7 Nights With My Step Brother's Rival
Seven nights with the devil to pay a debt. One truth that will burn the world down.
Sienna Blackwood was never part of the deal until her step-brother gambled with her life to save his own.
Now, she is collateral in a brutal game of revenge. The collector is Dante Moretti, a billionaire with a fifteen-year grudge and a thirst for Blackwood blood.
He doesn't want her money; he demands seven nights of her total surrender.
But in the shadows of a Manhattan penthouse, hatred turns into a lethal obsession. When a syndicate ambush forces them to flee, the contract becomes a race for survival across the Atlantic.
Hunted for the three-year-old secret heir in their arms, Sienna and Dante must navigate a world of blood oaths and forced alliances.
In a game where every kiss is a tactical error, Sienna must decide: is her step-brother's rival the monster who shattered her life, or the only man who can save it?
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Chapter 6
The bedroom door shuddered under another violent kick.
Sienna's heart slammed against her ribs as she stared at Dante, his gun steady in his hand, his eyes locked on hers with an intensity that made her forget how to breathe.
"Choose, Sienna." His voice was deadly calm. "Me or the file. Right now."
She could hear the men in the hallway. They weren't just breaking in anymore. They were destroying everything, tearing the penthouse apart, searching for something. For her. For the ledger.
The file sat on the nightstand, that damned leather folder that could send her father's legacy up in flames. Everything she had left of the Blackwood name was in those pages.
But Dante was standing here, bleeding from a cut above his eye, asking her to trust him.
"You," she whispered.
His eyes widened for a fraction of a second. Surprise. Maybe even shock. But his mask slammed back into place so fast she almost thought she'd imagined it.
"Smart girl." He grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward the far wall. "Move. Now."
"Where are we going? The door is..."
"Forget the door."
He pressed his palm against a section of the mahogany bookshelf. There was a soft click, and the entire unit swung inward like something out of a movie. Behind it was a narrow corridor, dimly lit by emergency lights.
Sienna's jaw dropped. "You have a secret passage in your bedroom?"
"I have enemies, Sienna. Did you think I'd sleep somewhere without an exit strategy?" He shoved her inside. "Go. Straight ahead. Don't stop."
The door behind them exploded inward just as Dante pulled the bookshelf closed. She heard the masked men pouring into the bedroom, shouting in a language she didn't recognize. Russian, maybe. Or something Eastern European.
Dante's hand was firm on her lower back, urging her forward through the narrow space. The walls were concrete, cold and industrial. This wasn't just a panic room. This was a real escape route.
"How far does this go?" she asked, her voice shaking.
"Service elevator. Two floors down. Leads to the parking garage."
They moved fast, their footsteps echoing in the tight corridor. Sienna's bare feet slapped against the cold floor. She was still wearing the silk robe from earlier, and nothing else. The fabric clung to her skin, damp with sweat and fear.
Behind them, she heard muffled crashes. The men were tearing the bedroom apart.
Dante pulled out his phone as they reached a metal door at the end of the passage. The screen glowed in the darkness, showing a grid of security camera feeds.
Sienna looked over his shoulder and her stomach dropped.
The penthouse was a war zone. Furniture overturned. Paintings slashed. Glass everywhere. And the men, at least six of them, all dressed in black tactical gear, moved through the space like professionals. They weren't just thieves. They were trained.
"Oh my God," she breathed.
Dante's jaw clenched. He swiped to another camera. The living room. The kitchen. His office. All destroyed.
Then he swiped to the hallway outside the bedroom.
Maria, the maid who had warned them, was on her knees. One of the masked men had her by the hair, dragging her toward the elevator. She was screaming, her voice raw with terror.
Sienna's hand flew to her mouth. "Dante, we have to help her!"
"We can't."
"What? We can't just leave her!"
He didn't look at her. His eyes stayed locked on the screen as Maria disappeared into the elevator, still screaming. The doors closed, cutting off her cries.
"Collateral damage," Dante said flatly.
Sienna stared at him, horror rising like bile in her throat. "She's a person. She helped us. How can you just..."
"Because if we go back, we die too." He shoved the phone into his pocket and yanked open the metal door. "And I'm not dying tonight."
