Alpha's Betrayal, Omega's Revenge
He shattered her. A stranger awakened her. Now she'll burn the world for her own redemption.
Lila was a wolfless omega-obedient, unseen, and promised to an Alpha who shattered her with one cruel betrayal. One night with a stranger changes everything.
Elliot is vengeance in a tailored suit. Cold. Unforgiving. And Lila is the daughter of the man he's sworn to destroy. She was never meant to matter-until the mate bond snaps into place, and hatred turns to hunger.
Then there's Julian. Gentle. Steady. Safe. In his arms, Lila glimpses a life untouched by pain. But even the kindest hearts carry shadows.
Caught between the fire and the calm, between a love that burns and a love that heals, Lila must face the truth of her bloodline, the secrets that bind her to both men-and the power growing inside her.
She's done being obedient.
She's done being silent.
And she won't just survive-she'll rise from the ashes.
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Chapter 3
Lila
"What are you doing here?" I hissed, my voice sharp with fury, though I could feel the tremble beneath it.
Sheldon pushed himself up from my bed with a lazy, predatory smirk. "Came to see my little omega humbled, finally realizing she can't escape me or this engagement."
"I already have," I shot back, my tone biting as I folded my arms across my chest. "You forfeited any claim the moment you cheated on me."
My words were steel, but inside, my heart thudded unevenly. I couldn't afford to let him see the cracks-the pain he'd caused me would only fuel his sick power play.
Sheldon chuckled, the sound low and dangerous. His eyes raked over me with a disgusting sense of ownership.
"You're so naive," he sneered, stepping closer. His Alpha aura pressed down on me, heavy and suffocating. "You think you can break the engagement? You think you have that kind of power?"
I stayed silent, my fists clenching at my sides as he loomed over me.
"Didn't your father teach you anything?" His voice dripped with venom. "Like how to apologize when you've made a mistake?"
The words stung, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.
Suddenly, his hand snaked around my waist, and before I could push him away, he shoved me onto the bed. His weight pinned me, his hot breath grazing my ear as he hissed, "What did you think? That you could disrespect me, humiliate me, and get away with it? You're just an omega."
My stomach twisted with disgust, but I wouldn't let it consume me. "Get off me!" I snarled, my voice raw as I thrashed beneath him.
"Did you forget your place? I was doing you a favor by agreeing to marry you," he snapped, his hand striking my cheek with a sharp slap.
Pain bloomed across my face, but I bit down on the inside of my cheek, refusing to cry out.
"I thought omegas were taught to be submissive," he sneered. "Obedient. But you, you dared to rebel." His eyes darkened as they fell to my neck, landing on the faint mark left behind from last night. A low, guttural growl rumbled through his chest.
"You think you can disgrace me?" he seethed, his fury uncontained. "I own you, Lila. I bought you from your father. How dare you let someone else-"
Before he could finish, he forced his lips onto mine, the vile act sending bile rising in my throat.
Adrenaline surged through my veins, and instinct took over. I brought my knee up with all my strength, driving it into his groin.
Sheldon let out a strangled groan, his grip loosening as he staggered back, clutching himself.
"You little bitch," he spat, his face twisting in a mix of rage and pain.
I didn't waste a second. Grabbing the nearest object-a heavy vase from the nightstand-I swung it with all my might, the impact cracking against the back of his head.
The sound was sickening, but I didn't hesitate. Blood trickled down his scalp as his body crumpled to the floor, unconscious.
Panting, I crouched beside him, my hands trembling as I checked for a pulse. Relief washed over me when I felt the faint, steady rhythm beneath my fingertips.
Thank Goddess he wasn't dead.
But the relief was fleeting. Cold, stark reality set in as I stared at his body. Sheldon wasn't going to let this slide when he woke up. And my father? He wouldn't take a stand for me, he had made it clear earlier.
I was utterly alone.
I searched frantically for my phone, only to find out that it was dead and I didn't have enough time to put it on charge. My options dwindled to nothing, and desperation clawed at my chest.
Elena's words echoed in my mind, her voice from last night clear as if she were standing beside me. "Live life on your own terms, Lila."
She was right. I had to run away from this hellhole.
