Novel & Cerita The Silk House

“I know you’re pregnant, Valentina. That’s why you have to die tonight. Two lives for the price of one. Efficiency was always my strong suit.” On her third wedding anniversary, Valentina is gifted a shallow grave. Her husband, Kennedy, was never a billionaire. He was a fraud who drugged her, watched her drown in a poisoned bath, and buried her so he could marry his mistress. He never expected the gardener to hesitate. Never imagined she would claw her way out of the mud, pregnant, broken, and alive. And he certainly didn’t expect her to return. Dragged from the storm by Ian Kingston, a titan so powerful Kennedy is nothing more than a disposable employee, Valentina finds herself mistaken for Misha, Ian’s vanished wife. “You have 365 days to prove you aren’t her, little bird. Until then, you wear my name, share my bed, and follow my rules.” Trapped in a ruthless case of mistaken identity, Valentina signs the contract and becomes Misha Kingston, cold, untouchable, wrapped in emerald silk and Ian’s dangerous protection. The next time Kennedy sees the wife he buried, she isn’t in a coffin. She’s on his boss’s arm. Wearing a crown. Looking down at him from a throne he can never touch. But Valentina hides a child conceived by her enemy… While being claimed by a king who refuses to let her go. He buried a wife. Now he’ll kneel before a goddess.

I died with my husband's betrayal on my lips and my unborn child in my womb. One moment I was Mia Weston — billionaire, wife, mother-to-be. The next, I was gone. Erased. Traded like a chess piece by the man who swore to love me forever. Then I woke up. Silk sheets. Marble walls. A maid calling me "My Lady." And a father I had never met looking me dead in the eyes saying — "You have been promised to King Zyren of the Draconis Throne. You leave at sunrise." I thought I was dreaming. I was wrong. King Zyren is not a man. He is ancient, ruthless, and devastatingly beautiful in the way that only dangerous things are. He doesn't smile. He doesn't explain. He simply looks at me like I am something he has been waiting for — and that look alone makes my whole body tremble. He calls me his traded bride. I call him my nightmare. But nightmares don't look at you like you are the only breathable air in a burning room. Nightmares don't press you against cold stone walls and whisper "You will learn your place, little human" with a voice so deep it rewrites your bones. And nightmares definitely don't make you forget — even for one dangerous, breathless second — the man who killed you. I was sold to settle a debt. He had waited centuries for exactly me. Neither of us was prepared for what came next.

He stole the wrong girl. Or maybe… she chose the right king. Dante Valenti rules his empire with cold precision and a reputation soaked in blood. No one crosses him. No one deceives him. And no one escapes him. So when he kidnaps a woman from the Moretti estate—a trembling little princess meant to be leverage—he expects fear. Instead, the woman chained in his basement looks him dead in the eyes… and smiles. Aria Moretti has spent years hiding behind silk dresses and a porcelain mask, pretending to be the quiet, obedient daughter of the Moretti crime family. But beneath the pretty facade lies a secret no one suspects: She is the Moretti’s most lethal weapon. A phantom. A blade disguised as a flower. And she walked willingly into the lion’s den for one reason— to kill Dante Valenti. Her mission is simple: Get captured. Get close. Get his trust. End the king. But nothing about Dante is simple. The moment he discovers who she truly is, he doesn’t kill her. He claims her. "You came to kill me, little killer... but every king needs a queen.” Now, Aria is caught in a deadly dance between loyalty and desire, betrayal and obsession. Dante matches her darkness note for note—twisted, brilliant, and devastatingly irresistible. He should be her target. Instead, he’s becoming her temptation. And the deeper she falls, the clearer the truth becomes: She isn’t the only weapon in this war. Dante has claws of his own— and he’s willing to use every one of them to keep her.

In the three years we've been married, Colin Luther never touches me once. Living in the room next door is Rebecca Jennings, his adopted younger sister with no blood relation to him. She supposedly suffers from severe androphobia. Whenever she sees any man other than Colin, she trembles uncontrollably. Whenever she has nightmares in the middle of the night, Colin immediately leaves me and rushes to her room. So, the master bedroom is given to her. I sleep on a folding bed in the study, and Colin sleeps on the floor outside her door to stand guard. Every week, my mother-in-law, Alicia Brooks, comes by with the soup she made herself. The first thing she does is go into Rebecca's room. Only after that does she spare me a glance. She says, "Nat, remember to hand-wash Becca's underwear. Her skin is sensitive, so it can't go in the washing machine." My father-in-law, Isaac Luther, is even worse. At our last family gathering, he slaps his thigh in front of their relatives and says, "If Becca weren't sick, I'd want her to be my daughter-in-law!" I simply smile while serving the dishes and say nothing. For three years, I endure everything in silence. But yesterday, I find two items hidden beneath Rebecca's pillow. There is the silk camisole that went missing six months ago and a pack of birth control pills with only two tablets left. Androphobia? Well, today is our third wedding anniversary. It's time for a proper celebration.

