Jennifer enad

She came here to clear her chaotic mind after witnessing her husband and his mistress having sex in their bedroom. She was furious, because even though she didn't love him, she remained loyal. She didn't want to destroy the family they had built, even if their marriage was just a business arrangement. She tried to love her husband and even wanted to have a child with him, but something always felt missing. It was as if he was searching for something more, and she could feel it too. But that didn't justify what he did. She had every right to file charges against them, but she didn't. Her husband begged her not to and promised he would never do it again. To cool her head, she decided to go to Elite Bar for the first time and have a vodka. Thankfully, their daughter was asleep when it happened, because if she hadn't been, she would have definitely filed for adultery and concubinage. "Hey there, beautiful lady. Why are you here alone? No friends with you or a boyfriend Wait, you're married?" the man commented in shock as he noticed the ring on her finger. She was mesmerized by his looks. He had amber eyes like copper, making her lose her senses. His aristocratic nose was striking from every angle, with thick lashes and brows that any woman would envy. A sharp jawline accentuated his masculinity, and his perfect white teeth and red lips looked irresistibly tempting. His top-knot hairstyle only added to his Adonis-like face. "What's your name?" he asked, surprising even himself with the boldness, considering she was clearly already taken. He grinned widely. "Damn, women who belong to others always seem drawn to me. But anyway..." He extended his hand. "I'm Erin De'Lucas. Single." His gaze deepened. Ember couldn't help but trace her eyes over his body, stunned by how sexy and hot he was. He wore a black shirt and black pants, and he had a piercing in his left eyebrow. She took his hand almost involuntarily, feeling his grip tighten. "I-I'm Ember Vernon. Nice to meet you." "You're beautiful," he gasped, caressing her face. "T-Thank you," she stammered, her voice weak. She wasn't sure if it was the vodka or just a natural reaction to him. He tilted his head, looking deeply into her eyes. "I don't normally interfere with other people's relationships, but seeing you right now, looking so stunning, makes me want to break my own rules. I want you to be mine." His breath was hot against her ear, sending shivers through her body. "Huh?" She was stunned by his words. He chuckled seductively and held her hand, staring at the ring darkly. "Will you give me the honor of being your other man, mi hermosa?" His gaze seemed to pierce her very soul. His aura screamed danger, yet she found herself drawn to it. She was married to Tyson, after all, and they had a daughter, Easter. But they didn't love each other-what was holding her back? Her daughter. "I-I don't-" Before she could finish, he covered her mouth with his large hand, her eyes widening in shock. His jaw tightened. "I don't accept rejection. I've had enough of it. Whether you like it or not, I'm already your other man. I don't care if you're married. I like you, and I want you to be mine. That's final, and you can't stop me from claiming you, starting tonight, mi reina." His voice was cold and dangerous. "Even your husband won't be able to stop me from having an affair with someone like you. This is your fault-you've captured my attention and my heart. Now face the consequences of being too irresistible." Without knowing how, she found herself agreeing as they sealed it with a torrid kiss that lasted all night. "I'm officially your forbidden love affair now, Mi Reina." Maybe it was time for her husband to taste his own medicine.

