CELINE:The Sheikh Dessert Bride

* **One night of betrayal. One night of passion. A lifetime of consequences.** Celine was always the shadow-the reliable twin who worked while her sister, Celeste, basked in the spotlight. But when she finds her boyfriend of five months in her sister's bed, the shadow finally snaps. A reckless night at a dive bar with a hazel-eyed stranger was supposed to be her escape, a way to forget the people who saw her as a spare part. But the stranger wasn't just a face in the crowd. He was **Idris Al-Miraj**, the billionaire Sheikh and the owner of the very hotel where Celine works. When her parents attempt to sell her into a sacrificial marriage to save the family's reputation, Celine finds herself hunted by her past and trapped by her future. Idris doesn't just want her back in his bed; he wants to own every brick of the wall she's built around her heart. Jobless, homeless, and backed into a corner by a family that only needs her when they can use her, Celine prepares to run again. But Idris has other plans. He doesn't want her to run. He doesn't even want her to surrender. He wants her to fight back. **"Use me,"** he says. In a world where power is the only currency, Celine must decide if the man who dismantled her life is her greatest enemy-or the only weapon she has left.

Chapters

Chapter 4

O'Malley's Bar was a pressure cooker at midnight-sweat-slick dancers grinding under erratic strobes, bass vibrating bones, air saturated with spilled tequila, cheap cologne, and sizzling fryer grease from the kitchen. Laughter clashed with shouts; a bachelorette party shrieked karaoke in the corner. Celine collapsed onto a scarred barstool, conquest buzzing from her shin-smashing victory over the creep. Tequila tsunami-fifteen shots? Twenty?-swirled her world into euphoric blur. Legs numb as noodles, inhibitions vaporized. Jamal's pencil-dick humiliation? Faded to punchline. Celeste's betrayal? Fuel for her throne.She fanned her neck, crop top damp against curves, jeans riding low-unaware of the spotlight she'd claimed. Until one gaze seared hotter than the rest. From the plush VIP booth shrouded in shadow, he'd tracked her all night: dance-floor domination, bar-fight glory. Now, he unfolded-six-foot-three of coiled power gliding through chaos like smoke. Idris Al-Miraj, 32, enigmatic owner of Al-Miraj Grand Palace, shedding boardroom armor for anonymous thrill after a cutthroat investor call. Black linen shirt molded to broad chest and ripped abs, sleeves rolled exposing veined forearms inked subtle; dark jeans hugged powerful thighs, boots polished lethal. Hazel eyes burned under arched brows, full lips curved knowing, trimmed beard framing a jawline sharp as obsidian. Oud-spiced cologne sliced the dive's funk.He materialized beside her, presence electric, voice a deep timbre laced with exotic lilt. "Mind if I sit?"Celine's head snapped up, drunk haze crystallizing on perfection. Holy shit-god carved from marble. Eyes that undressed, shoulders broad enough to break her fall. "Hell yeah," she slurred, patting stool sloppy. "Sit. Drink. Entertain me."Idris eased in, thigh grazing hers-spark. He nodded to Mick; scotch on rocks materialized, ice clinking seduction. Talk sparked instant: her venomous ex-roasts ("Pencil-dick clowns couldn't find the spot