Unscramble Splash

On the morning of her wedding day, Chelsea saw her sister moan under her fiancé's embraces. Later that night after she canceled her wedding, she got drunk and called a night escort service for revenge sex. So she spends the night together under the influence of alcohol. Little did she know that the man she thought was a night escort, turns out to be Liam Shax, the narcissistic CEO! As she feels guilty thinking that she had raped someone, Chelsea is about to jump into the river. "I'll give you a purpose to live! So come down first,” as Liam's voices reach her ears, she turned around. "What purpose?" "To bear my child." ".... euw." -splash!- "Did she just say 'euw' before jumping?" "Yes ... sir. SIR?!" Liam jumps to the river.

The moment the acid hit my skin, I heard my own flesh sizzle. In the last moments before my consciousness faded, my trembling fingers managed to dial my brother, the new Don of the Steele family. To my relief, Farrow finally answered. The sounds of expensive jazz and clinking glasses bled through the receiver. His voice was cold as ice. "What is it this time, Grace?" "Farrow... help me..." He cut me off before I could finish. "Listen, Betty's book launch is tomorrow night. If you dare cause a scene or embarrass the Family, I'll disown you. I'll ship you off to a convent in Sicily." The line went dead. A moment later, a second splash of acid hit my face, and the searing agony consumed me. My eyes were gone, leaving nothing but hollow, bloody sockets. You don't need to exile me, Farrow. I'm already gone. Forever.

Warning: This book will make you blush, bite your lip, and fall for the man you’re supposed to hate. Steamy, sinful, and utterly addictive. This isn’t just a love story, it’s a collision of sin, lust, and everything you were told to stay away from. It’s spicy with a splash of danger. He was the one man I couldn’t have, and the only one who could ruin me. Promised to one brother. Owned by the other. One night of sin. The beginning of obsession. I was supposed to say “I do”… to his brother. But I moaned his name instead. One night of raw need turned into a dangerous obsession. He’s ruthless. He’s forbidden. His touch ruins me. His kiss brands me. His need destroys every line we should have never crossed. I was promised to one brother… But now, I belong to the one I should fear.

⚠️ WARNING: This is raw, shameless porn in book form. Open it and you’re instantly throat-deep in filth: barely-legal brats gagging on thick daddy cocks till mascara runs, older men slamming dripping teen pussy from behind while she screams “breed me,” and hungry MILFs scissoring slick, swollen clits together so hard their juices splash and they squirt all over each other’s stomachs. Watch two gorgeous girls locked in a sweaty 69, tongues buried knuckle-deep in asshole and cunt, fingering and sucking clit until they both shake and flood each other’s mouths. Then flip the page for muscled studs railing each other raw, one guy’s cock balls-deep in ass while the other swallows another load straight down his throat. You’ll see bratty domme daughters strapping on monster cocks and hate-fucking their own stepmoms, filthy bisexual orgies where pussies grind on faces, cocks slide from ass to mouth, and every hole gets stretched, stuffed, and painted with thick ropes of cum. Red-handprint spankings, facesitting till they can’t breathe, deep-throat choking, anal, double penetration, creampies dripping out of freshly-fucked holes; nothing is off-limits and every nasty detail is spelled out in 4K. If your panties aren’t soaked and your cock isn’t leaking after the first page, you’re already dead. Still here? Then dive in and let this book destroy you.

In my ninth year of being with Tyler Freeman, he flaunts his relationships with other women while I'm only allowed to come and go from his bedroom. He doesn't acknowledge me as his girlfriend, yet he allows his friends to address me as such. I have a name but not an identity. His friends are bored during a private party and want me to perform a strip dance on stage to liven things up. I expect Tyler to at least turn them down on my behalf, but all he does is sip his wine and say, "Go on. You're the owner of this place, aren't you? Aren't clubs supposed to satisfy their patrons' needs? Don't let my friends down!" I look at him emotionlessly. I don't cry or throw a fuss. Instead, I splash a glass of liquor in his face. The following day, I trash the club. Three months later, Tyler finally thinks of calling me. "Where are you? Aren't you gonna get the hell back here? Do you really expect me to beg you to come back? Do you think you're worthy of that?" I pull my newlywed husband to the camera. "Sorry, Mr. Freeman. I'm getting married. You don't need to come, but do get me a wedding gift." Unexpectedly, he threatens to show my husband intimate videos of me when he sees me in a wedding gown.

