Dangerous Temptation: No Escape From My Brother-In-Law's Obsession
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Born into privilege, Eleanor never imagined her life could shatter in a single night. Then her father disappeared with his mistress, her mother fell from a building and slipped into a coma, and everything she once owned turned to dust.
Determined not to ruin Jonathan's future with her family's disgrace, she ended their relationship and became the bride of a man trapped in a vegetative state.
She believed that was the last time their paths would cross. But two years later, Jonathan pinned her in the dark and whispered, "Long time no see, my sister-in-law."
Dangerous Temptation: No Escape From My Brother-In-Law's Obsession Chapter 1
"You're my sister-in-law, right? It's nice finally meeting you. I hope we can get along."
During the lively welcome party, that all-too-familiar voice struck Eleanor Webb without warning, echoing in her ears long after the moment passed.
Everything around her seemed to blur away. Only one person remained clear in her sight.
Jonathan Fletcher.
Two years ago, he had been her boyfriend.
Then everything in her life fell apart overnight. Her father ran off overseas with his mistress and their illegitimate child, and her mother, unable to endure the blow, leapt from a building and was left in a vegetative state.
Faced with crushing medical expenses, Eleanor ended things with Jonathan and agreed to marry Shawn Fletcher, the second son of the Fletcher family, who had fallen into a coma after a car accident, entering a marriage arranged out of necessity.
Back then, she believed she would never cross paths with Jonathan again.
Not once did she expect that he would return as the long-lost eldest son of the Fletcher family.
This entire party had been prepared to welcome him home.
Compared to before, he looked leaner, his features more defined, and there was a cold distance about him that made it clear no one could get close.
"Jonathan, why are you here?"
Eleanor stood rooted in place, unable to react, when a graceful woman stepped forward and slipped her arm through Jonathan's. Her voice carried a soft sweetness, and her cheeks still held a faint blush.
Just moments earlier, the Fletcher family had publicly announced their engagement.
Hannah Benton now stood as Jonathan's fiancée.
That truth sank into Eleanor like a heavy weight, locking her body in place as if she had turned to stone.
"So this is Eleanor? Shawn's wife?" Hannah asked, turning toward her as though noticing her for the first time.
Though her expression faltered for a second, Eleanor forced herself to smile faintly.
"Miss Benton, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm not feeling well, so I'll take my leave."
Giving them a brief nod, Eleanor turned and walked away without waiting for a response.
Not once did she lift her eyes toward Jonathan, and because of that, she never saw the dark, unreadable look in his gaze.
By the time she stepped out of the party venue, all her strength had drained away.
In a daze, she found an empty room and began drinking one glass after another, as if the alcohol might dull the pain clawing through her. As if drowning herself in it might erase every thought of Jonathan.
Each gulp of alcohol scorched her throat, making her cough as tears stung her eyes, yet his image refused to leave her mind. Every memory lingered, from the warmth they once shared to the cold, disdainful look he gave her when everything ended.
Through the haze of alcohol, the door suddenly opened. A tall silhouette appeared, and then moved toward her and pulled her up from where she sat.
Could it be Jonathan?
Without thinking, Eleanor threw her arms around his shoulders, pressing herself against him as she tried to draw in his scent, desperate for something familiar.
As she leaned closer, the grip at her waist tightened, holding her in place.
"Eleanor, you walk into my room without permission, and now you're clinging to me like this. Do you even understand what you're doing?"
His voice brushed against her ear, one she recognized, though it carried a sharp chill. Clutching the fabric of his suit jacket, she lifted her face and moved in to kiss him.
There was no confusion in her mind. She knew what she wanted, and it was only Jonathan.
"You brought this on yourself," he said, his voice strained, each word forced out with tension.
Before she could react, a sharp intensity overtook her. It felt as if her body could not keep up with what was happening.
"Eleanor, did you even look at who I am before you acted like that?"
His breathing grew heavier near her ear. Fingers clamped under her chin, forcing her face upward as pain shot through her.
A faint sound escaped her lips, strained and broken, before her voice gave out completely.
Her strength gave way, and she slumped forward, falling against him as if she had nowhere else to go.
