
Bound to the calloway's heir
In LA's Business world, Zane Calloway, thirty, turns cartel king after his father's gruesome murder, ruling The Atlas Group with a bloody fist. He learned how betrayal could ruin even the biggest empire and was hell bent on keeping Atlas Group. However when Sienna Carter, his new assistant got in the picture, he threw caution to the wind. To become the only one controlling the cartel, he would use Sienna who was a supposedly ghost from a dead cartel as bait for his enemies. Sienna Carter made his mission become even more complicated as she ignites a dangerous sparks in him. Twenty-five year old Sienna Carter just wanted to stay alive, running away from danger had been the only thing she was capable of since her family were murdered. All she had as a semblance of her old life was the locket her dying father had given her and when a new job pops up in Los Angeles, she gambled for it, hoping for her sake that it wouldn't lead her straight to the same hell she was running from.
However, she would soon realize that the Atlas Groups was going to be more than just a survival decision but the key to everything.
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Chapter 32
SIENNA.
It wasn't the first time that Zane Calloway would be my timely knight in shining armor, yet it was the first time I doubted his ability to save the day. This situation was tricky, and a misplay could mean that this would be the last few minutes I spent with my best friend.
"Zane... No." I whispered, feeling his hand settle on my shoulder. His touch was firm, but it didn't calm the storm raging inside me.
My eyes stung with tears, blurring the sight of Belinda's pale face, her hair now a mess, brushing against her forehead. I had already failed her twice, and had just a chance left to save her. One card to pick the number three, or Belinda would die. My heart pounded in a frantic drumbeat as I stared at the remaining cards, knowing they held the key to my friend leaving the rooftop alive.
Zane's grip tightened. "I will pick up the last card, trust me."
I turned to him and felt a conflicting wave of awe and fear as I studied his face. His dark eyes burned with a confidence I couldn't fathom. How could he be so sure he would pick the right card? My stomach churned with doubt. What if he chose wrong?
Damian's voice cut through. "You sure about this, Zane?" He stood to my left, his hand hovering near his gun. "This whole thing's a setup. I don't trust these folks."
Liam joined them, "We all know this whole card thing is a distraction. We need to move, not gamble, Zane."
Zane's eyes didn't leave the desk. "We do not have a choice. We stand here, they shoot. We rush, they shoot. I pick, we buy time."
"Time for what?" I snapped, trying to follow up on their conversation.
His gaze snapped at mine. "Just give me the chance to try."
The scarred-faced man's laughter broke the moment. "Touching," he scowled, his pistol swinging as he paced around. "But the clock's ticking, Calloway. Pick, or I choose for you both."
As Zane stepped toward the desk, my heart lurched with fear, choking me. I wanted to believe in him, yet the scarred-faced man's grin made my legs go weak and give way. I had to hold onto the edge of the desk to balance quickly.
Zane was reaching for one of the cards when hell broke loose. It happened in a split second, and I almost didn't see it start. A gunshot went off, echoing across the rooftop, and men in dark gear rushed in, aiming their guns at us. Damian spun around with his gun drawn, firing at them.
A scream tore from my throat as Liam and Ethan dove for cover behind a rusted vent. Their shots rang out in defense.
I snapped out of my momentary shock and turned my attention to Belinda, still slumped in the chair, oblivious to the surrounding madness. The scarred-faced man vanished behind the men, and it hit me. He had never intended to let her go. The game was at a standstill until his men could trap us and outnumber us.
"Sienna, stay down!" Zane called out while he pulled a phone from his pocket. His fingers moved fast over the screen as he dialed, "Get here, now," he barked into the phone, then dropped it, sprinting toward Belinda. I wondered what that call meant, but didn't dwell on it. We needed to save Belinda before a flying bullet pierces her heart.
I stumbled forward to join him as bullets whizzed past, and one grazed the desk, splintering the wood. Zane reached Belinda, and he fished for a knife to cut the duct tape binding her wrists and ankles. When she was cut free, her body sagged forward, and he caught her before he turned to me. "Sienna, hold her and stay low."
