
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 59
DAMIAN.
I crushed the cigarette under my boot, and slid into the driver's seat. The engine roared to life with a low growl that matched the one in my chest. As I pulled out of the driveway, my thoughts drifted to Ava. Impressed didn't cover how I felt knowing others would've chickened out at the thought of being captured, but not my Ava. She'd read her abductor like an open book, turning the tables and saving all our asses from the press hit.Damn, it turned me on, that fire in her.
The drive to Eden's ruins was autopilot. I parked, killing the engine. Stepping out, I picked my way through the blackened beams and shattered glass crunching underfoot, each step a reminder of what I had lost. Eden wasn't just a club to me, but a part of my heart. Its destruction was a wound I hadn't healed.
I reached the private lounge, where Zane and Noah were waiting. I nodded at them before sinking onto a scorched couch. Zane, who was all edges and in a coiled menace, didn't look up from his phone. Noah, stood by the desk, his eyes scanning the room.
"You're late," Zane snapped.
"I needed to make sure Ava was sleeping before I left. Rico's with her," I said, keeping my tone even. Rico was loyal, and would guard her with his life.
"Whatever," Zane muttered, turning to Noah. "Harper's still out there. My order stands as before; we need to take her out."
Noah slammed the desk, the bang echoing. His eyes locked on Zane's, cold as steel. "No. She's off the list."
Zane and I snapped our heads toward him. "What did you say?" Zane's voice was dangerously low.
"You heard me." Noah stepped forward, fists clenched, his lean frame taut with defiance. "Harper's not a threat. Ava's plan worked, and Hale's down. We're clear. Killing her now would be pointless." He shrugged, but there was no ease in it.
I raised my brows, furrowing. "Noah, her story nearly fucked us. She played us all."
"She was doing her job!" Noah shot back, "Journalism, not revenge. She's lost everything, her contract, her home, her future as a journalist. Damian, isn't that enough?"
Zane stepped into Noah's space, towering over him, his shadow swallowing the smaller man. "Her job? She betrayed you, us. In our world, that's a death sentence. You know the rules."
"Rules?" Noah laughed, bitter and loud. "The ones we bend when it suits us? Ava was an outsider, but we used her idea. Harper's not the enemy we think she is, she's just a journalist, not a hitman. Killing her makes us the monsters she wrote about."
I leaned forward, elbows on my knees. "She's a loose end, Noah. One call to the feds, and we're back in the fire."
"She won't!" Noah roared. "I saw her last night. We talked. She's broken, man. Give her a pass, or you're just proving her right about us."
"You saw her? Alone?" My voice dropped, a warning. "That's reckless, Noah."
"Reckless?" He whirled on me, eyes blazing. "Like trusting Ava? Harper could be an asset too. She's smart, connected. But kill her? Over my fucking body."
Zane's jaw tightened. "You're choosing her over us, your family?"
"I'm choosing better," Noah spat, his words dripping with venom. "For the first time since we started this crazy, bloody cartel. I've bled for this family. But blind murdering a poor journalist? That's not us. Call it off, Zane. Or lose me."
The room fell silent, the weight of Noah's ultimatum hanging like smoke. Zane's eyes narrowed, but he didn't speak. Instead, he turned and stormed out, the door slamming behind him. Noah didn't wait long, brushing past me with a muttered curse, leaving me alone in the ruins of Eden.
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My mind circled back to Noah's standoff as I drove through the city streets. He had slammed the desk, defending Harper like she was his blood with an unshaken conviction. Zane had walked away, leaving me caught between them, wondering which side to choose. Both were right in their own way. Noah saw a chance for redemption, a way to break the cycle of blood we had been drowning in. But Zane's doubts festered in me too. Harper had nearly gutted us with her exposé, and sparing her felt like leaving a loaded gun on the table, safety off.
My phone buzzed, snapping me out of it. Zane's name flashed on the screen. I answered, keeping my eyes on the road. "Yeah?"
"Loose ends," he said. "Harper's off for now, but watch Noah. He's soft on her."
I snorted, weaving through traffic. "He fought for her like a cornered dog. But you're right, Zane. She's a risk."
He paused, the silence heavy. "You backed him. Why?"
I exhaled, my boot crunching glass as I pulled over near a mall. "Because Ava proved it. We have to start choosing brains over bullets. Harper had been neutralized, Killing her now will only make us look weak and reactionary."
"She exposed us," Zane said.
"Exposed bullshit we spun back," I fired, "Ava's play buried it. And since Noah vouches, says she's not gunning for us, why not trust his word?"
Zane laughed, cold and hollow. "Vouches? Like you vouch for Ava? That's personal, Damian. Clouds judgment."
The words hit like a gut punch, my grip tightening on the phone. "Personal? I've buried more for this family than anyone. Ava saved us. If that's clouding, then we're blind without it."
"Watch it," Zane growled.
"Give Noah the same rope you gave Ava," I pushed.
Zane exhaled, long and slow. "Fine. But if Harper slips, Noah cleans it. And you? Keep Ava out of your bed. Or we're done."
"After everything?" I snapped. "My club, Eden, burned for us, Zane. You know that."
"For family!" he roared. "Not your dick."
I hung up, breathing hard, the phone hot in my hand. If Noah saw a fresh start, maybe I did too, for us all. Atlas needed to evolve, or it would crumble under its own weight. But Zane's warning echoed: Ava was a line I couldn't cross, not yet. Not if I wanted to keep the family together.
I tracked Noah to a dive bar on the city's edge, He was in a corner booth, nursing a beer, his eyes scanning the room like he was expecting trouble. I slid in across from him, signaling for a drink.
"You're a hard man to find," I said, keeping my tone light.
He didn't smile. "Needed space. Zane's bullshit's getting old."
I leaned back, studying him. Noah was always the wildcard, the one who felt too much, cared too much. It made him reckless, but it also made him sharp. "You really believe Harper's clean?"
He met my gaze, unflinching. "I know her, Damian. She's not some mastermind. She was chasing a story, not a vendetta. She's got nothing left to fight for."
"And if she flips? Talks to the feds?"
"She won't," he said. "I'd stake my life on it."
I took a long pull from my beer, weighing his words. "You might have to. Zane's not sold."
Noah's jaw tightened. "Then make him. You've got pull, Damian. You backed Ava when no one else did. Do the same for me."
I wanted to believe him, But Atlas wasn't built on trust but blood, loyalty, and hard choices. Still, Noah's fire reminded me of Ava's, and she'd proven the impossible. Maybe he could too.
"Alright," I said finally. "I'll talk to Zane. But you keep Harper in line. One wrong move, and we're all fucked."
Noah nodded, a flicker of relief in his eyes. "Deal."
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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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***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.