"Jonathan…"
Her thoughts had fallen apart. Only his name escaped her, soft and broken, as though it barely reached the air.
At the sound of it, his movements faltered for just a second.
The hand that had been moving along her back slowed, its touch losing its earlier harshness.
As she gripped his arm, Eleanor's unfocused gaze drifted. In her mind, she wished this man could be Jonathan, yet she knew that couldn't be true.
Back then, she had chosen money over him without hesitation and married into the Fletcher family. Someone like him would only hate her now, so there was no reason he would ever come near her.
A quiet trace of sorrow passed through her eyes, so faint it might have gone unnoticed, yet Jonathan saw it clearly.
"Eleanor, you were never meant for anyone else. You belong to me!"
A faint, chilling laugh slipped from Jonathan as his movements grew faster. His fingers slid to the back of her head, and he pulled her in without hesitation, leaving no space for her to resist.
Eleanor struggled to break free, yet her body refused to obey. His hold kept her locked in place.
Overwhelming sensations rose one after another, swallowing her completely.
As her thoughts blurred and sank, his voice brushed against her ear, sharp and merciless. "Tell me, Eleanor, what does Shawn have that I don't? How am I any less than that cripple?"
Every word cut deep, cold and unforgiving, like a blade striking straight through her chest.
"I'm sorry..."
Tears slipped free without warning, trailing down her face as the same words escaped her lips again and again. "I'm sorry..."
Regret filled her, all because she had sold herself to the Fletcher family back then and stepped into that arranged marriage just to cover her mother's medical costs.
After marrying Shawn, Eleanor had used her medical expertise to bring him out of his coma, yet the damage left behind was too severe. His legs had lost their strength, and even now, he remained trapped in long-term rehabilitation.
His vision had also disappeared, taken by irreversible nerve damage.
Shawn now lived with disabilities that could not be undone.
Even so, a contract signed with Jonathan and Shawn's father, Robert Fletcher, bound her tightly, leaving her no freedom to walk away from Shawn.
For the rest of her life, Eleanor was destined to remain by his side as his wife.
Because of that, Jonathan was someone she could only continue to disappoint.
...
Morning arrived quietly.
Soft sunlight slipped through the gaps in the curtains, scattering unevenly across the room and casting a hazy glow that felt almost unreal.
When Eleanor opened her eyes, pain lingered through every part of her body.
Turning her head slightly, she froze when her gaze landed on Jonathan lying beside her.
Shock flooded her instantly, her pupils widening as her breathing grew uneven.
How could it possibly be him?
With trembling hands, she pulled back the blanket, only to realize she had nothing on at all.
Fragments from the previous night rushed back without warning, draining every trace of color from her face.
Broken flashes of those intense moments filled her mind. The announcement of his engagement had shaken her, and though she rarely touched alcohol, she had forced herself to drink until her senses slipped away.
At first, it felt like nothing more than a vivid dream. Now, faced with reality, there was no denying it. She had truly spent the night with Jonathan.
Given what they had become to each other, this should have never happened.
For a brief second, Eleanor's thoughts tangled into a mess she could not sort through.
She needed to get out before Jonathan opened his eyes.
Driven by panic, Eleanor shoved the blanket aside and tried to slip off the bed. The moment she moved, an arm circled her from behind and pulled her back.
"Where are you planning to run off to?" he asked, his voice rough from sleep, yet carrying a quiet threat.
There was no doubt in her mind. Jonathan was already awake.
"Mr. Fletcher, I have to go," Eleanor said softly, choosing her words with care as she stressed the distance between them.
As soon as he heard that, a low, mocking laugh escaped him.
"Mr. Fletcher? Funny. You did not sound so distant when you came to my bed last night."
Before she could react, the world tilted. In the next instant, Eleanor found herself pressed beneath him.
Her eyes lifted, only to meet the piercing weight of his gaze.
"What happened last night should not have happened. I... I drank too much..." she stammered.
His blunt remark made heat rush to her face, and her heart pounded out of control. Words failed her for a moment.
"So that is your excuse? You drink, and then you go to just anyone?" Jonathan raised a hand and forced her chin up, his eyes filled with contempt. "Though I suppose it makes sense. Shawn cannot see, and he cannot even stand. Of course he would not be able to satisfy you."