In front of the mirror, my reflection looks calm and composed. But inside, I'm filled with nerves. It’s a big night. I observed myself, wearing a simple black dress with my long hair down, as if I were going to a wake. KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK! “Can I come in?” It was Brother Enzo’s voice, so I immediately turned around and saw him peeking in with a smile on his lips. “You know you’re always welcome, Brother Enzo. I’m just checking my look before I make my grand entrance,” I said, and Brother chuckled softly before giving my outfit a once-over. “Yeah, I see. It looks like you’ve really prepared for your first meeting with your fiance,” he teased, but I knew he was also worried about me, which is why he came here. I’ve been ready for a while now, yet I’m still up here and haven’t gone downstairs. He knows I’m just hiding out in my room. He took a deep breath as I lowered my head, and I felt his hand on my shoulder, so I turned to look at him as he sat down in front of me. “You’re stalling, Chiara. It’s okay; you don’t have to pretend with me. I don’t like this arranged marriage either,” he said, so I looked at him. “There must be a way to stop this, right?” I asked, my eyes brimming with tears. “He’s not serious about marrying me, is he?” I asked. “And it’s not just any Montello, Brother. We’re talking about Ethan Harris Montello. He’s a monster!” I exclaimed, and he let out a harsh breath at my words. “But father is a man of his word. He made the deal with the Montello elders, and he won’t back out of it now,” he said, and I shook my head. Why is this happening to me? I felt him hug me, so I just closed my eyes. brother Enzo may be hotheaded, but he’s always been gentle with me. This family is incredibly important to him. “Hey, I’m worried about you too. If this truce doesn’t hold, who knows what could happen to you? Our family has been at war with the Montello family for decades. We may be at peace for now, but I doubt it will last,” he said. “Do you think there will be another war between our family and theirs?” I asked, and he took a deep breath. “I don’t know. This hatred is in our blood. It won’t disappear just because we’ve been promised peace. Keep your wits about you, Chiara. Stay guarded around Ethan. He may be your husband soon, but he’ll always be our sworn enemy,” Brother reminded me firmly. Married to my sworn enemy. Fate sure has a strong sense of humor when it comes to shaping your destiny. Fine, I’ll do my best. No matter who I marry, in my heart, I’ll always be a Bianchi. I looked at Brother. “Come on. I should join the party before father sends out a search party,” I said, and he offered his hand to me, which I accepted. I was incredibly nervous about making my entrance, knowing that I’d see Ethan there. I can’t believe this is happening. This engagement feels like a bad dream...

"Stop running around! I'm exhausted chasing after you, Quiy!" I scolded my child. Seriously, he's so hyperactive. It's like he's a worm sprinkled with salt. He's only three years old, but I feel like I won't even make it to his college years because right now, I already feel like giving up. I wanted this, so I guess all I can say is... just bear with it! Instead of listening to me, he became even more aggressive. I might as well carry him in a basket just to keep him quiet. "I'll leave you here, you’ll see," I threatened, but it seemed to have no effect on this little rascal. "If you weren't so heavy, I'd carry you, but you’re heavier than a sack of rice!" I complained, knowing I’d end up doing it anyway. Even though Quiy is a headache, I still love him, of course! Even if I were offered ten million, I’d still choose my child. We always playfully bicker, but of course, it's all for fun. It would be boring if we didn’t talk, right? There are only two of us, so we’d be wasting our words if we stayed silent. If he inherited anything from me, it's my quick tongue. But his seems to be on overdrive. Mine is still manageable... but his? It’s overflowing. "You're too slow, Mommy. I'm speeding up so we don't miss out," he said, rolling his eyes at me. If this kid wasn't just three years old, I might have done something drastic. "How can you miss out? We're in a grocery store. There’s plenty to buy, so you won’t run out," I explained. He let out a heavy sigh, raised an eyebrow, and crossed his arms. "Then why haven’t you found my diapers yet?" he argued, his eyebrow arching even higher. "They said there's no more stock of your diapers, ma'am!" I sarcastically replied. "See, Mommy? We're out of stock because you're too slow. You're like a pregnant lady. I saw earlier that another mom grabbed the last one of my diaper type. I was going to snatch it, but then I saw her husband. He’s so big, so I kept quiet," the little one shrugged. Why does he know so much? Sometimes I think maybe I’m just a joke to the world, that he’s actually the mommy and I’m the child because he knows more than I do. "I'm not pregnant. Where do you get these ideas? You look like a penguin—did you hear me say anything?" I raised an eyebrow at him. "Yes, you just did," he replied. Sometimes, I just want to put him in my pocket. He’s so annoying! He always has something to say! "Quiyana Louise," I called out his full name. Whenever I do that, he usually behaves because he knows I’m about to scold him. "I won't run anymore, Mommy," he said, pressing his lips together tightly. I nodded in relief. Thank goodness. I'm only twenty-four, but I feel like I’m sixty. It’s exhausting taking care of a mischievous child, especially one who’s always cheeky. If I didn’t love him... Even though he's the most mischievous, headache-inducing, and expensive child, I’d still do anything to give him the good life he deserves. I never experienced these things when I was a child because I wasn't born rich. There were even times when my parents couldn’t afford to buy even a kilo of rice, so the solution was to borrow from the neighbors. For me, there’s no shame in coming from such a life. Even now, I sometimes find myself needing to borrow money, but at least I know how to pay it back. I’ll work even harder to give my child a good life. "You’re smiling again, Mommy. I’m not being naughty anymore," I heard him say. That’s why I love this kid. At least he’s affectionate too. A smile slowly formed on my lips. He even clapped when I did. "My mommy is so beautiful..." he praised, something that probably only happens once a month. Most of the time, I just get insults from him. I don’t even know where he got that attitude from—I’m kind... and so are my parents. "Enough with the compliments, Quiy. I already knew that. Do you think complimenting me will make me buy you chocolate?" I looked down at him. "No. Your teeth will fall out," I added, causing his shoulders to droop in disappointment while pouting. He’s already missing teeth, yet he still wants sweets. Of course, I don’t want him wearing dentures at such a young age! Besides, I can’t afford such things. He stayed quiet, so I focused on the shopping list I had written. I’m the type who thinks of many things to buy while at home, but when I’m actually at the store... I forget. So young and already forgetful. I’d almost bought everything. Only Quiy’s diapers and milk were left. I was about to call him when my heart pounded loudly—I didn’t see him in the aisle where I was. I quickly put down the basket I was holding and took quick steps to search for Quiy. My heart raced even faster with every aisle I passed where I didn’t see him. Where could that child have gone?! "Quiy?" I called, but still no response. I had passed several aisles, but still no sign of Quiy. I must have called out every saint I knew, but still nothing. "Quiy, my child?!" I called out agai

