Burning Desire of My Husband's Uncle
In a game of deception, one forbidden desire could change everything.
Forced into an arranged marriage with a wealthy heir she doesn't love, Lena is determined to escape. Her plan? Disguise herself as an unattractive woman to drive her husband away and earn a swift divorce.
But things don't go as planned.
Neil River-the enigmatic uncle of her husband-is a sharp, dangerous man who knows far more than he should. Not only does he see through Lena's disguise, but he also uncovers her double life as the mysterious owner of an elite karaoke club that men whisper about in secret.
Instead of exposing her, Neil becomes intrigued.
He tempts her, pushes her, until Lena finds herself caught in a dangerous game-one where the lines between revenge, lust, and love begin to blur.
Can Lena escape the pull of a man she was never meant to love-her husband's uncle?
"So? Did you manage to seduce your husband today?"
"No, Uncle. I got all dolled up since dawn, but he... he looked at me like I was disgusting."
"Then what if I'm the one... who's tempted?"
"Uncle... you're joking, right?"
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Chapter 10
The room was silent. Only the ticking of the wall clock and the soft hum of the air conditioner filled the space as Lena lay awake, restless. Her eyes were shut, forcing herself to sleep, but her mind refused to settle. Her heart had been pounding wildly for a while now. And the worst part?
It wasn't fear that kept her awake.
It was the man lying behind her.
Neil.
Lena turned toward the wall, trying to put as much distance as possible between them-even though their bodies weren't touching at all.
"Why do I have to share a room with him again?" she muttered under her breath.
But... this wasn't the first time they had shared a bed, was it?
She exhaled slowly, eyes still closed.
Yes, but back then I was still pretending to be the "ugly version" of Lena. Now, I'm Selena-the real me.
With her long hair flowing loose, fair skin, and a satin nightgown far too feminine for such a complicated situation.
And Neil... God. Why did it have to be him?
Lena cursed silently. Angry-not only because she still remembered how his lips had once brushed hers so gently, but because she could still feel how his hand had caressed her hair as if she were the most fragile creature in the world.
"What is wrong with me?!" she grumbled, rolling over. But as soon as her eyes opened, she froze.
There he was-Neil, sleeping peacefully. The dim glow of the bedside lamp highlighted the sharp line of his jaw, the tall bridge of his nose, and his thick brows that somehow looked intimidating even in sleep.
Lena swallowed hard. Her heart raced faster. Why did he have to look so... mesmerizing, even while asleep?
Without realizing it, she stared, taking in every detail of his face. Her fingers slowly lifted, inching toward his jawline.
Warm. Solid. Real.
But before she could pull away, a larger hand caught hers swiftly. Lena's breath hitched, her body going stiff.
Those sharp eyes were now open, locking onto hers.
"What are you doing?" Neil's voice was low, raspy from sleep, but still carried the same dominant edge that always left her breathless.
"I-I... I didn't mean-" Lena stammered, trying to pull her hand back, but his grip didn't loosen.
"Didn't mean to?" Neil narrowed his eyes. "So now you touch people in their sleep, is that it?"
Lena turned her face away. "No! I just... I-"
"Forget it. Just admit it. You wanted to touch me," he murmured, a crooked smile tugging at his lips-one that made Lena want to scream.
"No!" Lena shot back quickly. But before she could move away, Neil pulled her closer, wrapping both arms around her.
"Neil! Let go of me! What are you doing?!" Lena struggled, pushing against his chest. "You're insane!"
"Stop hitting me," he groaned, wincing. "My wound still hurts, you know."
Lena froze for a moment. "I-I'm sorry..." her voice softened, guilt creeping in. "But still, let me go. I... I'm someone else's wife."
"Just for tonight..." Neil whispered so softly it was almost a sigh. "Let me hold you... just tonight."
The tip of his nose brushed the top of her head, breathing in her scent as though it was the only air he needed. Lena felt his warm breath against her hair-strangely soothing. And... confusing.
"You know... I'm tired of pretending I don't care about you," he said, even softer this time.
Lena froze. Her mind struggled to process his words.
What... did he mean?
Her body went rigid, but her heartbeat grew more erratic. Damn it... why did this feel... comforting?
She tilted her head slightly. Neil's eyes were already closed again. His breathing was steady. Maybe he had fallen back asleep. But his arms remained firm around her.
This is my chance. I should move. Slowly. Carefully.
But... why wasn't she moving? Why did it feel... like she wanted to stay?
Her fingers trembled slightly. She bit her lip. The storm of emotions in her chest was suffocating-not from fear, not from disgust.
But from confusion.
Do I... actually like him?
No. Impossible.
But if that's true... then why does his embrace feel like the only place where my heart isn't breaking?
Lena shook her head slightly, trying to drag herself back to reality, to fight the comfort wrapping around her. But she couldn't.
Because, somewhere along the way...