I nodded at him and reached for Belinda with shaky hands, letting her body rest against mine. Tears burned my eyes as I cradled her cold, pale body and under-eye. I brushed my fingers through her hair. "I've got you," I whispered, "I've got you now, Belinda."
Zane had joined the fight, rescuing Damian, who was grappling with a cartel thug. Damian's knife found its mark on his arm, and Liam fired from behind cover. Ethan wrestled another thug. He shot him in the jaw, and the man went skittering across the rooftop.
My stomach revolted in fear at the rawness of the bloody fight. Zane and his brothers were putting up a good resistance, but the cartel's men kept increasing in numbers.
A bullet grazed the desk, and I tightened my grip on Belinda. I ducked lower, shielding her with my body. A mechanical thrum filled the air, it was so low that it shook the rooftop. I looked up to see a helicopter descend, its blades slicing through the chaos. I saw the pilot, and hope filled me at once.
Noah.
The chopper dipped low with its side door open, letting out a rope. The cartel thugs shot at it, firing wildly when they realized it was our ride out of their chaos.
Zane was back at my side, his face streaked with sweat. "Sienna, move!" he shouted, grabbing my arm, pulling me and Belinda toward the chopper. Damian appeared, blood dripping from a gash on his forehead, his grin feral. "Go, Zane! We'll cover you!"
Liam and Ethan were still fighting, holding back the thugs. I clung to Belinda as the chopper approached until Noah's face became visible in the cockpit. Zane pushed me forward, his hand on my back, "Climb, Sienna! Now!"
I grabbed the ladder but felt my hands slipping on the ropes. As bullets whizzed past, I became frightened when one grazed the ladder's rung. I was terrified we would never make it out alive.
The helicopter's rotor roared above me, drowning out the gunfire but not my fear. I gripped the rope tighter until the coarse fibers were biting into my palms. The ladder swayed wildly under our weight as I climbed rung by rung, each step a battle against the surrounding terror.
"Sienna, keep moving!" Zane said, and I felt his hand on my back as he climbed behind me. His breath was hot against my neck, but his presence kept me from doubting our escape.
Below, the rooftop was a blood-soaked nightmare as the brothers kept fighting back against the thugs. A bullet whizzed past, grazing the ladder's rung above me and the metal twang. I gasped as my grip slipped, causing my body to lurch backward. Zane's arm shot out, wrapping around my waist,
"I've got you," he said. His eyes met mine for a split second, and I saw it...fear, not for himself, but for me and Belinda. It was gone as fast as it came, replaced by that unshakable resolve that both awed and infuriated me.
"Climb, Sienna!" he shouted, his hand pushing me upward. The helicopter's spotlight swept over us. The ladder twisted, causing the wind from the rotors to whip my hair into my face, stinging my eyes.
Below, Damian roared; He buried his knife in a thug's shoulder as he shoved the man to the ground. Another cartel thug lunged, but Damian was faster. He sent him sprawling with a punch. Liam crouched behind a vent, firing shots at the thugs, yet the men kept coming.
Noah called out to us. "Don't stop, you're almost here."
Almost. The chopper's open door loomed above, a promising safety, but it felt a world away.
"Sienna, move!" Zane shouted as a cartel thug jumped on the rope too, clutching his leg. My muscles screamed with pain as I forced myself higher.
Noah leaned out the chopper's door, extending his arm. "Sienna, give her to me!" he shouted, his voice barely audible over the rotors. With Zane's other arm holding me up, I pushed Belinda upward. Noah grabbed her, pulling her limp body into the chopper. Relief flooded me, but it was fleeting, as Zane and his brothers were still fighting below.
I scrambled into the chopper, collapsing onto the metal floor. I heaved a deep sigh. Noah secured Belinda to the seat. He checked her pulse carefully. "She's alive," he said, his eyes flicking to the chaos below. "But we need to move. Now."
"Come on, Zane, we have to go," Noah yelled.
I leaned out to watch Zane on the ladder as he covered his brothers while firing back at the man running after them.