Being second best is practically in my DNA. My sister got the love, the attention, the spotlight. And now, even her damn fiancé. Technically, Rhys Granger was my fiancé now-billionaire, devastatingly hot, and a walking Wall Street wet dream. My parents shoved me into the engagement after Catherine disappeared, and honestly? I didn't mind. I'd crushed on Rhys for years. This was my chance, right? My turn to be the chosen one? Wrong. One night, he slapped me. Over a mug. A stupid, chipped, ugly mug my sister gave him years ago. That's when it hit me-he didn't love me. He didn't even see me. I was just a warm-bodied placeholder for the woman he actually wanted. And apparently, I wasn't even worth as much as a glorified coffee cup. So I slapped him right back, dumped his ass, and prepared for disaster-my parents losing their minds, Rhys throwing a billionaire tantrum, his terrifying family plotting my untimely demise. Obviously, I needed alcohol. A lot of alcohol. Enter him. Tall, dangerous, unfairly hot. The kind of man who makes you want to sin just by existing. I'd met him only once before, and that night, he just happened to be at the same bar as my drunk, self-pitying self. So I did the only logical thing: I dragged him into a hotel room and ripped off his clothes. It was reckless. It was stupid. It was completely ill-advised. But it was also: Best. Sex. Of. My. Life. And, as it turned out, the best decision I'd ever made. Because my one-night stand isn't just some random guy. He's richer than Rhys, more powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be playing with. And now, he's not letting me go.

She spent ten years chasing after the right brother, only to fall for the wrong one in one weekend. ~~~ Sloane Mercer has been hopelessly in love with her best friend, Finn Hartley, since college. For ten long years, she's stood by him, stitching him back together every time Delilah Crestfield-his toxic on-and-off girlfriend-shattered his heart. But when Delilah gets engaged to another man, Sloane thinks this might finally be her chance to have Finn for herself. She couldn't be more wrong. Heartbroken and desperate, Finn decides to crash Delilah's wedding and fight for her one last time. And he wants Sloane by his side. Reluctantly, Sloane follows him to Asheville, hoping that being close to Finn will somehow make him see her the way she's always seen him. Everything changes when she meets Knox Hartley, Finn's older brother-a man who couldn't be more different from Finn. He's dangerously magnetic. Knox sees right through Sloane and makes it his mission to pull her into his world. What starts as a game-a twisted bet between them-soon turns into something deeper. Sloane is trapped between two brothers: one who's always broken her heart and another who seems hell-bent on claiming it... no matter the cost. CONTENT WARNING: This story is strongly 18+. It delves into dark romance themes such as obsession and lust with morally complex characters. While this is a love story, reader discretion is advised.  