One Month Later
The dizzy spell hit me again as I swayed on my feet, rocking little John to sleep in my arms. Exhaustion clung to me like a second skin, so I eased down onto the couch, patting his back gently. His eyelids fluttered closed, his soft breathing finally evening out.
His parents would be home soon. Then, I could clock out and head to the club, where I worked nights as a waitress. Babysitting during the day and hustling through chaotic club shifts at night-it wasn't easy, but it kept food on my plate and a roof over my head.
Sheldon and my father had launched a massive search for me. Their influence stretched farther than I could've imagined, forcing me to stay in the shadows, always looking over my shoulder.
I liked kids but taking care of them wasn't as easy as I'd assumed. John was sweet, but the constant juggling between work and sleep was grinding me down. Most nights, I barely managed a few hours of rest. Weekends were the only time I could exhale, but even then, it never felt like enough.
The front door creaked open, and Emily stepped in, her cold expression slicing through the dim light of the living room. She strode toward me, taking John from my arms with the same detached air she always carried.
"We're home," she said curtly. "And you don't need to come from tomorrow."
Her words hit like a slap. "What? Why?"
Emily didn't even blink, her tone clipped and final. "Do you think I owe you an explanation?"
My mouth opened, but no words came out. I just nodded stiffly, grabbed my worn-out bag, and left.
The cool night air stung my cheeks as I stepped outside. My shift at the club wasn't for a few hours, and without the babysitting gig, I had extra time. A part of me wanted to collapse into bed and sleep for days, but I didn't have that luxury.
With no money for a cab, I started the twenty-minute walk back to the tiny dorm room I'd managed to rent. The streets were quiet, lit by dim streetlights casting long, eerie shadows.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, pulling my attention. I fished it out, and my heart skipped a beat at the name flashing on the screen.
Sophia.
It had been so long since I'd heard from her. My fingers trembled as I opened the message, excitement and relief flooding me all at once. For a moment, it felt like I could breathe again. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed her until now.
I was so lost in the euphoria that I didn't hear the sound of tires screeching behind me until it was too late.
The impact came like a freight train, the world spinning wildly before everything faded into black.
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9.6
Ezran Williamson never asked for a new family, especially not one that comes with a stepbrother he can't stand.
At twenty-one, Ezran is sharp-tongued, rebellious, and determined to graduate and build a future in programming on his own terms.
But when his mother remarries a powerful businessman, his carefully controlled life collides with Lucian Banks, his cold, dominant, and dangerously untouchable stepbrother. Successful, older, and infuriatingly composed, Lucian is everything Ezran hates.
Slowly, hatred turns into tension, tension becomes chemistry, and chemistry ignites something neither of them is prepared to face.
What begins as resistance slowly unravels into a forbidden obsession, one that defies family, morality, and control. As secrets surface and pressure mounts, Ezran and Lucian are forced to choose between duty and desire, legacy and love, because some feelings don't fade and some obsessions are worth every consequence.
8.2
For five years, I was the invisible glue holding Damien Crawford together. I was the one who pulled him from a burning car until the skin melted off my back, and I was the one who donated bone marrow when he was on death's door. I even gave up a full-ride scholarship to MIT just to be his nurse.
Yet, he believed his mistress, Hadley, was his savior. To him, I was just the maid's daughter who changed his bedpans—a piece of furniture he could abuse while he planned his wedding to another woman.
But his cruelty didn't stop at verbal abuse. When my father suffered a massive heart attack, Damien refused to let me use the car, choosing to comfort Hadley over a fake panic attack instead.
His mother even slashed the tires to ensure I couldn't leave.
While my father died cold and alone, Damien stabbed a needle into my hand just to teach me a lesson about "respect," oblivious to the fact that the scars on my skin were the receipt for his life.
He didn't know he was torturing the only person who had ever truly loved him. But the girl who begged for crumbs of affection died along with her father that day.
I picked up my phone and dialed the number saved simply as a dot.
"He's dead," I whispered to the man on the other end—Anderson Morrison, the city's most feared Don and my sworn protector.
"I'm coming," he replied, his voice lethal. "And I'm bringing the army."
It was time to show Damien that he hadn't just mistreated a maid; he had declared war on a Queen.
9.5
I made my husband, Damian, the youngest Chief of Surgery in the country. I built his career from scratch, defying my own family to marry him.
Then, he asked me to give our au pair a six-figure salary and a company car.