"Zane!" I screamed, gripping the chopper's doorframe. "Get up here!"
He glanced up, "Not yet!" he shouted, firing again, dropping a thug who had aimed at Liam. He was protecting them.
Noah called out again. "Zane, we can't hold this position! Get your ass up here!"
Zane nodded and started climbing. Damian broke free from the thugs, sprinting for the ladder. Liam followed closely, still firing his gun to cover Ethan as he shoved off his opponent.
A scream tore from my throat as a bullet grazed Damian's shoulder, his body jerking, but he didn't stop, his grin feral as he hauled himself higher. Liam and Ethan climbed next. Zane reached the chopper, pulling himself inside. He turned around, grabbing Damian's arm to haul him in. Liam followed, collapsing beside me, his blood staining the floor. Ethan was last, his hands slipping on the ladder.
"Move," Zane called. Noah didn't wait to lurch the chopper upward while the ladder swung wildly as the cartel's gunfire chased us.
I clung to Belinda, my arms wrapped around her, my tears falling onto her hair.
Zane knelt beside me, his hand on my shoulder. "Sienna, she's safe. You did it."
I looked at Zane, his face streaked with blood and sweat. His eyes were tired. "No, you did. You promised to get us all out alive," I whispered. "Thank you, Zane," I managed to say just before the world went gray around me.
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9.2
"Rip my ass apart, Daddy! Fuck the shit out of me! God, yes!"
"So fucking tight, Jenny. No matter how many times I fuck your ass, it's always like the first time... Are you being good for daddy? Keeping other dicks out of this perfect ass?"
"Yes, Daddy. Only yours," she moaned...
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Plunge into a filthy taboo erotica collection where daddies (step daddies, daddies-in-law, and other forbidden fruit) crave and claim their teasing little girls in raw, boundary shattering steamy shorts.
Loaded with intense dirty talk, dubious consent edges, high risk exposure thrills, possessive breeding kinks, degradation and humiliation, and scorching incest.
Please take care of your mental health. It gets dark and twisted in here...
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A conflicted step daddy wrecks his stepdaughter's holes on his marital bed while his wife lurks nearby.
A blind step daughter is tricked into fucking daddy.
A daddy fucks his step daughter on her wedding day... to his son.
Billionaire daddies. Don daddies. A daddy that fucks his son's girlfriend... in front of his son.
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Indulge in these and other dark fantasies with twist endings that will stay with you.
She begs for daddy's brutal cock. He can't stop stretching his filthy little girl.
***All characters are over 18. Explicit content ahead. 18+ only. Reader discretion is advised.

9.4
I walked away from a billionaire husband who betrayed me with my best friend-divorced, pregnant with twins, and determined never to look back.
But Ethan Harrington doesn't know how to lose.
Years later, he's sober, broken, and begging for scraps of time with our children. Supervised visits. Two hours a month. Steel boundaries.
I thought revenge would feel sweeter.
Instead, I found Damian Black-dangerous, devoted, scarred by his own shadows-and built a new empire from the ashes of the old one.
Now I'm carrying his child.
Our daughter.
But when Ethan's redemption starts looking too real, and old secrets threaten to unravel everything I've fought for...
Will I finally close the door on my past?
Or will one last betrayal force me to choose between the family I chose and the one that was forced on me?
Betrayal. Divorce. Secret babies. Second chances. Revenge. A kickass heroine rising from ruin.
And a love that refuses to stay buried.

8.7
Five years ago, I was the invisible scholarship charity case at an elite Manhattan prep school, trying to survive in a sea of trust-fund babies.
Arlo Hammond, the untouchable billionaire heir, made sure to completely dismantle my soul.
When his wealthy friends asked if he noticed me, his mocking laughter echoed down the hallway.
"Are you out of your mind? You seriously think I'd be interested in a boring little nerd like her?"
But the moment we were alone, he would corner me in dark alleys, pinning my wrists against brick walls with terrifying, possessive jealousy if my phone even buzzed. He played his twisted games until I was left standing in the rain with my shattered dignity.