The rain in Detroit was slick with grime when my family finally came to fetch me. They didn't want a reunion; they wanted a sacrificial lamb to marry into the Kaufman empire to save their failing business. I thought I was just being sold off, but the limo ride ended under a dark overpass where six hired thugs were waiting with chains. My own sister had ordered them to "break my spirit" so I’d be a shaking, pathetic mess by the time I reached the altar. They called me "Detroit trash" and sprayed air freshener when I sat on their leather seats. My stepmother wanted a video of me begging for my life, and my father was ready to trade me like a used car to a man everyone called a "vegetable." They expected a submissive country girl, unaware that I was a high-level "cleaner" who could snap a radius bone before they could even scream. When I finally reached the Kaufman estate, I found my fiancé, Barron, slumped in a wheelchair, drooling and silent. But as soon as the doors closed, the "invalid" grabbed my wrist with a grip of iron and whispered a command that changed everything. I didn't understand why my own blood was so desperate to see me destroyed. What had I ever done to deserve a hit squad and a forced marriage to a man they thought was a corpse? But Barron isn't a vegetable, and I'm not a victim. We just touched down at the Moon family gala in a matte-black helicopter, and as the doors slide open, the "broken" bride is about to show them exactly what happens when you throw away the wrong daughter. "If we're going to crash a party," Barron whispered, his eyes burning with lethal clarity, "we should make an entrance."

Camille Lewis was the forgotten daughter, the unloved wife, the woman discarded like yesterday's news. Betrayed by her husband, cast aside by her own family, and left for dead by the sister who stole everything, she vanished without a trace. But the weak, naive Camille died the night her car was forced off that bridge. A year later, she returns as Camille Kane, richer, colder, and more powerful than anyone could have imagined. Armed with wealth, intelligence, and a hunger for vengeance, she is no longer the woman they once trampled on. She is the storm that will tear their world apart. Her ex-husband begs for forgiveness. Her sister's perfect life crumbles. Her parents regret the daughter they cast aside. But Camille didn't come back for apologies, she came back to watch them burn. But as her enemies fall at her feet, one question remains: when the revenge is over, what's left? A mysterious trillionaire Alexander Pierce steps into her path, offering something she thought she lost forever, a future. But can a woman built on ashes learn to love again? She rose from the fire to destroy those who betrayed her. Now, she must decide if she'll rule alone... or let someone melt the ice in her heart.

She hides behind ugly suits and fake names. He's done trusting women. When they meet in a masked sex club, neither realizes they've been fighting each other across boardroom tables for eighteen months. At Taylor Industries, she's Joy Smith-the frumpy CFO who drowns her curves in shapeless polyester and wearing a wig. At home, she's the forgotten wife of a cheating lawyer who hasn't touched her in so long she's starting to wonder if she's broken. When she finds hot pink lace panties stuffed in her couch cushions...definitely not hers, it's not heartbreak she feels. It's freedom. Grayson Taylor doesn't do relationships anymore. Not after walking in on his actress fiancée with another woman. Now he channels everything into hostile takeovers and board meetings, especially the ones where his overcautious CFO fights him on every goddamn acquisition. Joy Smith is brilliant, infuriating, and funny when he pushes all her buttons. But Honey is tired of being invisible. Tired of never having felt real pleasure. So, when her best friend gives her the details of The Velvet Room-Manhattan's most exclusive masked club-she promises herself just one night. One night to find out if her husband's right, if she really is frigid, or if she's just never been touched by the right hands. She doesn't expect the masked stranger who claims her the second she walks in. Doesn't expect the chemistry that ignites between them, the way he makes her body sing, or the orgasms that leave her shaking. Doesn't expect him to hand her an email address with one command: "Only me. No one else touches you."

I was sitting in the Presidential Suite of The Pierre, wearing a Vera Wang gown worth more than most people earn in a decade. It was supposed to be the wedding of the century, the final move to merge two of Manhattan's most powerful empires. Then my phone buzzed. It was an Instagram Story from my fiancé, Jameson. He was at Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris with a caption that read: "Fuck the chains. Chasing freedom." He hadn't just gotten cold feet; he had abandoned me at the altar to run across the world. My father didn't come in to comfort me. He burst through the door roaring about a lost acquisition deal, telling me the Holland Group would strip our family for parts if the ceremony didn't happen by noon. My stepmother wailed about us becoming the laughingstock of the Upper East Side. The Holland PR director even suggested I fake a "panic attack" to make myself look weak and sympathetic to save their stock price. Then Jameson’s sleazy cousin, Pierce, walked in with a lopsided grin, offering to "step in" and marry me just to get his hands on my assets. I looked at them and realized I wasn't a daughter or a bride to anyone in that room. I was a failed asset, a bouncing check, a girl whose own father told her to go to Paris and "beg" the man who had just publicly humiliated her. The girl who wanted to be loved died in that mirror. I realized that if I was going to be sold to save a merger, I was going to sell myself to the one who actually controlled the money. I marched past my parents and walked straight into the VIP holding room. I looked the most powerful man in the room—Jameson’s cold, ruthless uncle, Fletcher Holland—dead in the eye and threw the iPad on the table. "Jameson is gone," I said, my voice as hard as stone. "Marry me instead."