The service elevator was waiting, just like he said. Small, industrial, with peeling paint and a flickering overhead light. Dante pushed her inside and hit the button for the garage level.
The elevator jerked into motion.
Sienna pressed herself against the wall, trying to process what had just happened. Maria's screams still echoed in her head. The men tearing through Dante's home. The cold, detached look on his face when he said collateral damage.
This was the real Dante Moretti. Not the man who had touched her with surprising gentleness during the seven nights. Not the man who had looked at her like she mattered.
This was the Ice King. The man who survived by being ruthless.
And she had just chosen him over everything else.
The elevator shuddered to a stop. The doors opened onto a concrete parking garage, dim and echoing. Dante stepped out first, gun raised, scanning the space.
"Clear," he muttered. "Marcus should be here by now."
As if on cue, headlights flared at the far end of the garage. A black SUV roared toward them, tires squealing on the polished concrete.
The vehicle skidded to a stop in front of them. The driver's side door opened and a man stepped out. Mid-forties, military build, with a scar running down his neck. He moved like someone who knew how to handle himself.
"Mr. Moretti," the man said. His voice was gravelly, calm. "We need to move. Now."
"Agreed." Dante grabbed Sienna's arm and pulled her toward the SUV. "Marcus, this is Sienna. Sienna, Marcus. My driver and head of security."
Marcus nodded at her once, his expression unreadable. "Ma'am."
Dante yanked open the back door of the SUV.
That's when Sienna saw it.
The body.
It was slumped across the back seat, head tilted at an unnatural angle. A man, dressed in a cheap suit, his eyes still open and staring at nothing. Blood had pooled beneath him, soaking into the leather seats.
His throat had been cut from ear to ear.
Pinned to his chest was a note, the paper already darkening with blood.
Sienna screamed.
Dante caught her before her knees gave out, his arm tight around her waist. She couldn't stop staring at the body. At the face.
It was Silas.
The man who had threatened her at the gala. The man who had blackmailed Julian. The driver who had killed Dante's father and spent fifteen years in prison for it.
Now he was dead in the back of an SUV, with a message stabbed into his chest.
"Don't look," Dante ordered, trying to turn her away.
But she couldn't stop. Her eyes were locked on the note. The handwriting was sharp, almost elegant.
**You're next, Moretti.**
Marcus moved around the vehicle and opened the opposite door. He grabbed Silas by the shoulders and hauled the body out onto the concrete with zero ceremony. It hit the ground with a wet thud.
Sienna gagged.
"Get in," Dante said, his voice hard. He shoved her into the back seat, not giving her time to protest.
She landed on the leather, her hands shaking so badly she couldn't grip anything. The seat was still warm. Still wet with Silas's blood.
Dante slid in beside her and slammed the door. "Drive. Now."
Marcus was already behind the wheel. The SUV peeled out of the garage, tires screaming.
Sienna pressed herself into the corner, as far from the blood as she could get. Her mind was spinning. Silas was dead. Someone had killed him and left him as a warning.
"Who did this?" she managed to choke out.
Dante didn't answer right away. He was staring out the window, his jaw tight, his hand resting on the gun in his lap.
Finally, he spoke. "Someone who wants me to know they're coming."
Marcus glanced at them in the rearview mirror. "Sir, there's more. Silas was found an hour ago in an alley near the Blackwood apartment. Someone delivered him to me. Along with this."
He handed Dante a burner phone.
Dante turned it on. The screen lit up with a single voicemail notification.
He put it on speaker.
The voice that came through was distorted, mechanical, impossible to identify. But the words were crystal clear.
"The girl is the key. Bring her to the Port Authority warehouse at dawn. Alone. Or your entire empire burns."
The message ended.
Silence filled the SUV.
Sienna felt like she couldn't breathe. The girl is the key. They were talking about her. Not the ledger. Not the money.
Her.
"Dante," she whispered. "What does that mean? Why do they want me?"
He turned to look at her, and for the first time since this nightmare started, she saw something in his eyes that terrified her more than anything else.
Fear.