with GPS!"), his laughter rumbling chest-deep, vibrating her bones. "Firecracker like you," he murmured, gaze devouring lips, throat, cleavage, "belongs in spotlights, not shadows."Emboldened, she bantered-hotel hell ("Mopping suites for ghosts; owner's probably a fossil hermit"), twin treachery, eviction threats, kick triumph. Idris leaned closer, questions velvet traps: dreams stifled by grind? Passions buried? His accent wrapped words like cashmere-hints of dunes, mystery. Proximity intoxicated more than booze; knee nudged knee deliberate, fingers brushing hers on glass. Heat pooled low; her laughs turned husky, his smirks promising sin.1:27 AM. Inn alarm blared mental-pre-booked dump to dodge apartment poison. "Peacin' out," she mumbled, lurching up. Vertigo hit; Alicia swallowed by dance horde. Heels betrayed; floor, meet face.Iron arms encircled waist-Idris, steady as rock. "Steady now. I've got you." Warmth seeped through fabric, scent enveloping: spice, leather, man."Fankyou," she garbled, melting into support. He navigated exit gauntlet-dodging grabs, silencing whistles with glare. Night assaulted: cool gust whipping curls, stars spinning carousel. SUV loomed-obsidian beast, tinted void. Gentleman door-open; she tumbled in, leather cradling like throne.Purr of engine soothed as streets blurred neon streaks. "Your address?" Idris queried, one hand wheel, other relaxed potent."Neeearest inn," she yawned, eyes drooping. "Anythin' close. Nigh'..."Oblivion took; Idris stole glances, braking at Starlight Inn's garish glow-budget trap with vacancy neon sputtering. Her face transformed: tension melted, lips bee-stung parted on sighs, lashes fanning golden cheeks, curls riotous halo. Breathtaking vulnerability pierced him. Fingertip ghosted hair from forehead, tracing jaw soft. "Beautiful," he whispered husky, resolve fraying. Carrier instinct surged; he circled, lifting bridal-effortless, her body fitting puzzle-piece against chest. Head nestled crook neck, breaths feathering skin.Lobby reeked bleach/mothballs; pimpled clerk jaw-dropped at Adonis hauling drunk Venus. "Premier suite," Idris commanded crisp, slapping crisp bills-hundred overflow. "Absolute privacy. No knocks." Keyring jingled conquest; stairs conquered two-strides, her weight feather.Room 12 sanctuary: king sleigh bed drowning in starched white, AC whispering chill, motel potpourri battling faint mildew. Idris deposited her reverent-pillow fluffed under head, sheet draped modest. Shrugged jacket; exit stage left. No villain here.Delicate vise snared wrist. Celine roused, gaze foggy fire, hauling insistent. "Spend... night," slurred siren song, nails raking forearm. "Pay top dollar. Pleeease."Throat bobbed; battle internal. "Can't. Drunk haze-morning you'd curse me."Pout lethal weapon. "Regret nothin'." Giggle dissolved to growl, collar fisted, dragging down. "Just. Sex." Palms framed bearded face-electric touch-and lips pulverized his. Tequila-wild, desperate hunger.Restraint shattered. Idris groaned primal, yielding torrent. Fingers knotted curls possessive; he ravaged back, tongue breaching velvet heat, tangling duel savage. Her flavor detonated-lime-sweet, untamed need. Tongues warred slick; hands roamed ravenous: hers shredding shirt buttons, his palming waist flare to thigh.Massive 3500 words

