Addicted To His Fake Sugar Baby
While packing up her cheating ex-boyfriend's belongings, Giselle found an encrypted black smartphone hidden beneath his old textbooks.
Curiosity made her guess the passcode, only to uncover a horrifying secret.
Her ex had been using stolen lingerie photos of her beautiful roommate to catfish a man named "Oero" out of $1.5 million.
And Oero wasn't just a gullible sugar daddy. He was Dereck Campos, a ruthless Wall Street billionaire known for making his enemies permanently disappear.
The phone suddenly buzzed in her hand with a terrifying message.
"Don't be late. You know what happens when I'm kept waiting."
Giselle's blood ran cold. The lethal trap had snapped shut.
If she showed up, Dereck would see she wasn't the blonde in the photos and kill her.
If she ignored him, his private security would hunt her down anyway.
Her ex had drained the offshore accounts and fled, leaving her as the ultimate scapegoat to face a monster's wrath.
She was just a broke engineering student on a full scholarship.
She hadn't taken a single cent of that dirty money. Why should she pay with her life for a deadly scam she knew nothing about?
But Giselle wasn't going to just curl up and wait to die.
Her analytical mind kicked into overdrive. She sent him a voice note faking a severe illness, and deliberately refused his massive cash transfer to play the proud victim.
She was going to outsmart the most dangerous predator in New York, one calculated lie at a time.
Chapters
Share
Chapter 7
Preston read the message and let out a sharp, humorless laugh.
"See?" he said, holding the phone out to Dereck. "Typical. Play dumb. 'Did I do something wrong?' It's a classic deflection."
Dereck took the phone. He stared at the little crying face. It was a good act. A very good act. But it was just an act.
Before he could respond, the phone buzzed again. A new message from MoonCookie.
This time, it wasn't a photo, but another voice memo. He tapped play. Her voice was different from before. The sickness was still there, a faint rasp, but it was layered with a trembling, wounded tone. It was the sound of genuine hurt.
"Daddy... why would you say that?" she whispered, her voice cracking. "It's a horrible thing to say. You're scaring me. Did I do something to make you think I'm not... me? I just... I thought you knew me." Her voice dissolved into a soft, choked sob before the recording ended.
Preston's smirk faltered. He listened to the message again, his brow furrowed. "Okay, that's... better than the last one. She's twisting it. Making it about your trust in her."
It was a masterful counter-attack. She hadn't defended herself with evidence. She hadn't argued. She had simply doubled down on emotional vulnerability. She had taken his attack and twisted it into him being the bad guy, a cruel boyfriend making his poor, sick girlfriend cry.
Dereck didn't say a word. He was listening to the voice memo a third time, focusing on the little hitch in her breath, the genuine-sounding fear.
A strange sensation washed over him. It wasn't pity. Dereck Campos didn't do pity. It was something darker. Something possessive.
He didn't care if she was lying. He didn't care if she was a scammer. The sound of her voice, the manufactured pain-it triggered something deep inside him, a need to control, to protect, to own.
He wanted to be the only one who scared her. He wanted to be the one who made her cry. And he wanted to be the one who made it better.
"That's enough," Dereck said, his voice low.
Preston looked at him, surprised. "What? You're not going to push back?"
"No." Dereck took the phone from Preston's hand. He deleted the "I know who you are" message from the chat, erasing the evidence of his friend's blunder.
He typed a new message, his thumbs moving with absolute authority.
It was a mistake. Forget it. I've ordered a full medical kit and a private nurse to be delivered to you in an hour. Don't open the door for anyone else.
He hit send. It wasn't a request. It was an order. He was taking control. He was fixing the problem he'd let Preston create. And he was putting a boundary around his property.
In New York, Giselle stared at the message. The relief that flooded her system was instantly replaced by a new, sharper terror.
A private nurse. In an hour.
She couldn't let a nurse in. A nurse would see her face. A nurse would see that she wasn't the girl in the photos. A nurse would report back to Dereck Campos, and the game would be over.
She had to refuse. Again. But this time, she couldn't use the "I'm too sick" excuse. He was offering her medical care. She had to find a new angle.
She thought fast, her mind racing through the possibilities. What would a sugar baby hate more than being sick? Being in debt? No. Being obligated?
She started typing.
No! Absolutely not! Daddy, I appreciate you caring about me, but a private nurse is too much! I can't accept something so expensive. It makes me feel... uncomfortable.
She was playing the pride card. The "I'm not a hooker" card. It was a risky move, but it was the only one she had left.
Please, I'm a big girl. I have my medicine now. Just let me rest. If you send anyone, I won't open the door. Please understand.
She hit send, her heart hammering against her ribs. She was betting her life on the idea that a man who was used to women taking his money would be intrigued by one who refused it.
You may also like
7.4
"Will you be a good girl for Daddy?" His husky voice dripped with lust.
"Yes, please fuck me hard, Daddy." I answered, breathlessly.
His hands were all over my body as he pressed into me roughly and I could feel my pussy swelling in response to his hardness.
"Good," he whispered against my ear, teeth nipping at my skin. "Because you'll be a damn good whore."He bit down again, pulling away from me long enough to grab one of my wrists and pin it above my head, then began fucking me hard, his hips rolling violently and slamming into mine in time with his movements.
•• •• ••
Camille Caldwell, tasked by her wealthy father to learn the ropes of business under the watchful eyes of a dear and trusted mentor, Gavriel found herself juggling between being a dutiful secretary and a seductive temptress at night.
At first, all she wanted from him was for him to give a good report to her father of her behavior, but as she got closer to him, she couldn't resist the magnetic attraction that drew her to him.
When Billionaire Gavriel Donovan agreed to take the only daughter of his friend under his wing as his secretary, he merely counted it as doing a favor for an old friend, but Camille will have him doing the unthinkable, and he'll have her pinned beneath him, screaming for more pleasure.
