All That Glitters Is My Stepdad.
Cierra Monroe never meant to steal her mother's life.
One veil. One signature. One wedding meant to save her family....But lies spoken at an altar don't disappear.
Dominic Vance remembers the girl who stood beside him. The way she trembled. The way her eyes lingered.
And when the truth comes out, he doesn't let her go.
What starts as a secret turns into obsession.
What feels like protection becomes control.
And love quickly turns violent.
Cierra is hunted, locked away, and forced to choose between men who all want her for different reasons.
Her boyfriend fights for her freedom.
Her protector betrays her trust.
And her stepfather decides she belongs to him.
Blood is spilled.
Guns are raised.
Promises are broken.
And Cierra learns too late that some vows never end... even when they were never meant to be real.
Because not all that glitters is gold.
Sometimes... all that glitters is my stepdad.
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Chapter 4
Cierra's POV
The ring caught my eye first.
A polished band of silver...too elegant, too meaningful...to be ignored. He removed it slowly, almost ceremonially, like he knew I was watching him. My throat tightened.
"Oh, this?" he said with a lazy shrug. "It's nothing."
Nothing.
Funny word for something that looked like a promise.
I swallowed hard, forcing breath into lungs that suddenly forgot how to work. God, please let this not be who I think it is. The man my mom is marrying is supposed to be safe, boring, gentle. This man was none of those things.
"What room number do you want?" I asked, trying to focus on work, on professionalism, on anything except how his gaze lingered on my lips.
"This one."
He tapped the key card in my hand...my room.
I blinked. "I... don't understand."
He stepped in closer, that impossible scent of expensive sin surrounding me. His hand pressed lightly against my spine, guiding, claiming, pushing me back toward the door.
His breath brushed the shell of my ear.
"You look like a demon perfectly made for me."
My knees almost gave out. I whispered back before thinking:
"And you look like a fallen angel sent to drag me back to Heaven."
He smirked.... slow, approving, dangerous.
"I love how perfect you arrange your lines," he murmured.
"Well," I breathed, clinging to one last piece of sanity, "too late. Someone already booked me."
He chuckled...a low, rich sound that made heat coil in my stomach.
"And what if I rebook you?"
"That's if you can," I challenged.
He didn't blink. Didn't hesitate.
Just lifted his phone and dialed.
"Yes?" A woman answered from the front desk.
"There's been a mistake," he said, tone cool and commanding. "I'm requesting an immediate swap to basic accommodation."
She apologized and asked for details.
"Name: Dominic Vance. And the performer's username...?" He lifted a brow at me.
My whole world paused.
"...MB," I forced out. "Midnight Ballerina."
He repeated it smoothly. A few keystrokes later, the swap was approved.
The call ended.
But he kept staring at me... waiting for me to connect the dots.
Dominic Vance.
The name I'd been hearing for months.
The man my mom wouldn't stop smiling about.
Everything inside me dropped...excitement, confidence, oxygen...gone. My heart thrashed in a panic cage.
This is him.
Him.
The man she is about to marry tomorrow.
I shouldn't be here.
I shouldn't want him.
But God, the way he looked at me like I was a secret sin he was born to commit...
"Did you pay for a session?" I croaked, needing something logical to cling to.
He tilted his screen toward me.
A payment receipt flashed across it.
$100,000.00
My jaw unhinged.
Energy.
This was pure, unfiltered energy.
Something rebellious, reckless, suicidal sparked inside me.
We crossed the door together... gravity pulling us closer than sanity allowed. His hand slid to my jaw. My pulse jumped. His lips brushed mine, then...
"Wait," I whispered, slipping from his hold.
I needed something to do or I'd combust.
I grabbed a bottle of wine from the minibar and poured.
"I like my men a little tipsy before the fun," I said, masking fear with sass.
He arched a brow. "So you think you can handle me?"
"Depends," I smirked. "Are you married?"
"Is that necessary information?"
"Yes," I pushed. "I need to know I'm not tearing someone's home apart."
His eyes darkened. Sharp. Amused.
"And would it bother you, if the woman couldn't keep her home?"
"Nice lines, Monsieur," I said, rolling my eyes..even though my heart was sprinting.
"Why does a whore like you care about homes?" he asked, voice soft but taunting.
"Don't call me a whore," I snapped, heat flaring up my neck.
He raised his hands in surrender, smirk playing at his lips.
"Okay... princess. My mistake."
I climbed onto the couch, straddling his lap...because control felt safer than fear.
"No pet names," I warned.
"Then good news....I'm not married." he paused, then continued... "Yet."
I froze.
"Yet?"
He leaned back, enjoying the chaos he created.
"I'm getting married tomorrow."
His audacity punched me in the stomach.
"So what are you doing here with... me?"
He didn't blink.
"Making sure I'm making the right choice."
"Why the doubt?"
"I love sex," he said bluntly.
"So?" I swallowed.
"I'm starving," he replied, eyes locking onto mine with a hunger that made reality tilt.
Something primal inside me whispered:
Prove you're better.
Prove he should choose you.