My brother Christopher owned a boutique on Fifth Avenue. I'd gone in, picked out a few pieces, grabbed a silk scarf on the way, and was heading for the door. The clerk behind the register stopped me. "Ma'am, we'll need you to settle this now." I looked up. Her name tag said Yvonne. Unfamiliar face. Probably new. I didn't think much of it. "Just put it on the owner's account," I said politely. "He knows who I am." She gave a little snort through her nose, eyes raking from my hair down to my shoes. "We don't run accounts here. You might have the wrong store." She pushed an itemized bill across the counter. Four hundred thousand dollars. I scanned the line items. Personal Style Consultation. Premium Fitting Service. VIP Client Private Service. Every single charge cost more than the clothes themselves. I let out a short laugh. "I'm a Whitfield. Christopher's my brother. Whatever this is, he can deal with it at home." Her smile got uglier. "Anyone can claim to be a Whitfield, sweetheart. Are you trying to skip out on the bill, or are you just trying to embarrass yourself?" I didn't bother arguing. I pulled out my phone and texted Christopher: [Fire the clerk named Yvonne in the next ten minutes, or I pull every dollar I have in this store.]

On the morning of her wedding to Alpha Caelum Sterling, in front of six hundred guests, Ariadne "Ari" Voss is publicly rejected. Her cousin Isolde is named Luna in her place. Ari does not beg. She does not weep. She does not look back. What no one knows is that she walks out of the ceremony carrying the Sterling Pack's inner sanctum ledger the financial record book she stole during the rejection itself. Five years later, Ari returns to the Northern packs to bury her father. She returns as the owner of the largest werewolf-tech investment firm in the Free Cities. As the controlling shareholder of six Northern pack businesses, including the Sterling Pack's main revenue source. As the woman Alpha Caelum Sterling rejected on the floor of his own ballroom and now owes nine hundred million Free Cities credits. Caelum's marriage to Isolde has collapsed. The Sterling Pack is financially failing. And the morning Ari's plane lands in the Northern Hollow, Caelum learns that his pack's largest creditor is the rejected first mate he threw away. He wants her back. But Ari did not survive five years in the Free Cities to come home for a second chance with the man who destroyed her. She came home to take everything he loves and burn it to the ground. And there is one thing Caelum does not yet know one mark hidden beneath the collar of Ari's silk blouse, one bond she has been carrying in secret for three years. She belongs to the Lycan King. And the Lycan King is on his way to the Northern Hollow.

Rebecca had it all planned out, she had the career, the house, the guy who ticked all the boxes. Sure life was a little dull, but that's what happens when you grow up, doesn't it? Then one day, the guy she thought she'd marry decided he wasn't sure and with the help of her best friend and a rather unconventional bucket list, Rebecca might find out that being a grown up, doesn't have to be dull at all.

He was the most feared villain in all of new Orleans, ruthless and spiteful but in spite of all that he wasn't happy because he had all the wealth and connection a person could only dream of but was lacking in one area, LOVE She was a bookstore owner, a nerd and good Samaritan. when a stranger break into her house at midnight hurt and injured she has two choices call the cops or help him. Find out which choice she chooses on the mafia wants my heart

For a man whom she has spent 7 years with, married for 3, infertility was enough for him to cast her aside, replacing her with his mistress whom was already pregnant. But maybe getting cast aside was a blessing in disguise, Elisa returns home to regain her rightful place as the heiress of the Gilbert's house, and what follows after is the continuous regret of her Ex-husband. After all, the saying goes this way: You don't know the value of what you have until you lose it.

We had been married for 24 years. Twenty-four years of what I thought was happy. He got everything he wanted. The house he chose. The truck he loved. The vacations he picked. I made sure life ran smoothly so he never had to question comfort. And apparently, comfort made him bored. That’s how I met Vincent. Not in person. On Tinder. Same smile. Same scar on his chin. Same wedding ring conveniently missing.