"The ledger isn't just evidence of your father's crimes," he said quietly. "It contains bank routing numbers. Offshore accounts. Five hundred million dollars in syndicate money."
Her blood turned to ice. "What?"
"Whoever controls those accounts controls the entire East Coast underworld." His hand tightened on the gun. "And they think you know how to access them."
"But I don't! I don't know anything about..."
Her phone buzzed.
She pulled it out with shaking hands. A text message from an unknown number. Just a photo.
She opened it.
And her heart stopped.
It was her father. Tied to a chair in what looked like a warehouse. His face was bruised and bloody. His eyes were wide with terror.
Below the photo, a single line of text.
**I'm sorry, sis. They have Dad. If you don't give them what they want, they'll kill him. Julian.**
Sienna stared at the screen, the words blurring as tears filled her eyes.
This wasn't just about Dante's revenge anymore.
This wasn't even about the seven nights she owed him.
This was about survival.
And the monsters hunting them weren't going to stop until everyone she loved was dead.
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9.3
His Favorite Sin
9.3
"Hey, stranger... you look dangerously tempting tonight."
The words slipped out before I could stop myself, and a reckless smile curved on my lips.
He leaned closer, voice deep and taunting. "Careful, Mrs. You might not survive what you're asking for."
His eyes, sharp and unrelenting, pinned me in place. I knew in that instant I was standing before a predator ready to consume me whole. The way his hand brushed against my cheek sent shivers down my spine - and I hated how much I wanted more.
---
Brinda thought she had finally found love, but betrayal on her wedding day shatters her fragile heart. Lost, broken, and angry at the world, she crosses paths with Jason - a notorious playboy with a dangerous charm and an offer she can't resist.
Will Brinda allow her wounded heart to open again, or will Jason's dark world pull her deeper into a game of desire and deception?
Step into a story of passion, betrayal, and fate - where one night changes everything.
9.2
When Alma's father stood in front of the bulldozers to protest, the energy company's thugs beat him half to death in the mud.
Instead of arresting the attackers, the police handcuffed her bleeding father and threw him into a cruiser.
"Stay back, kid," the officer barked, shoving Alma away.
Her father was denied bail and framed for assaulting an officer. The corrupt mayor just smiled and told her not to cause a scene. Meanwhile, the company mailed her weeping mother a severance check that barely covered a month of groceries.
Alma was forced to watch her family be completely destroyed by men with money and power.
Kneeling in the cold dirt where her father's blood had spilled, she didn't shed a single tear. The panic in her chest died, replaced by a cold, absolute hatred.
She realized that crying wouldn't do anything. In this world, justice didn't exist for the weak.
Years later, Alma stepped onto a prestigious Ivy League campus, her cheap backpack slung over her shoulder.
She was surrounded by the arrogant children of the very executives who ruined her life.
She lowered her head, hiding her dead eyes, and put on the perfect mask of a timid, helpless charity case.
Undergrad was just a training ground, and these elite kids were just her practice dummies. The hunt was officially on.
7.5
Arthur Lucas is a billionaire who survives by control, not love. When a scandal threatens to destroy his empire, he needs a wife fast. Someone clean, respectable, and silent. Kiah Taylor needs money to save her brother from prison. Their contract marriage is supposed to be simple. But the scandal isn't about Arthur. It's about Kiah. The moment she becomes his wife, enemies close in. Secrets surface. Lives are threatened. Love becomes dangerous. And survival is no longer guaranteed.
7.1
I never should have let my mother hold my future hostage.
She paid my tuition with his father's money. Locked my birth certificate, my transcripts, every scrap of paper I need to survive in a safe I'll never open. And the one thing I had left of my dad, his old watch, she dangled like a noose.
Run, and I lose my education. Fight, and I lose the last piece of the man who actually loved me.
So I moved into the Hunters' mansion. Into the lair of the boy who spent years making my life hell.
Chase Hunter. Six-foot-five of pure venom wrapped in muscle and money. The senior who cornered me in empty hallways, who whispered filth in my ear just to watch me flinch, who smiled that sharp, cruel smile every time I broke a little more.
I thought graduation meant freedom from him.
I was wrong.
Now he's my stepbrother.