I smiled.... slow and wicked..even while shame tangled with desire.
"Then watch how a young girl does it."
"And what makes you think," he growled, "that I'm not marrying a young girl?"
My breath caught.
"My mistake," I whispered.
His fingers slid into my hair, guiding my face closer.
"Start," he murmured, "by showing me how much you want me."
Heat flooded through me...terrifying and thrilling.
I moved down to his trousers, as I rubbed his dick slowly, he moaned in pleasure as I whispered "should I keep on?" he nodded.
His hands found their way through my breast as he began squeezing it lightly, he traced his fingers down my nipples and began playing with it.
"Fuck." I whispered as he bent my neck and began sucking my nipples, he sucked one and played with the other.
He kept on playing with it in circular motion as I moaned lightly. He traced his hands down my panties, as he began rubbing my clit.
"Fuck, you are wet." he whispered as he kept rubbing my clit, slower...
"Faster." I whispered...he began rubbing my clits like his life depends on it... I rolled over flipping myself to arch my waist for easy penetration...
He rubbed his cock slightly, as he tried sliding it in but I stopped him.
"Allow me." I said, holding his hard cock..
I pushed him to the bed, climbed on him and find my way down to his cock.
I rubbed it slowly, lubricating it before sliding it inside my mouth, he cursed under his breath as i sucked his dick non stop.
He held my head for easy deep-throating as I played with his balls, teasing his cock with my tongue.
He was in heaven.
He groaned loudly and I held his neck and shoved my finger in his mouth.
"Shut up." I warned as I climed on him and inserted his cock inside my pussy.
I began riding him slowly, he moaned, holding my waist firmly, for easy thrusting.
He thrusted in fast..hard and rough, I held his chest to enable him go harder.
"Fuck..yes..fuck..." I moaned out as he grabbed my breast while thrusting in.
"Fuck, you are wet!" he yelled.
He kept going hard and deep, raising my legs high to enable him thrust faster.
"Yes..yes .. yes, that way, don't fucking stop." I moaned out, he spanked my ass and bent me over down his chest.
I held his shirt, giving him an easy penetration, he groaned slapping my ass profusely, he turned my hips, holding it down and fucking me deeper.
"Say you love how I smash that coochie!" he whispered.
I nodded and said "More reasons you should keep shut and keep on."
I bit my tongue in maximum pleasure as he spread my ass and kept thrusting in, he stood and turned me over, spanking my ass as he rubbed his dick before sliding it inside my pussy.
"Oh fuck me!" I moaned out...he began thrusting in deep, hard...
He held my hair, dragging it and whispered to my ears "Worry not, I would replace those hairs."
That must be the sexiest word a man ever said to me, because at this point I do not think I'm letting go of this man.
I think he is the Man for my pussy.
I'm sorry Mom, We might speak about this after I cum.
He held my legs open, and began licking my pussy, he played his tongue around my clit as I shivered. I rubbed his dick as he kept on fucking my pussy hole with his tongue.
I was in heaven.
"Nice Pussy." He said and left me wondering if I should say 'thanks' or just ignore it.
He rose and lay on me, kissing my lips fiercely like I was his lost treasure.
"I don't kiss sluts but for you, I would change that."
He whispered as he bit my tongue.
"Fuck you." I moaned and he pushed his cock inside me.
Once.
Twice.
But just as the world closed down to his mouth and my heartbeat...
My phone lit up.
A message from Mom.
# Baby, rest well. Tomorrow is a big day, remember?#
My blood iced.
Dominic's eyes flicked to the screen, unreadable.
No smirk.
No teasing.
Just...
Cold.
Heavy.
My chest squeezed.
I. Am. Doomed.
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8.0
On our wedding night, my Fated Mate, Alpha Cedric, left our bed to care for his mistress. He told me our marriage was just an obligation.
But the real betrayal came months later on a rooftop.
When Rogues demanded a trade, Cedric didn't hesitate. He chose to save Jayden because of her "heart condition," handing me—his pregnant wife—over to the killers.
"You are stronger," he said as he pushed me toward them.
I fell from the building. I survived, but our unborn pup didn't.
Instead of comfort, I woke up to handcuffs. Cedric believed Jayden’s lies that I staged the kidnapping for attention.
He threw me into the dungeon, shackling my wrists with silver cuffs that burned my flesh, while Jayden poisoned my food with wolfsbane.
He stripped me of my title and dignity, never realizing that the "fragile" woman he protected was the true monster.
He didn't know about the glowing rune on my chest counting down the seconds I had left. He didn't know I was the legendary White Wolf, and my time was up.
On my final night, I asked for one last ride on the Ferris wheel where we first met.
At midnight, as Cedric rushed back to the amusement park, he didn't find a body. He found only my empty clothes and a text message on the seat.
"Don't look for me, Cedric. I'm giving my wolf back to the moon."
As he watched the security footage, he finally saw me dissolve into stardust and ascend to the sky, leaving him alone in a world that suddenly felt too quiet.
7.2
Elena stood flawless in her bridal gown. Five years of molding herself for Dante Moretti and a powerful mafia treaty culminated now. This dress was her only solace.
