Valerie Ray

* **One night of betrayal. One night of passion. A lifetime of consequences.** Celine was always the shadow-the reliable twin who worked while her sister, Celeste, basked in the spotlight. But when she finds her boyfriend of five months in her sister's bed, the shadow finally snaps. A reckless night at a dive bar with a hazel-eyed stranger was supposed to be her escape, a way to forget the people who saw her as a spare part. But the stranger wasn't just a face in the crowd. He was **Idris Al-Miraj**, the billionaire Sheikh and the owner of the very hotel where Celine works. When her parents attempt to sell her into a sacrificial marriage to save the family's reputation, Celine finds herself hunted by her past and trapped by her future. Idris doesn't just want her back in his bed; he wants to own every brick of the wall she's built around her heart. Jobless, homeless, and backed into a corner by a family that only needs her when they can use her, Celine prepares to run again. But Idris has other plans. He doesn't want her to run. He doesn't even want her to surrender. He wants her to fight back. **"Use me,"** he says. In a world where power is the only currency, Celine must decide if the man who dismantled her life is her greatest enemy-or the only weapon she has left.

Love, Rewritten – Prologue The ink had barely dried on our divorce papers when I left town, vowing never to look back. Lucas Montgomery had been my first love, my greatest mistake, and the one man I swore I'd never fall for again. We had built a life together, one that should have lasted forever. But forever had an expiration date, and ours came with broken promises, late-night fights, and the painful realization that love wasn't always enough. I spent years convincing myself I was over him. That I had moved on. That what we had was a closed chapter in a book I had no desire to reread. And I believed it-until the phone call came. "You might want to sit down for this," my sister, Emma, had said, amusement laced in her voice. "I'm getting married." I was happy for her. Truly. But then she dropped the second bombshell. "To Andrew." Andrew. Lucas's best friend. The same best friend who had been the best man at our wedding. Now, I had no choice but to return to the town I left behind. To stand in the same room as the man who once promised me forever-only to break every vow. I told myself I could handle it. That I could face him without falling apart. That time had erased what we once were. But when I saw Lucas again, standing across the room with those familiar stormy blue eyes and the same smirk that once made my heart race, I knew the truth. Some love stories never truly end. They just wait to be rewritten.

Prologue Isla knew this was a mistake. She had spent years resisting Damian Sinclair, keeping her distance, pretending the attraction between them wasn't suffocating. But now, standing in his penthouse with the city lights glowing behind them, she knew there was no turning back. His gaze burned into her, dark and unreadable. He leaned against the bar, his tailored suit still pristine despite the chaos she felt inside. "You shouldn't be here," he murmured, his voice a slow, deliberate temptation. "I know," she whispered. Yet she didn't move. Neither did he. Instead, he pushed off the bar and stalked toward her, each step unraveling what little control she had left. He stopped just inches away, his heat wrapping around her, his scent-dark spice and something purely him-making her dizzy. "Tell me to stop." His fingers brushed against her wrist, tracing a path of fire. "Tell me this is wrong." Isla opened her mouth, but no words came. Because they both knew the truth. It was wrong. It was reckless. And it was inevitable. Damian tilted her chin up, his breath ghosting over her lips, waiting for her to push him away. But she didn't. Because tonight, she wasn't going to fight it.

Premise: Emma Hayes is a hardworking waitress struggling to make ends meet in the bustling city of New York. Juggling two jobs to support her younger sister, she has no time for romance-until a mysterious, brooding stranger becomes a regular at the upscale restaurant where she works. He watches her with an intensity that makes her pulse race, tipping generously but never speaking more than a few words. What she doesn't know is that the stranger is none other than Damian Wolfe, a reclusive billionaire known for his ruthlessness in business and his ability to stay out of the public eye. Haunted by a past betrayal, he's learned to trust no one-until Emma. There's something about her that draws him in, an obsession he can't shake. But she's innocent, untouched by the corruption of his world, and he knows he should stay away. When an anonymous benefactor suddenly pays off Emma's debts and secures her sister's tuition at an elite school, she's stunned-and suspicious. Then, an irresistible job offer lands in her lap: a personal assistant role at Wolfe Industries, one that pays far more than she's ever dreamed. Against her better judgment, she accepts... only to find herself working directly under Damian. As their undeniable chemistry ignites, Emma struggles to understand why someone like Damian would be so interested in her. But just as she starts to trust him, she discovers the shocking truth-she was never meant to work for him by accident. She was chosen. And when she uncovers the real reason behind Damian's obsession, she realizes she may not be able to escape him... or her own heart. Plot Twists & Cliffhangers: Emma discovers that Damian knew about her long before she ever met him-he's been keeping tabs on her for years. A hidden connection ties their pasts together, one that could either destroy their growing love or bind them forever. Someone from Damian's past is determined to keep them apart-and they'll do anything to ensure Emma walks away. Just when Emma starts to trust Damian, a betrayal shakes her world, leaving her questioning whether she ever truly knew him at all.retract