Each sentence struck like a deliberate blow, laced with humiliation.
Clarity rushed back into Eleanor's mind.
How had she let herself forget? Jonathan wasn't here by chance. He had come back with a purpose.
If hurting her was part of it, he wouldn't hesitate for a second.
"I really was drunk last night. Let's just forget it ever happened. Please let me go." Eleanor pressed her palms against his chest, her brows drawn tight as she tilted her chin to avoid his hand, her voice lowered but firm.
As he watched her every move, Jonathan's expression darkened, something unreadable passing through his eyes.
Before either of them could move further, a knock suddenly sounded at the door.
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Dangerous Temptation: No Escape From My Brother-In-Law's Obsession of Contents
Chapter 1 Ch. 1Chapter 2 Ch. 2Chapter 3 Ch. 3Chapter 4 Ch. 4Chapter 5 Ch. 5Chapter 6 Ch. 6
Chapter 7 Ch. 7
Chapter 8 Ch. 8
Chapter 9 Ch. 9
Chapter 10 Ch. 10
Chapter 11 Ch. 11
All Chapters all
New Release Novels
7.1
The last thing I remembered was the blinding flash of my starship crashing. But instead of a rescue crew, I woke up tied to a wooden post, surrounded by hostile beastmen.
My universal translator kicked in just in time to hear their priestess, Chelsea, declare that I was a cursed demon who ruined their hunt. To save the clan from winter starvation, I was to be burned alive.
The flames were already blistering my legs, and jagged stones hurled by the crowd gashed my forehead. I barely negotiated a three-day reprieve to find them food, venturing into the deadly primeval forest.
I found a massive supply of wild potatoes and even gained the protection of Bronson, a terrifyingly powerful saber-toothed tiger beastman.
But Chelsea wouldn't stop.
She labeled my food as poisonous, tried to sentence me to starve in a penitent's cave, and when my agricultural knowledge proved her wrong, she invoked an ancient law. She incited the tribe's savage warriors to fight over me, turning me into breeding property.
I was a scientist offering them endless food, yet their primitive ignorance and one woman's vicious jealousy kept pushing me toward a brutal end. I was terrified, completely powerless against their monstrous physical strength.
As five ruthless challengers drew their bone axes to claim me, I begged Bronson to leave me and run.
Instead, he pulled me against his scarred chest and kissed me fiercely in front of the entire clan.
"She is my mate," he roared, unleashing a soul-crushing aura. "Anyone who wants her, come at me together."
7.6
When the Pollard family kicked Alyssa out into the freezing rain, Walter threw a ten-thousand-dollar check into a dirty puddle.
"Take it and get out. Don't ever come back," he sneered.
Her adoptive mother and stepsister stood on the mansion's porch, mocking her as a worthless country girl who tarnished their wealthy name. They laughed, claiming she wouldn't even be able to afford community college and would be begging on the streets in a week.
They looked at her cheap clothes and worn backpack with absolute disgust.
They were completely unaware that for the past five years, Alyssa was the secret mastermind who had built their failing gallery into a multi-million-dollar investment empire.
Every key investment, every fortune they made, came from the anonymous notes she had slipped into their unread books. They genuinely believed they were business geniuses, while treating the true architect of their wealth like a stray dog.
Looking at their smug, arrogant faces, Alyssa didn't feel a shred of sadness, only a cold, sharp irony.
They actually believed they had raised her.
She stepped close, whispered the master code to Walter's most secret offshore account, and watched the blood completely drain from his face.
"I raised you," she said, turning her back on the mansion without hesitation.
Walking into the storm, she pulled out a heavily encrypted phone and gave a single, cold order.
"Initiate a full hostile takeover of the Pollard Group."
It was time to end this little game and step into her true life—as the world's most elusive medical genius, and the long-lost billionaire heiress of the Summers dynasty.
8.7
Ada was eight months pregnant, sitting peacefully in her husband's Manhattan estate, looking at a baby nursery catalog.
Suddenly, her husband's mistress, Jacklyn, walked in, threw an ultrasound photo on the table, and locked the door.