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After three agonizing months, I finally found my fiancé, Barnett Spencer, at a gala at The Plaza. He had vanished without a trace, and I was on the verge of losing my mind. But when I saw him on stage, my blood turned to ice. He had a strange woman tucked into his arm, and a lawyer announced that a recent accident had erased the last six years of his memory-our entire relationship. In front of a sea of reporters, Barnett looked right through me with freezing hostility. "Miss, you have the wrong person." He then declared that the woman beside him, Joslyn, was not only the person who saved his life but also his new, legal wife. The news hit me like a physical blow, and the camera flashes swallowed me whole as reporters shoved microphones in my face, asking how it felt to be publicly dumped. The man I had loved for six years had turned me into a national joke, a delusional stranger trying to cling to his wealth. That night, as I was drowning my humiliation in a martini, his ruthless younger brother, Dixon, found me. He slid a marriage contract across the bar. "Marry me," he said, his voice a low rumble. "I want his shares. You want his pain. We both get what we want." Fueled by alcohol and a burning need for revenge, I grabbed his pen and signed my name. I was no longer the abandoned fiancée. I was about to become my ex's worst nightmare: his new sister-in-law.

Action Modern Romance

8.2

Hero Alpha and Dying Stepdaughter

8.2

After her wolf's sacrifice triggers a rebirth, a battle-scarred daughter chooses a different fate. In her first life, she bled in fighting pits to restore her father's honor, only to be cast aside. Now, her sister claims that path, leaving her to join her mother and the formidable Alpha Alaric. With her internal spirit decaying from past trauma, she seeks a quiet life over glory. She must navigate a new pack while hiding the terminal state of her soul.

Action Adventure Fantasy Romance Werewolf

9.1

My Mafia Bridegroom Regretted After Refusing Wedding

9.1

As the secret Principessa of the Sicilian Shepherd Mafia, my identity remained hidden for my own safety. However, during our wedding, my arrogant fiancé humiliated me by allowing his bodyguard to feed my family token to a dog. He dismissed my background as insignificant and even threatened to destroy my kin. After one phone call, armored vehicles stormed the estate. As our Consigliere knelt before me, my fiancé realized I was the sole heir to Europe’s largest arms trade.

Action Mafia Modern Mystery Romance

9.8

My Wife's a Doctor and a Killer

9.8

Finn’s mother desperately needs a heart transplant, and his wife Wendy Lowell is the only surgeon capable of the task. However, Finn discovers Wendy in a compromising position with her assistant. Instead of showing remorse, Wendy retaliates against Finn’s confrontation by ordering his mother’s oxygen supply cut off. Driven to the brink by her cruelty and infidelity, Finn decides he will no longer play the victim. He begins a dangerous game of shadows to expose Wendy’s crimes and ensure she pays for her heartless betrayal.

Action Modern Mystery Romance

8.8

Rejected Shadow Luna

8.8

Ryker Voss branded Sara Harlan rogue and abandoned her to die, all because she was his fated mate. Alpha Kael Draven pulls her from the brink and claims her as his second chance—but he keeps her hidden in darkness and refuses to name their bond love. Then Alpha Snow truly sees her, and his touch stirs a dangerous power waking inside her, one that could bring packs to their knees. With enemies closing in and a traitor lurking within Silvermoon, Sara must decide: remain the broken Omega they made her, or become the vengeance no one saw coming.

Action Adventure Fantasy Romance Werewolf

7.6

Replaced By A Mistress: The Wife's Revenge

7.6

I went to the City Clerk's office to update my passport, desperate to feel alive again after losing my ability to draw. Instead, the clerk handed me a reality that killed me. "Mrs. Crosby," she whispered, her face drained of color. "You aren't married to Bennet. The divorce was finalized three years ago. On October 12th." The date hit me harder than a physical blow. October 12th was the day my right hand was crushed. The day Gianna Skinner, a woman obsessed with my husband, shattered twenty-seven bones in my drawing hand with a marble bust. Bennet, the most ruthless Don in New York, had promised me justice. He swore he locked Gianna in a dungeon to rot for hurting his "Angel." But the screen in front of me told a different story. He had married Gianna the very same day he divorced me. I drove to the Lake House where she was supposed to be suffering. I didn't find a prison; I found a modern glass palace. There they were, sitting on a swing set I had designed. Gianna wasn't rotting. She was laughing in his lap, wearing a silk robe. "She is so pathetic," Gianna purred, tracing his jaw. "Five years and she still thinks she is the Lady of the house." Bennet chuckled, the sound dark and terrifying. "She is broken, Gianna. A bird with no wings. She has no value to the Family anymore, except as a trophy on my shelf. She is my pet. You are my fire." My phone buzzed in my pocket. A text from Bennet. "Happy Anniversary, my Angel. Tonight, I give you the world." He wasn't giving me the world. He was building a cage out of lies. Through a bugged ring, I later heard his endgame: he planned to institutionalize me for "mental instability" so he could bring Gianna into the light. I didn't go home to cry. I went to my office and opened a secure browser on the dark web. *Subject: Protocol Erasure.* *Target: Harper Cline.* *Execution: Immediate.* Bennet thought he had broken his pet. He was about to realize he had just unleashed a lioness.

Action Modern Romance

CELINE:The Sheikh Dessert Bride

Chapter 4

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