Then her phone buzzed. A text from Dante: "Wedding canceled." Two cold words, no explanation. Her world shattered, heart a sledgehammer blow.
Dante answered her call from a hospital, commanding her to leave, no apology. Her father and 500 mafia guests outside whispered of "humiliation." Marco then cleared Dante's things, revealing he was moving his long-comatose 'white swan,' Sofia, into their intended home. Her father's ultimatum: win Dante back in thirty days, or be married to a sadistic Russian boss.
Discarded, betrayed, and trapped, Elena felt absolute humiliation. She despised five years wasted, facing a fate worse than death. But as tears blurred her vision, a dangerous thought ignited: Dante wasn't the only Moretti. She wouldn't cry or beg. Instead, she'd choose the most terrifying Moretti of all, and make Dante pay for his arrogance.
7.8
The fire that melted my skin should have been the end of my story.
I had been the perfect mafia wife. I obeyed my father, I married Dante Genovese, and I even birthed his daughter.
But in return, he locked us in a safehouse and lit a match.
He watched from behind a steel door as I burned to ash, all because his mistress, Sofia, was jealous and wanted me out of the picture.
My own brother had spiked my champagne to ensure I was too weak to fight back.
I died screaming, my lungs filling with smoke and the scent of my husband's betrayal.
But when I gasped awake, I wasn't in hell.
I was in the bridal suite at the Ritz-Carlton.
My hands were smooth. My skin was unblemished. The date on the digital clock burned red in the darkness.
It was three years ago.
It was the night of our engagement. The night it all began.
Dante was in the bathroom right now, humming contentedly as he washed off the scent of his mistress before coming to claim his "lawful prize."
In my past life, I waited for him. I let him take me, thinking my submission would earn his love.
Not this time.
I didn't run to the lobby for help. My family had sold me out.
Instead, I took the elevator to the Penthouse floor.
To the territory of the Outfit.
To the door of Matteo Moretti—The Butcher. The only man ruthless enough to make Dante tremble.
When the door opened, revealing a man with eyes like ice and a gun in his hand, I didn't flinch.
I fell to my knees and looked up at the monster who could save me.
"I am Elena Vitiello," I whispered, the drug in my veins setting my blood on fire.
"And I have a proposition."
8.4
Eleven years ago, Damien Falcone pulled me from the freezing waters, and I thought I was marrying my savior.
Instead, he orchestrated my absolute ruin by forging evidence to frame me for selling a vital mafia bootlegging route to the FBI.
Under the guise of saving me from the family's brutal death sentence, he stripped away my future as his Mafia Queen. He dragged me to New York and locked me in a gilded penthouse cage. For eleven years, I rotted away as his secret prisoner until my failing body finally gave out.
As I collapsed in the freezing New York snow, he caught me, his hands trembling as he held my dying body against his chest.
"No, Fia, stay with me. I did it to keep you alive. I had to—"
I didn't want to hear his monstrous lies anymore. I had given him all my love, and he repaid me with a tomb. Loving him was the only unforgivable sin I ever committed.
"I pray... we never meet again."
When the howling wind faded, I opened my eyes to the heavy stench of rust and lake water. I wasn't dead.
I was back in the cramped cabin of a cargo freighter, exactly sixteen years old again. It was the very night my jealous cousin sent an assassin to carve up my face and void my marriage to the Falcone family.
This time, I quietly gripped the heavy oak slat under my mattress.
9.4
Kidnapped, beaten and locked up, Aurora Puro Pucasso, The daughter of General Puro Pucasso, has her life turned upside down. One moment she's on her bed, the next, she's forcefully taken by Vincenzo West, and made to act like his wife Brielle, and the mother to his psychotic child in exchange for her to live.
What happens when every of Brielle's past comes to haunt her? Can she survive her new daughter's torment? What happen when the line between Reality and fiction start to blur between Aurora and Vincenzo.
8.2
Casey woke up with a throbbing skull in a glamorous dressing room, facing a public execution by an internet mob.
Her wealthy family had thrown her away. Her hypocritical sister, Coralie, forced a holographic tablet into her hands, demanding she join a deadly survival reality show on a wasteland planet.
"It's what Mommy wants. If you don't sign, you're dead to the Hendersons."
The whole world wanted her dead. On the live broadcast, billions of viewers cursed her as a toxic stalker. The golden boy idol Kayson physically attacked her to defend Coralie's honor. Even the show's staff mocked her, deliberately leaving her with nothing but a torn, broken tent and a single bottle of water for the lethal alien wilderness.
The universe was playing a cruel joke on her. She was framed as the villain of her sister's perfect story, banished to a wasteland where everyone expected her to cry, beg, and die on live television.
But they didn't know she had already survived a decade in the ruins. Casey didn't shed a single tear. Instead, she invoked a hidden contract clause, demanding a full year on the planet instead of the standard month.
"I'll survive for a year, and the planet becomes mine."
She grabbed her broken tent, stepped onto the red alien dirt, and prepared to show the universe what a real predator looked like.