Before Ada could process the betrayal, Jacklyn dragged her to the top of the marble staircase and threw herself backward just as Desmond walked through the front doors.
"She pushed me, Desmond! She tried to kill our baby!"
Desmond looked at Ada with absolute hatred.
He ignored Ada's breaking water and her agonizing screams for help, leaving her to miscarry on the freezing floor while he rushed Jacklyn to the hospital.
He sent Ada to a brutal federal prison for three years, where she was tortured and left with a body covered in horrific scars, mourning the baby she was told died at birth.
When Ada was finally released, Desmond destroyed her cousin's company to force her back to his estate as a lowly maid.
But when Ada saw Jacklyn's three-year-old son, her world stopped.
Right in the center of the little boy's palm was a faint crescent moon birthmark.
It was the exact same mark Ada had kissed on her own lifeless baby's tiny hand before the doctors took his body away.
How did her dead child become Jacklyn's little prince?
Looking at the woman who stole her life and the husband who threw her in hell, Ada clenched her scarred hands and swore she would tear their world apart to get her son back.
7.4
Briony was devastated when her boyfriend proposed to her best friend in front of her. Not only was she betrayed, but she was also publicly humiliated.
Five years later, she became popular after writing her heartbreaking love story into a novel. Her ex-boyfriend was offended. When he condemned her, she swore she would have nothing to do with him anymore.
Unfortunately, fate had other plans. Briony accidentally hit a child with her car, who turned out to be the son of Alexander, her ex-boyfriend! As punishment, she was forced to be his nanny until his cast arm healed.
What would happen next? Could she endure the torture from the ex who secretly still wanted her?
7.6
I was the fiancée of the Chicago Outfit’s heir, a bond sealed by blood and eighteen years of history.
But when his mistress pushed me into the freezing pool at our engagement gala, Jax didn’t swim toward me.
He swam past me.
He scooped up the girl who pushed me, cradling her like fragile glass, while I struggled against the weight of my gown in the murky water.
When I finally dragged myself out, shivering and humiliated before the entire underworld, Jax didn’t offer a hand. He offered a scowl.
"You’re making a scene, Eliana. Go home."
Later, when that same mistress shoved me down the stairs, shattering my knee and my dance career, Jax stepped over my broken body to comfort her.
I overheard him telling his friends, "I’m just breaking her spirit. She needs to learn she’s property, not a partner. Once she’s desperate enough, she’ll be the perfect obedient wife."
He thought I was a dog that would always return to its master. He thought he could starve me of affection until I begged for scraps.
He was wrong.
While he was busy playing protector to his mistress, I wasn't crying in my room.
I was packing his ring into a cardboard box.
I cancelled my transfer to UCLA and enrolled at NYU instead.
By the time Jax realized his "property" was missing, I was already in New York, standing next to a man who looked at me like a queen, not a possession.
8.9
Ava Kidd just wanted to escape her abusive stepmother when she got drunk at a high-end club and stumbled into the wrong hotel room.
She woke up the next morning in a luxury penthouse, lying naked next to a terrifyingly handsome man covered in her scratch marks.
Recalling rumors of the hotel's secret underground concierge, she immediately assumed she had accidentally slept with an elite male escort.
Desperate to settle the bill, she offered him her only debit card with a pathetic $1,800.
But the man, who was actually Garrison Terry, the ruthless billionaire CEO, was deeply insulted by the cheap plastic.
He trapped her against the bed, coldly demanding a half-million-dollar service fee.
When Ava frantically offered her dead mother's tarnished locket as collateral, he cruelly dismissed it as worthless junk.
Ava was humiliated, her heart pounding with absolute terror.
She didn't understand why this arrogant gigolo was acting like a deranged extortionist, demanding a fortune from a broke girl who had clearly made a mistake.
Furious and refusing to cower, she sneaked out, put on his oversized designer shirt, and aggressively ate his $800 truffle breakfast.
Having no money left, she grabbed her cheap red lipstick, wrote a defiant IOU on his expensive linen napkin, and fled the hotel.
She thought she had escaped a criminal, but upstairs, the billionaire traced her lipstick-stained name with a predatory smile.
"Ava Kidd, I will absolutely find you."