Can their forbidden desires survive in a world where their romance is regarded as abominable?
Was Gavriel willing to put his friendship and reputation on the line for a girl he was old enough to father?
*****
This book unapologetically contains very dark, raw, and mature contents. Do not open unless you'd love to be stuck in a sex-filled, lusty, and romantic world.
8.7
Ada was eight months pregnant, sitting peacefully in her husband's Manhattan estate, looking at a baby nursery catalog.
Suddenly, her husband's mistress, Jacklyn, walked in, threw an ultrasound photo on the table, and locked the door.
Before Ada could process the betrayal, Jacklyn dragged her to the top of the marble staircase and threw herself backward just as Desmond walked through the front doors.
"She pushed me, Desmond! She tried to kill our baby!"
Desmond looked at Ada with absolute hatred.
He ignored Ada's breaking water and her agonizing screams for help, leaving her to miscarry on the freezing floor while he rushed Jacklyn to the hospital.
He sent Ada to a brutal federal prison for three years, where she was tortured and left with a body covered in horrific scars, mourning the baby she was told died at birth.
When Ada was finally released, Desmond destroyed her cousin's company to force her back to his estate as a lowly maid.
But when Ada saw Jacklyn's three-year-old son, her world stopped.
Right in the center of the little boy's palm was a faint crescent moon birthmark.
It was the exact same mark Ada had kissed on her own lifeless baby's tiny hand before the doctors took his body away.
How did her dead child become Jacklyn's little prince?
Looking at the woman who stole her life and the husband who threw her in hell, Ada clenched her scarred hands and swore she would tear their world apart to get her son back.
9.7
[{EXCERPT}]
"Are you trying to seduce me?"
Alana froze.
Roman's gaze dragged slowly over her body, dark and deliberate.
"The contract explicitly states that you are not allowed to seduce me," he said calmly. "You did read it... didn't you?"
Confusion flickered across her face.
Then his eyes dropped again.
"You do realize," he added, voice lowering, "that you're half naked right now?"
Alana's breath caught as she looked down at herself.
.......
After escaping the suffocating grip of her abusive family, Alana believes she's finally free. But freedom comes at a price.
Roman Ashford is everything she should avoid. A cunning billionaire. New York's most eligible bachelor. A man whose name alone unsettles the entire business world.
One unexpected encounter pulls her into his orbit, binding her to him in a dangerous arrangement as his fake girlfriend for thirty-one days.
But just as she begins to find her footing, her past comes back to choke her.
To secure the inheritance her late father left behind before her mother claims it, Alana has only one option.
She needs a husband, and fast.
With time running out, she makes a reckless decision and turns to the one man she should never trust.
Will Roman accept her proposal...
or will stepping into his world be her utter ruin?
9.5
For twenty years, Krista lived as the perfect daughter of the wealthy Cain family.
But a single DNA report shattered her entire world. Her adoptive parents coldly declared she was just a mistake and immediately replaced her with the true bloodline.
Desperate, she ran through the freezing rain to find her fiancé, only to hear him laughing with his friends.
"Marry a fake? I don't collect the Cain family's second-hand trash."
She slapped him, threw her diamond ring at his chest, and stumbled into a jazz lounge to drown her pain.
Drunk and heartbroken, she accidentally crashed into a stranger, clinging to him like a lifeline, which ended in a wild night in a luxury penthouse.
When she woke up, she realized the man she had ravaged was Jasper Stone, the most ruthless, cold-blooded billionaire on Wall Street.
At the same time, her phone lit up with notifications. Her bank accounts were frozen, and the Cain family had just released a brutal public statement permanently cutting her off.
She was completely abandoned, stripped of her home, her family, and her dignity in a single night. Why was twenty years of loyalty erased so easily?
But instead of kicking her out, Jasper tossed a prenuptial agreement onto the bed.
"Pay off your debt with marriage. Stay, and you are the untouchable Mrs. Stone."
Looking at the contract, Krista wiped her tears, put on bold red lipstick, and signed her name.
9.7
She was supposed to tutor his children.
Not steal his heart.
After a brutal breakup and one very bad night, Hannah Milton becomes a live-in tutor at the powerful Walton estate-where rules are strict, emotions are buried, and falling in love is absolutely forbidden.
Benjamin Walton is older, untouchable, and completely off-limits. He's built his life on control, but Hannah's wit, warmth, and chaos threaten everything he's worked to protect.
As desire ignites and secrets surface, one woman inside the house is determined to destroy Hannah before love can win.
Because some loves aren't meant to happen...
until they do.
9.6
I endured years of humiliation and forced sedatives from my billionaire husband's family, hoping my quiet obedience would eventually win his heart. When I finally discovered I was pregnant, I thought the child would be our anchor.
But when I rushed to his office to tell him, I found his untouchable first love sitting in his chair, rubbing her own swollen belly.
She smiled and whispered that she was the one who orchestrated the car crash that left my adoptive mother in a vegetative state.
When I lunged at her in a blind rage, my husband shielded her and shoved me backward with brutal force. My spine slammed against a marble table, and blood pooled at my feet.
"Kingston, please! I'm pregnant too!" I sobbed, clutching my stomach.
He just looked down at me with profound disgust.
"I had a vasectomy five years ago," he hissed, condemning me as a cheating whore before ordering his men to lock me up and forcibly abort the child.
I had never touched another man. I couldn't understand how the man I loved could order the murder of his own flesh and blood without a second thought.
To save myself, I stole his prized Aston Martin and drove it off a bridge into the freezing Atlantic, letting his pathetic, obedient wife drown in the wreckage.
Five years later, I returned to New York as a powerful European executive, ready to burn his empire to the ground.