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 5
Lila
A sharp sting in the back of my hand pulled me from the haze of unconsciousness. My eyelids fluttered, heavy and sluggish, as I blinked against the sterile light of the hospital room. An IV drip was attached to the back of my hand, and the faint beeping of machines filled the silence.
"She's awake-call the doctor," a nurse's voice cut through the fog.
I turned my head slightly, finding a kind-eyed nurse rushing to my side. She was middle-aged, with a warm smile that somehow managed to put me at ease, even amidst the confusion clawing at my chest.
"Are you feeling okay, sweetie?" She asked, gently taking my blood pressure.
I nodded weakly, my throat too dry to form words. She handed me a glass of water, her gaze softening with pity.
"You need to be extra careful now," She said, her tone firm but caring. "I know life can get hectic, especially for someone your age, but you have to prioritize your health first. In your condition, it's critical."
Her words didn't make sense, but before I could respond, the door opened, and the doctor walked in, his face stern as he reviewed a file handed to him by another nurse.
"As expected..." he muttered.
The weight of his disappointment sent a ripple of unease through me. My pulse quickened as his eyes met mine, his expression softening into a practiced smile.
"Miss," he began gently, "I understand that many women worry about their weight these days, but skipping meals can be harmful-especially to your baby's health. Malnutrition affects development during pregnancy, and..."
"Baby?" The word slipped from my lips, my voice barely a whisper.
The room seemed to tilt, and my heart stopped in my chest.
Pregnant?
My hands trembled as realization dawned. I'd missed my period this month, but I'd attributed it to stress, the chaos of my life. Not once had it occurred to me that...
My mind raced back to that night at the club, to the stranger who had left an imprint on my body and soul. My hands instinctively moved to my stomach. "Doctor..." My voice cracked, trembling with fear and hope. "Is my baby okay?"
"Yes, he's fine," the doctor reassured me with a small smile. "But you must take better care of yourself. For your sake and the baby's."
I exhaled shakily, my emotions a chaotic storm. Relief that the baby was unharmed mingled with dread at the road ahead.
The door opened again, and a man I didn't recognize stepped into the room. His jaw was tense, his amber eyes scanning the scene as he moved toward the doctor. "Is she okay? Is she out of danger?" He asked, his voice filled with urgency.
The doctor's smile widened, and he glanced between the stranger and me. "Ah, you must be her husband. Congratulations-you're going to be a father soon."
My mouth fell open, but before I could correct him, the man stepped forward, his lips curving into a charming, confident smile. "Thank you, Doctor. I'll make sure to take care of them both," he said smoothly, his eyes meeting mine with a tad of relief.
The doctor began rattling off dietary recommendations and prescriptions, speaking as though this man were truly my partner. My thoughts spiraled, returning to the reality I'd been avoiding.
The father of my baby wasn't this stranger. It was the man from that night-the one whose name I didn't even know but had dreamed of a lot since the night I spent with him.
How could I have been so reckless? I'd ruined everything. If I hadn't run from the engagement, my father and Sheldon would've forced me to terminate this pregnancy. But now...now I had a choice. I would raise this child alone, far from their toxicity and control.
"Hey," the stranger's voice broke through my thoughts, his hand waving casually in front of my face.
I blinked, meeting his curious gaze, my confusion giving way to irritation.
"Care to tell me what's going on? Why didn't you correct the doctor when he assumed you're the father of my baby?" I demanded, my tone light but threaded with annoyance.
His lips twitched into a small smile as he perched himself on the edge of my bed. "Calm down. You need to stay relaxed-for the sake of our baby," he said jokingly, his voice thick with mock concern.
I shot him a glare so cold it could've frozen the air between us. "Don't joke about this."
He raised his hands in surrender, his smile faltering. "Fine. I get it. You're not in the mood for humor. My bad." His expression sobered, his gaze steady on mine. "I had to lie to the doctor."
"Why?" My arms crossed over my chest, my face set in an unreadable mask.
"You were accidentally hit by my car," he admitted, his tone low, as if saying the words aloud might make it worse.
My jaw dropped, and I stared at him in stunned disbelief. "That was your car? You could've killed my baby!" I shrieked, my voice rising as a rush of anger bubbled in my chest.
He winced but didn't back down. "No, I wouldn't have. Look at you-you don't have a scratch on you. I pulled the brakes the moment I saw you, but by the time the car stopped, you'd already fainted. I swear, it wasn't as bad as it sounds," he explained quickly, his words tumbling over each other. "If I were a bad person, would I have brought you to the hospital? Would I have stayed here to make sure you were okay?"
His words, however maddening, had a thread of truth to them.
"I'm here to make amends," he added, his tone softer now.
I narrowed my eyes, weighing his sincerity.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek card, holding it out to me. "Look, I know you're going to raise this baby on your own, and when I brought you here, it was clear you weren't doing great. I want to help you-whatever you need. Consider it my way of making things right."
Hesitantly, I took the card, my eyes scanning the embossed name: Julian. Beneath it, the title Manager glinted. He worked for one of the most powerful companies in the country.
The weight of my predicament pressed down on me like an anchor. I couldn't keep this baby on a waitress's salary, not while hiding from Sheldon, my father, and their search parties.
"Can you really help me?" My voice wavered, the vulnerability in it foreign even to my own ears. "I need a job-and a way to hide my identity."
Julian's lips curved into an easy, reassuring smile. "Consider it done. But..." He cocked an eyebrow, his curiosity apparent. "Mind telling me who you're running from?"
I stiffened, the question a crack in the fragile trust I was trying to have. "If you want to help me," I said firmly, "don't ask me any questions."
His brows lifted, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. Then, he shrugged, his grin returning. "Fair enough. Deal."
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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.