For five years, I abandoned my status as the heiress of the powerful Montgomery family to play the role of a poor, submissive housewife for Barrett. Then, a bank notification popped up on my phone. Barrett had forged my digital signature and transferred our entire $50 million joint trust fund to a woman named Crista Reid. When I called his boardroom to confront him, he humiliated me in front of a dozen Wall Street executives. "Stop acting like a hysterical housewife. You're living in a penthouse I pay for, so don't embarrass yourself." I broke into his encrypted laptop and uncovered the sickening truth. Crista was his mistress, and they had a five-year-old son together. Barrett hadn't just stolen my money; he had spent years painting me as a helpless charity case he rescued, completely erasing the fact that my financial models built his entire company. He thought I was just a discarded peasant he could manipulate, cheat on, and replace. He truly believed he held absolute power over my life. He had no idea that I still possessed the highest security clearance of the Montgomery empire. I pulled an old BlackBerry from a hidden wall compartment, plugged it in, and dialed my family's lawyer. "Draft the prenup for Commodore Clayton IV," I ordered, choosing to marry Wall Street's most ruthless predator. "I'm done playing the peasant."

For ten years, I was the perfect, obedient wife to my wealthy husband, managing his severe OCD and hosting flawless high-society parties. But on our tenth anniversary, when I brought him his special hangover soup, I caught him sleeping with my younger sister in our master bedroom. Instead of panicking, he coldly handed me divorce papers with zero assets. He told me I was just a "placeholder" until my sister finished her degree and was ready to take my spot. Desperate, I called my mother for help, only to find out she had known about their affair for years. "You don't have Jana's drive or her looks. You clean house and you cook. That's not a wife, that's a domestic." My own mother sneered at me, telling me to walk away quietly because our family needed his financial support. They kicked me out of the penthouse with nothing but a suitcase, laughing that a woman who hadn't worked in a decade would end up begging on the streets. I bled for this family for ten years, only to be thrown away like garbage when my sister wanted my life. But they didn't know that while I was playing the boring housewife, I had secretly earned a Cordon Bleu diploma, a Cornell nutrition certification, and a Columbia master's degree. Using a hidden photo to blackmail a property out of him, I packed my elite credentials and landed a $300,000-a-year job managing a billionaire's estate. When my ex-husband drunkenly called days later demanding I come back to serve him, I calmly hit block.

I was Landon Mercer's secret girlfriend and loyal assistant for four years. I thought my absolute devotion would eventually win his heart. But he casually announced his engagement to a wealthy heiress, reminding me I was just a convenient nobody from an orphanage. When I got trapped in a horrific car crash and begged him to call an ambulance, he just hung up on me, annoyed that my bleeding was ruining his romantic getaway. He even blackmailed me with my orphanage's land lease, forcing me to attend his engagement party as a prop. At the party, his elite family and friends brutally humiliated me. They deliberately crushed my broken arm, poured red wine over my head, and kicked me into a freezing pond. When Landon finally pulled me out, he didn't care that I was suffocating and turning blue. "Are you out of your mind? You come out here and cause a scene during my engagement party?" He threw a stack of cash at my shivering body, furious that I had embarrassed him in front of his wealthy guests. Looking at the hundred-dollar bills floating in the muddy water, my four years of foolish love completely died. To him, I wasn't even human; I was just a cheap toy he could abuse and pass around. I didn't cry, and I didn't beg. I dragged my soaked, battered body into a car and headed straight to the penthouse of his biggest billionaire rival. It was time to burn Landon Mercer's world to the ground.

For two years, Clementine played the perfectly obedient wife to billionaire Donovan Bray, wearing his heavy diamonds and enduring his cold indifference. Until she accidentally saw his tablet and discovered she was just a "collateral asset"—a cheap lookalike prop hired to make his ex-girlfriend, Gisela, jealous. When Gisela returned to New York, Donovan's mask completely slipped. During a vicious argument where he mocked Clementine as a pathetic shadow, he grabbed her, causing her to fall down a flight of marble stairs. Waking up in the hospital, Clementine learned she had miscarried a six-week-old baby she didn't even know she had. But what truly shattered her was hearing Donovan's voice through the cracked hospital door. "It changes nothing." He coldly lied to his friend that the fall had caused permanent infertility. "It was probably for the best." He had killed her unborn child and casually dismissed her worth, truly believing she was a penniless nobody who would suffer his abuse in silence. He thought he held all the power, leaving her broken and discarded for his true love. What Donovan didn't know was that his fragile, dependent wife was secretly "C.", the billionaire genius behind Aurelian, the world's most exclusive luxury jewelry empire. Lying in the sterile room, Clementine dried her tears, filed for a ruthless divorce, and permanently froze his supplementary black card. It was time to show him who really held the strings.