Now, I am an Assistant District Attorney. I spent years burying those memories under mountains of legal files.
But tonight, he returned.
When we crossed paths at an exclusive club, he looked at me with the cool detachment he'd give a piece of furniture. In front of a crowd of elites, he coldly declared:
"We have absolutely nothing to do with each other anymore."
Then he walked away to pick up a supermodel, leaving me trembling from the sheer humiliation.
I didn't understand. If I was so worthless to him, why did he still have my birthday tattooed in dark ink on his wrist? Why did he look at me with such raw, painful vulnerability in the shadows?
I stared at my pale reflection in the mirror and made a silent vow.
I am not that pathetic seventeen-year-old anymore, and I will prove to him that I am completely, entirely over him.

7.2
For three years, I was imprisoned by Anderson Hopper, the monster who forced me to watch my fiancé, Kendall, plummet into a freezing river.
But when I saw the morning news, I realized Kendall wasn't dead. He had returned as Eben Gill, a ruthless tech billionaire.
I risked my life to escape and find him, only to be met with eyes full of absolute hatred.
He publicly humiliated me, dragged me to the exact bridge where he "died," and sneered at the C-section scar on my stomach.
"Anderson Hopper's bastard," he spat, completely unaware that the baby was actually his—the very child Anderson had murdered in the operating room to break me.
To make matters worse, Anderson used Kendall's dying mother as a hostage to force me back into my cage.
I knelt on the freezing asphalt, begging the man I loved to just visit his mother, while he coldly ordered his driver to run me over.
I had lost my baby, my freedom, and my dignity, all to protect him from Anderson's blackmail. Why was I the one being tortured and treated like a traitor?
"Don't think your little kneeling stunt earned you my forgiveness."
He whispered those cruel words before walking away without looking back.
Staring at his cold, retreating figure, the last shred of my love finally turned to ash.
That night, under the cover of a torrential storm, I bypassed the estate's laser grids and walked out into the dark.

9.1
Elise thought her life was finally falling into place. She turned down her father's company to work as executive assistant to Marcus Grey-the boy she's loved since childhood, now the powerful CEO she's devoted her life to.
But when Marcus proposes to another woman, Elise's world crumbles. Enter Sebastian Deluca-Marcus's tattooed, ruthless, long-estranged brother. He's everything Marcus isn't: dangerous, magnetic, and determined to take back his place in New York.
But, there's something odd about him.
Something changed since he arrived.
Bound by family secrets and a mutual desire to expose Marcus's fiancée, Elise and Sebastian form an uneasy alliance. But as sparks ignite between them, Elise must choose: remain loyal to the boy she thought she loved, or risk everything for the man who sees her as more than a shadow.
Some loves are safe. Others are consuming. Which one will she survive?

7.1
For six years, I was the perfect, obedient wife to billionaire Hartwell Ware, enduring his coldness because I thought my love could eventually thaw his heart.
Then, my friend sent me a photo. Hartwell was at the airport, tenderly holding the waist of his first love, Eveline Craig.
He came home smelling of her synthetic rose perfume, accused me of stalking him, and coldly demanded a divorce.
His lawyer handed me a thick settlement agreement. It offered astronomical alimony and luxury properties, but it came with a humiliating ten-page non-disclosure agreement.
He wanted to buy my silence. He wanted to strip me of my rights to our son and gag me permanently, just so he could parade his new life with Eveline without any PR backlash.
Even now, he still thought I was a gold digger who had orchestrated a media scandal to trap him into marriage.
I stared at the man I had worshipped for two thousand days. My six years of desperate devotion had been nothing but a humiliating, one-sided delusion.
Hope was finally dead, and with it, my tears had completely dried up.
He expected me to cry, to beg, to negotiate for more millions.
Instead, I snatched the pen, crossed out the massive alimony, and signed my name on the dotted line.
"I am taking the basic child support, and not a single red cent more."
Leaving my five-carat diamond ring on the marble table, I walked out the door with nothing but my old suitcase.