She had begun to choose someone she was never supposed to fall for.
---
"Axel! You're drunk!"
Richard's booming voice shattered the brief silence that had hung in the luxurious living room just moments ago.
The middle-aged man stormed out of his study, his eyes widening at the sight of his only son staggering into the house. The stench of alcohol hit him from meters away. Axel's shirt was wrinkled, half-unbuttoned, his hair a mess, and a mocking smile curled on his lips-fueling Richard's rage.
"Hah... Dad..." Axel chuckled lazily, his voice thick with liquor and sarcasm. "My beloved daddy was waiting for me, huh?"
Behind Richard stood two women-Lena, her hands clenched tight, trying to contain the storm of frustration and pain inside her chest. Beside her, Elizabeth-Richard's wife-watched Axel with a mix of worry and resignation.
"You ungrateful brat!" Richard barked. "Instead of working and building a life, you come home drunk like this! You're married, have you forgotten that?!"
Axel snorted, halting his steps. His bleary eyes landed on Lena, filled with raw disgust.
"That ugly wife, you mean?" he slurred, pointing a trembling finger at her. "I wouldn't touch that trash even if she begged. Hahaha..."
SMACK!
Without warning, Richard's palm struck Axel's face hard, sending the young man sprawling onto the cold marble floor.
"You disgrace!" Richard roared, his face red with fury.
"Darling, don't be so harsh on your own son!" Elizabeth cried, shocked by his outburst.
Richard shot her a sharp glare. "This is your fault! You spoiled him into becoming a lazy, drunken, disrespectful mess!"
Elizabeth fell silent. His words cut deep, but she knew he wasn't entirely wrong.
"Lena, take Axel to his room," she said softly, weary but composed.
Lena nodded obediently, though her chest ached with anger. She stepped forward, helping Axel to his feet. He stumbled but still managed to sneer in her ear.
"Ugly wife... haha... your face could make a baby cry..."
Lena rolled her eyes.
God... why did I marry a drunk, lazy womanizer? she thought bitterly.
Once they reached his bedroom, Lena shoved Axel onto the bed without mercy. He groaned, then laughed again.
But just as Lena turned to leave, Axel suddenly grabbed her arm, pulling her down onto the bed with him.
"Rachel... let's make love..." he mumbled, his eyes glazed.
"Hey! Let me go! I'm Lena, not Rachel!" she snapped, struggling to free herself, but Axel pinned her wrists above her head.
"Rachel... you smell so good..."
Lena froze as his face drew closer. The stench of alcohol burned her nose, panic rising in her chest. She thrashed harder, but Axel's drunken grip remained strong.
Oh God... is he about to kiss me? No...
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8.2
I was trapped in a velvet booth at Le Bernardin, Arthur Sterling’s hand crawling up my knee as he whispered that my father would be in handcuffs by morning if I didn't spend the night with him.
Desperate to escape, I lunged at the only man more dangerous than Arthur—Gunnar Kirk, the "Butcher of Wall Street"—and kissed him in front of every camera in the room, thinking I was choosing the lesser of two evils.
I was wrong; Gunnar didn't just play along, he took possession, forcing me into a cold-blooded contract to be his fake fiancée to save his corporate image from an SEC investigation. While my greedy stepmother and sister were busy fighting over the diamonds he sent, I was living in terror, trying to hide the one thing that truly mattered: my infant son, hidden away with a nanny in a cramped Queens apartment. When my baby suffered a febrile seizure and I rushed to the ER, I looked up to see Gunnar standing in the doorway, his glacial eyes boring into me as he realized the "ruined" socialite was hiding a child from her past.
I tried to sabotage the wedding, setting up my fame-hungry stepsister as a decoy bride so I could flee to Switzerland with my son, but Gunnar caught me on the fire escape before I could take a single step toward freedom. He threw me over his shoulder like a sack of flour and told me that if I didn't walk down that aisle, he would personally ensure my father rotted in prison.
We stood at the altar and exchanged vows in a ceremony built on blackmail and lies, but as we walked out as husband and wife, Gunnar didn't look at me with affection; he turned to his assistant and ordered a total deep dive into the medical records I had spent a year trying to erase.
"Find out exactly what happened during those nine months in Switzerland, and tell me who that baby really belongs to."
9.1
He lifted his hand and brushed a strand of hair from my face, fingers grazing too gently. I snapped, "How many times do I have to tell you not to touch me?" His mouth curved, the faintest smirk. "You walked in here looking like a fucking temptation. And you think I'm not supposed to touch?" I tilted my chin, refusing to back down. "Funny. I thought you said I didn't look good." He leaned closer, voice low, eyes burning through me. "You don't look good. You look dangerous." My chest tightened, heat crawling under my skin. I rolled my eyes, masking the pull I refused to admit. "Get lost," I muttered, shoving against him. "You're mine, Tessa,"
******
His Biker Girl | swore l'd never get tangled up with bikers. Then I met him.