To revenge herself on her unfaithful fiancé Kevin, Isidora hides her striking beauty behind a plain disguise, and targets his uncle - the most formidable man Kevin fears. After one reckless night, Isidora leaves cash as payment and says lightly, "You were good last night." She tries to leave quietly, but is pulled into his arms. "You think you can walk away after this?" he says, his tone low and possessive. Cedrick is a feared, untouchable titan on Wall Street - elegant, aloof, and completely uninterested in women. Not even the most beautiful socialites in the city can catch his eye. When gossip spreads that he was seen pressing a woman against a wall and kissing her fiercely, no one believes it. When the rumors name Isidora, the crowd scoffs. He rejects even the most beautiful women, so why would he notice a plain girl like her? All doubt disappears when they see the dignified Cedrick drop to one knee to help Isidora with her shoe, pleading softly for just one kiss. When Kevin finally sees Isidora's true beauty and begs for forgiveness. But Cedrick kicks him out at once, slams a marriage certificate on the table, and says sharply. "Call her Aunt."

The day Raina gave birth should have been the happiest of her life. Instead, it became her worst nightmare. Moments after delivering their twins, Alexander shattered her heart-divorcing her and forcing her to sign away custody of their son, Liam. With nothing but betrayal and heartbreak to her name, Raina disappeared, raising their daughter, Ava, on her own.Years later, fate comes knocking when Liam falls gravely ill. Desperate to save his son, Alexander is forced to seek out the one person he once cast aside. Alexander finds himself face to face with the woman he underestimated, pleading for a second chance-not just for himself, but for their son. But Raina is no longer the same broken woman who once loved him.No longer the woman he left behind. She has carved out a new life-one built on strength, wealth, and a long-buried legacy she expected to uncover.Raina has spent years learning to live without him.The question is... Will she risk reopening old wounds to save the son she never got to love? or has Alexander lost her forever?

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.

I was cheated on by my scumbag boyfriend. On the night I got blackout drunk, I married a stranger, and when I woke up, I only found a marriage certificate and a black card. He took care of my scumbag ex for me, gave me a canary diamond ring, but refused to show his face-he only called me baby on video calls. I ran to my best friend's house to hide, only to find that the billionaire next door, who made my heart skip a beat, had the exact same scent as him. My best friend cried and begged me: "He's Augustus, a tyrant who eats people alive!" But only I knew that the man who pressed me against the terrace railing, leaned down to kiss me, and whispered "I'll protect you" softly. Fifty thousand dollars to sneak photos of his private office? I'll go. Not for the money, but to ask him to his face- Gus, how many secrets are you hiding? And how long have you been craving me?

After five years in a maximum-security women's prison, Abbey Dudley was finally released. Her billionaire brother came to pick her up in a luxury SUV, but it wasn't to welcome her home. Five years ago, her adopted sister Emmie pushed a girl down a flight of concrete stairs. To protect their precious golden child, Abbey's biological parents forced her to take the bloody trophy and the blame, locking her in a cage at seventeen. While they took Emmie to Paris Fashion Week, Abbey was gagged with bleach-soaked towels and her leg was shattered by an iron pipe. They froze her eighteen-million-dollar trust fund and secretly transferred every cent to Emmie. On the day of her release, they dragged her to a grand ballroom filled with New York's elite. They forced her to wear her yellowed, frayed high school uniform, intending to publicly humiliate her as a degenerate gambling addict and an academic failure to highlight Emmie's perfection. Abbey stood there with a ruined leg and a hollowed-out soul. How could her own flesh and blood strip a Stanford-bound genius of her perfect grades, hand them to an adopted stranger, and throw their biological daughter to the wolves without a second thought? "Since you surgically removed the facts that make you monsters, I invite everyone here to verify the truth." Under the horrified gasps of the crowd, Abbey exposed their forged evidence and shattered their perfect facade. Leaving her terrified parents and screaming brother in the ruins of their reputation, she walked out into the cold night, gripping a single silver embroidery needle. She was going to carve out every drop of blood they took from her, with interest.

For six years, I was the perfect, obedient wife to billionaire Hartwell Ware, enduring his coldness because I thought my love could eventually thaw his heart. Then, my friend sent me a photo. Hartwell was at the airport, tenderly holding the waist of his first love, Eveline Craig. He came home smelling of her synthetic rose perfume, accused me of stalking him, and coldly demanded a divorce. His lawyer handed me a thick settlement agreement. It offered astronomical alimony and luxury properties, but it came with a humiliating ten-page non-disclosure agreement. He wanted to buy my silence. He wanted to strip me of my rights to our son and gag me permanently, just so he could parade his new life with Eveline without any PR backlash. Even now, he still thought I was a gold digger who had orchestrated a media scandal to trap him into marriage. I stared at the man I had worshipped for two thousand days. My six years of desperate devotion had been nothing but a humiliating, one-sided delusion. Hope was finally dead, and with it, my tears had completely dried up. He expected me to cry, to beg, to negotiate for more millions. Instead, I snatched the pen, crossed out the massive alimony, and signed my name on the dotted line. "I am taking the basic child support, and not a single red cent more." Leaving my five-carat diamond ring on the marble table, I walked out the door with nothing but my old suitcase.