to say I can't let you go, never." I bit my lip, swallowing the lump in my throat. Despite the cool temperature of the room, I felt suffocated, the heat pooling in my lower pantie making it impossible to ignore his presence. He was right, I had lost my freedom the day I decided to sell my soul to this monster. He had killed the angel in me and made me his own little devil. Accepting Luciano and everything he did was dangerous, like signing my name on a contract to burn in hell for eternity. He was the demon that tortured me, the reason I was living in this gilded cage. Accepting Luciano and what he does was dangerous, it was like signing my eternity to burn in hell as long as he was the demon that tortured me...

On my birthday, I personally prepare 16 dishes. After setting up the candlelight, I open a bottle of red wine. I take a photo and send it to my husband, Eric Sinclair. "I'm working late tonight. Don't wait for me," he replies. I choose to believe him. But after midnight, I notice an Instagram story posted by Shirley Huxley, his secretary. Eric was there with her, dressed in the trench coat I once gave him. They sat side by side in the VIP seat of football stadium where my favorite Super Bowl take place. Entwined in a passionate embrace, they kissed beneath a sea of shimmering lights and the roar of thousands of fans. That game is the one I have always longed to experience with him. I look down at the cold food on the table. Eric's words keep ringing in my head. "I hate kissing." "Marriage is a partnership, not about love and kisses." Though we've been married for ten years, we've never shared a single kiss. Meanwhile, he's out there, kissing Shirley openly and passionately. Despite it all, not a single tear falls from my eyes. The next day, Eric settles into his chair, completely unfazed. "Return the gallery to Shelly," he commands. I nod quietly, saying nothing. Suddenly, Layla Sinclair, my daughter, comes running down the stairs and throws herself into Shirley's arms. "Aunt Shirley, you're my favorite. I don't like Mom!" In that instant, it hits me—the home I devoted my heart and soul to means nothing anymore. It doesn't matter that I've been married to Eric for a decade. Now, all I want is to find myself again. I decide to accept an invitation from the Parisoir School of Fashion Design. From this moment on, I won't wait for them to come home, and I won't look back.

**This is the sequel to University of Love. It can be read as a stand alone book. ** Ember has grown up believing she had no wolf, magic or dragon. Her twin, Ash, on the other hand has had it all. Deciding it best to transfer to a human high school, she ends up meeting her mate, a hybrid just like her. Her mate brings out her dormant wolf, causing Ember's life to unravel. She thought she would be happier once she got her wolf, instead her life has only gotten more complicated. Having been decieved before, Ember has a hard time accepting the mate bond. Can she overcome her past to find happiness with her mate? What happens when a siren comes into play? Can she stay the course and accept her mate? *********************** I went to grab the microscope from the center of the table at the same time Toni did. Our hands touched and my head started to ring loudly... a terrible headache brewed. Where his hand touched mine felt like fireworks had gone off. My hairs stood on my arms, goosebumps ran through me.  I grabbed my head from all the ringing. It was so loud and strong. I squeezed at my temples, wincing at the pain.  "Mate." Toni's wolf said so silently, I almost didn't hear it.  I started getting dizzy, my head was spinning, and my vision was tunneling. Can I have a mate? I don't even have a wolf. Shouldn't he be with someone with someone that does?  "Ember?" His voice rang in my ear, but it was too late. I was falling out of my chair, passing out. I felt him catch me before I hit the floor, his touch sent fireworks through me, before the darkness took me.

I stare at the email on my screen, unable to move my fingers. Tomorrow is our company's crucial product launch, and I just learn that the patent for the algorithm I spent three years developing is now filed under Matthew Ashford's new assistant, Sophie Bennett. I storm into Matthew's office to confront him. Sophie sits on his desk with her legs crossed, looking completely innocent. She claims that she filled out the form by mistake. "It's just a clerical error. The patent still belongs to the company. What's the big deal?" Matthew stands up from his chair, positioning himself in front of Sophie. I can't believe what I am hearing. "Matthew, this is my research!" "Emma, you're thirty-five. Why are you picking a fight with a twenty-three-year-old intern?" He frowns. Then, he turns to Sophie. "Starting tomorrow, you're the new CTO. Emma needs… some time off." I'm utterly stunned. A decade of marriage and five years dedicated to building a company together have been shattered by a few casual words from him. Thirty minutes later, Sophie posts a photo on social media of herself sitting on Matthew's lap. They are both clinking champagne glasses. "So lucky to have the best boss ever. I'll make sure to be his loyal kitten." Below that, Matthew leaves a comment—three red heart emojis. I shut my laptop and pick up my phone. "Hello. Is this Mr. David Langley from Novara Group of Sundale Valley? This is Emma Whitmore. I've changed my mind. I'm ready to join you." I pause. "And by the way, about that unreleased algorithm upgrade, I have the complete technical blueprint. Make me an offer." Later, I fly to Tallisport with an eight-figure check in hand, while Matthew goes frantic trying to find me.

After I get abducted to an underground auction house belonging to a mafia family based in Aleroth, I become the most popular commodity ever in the live stream hosted on the dark web. As the live comments flood the screen and the viewers keep tipping the live stream, I feel my legs being forced open inch by inch. The electric chair beneath me keeps pulsing me with jolts of electricity, making me tremble uncontrollably. Men keep rearranging my limbs however they want in various positions. Then, they put me through all sorts of torture, as if I'm not a human being at all. Once everything is over, I can only curl into a small ball in a corner of the iron cage. My clothes are completely disheveled, and my gaze remains hollow and lifeless. That's when I hear someone speaking in Elythran, a language I'm familiar with. "Haha! That chick still thinks she can escape from this place!" "To think that the mafia princess of Elythra ends up getting lured to this place and reduced to a common whore for us to toy with! Those brothers really are ruthless!" "I heard the brothers did this just to appease their adopted younger sister, Emilia Ricci. That's why they ordered us to put up a show. Even the people tipping on the live stream are actors they've hired to make this show perfect." "This idiot is still waiting for her brothers to come rescue her! Last night, she kept crying out to them in her sleep, begging them to save her!" As the henchmen speak, they open the door to my room, only to be stunned by the blood-stained floor. Immediately, they dig out their phones and begin dialing numbers anxiously. The moment I make out one of the numbers, I feel my blood turn into ice. It appears that the so-called abduction is just a show that my brothers have put on just to appease Emilia… I can feel blood rising in my throat. As my vision goes blurry, I think I see another man's gentle expression. That's the memory that I've kept buried deep inside my heart—the memory of my actual older brother, Silvio Gallo.