I was at my own engagement party at the Sterling estate when the world started tilting. Victoria Sterling, my future mother-in-law, smiled coldly as she watched me struggle with a cup of tea that had been drugged to ruin me. Before I could find my fiancé, Ryan, a waiter dragged me into the forbidden West Wing and locked me in a room with Julian Sterling, the family’s "fallen titan" who had been confined to a wheelchair for years. The door burst open to a frenzy of camera flashes and theatrical screams. Victoria framed me as a seductress caught in the act, and Ryan didn't even try to listen to my pleas, calling me "cheap leftovers" before walking away with his pregnant mistress. When I turned to my own family for help, my father signed a document severing our relationship for a five-million-dollar payout from Julian. They traded me like a commodity without a second thought. I didn't understand why my own parents were so eager to sell me, or how Ryan could look at me with such disgust after promising me forever. I was a sacrifice, a pawn used to protect the family's offshore accounts, and I couldn't fathom how every person I loved had a price tag for my destruction. With nowhere left to go, I married Julian in a bleak ceremony at City Hall. He slid a heavy diamond onto my finger and whispered, "We have a war to start." That night, inside his secret penthouse, I watched the paralyzed man stand up from his wheelchair and activate a screen filled with the Sterling family's darkest secrets. The execution had officially begun.

I just got my billionaire husband to sign our divorce papers. He thinks it's another business document. Our marriage was a business transaction. I was his secretary by day, his invisible wife by night. He got a CEO title and a rebellion against his mother; I got the money to save mine. The only rule? Don't fall in love. I broke it. He didn't. So I'm cashing out. Thirty days from now, I'm gone. But now he's noticing me. Touching me. Claiming me. The same man who flaunts his mistresses is suddenly burning down a nightclub because another man insulted me. He says he'll never let me go. But he has no idea I'm already halfway out the door. How far will a billionaire go to keep a wife he never wanted until she tried to leave?

I received a pornographic video. "Do you like this?" The man speaking in the video is my husband, Mark, whom I haven't seen for several months. He is naked, his shirt and pants scattered on the ground, thrusting forcefully on a woman whose face I can't see, her plump and round breasts bouncing vigorously. I can clearly hear the slapping sounds in the video, mixed with lustful moans and grunts. "Yes, yes, fuck me hard, baby," the woman screams ecstatically in response. "You naughty girl!" Mark stands up and flips her over, slapping her buttocks as he speaks. "Stick your ass up!" The woman giggles, turns around, sways her buttocks, and kneels on the bed. I feel like someone has poured a bucket of ice water on my head. It's bad enough that my husband is having an affair, but what's worse is that the other woman is my own sister, Bella. ************************************************************************************************************************ "I want to get a divorce, Mark," I repeated myself in case he didn't hear me the first time-even though I knew he'd heard me clearly. He stared at me with a frown before answering coldly, "It's not up to you! I'm very busy, don't waste my time with such boring topics, or try to attract my attention!" The last thing I was going to do was argue or bicker with him. "I will have the lawyer send you the divorce agreement," was all I said, as calmly as I could muster. He didn't even say another word after that and just went through the door he'd been standing in front of, slamming it harshly behind him. My eyes lingered on the knob of the door a bit absentmindedly before I pulled the wedding ring off my finger and placed it on the table. I grabbed my suitcase, which I'd already had my things packed in and headed out of the house.

Kara Martin was known as Miss Perfect. She was a beauty with good personality and successful career. Unfortunately, her life changed at one night. She was accused of adultery, losing her job, and abandoned by her fiance. The arrogant man who slept with her did not want to take responsibility. He even threatened her life if they met again. What's worse, Kara was pregnant with twins and she chose to give birth to them. Four and a half years later, Kara returned to work at a large company. As the secretary, she would frequently face their notorious CEO. Kara thought it wouldn't be a problem, but as it turned out ... the CEO was the father of the twins!