Jason "Viper" Kane, the ruthless prince of the Black Serpents.
Arrogant. Untouchable. Dangerous. Every girl on campus wants him, but not me. He thought I'd be easy to break. He was wrong.
Her Biker Prince She's fire wrapped in leather, and every time she rides, she tempts me closer to the edge. Tessa Monroe, bold, defiant, impossible to control. I wanted to crush her pride, ruin that ego, make her beg. But the more I chase her, the more I burn. She's the one thing I shouldn't want. And the only thing l'll never let go.
7.8
I had exactly forty-five minutes to get married, or I would lose the voting shares needed to stop my father from laundering millions through our family foundation. Everything was riding on this one legal signature at the City Clerk’s office.
But just as I reached the front of the line, my phone buzzed with a high-definition photo of my fiancé, Preston, tangled in sheets with a junior associate at a SoHo hotel. The man I was about to tie my life to was a fraud, and my deadline was ticking toward zero.
When I shoved the evidence in his face, he didn't even flinch. Instead, he gripped my wrist until the bone ground together, whispering that I was just a "junkie" fresh out of a Swiss clinic and that no one else would ever marry a liability with a personality disorder. My father was already standing by with a fraudulent medical affidavit, ready to force me into a conservatorship and strip me of my freedom the moment the clock hit 5 PM.
They had spent years using my fake "instability" as a leash, treating me like a broken doll while they bled the company dry. I was the only one with the evidence to take them down, yet I was being discarded like a sunk cost by the very men who were supposed to protect me.
I looked at Preston’s smug face and realized I didn't need a husband; I needed a predator. I scanned the room and spotted Dominik Mack, the "Vulture of Wall Street," a man who specialized in hostile takeovers and stripping men like my father of everything they owned.
I walked straight up to the most dangerous man in New York and offered him a business transaction.
"Do you want to get married?" I asked.
He looked at my trembling hands, then at the man chasing me, and adjusted his collar with clinical detachment.
"Deal," he said.
I didn't just find a groom; I found an accomplice. This wasn't a wedding anymore—it was a declaration of war.
8.8
Betrayed. Broken. After her chosen mate chooses her stepsister for the mating ritual. She a half-breed omega is cast out of the only pack she's ever known. But running away and becoming a lone wolf was a far easier fate. Not until....
When the youngest of three rival Alpha lycan brothers finds her bleeding and alone, he claims her as his. Yet at a royal summit, the other two brothers scents her too and the word slips from their lips in unison. Confusion spirals into chaos. Three powerful Alphas, bound by blood but divided by ambition, are suddenly linked to the same woman. She becomes their weakness, their obsession, their prize.
But being fated to all three cursed lycans isn't a blessing, it's a war. Between the brothers. Between their packs. Between love and survival.
She has to decide if she will let them destroy her... or if she'll rise from the ashes of rejection and betrayal to make them kneel.
A story of obsession, desire, and power where one weak omega stands at the center of a dangerous game and the hearts of three ruthless Alphas
7.6
Age Gap Romance/Arranged Marriage/Strong Heroine/Found Family/Revenge/Slow Burn Romance
Nineteen-year-old Clarice Sullivan was forced by her scumbag father to marry Theodore Grant, a man of thirty-one. On their wedding night, Theodore, transformed into a ravenous wolf, left her utterly exhausted. "I thought you said you couldn't?" she muttered, rubbing her aching lower back. "Aren't men in their thirties supposed to know some restraint?" Theodore, irritated, pinned her down again. "Round two!" he growled.
After marriage, Theodore switched into full protective-and-doting-husband mode.
"Darling, my worthless father is trying to hit me again!"
"Just wait," Theodore snapped, his temper flaring. He promptly dismantled the entire Sullivan family.
"Darling, she drugged me-tried to hand me over to another man!" Clarice pointed accusingly at her wicked half-sister. Theodore's fury erupted. He slapped the woman hard across the face and ensured her reputation was ruined beyond repair.
With Theodore's unwavering devotion backing her, Clarice repaid every slight and cruelty a thousandfold. When others criticized her for being spoiled, Theodore scoffed, "I'm the one who spoiled her-got a problem with that?"
7.4
"You? A Luna? You think I ever wanted you?"
"Don't flatter yourself, Rhaella. You were nothing but a mistake fate dumped on me!"
– – – – – – – – – – – –
Betrayed by her mate and shipped to the ruthless Lycranox Pack.
A place where no Omega dares to go.
Rhaella wants only one thing... revenge. Her plan? Seduce the one man her ex fears most: Logan. His powerful VIP. Dangerous and untouchable.
But Logan doesn't play fair. He hunts. He takes. And with every look, every touch, Rhaella slips deeper into a game she swore she was controlling.
She came to ruin him for her vengeance... but what happens when the seducer becomes the seduced?