He hates that I'm here. Hates my mother for sinking her claws into his father. Hates me most of all, for breathing his air, for walking his halls, for daring to exist where he can reach me.
But hate isn't clean anymore.
It's tangled up in heat. In the way his grey eyes strip me bare every time they land on me. In the way his hand closes around my throat, not to hurt, but to own. In the way he punishes me over his lap, in his car, against walls, until I'm shaking and soaked and furious at myself for wanting more.
He calls me Little Lamb like it's poison on his tongue.
I call him every name I can think of under my breath.
How long until we stop fighting the deadly inferno raging between us and finally let it consume us both?
7.1
The captain is dead to the world. And I'm the only one holding the kill switch.
Ethan Carter, the "Glacier of Silvercrest," was the most feared Alpha to ever step onto the ice. Now, he's nothing but a shell-a broken, comatose legend trapped in his own body.
My life? It was supposed to be simple. Graduate, survive the pack's bottom-tier status, and pay off my father's ruinous blood-debts. Instead, the pack elders handed me a contract soaked in cold, hard malice: I am the designated "Stabilizer." My only job is to touch him, scent him, and keep his wolf from flatlining.
I thought I was just a glorified nurse. I didn't realize the Alpha was listening.
When Ethan finally wakes, he isn't the hero the Kingdom of Valeria remembers. He's a starving predator with amber eyes that burn holes through my defenses and a temperament that makes the frost in the mansion seem warm. He hates the bargain, he hates the pack, and-most dangerously-he hates the way his scent turns wild whenever I'm near.
He wants me out of his sight. I want to be out of his reach.
But in a pack built on secrets, someone is still trying to finish the job they started on his life. Now, the man who wants me gone is the only one who can protect me. And as the rink turns into a battlefield, I'm realizing the most dangerous thing about the Alpha isn't his temper... it's the fact that once he claims a mate, he doesn't know how to let go.
Frozen hearts are meant to shatter. But in the fire of this pack, we're both going to burn.
9.5
He was born from the void between stars - a being of immense power, forged from cosmic origins.
For thousands of years, he walked among humanity, protecting them and keeping his true strength hidden. After losing the only family he had, grief led him to seek his own end... only to wake up in a world entirely unlike his own.
Here, cultivation is the main path to power. Those who master spirit qi gain superhuman strength, speed, and abilities that place them far above ordinary people. Four great sects rule the land, competing for resources, secrets, and dominance over each other.
Icaros joined the Li Sect, where he found companions he came to trust and care for: the capable and easygoing Li Han, the sharp and composed Su Yan, and the spirited Nelly. For a time, he felt he had found a place to belong, even as he kept his true nature hidden and wondered whether he could ever learn to cultivate like those around him.
Everything changed when their voyage was suddenly attacked. A powerful figure floating in the sky cut their ship apart with sharp, devastating energy strikes, leaving only destruction in his wake. Believing his friends had been lost in the disaster, Icaros chose to stop holding back any longer.
> "I am done hiding!"
He unleashed his full power: golden light blazed from his eyes, he flew at incredible speed, and he broke through every barrier and enemy in his way. On the shores ahead, he tore through hordes of powerful jade monsters, destroying them completely before flying deep into the interior of the island.
Meanwhile, survivors washed up scattered and alone. One young cultivator found himself on the shores of Jade Island - a place most cultivators avoid, as it holds no treasures or useful materials, only danger and endless deposits of ordinary jade. Yet despite the risks, ordinary people have built settlements here, finding safety from the conflicts and power struggles of the outside world.
This island works by different rules. Spirit qi is scarce and unstable, making cultivation far less effective than elsewhere. Instead, the people here rely on advanced technology - weapons and explosives that can injure or even defeat those with great physical strength. Here, skill and preparation can be just as powerful as raw strength, and even the strongest cultivators must move with caution.
Now, Icaros has vanished deep into the island. His companions are lost somewhere across this dangerous land. And the mysterious swordsman who destroyed their ship has already arrived here, searching for an ancient map said to lead to the legacy of a being from another world.
Will they find each other again? And can anyone survive in a place where the usual rules of power no longer hold true?
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