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 7
George's POV
I turned, and there Blinky was....arms folded across his chest, lashes long, lip gloss shimmering like he owned the entire damn hallway. He had that stare... that "boy don't play in my face" stare.
I swallowed.
"Uh... Blinky, I need to, uh..."
Before I could even form a sentence, my dad stepped right beside me like a problem I didn't order.
"Hello," he said, eyeing Blinky from head to toe. "Mind me asking what's goin' on here?"
Blinky flipped his hair, hand on his hip.
"Ohhh, you tryna book a session, daddy?" he purred, licking his lip dramatically. "'Cause you know... I handle clients real good."
My dad smirked, shameless.
"You gonna do well in the bedroom, no lie. I know men who like that kinda energy."
Blinky hissed so loud I thought steam left his ears.
"Uh-huh, so that's the vibe? I actually thought you was gonna drop at least a penny on me. My bad for overestimating your senior citizen's pocket."
I grabbed Blinky's arm real quick before he started a fire we couldn't put out.
"Ayy...stop...come here..."
He snatched his arm back.
"Boy, why the fuck are you grabbing me like your ex? Don't be yanking on me."
"I'm trying to stop you from embarrassing me with my dad, Blinky," I muttered, voice tight.
"Ohhh." He rolled his neck. "So why you here anyway?"
"Is Cierra in?"
He blinked. "Sorry, baby, Cierra don't work here."
I grabbed his arm again. "Blinky. Cut the lies. When Cierra and I were dating, I dropped her off here for work. Don't play."
He froze, then let out a slow "ahhh...ahhh, makes sense now..."
I sighed, hand dragging down my face. "Okay, so where is she now?"
He squinted at me. "Hold up. Y'all broke up during the summer. So why the hell you need to see her, huh?"
"She needs to know something important," I said.
"Call her then. You got her number."
"For fuck's sake, Blinky, not today..."
"EXCUSE ME?" he snapped, hand on hip. "I'm not your ex, so tone that dirty-ass voice down."
I exhaled quickly.
"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. But please... can I see Cierra?"
He held my stare for a long moment.
Finally he said, "Aight. I'll go tell her."
"Oh... thanks, Hun..."
"No," he snapped, finger in my face. "Stay. Here. Do not follow me."
I nodded.
He turned and strutted off, hips moving like he had theme music behind him.
I stared at him walking away and muttered,
"Damn... he got more ass than most regular girlies."
Right then, a woman walked by, heels clacking like gunshots. She stopped and gave me a slow, hungry stare.
"Hello, hot boy," she said.
"Uh..." I cleared my throat and fixed my eyes on the wall. The last thing I needed was another rumor Cierra would hear.
She stepped closer. "Hey, I'm talking to you."
"Oh...hey."
"You look real familiar..." she said, circling me like a predator. Her perfume hit me so hard I almost leaned away.
"Oh really..."
"Mhm." She walked a slow circle, eyes dragging down my body. "Too damn hot to resist. Why you standing out here? Come inside..."
"Uh....no, mama. I'm good."
She slid a hand up my neck. "Don't you wish mama would clap her ass on that baby you got growing down there?"
My eyes widened. I immediately covered myself, heat rushing up my neck. "Uh... nah. I came for something important."
She pulled back with a scoff. "Mm. So you just gon' disrespect me like that? Boy, whoever raised you...."
Before she finished, the hallway door opened.
Blinky came out...
and Cierra walked out behind him.
My heart dropped so hard it shook me.
I stepped forward. "Oh... finally."
I went to hold her hand, but she slapped mine away like it burned her.
The other woman clicked her tongue. "Sooo you rejected Chelsea for this cumbag?"
I blinked. "Who's Chelsea?"
She pointed at herself dramatically. "Me! My name is Chelsea."
"Oh... well...you're just too old for me."
She gasped like I shot her. "BOY, FUCK YOU."
She threw a middle finger in my face, storming off....but then stopped and eyed Cierra from head to toe.
"So... did you handle that cock successfully?"
Cierra stepped forward, eyes blazing. "With all due respect? Fuck off."
Chelsea snapped. "Girl, don't be mad 'cause your man out here tryna get with somebody classy..."
"Classy?" Cierra laughed. "You smell like expired wine and desperation."
Chelsea clutched her chest. "Oh she got jokes."
"You walked up to my ex and tried to drag him inside like he's on your payroll," Cierra shot back. "Please be serious."
"At least I can pull a man," Chelsea barked.
"Please. You pull backs, legs, and necks too, I bet."
"Ohhh, bitch..."
Blinky slid between them like a referee. "Yo, yo, yo...relax. Chelsea, go home. You smell like birthday cake and bad decisions."
Chelsea gasped, pointed at all of us dramatically, then stomped away.
Blinky turned to me with a smirk. "A tip, please. For saving your messy ass."
I sighed, pulled out my wallet, and shoved money into his hand. "Here."
He snapped his fingers. "Energy!! Let me go tell my girls I got paid today." He walked off swinging the cash.
And just like that, it was only me and Cierra.
Her blue eyes locked on mine, cold but full of something I couldn't name.
"You must be tired," I said softly. "How was work?"
"Stressful," she said. "But worth everything."
"I'm sure." I pulled off my coat and draped it over her shoulders. "It's cold outside."
She hesitated... but finally whispered, "Thank you."
My throat tightened. "Uh... yeah."
"So why are you here?"
"To talk to you," I said.
"About what?"
"If we can elope. Together."
She laughed... loud, sharp. "George, please spare me."
"No...listen. I'm going overseas today. Later this morning. And I want you to come with me."
"Okay. I'm done here." She turned to leave.
"No, no...okay, okay... just for a month!"
"Bye, baby."
"Wait...wait...wait..."
She stopped with the tiredness of someone who had cried too much over the same person. "George, please stop being an obsessed ex. Get over me."
I grabbed her hand gently. "You know I love you so much, Cierra."
She scoffed. "You think I'm what, TEN? That you can play like that?"
"C'mon Cierra. I'm not playing you..."
"You love me, yet you had a damn threesome in the same hotel room we booked for our anniversary."
"You know I was depressed....my mom's death.."
"WHAT are you saying?" she snapped. "Your mom dying didn't push you into a threesome a whole year later."
Her voice cracked... not with softness, but with rage.
She turned to walk away.
I grabbed her hand again.
She glared back. "Let me go, George."
"No," I whispered. "I won't."
She struggled, but I pulled her closer.
"So you're really gonna let five years go down the mud?"
"No," she shot back. "Not the mud. The gutters. So dead worms can feed on it."
I swallowed hard. "So you hate me now?"
"I don't even care about you."
Something snapped in me. "Cierra, shut the fuck up! What am I not doing? I give you flowers, gifts, everything... just to win you back. It's not like I killed somebody."
She stepped closer and hit my chest with both hands. "It's that simple, George! GET. OVER. ME."
I leaned in, whispering. "What if I don't?"
Her lips parted... maybe for anger, maybe for something else...but the words never came.
"Let's go in," I whispered.
She swallowed hard.
I pushed her gently against the wall, her breath catching...
My hands slipped under her gown...
"George..." she whispered, trembling.
"C'mon," I breathed. "Take me inside."
And just like that...
I kicked the ball.
Let the whole world scream:
GOAL!!
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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.