I jolt awake to splash of ice cold water making contact with my warm skin and ripping me from my dreams. Looking up I see my perpetrator and best friend Bailey giggling, and holding a now half-emptied bucket. “Wake up loser! Last day on the beach and you choose to sleep?” I roll my eyes in annoyance at her bubbly enthusiasm. “Alright I’ll get in for a bit but I’m not going to stay long,” I state with a huff. We each grab a floatie and make our way waist deep before hopping on and linking arms to keep from drifting apart. “Are you excited to be heading back tomorrow? I know I am!” Bailey quipped. Honestly I’d been avoiding that thought the whole trip. Returning to our pack was the last thing I wanted to think about. This week at the beach had been the calm environment I desperately needed after senior year. Returning would mean I would have to finally confront the drama that has become my life the last three months. All through high school I kept my head down, focusing on my team and training. Despite keeping to myself there was always one person stirring sh*t up, my ex, Austin. His father, the Alpha to our pack, gave his life in one of the pack battles last year. Leaving his Luna to raise Austin and his sister on her own. Austin would now be eligible for the Alpha title which worried me. Up until we left he had shown blatant disrespect to my father, Beta to our pack. Not to mention he still had his eyes and ears on me. Returning was the last thing I had on my mind, knowing sh*t is about to hit the fan.

When I was seven years old, a handsome man Mom brought home gave me a box of mangoes. That day, Dad watched me happily eating the mangoes as he signed his name on the divorce agreement. Then, he jumped to his death. From that day on, mangoes became a lifelong nightmare for me. So, on our wedding day, I told my wife, Irene Johnson, "If you ever want a divorce, just give me a mango." She held me without saying a word. From that moment on, mangoes became forbidden for her as well. … On the fifth Christmas Eve after we got married, Irene's childhood sweetheart, Steven Carter, placed a mango on her desk. That same day, she announced that she was cutting ties with him and fired him from the company. That day, I felt that she was the woman destined for me. ... Six months later, I return from overseas after closing a billion-dollar deal. At the celebration dinner, Irene hands me a drink. After I drink half of it, Steven, the man who was kicked out of the company, stands behind me and grins. "Is the mango juice good?" he asks. I look at Irene in disbelief, but she is holding back a laugh. "Don't be mad. Steve insisted I play a joke on you. I didn't give you a mango, just a bottle of its juice. "But I think Steve is right. There's something wrong with you for not eating mangoes. Look at how much you enjoyed it just now!" she says. I keep a cold expression, raise my hand, and splash the remaining mango juice onto her face. Then, I turn and walk away. Some things are never a joke. Mangoes aren't, and neither is my decision to divorce.

"If I were you..." He began, his eyes suddenly having slits of fury burning within them. "I'd mind my thoughts and limit what I say." His voice dropped gravely low. My brows knitted in a frown. "Excuse me?" I asked, amused. "Are you threatening me??" I prodded further. Nicholas chortled, his voice reverberating through the walls of the room. "Call it whatever you want-I honestly don't give two fucks, but let me make it known to you, young lady..." He started and paused, and in a flick, his face became contorted with rage. "You're my possession now... You're at my mercy and I can fucking do anything I want to do to you right now, in case you don't realize that yet." He continued and I stared on, goosebumps breaking out on my forearm. "Who can save you from my clutches? Exactly what you're guessing... nobody, not even your boss, Megan!" ~>>>~ Nicholas Hills is one of the new names on the movie production scene. He is known as a Billionaire Playboy who had inherited his fortune from his Grandfather. Nicholas is naturally flirty, his good looks making him an automatic ladies' magnet, so he hides his vulnerability and prefers to give off the impression of being a careless playboy. Corvette Vincente, a 24-year-old Private Investigator is the best at what she does. Working for the ruthless gossip magazine "Splash a Star" which makes its profit from bringing out the skeleton in the closet of celebrity stars,Corvette is the best they have and her latest assignment is the Playboy Billionaire movie producer, Nicholas Hills. Getting him caught up in a scandal should be as easy as swatting a fly, but what happens when his charms and sensuality turn her into his scandal instead...? And she loves it! Every single bit!!