He called me a cold-hearted bitch when I refused, claiming she was a poor single mother of five. But I saw her wearing my missing diamond bracelet and carrying a Chanel bag worth more than my car.
He flaunted their affair at a professional conference, calling me a "worthless capitalist princess" while she played the victim.
For years, I'd spent a fortune trying to cure his infertility. It was our secret pain. Now, he was using it to justify his affair with a "hyper-fertile" woman he claimed could give him the sons I couldn't.
As he stood on stage for his keynote speech, ready to accept an award, I walked past him to the podium. I had my own presentation to share with the live-streamed global audience-a slideshow of their eight-year affair, complete with hotel receipts and bank transfers.
8.5
"Don't you dare lay a hand on her!" He growled. "But she is nothing. She's just an unwanted omega," Jamey said. "Not anymore," King Barakar replied. "She is mine! She is my mate!"
Raya was done with mate bonds, and pack loyalty. Broken, betrayed, and abandoned on the day that was meant to be the happiest day in her life by the Alpha she had loved in silence, she leaves only to collapse at the feet of the most powerful person in the five kingdoms - the Alpha King himself. He claims her as his fated mate and is passionate about her.
But unknown to them, they share a destiny that pre-dates them.
Raya finds herself in the midst of a power tussle, and she is the center of it all. Her awakened wolf is a threat to some, and a weapon for others.
This time, she chooses to fight for her life, her freedom, and the wolf within, even if it sets the world ablaze, no matter the cost.
7.1
I worked eighty-hour weeks on Wall Street just to keep my sick brother alive, enduring endless humiliation from the wealthy family that adopted us.
But when I went to surprise my boyfriend of three years, I found him kissing my spoiled adoptive sister, Tatum.
They were celebrating their engagement to merge their powerful families.
To keep me quiet, my adoptive mother, Eleanor, threatened to freeze my brother's medical trust fund unless I attended the party to play the supportive sister.
Instead, I discovered Eleanor had been embezzling from my brother's life-saving fund to cover her own bad investments.
The nightmare worsened when a drunken Ryder cornered me in my apartment stairwell.
"Once I marry Tatum, Eleanor is giving me control of Liam's trust fund to buy out my father's board members."
He planned to drain my brother's medical money, dump Tatum, and keep me as his mistress.
For a decade, I suffered their abuse hoping for a shred of decency, only to realize they were plotting to leave my brother to die on the streets for corporate greed.
Calling the police wouldn't stop these billionaires. I needed absolute power.
Remembering the dark, predatory gaze of Jaren Jarvis—the ruthless billionaire who had watched me fight back at the party—I canceled my call to 911.
If they wanted to destroy my only family, I was going to use the devil himself to crush theirs.
9.4
I stood before the double doors of the master suite, my hand hovering inches from the polished brass. As a surgeon, I was trained to steady my heart before a cut, but the silence in the Alexander estate felt like the heavy, oppressive pause that always preceded a scream.
I pushed the mahogany door open to find my fiancé, Authur, tangled in Egyptian cotton sheets with a woman named Jasmine. The air was thick with the scent of expensive cigars and a floral perfume that wasn't mine—a brutal reality check just twenty-four hours before the merger meant to save my family from total ruin.
Authur didn't look guilty; he looked amused, coldly telling me to close the door because I was letting in a draft. When his parents unexpectedly arrived, I was forced to hide his mistress and pretend our "intensity" had ruined the room, donning his discarded shirt to look disheveled just to protect the Lawrence family stock price.
The humiliation only deepened on our wedding morning when Authur issued a sadistic ultimatum over the phone. "Wear your scrubs to the altar—the ones covered in blood—or I'll watch your father's company go belly up by lunch." He wanted to turn our wedding at St. Patrick’s Cathedral into a public execution of my dignity.
I walked down the aisle in shapeless navy cotton and crimson stains, enduring the horrified gasps of the elite who labeled me an "insane gold digger." Authur stood at the altar, reeking of whiskey and malice, certain he had finally broken me and turned my professional oath into a circus act.
But as the priest began the vows, I looked at the man who thought he owned me and realized I wasn't his victim—I was his surgeon. I had the footage of his debauchery ready to play for the world, and as we shared a punishing, hateful kiss for the cameras, I knew the real war had only just begun.