Cinderella's Revenge
Dumped by her fiancé just days before their wedding, only to watch him marry someone else-what would you do? Cry yourself to sleep, or dress to kill for revenge?
That was Elaina's reality. She's no Cinderella, yet she lost a shoe while recklessly crashing her ex's wedding. Her revenge plan went up in flames, but fate had other ideas, throwing her into the path of Alister-a man who is handsome, charismatic, and dangerous... and ironically, the person closest to her ex-fiancé.
Amidst heartbreak and vendettas, Alister paints her world in new colors, turning Elaina into a modern-day Cinderella. But will this story end in "happily ever after," or is Alister merely leading her into a much more dangerous game?
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Chapter 3
The pair walked through the dimly lit basement after the car was parked, heading toward the elevator that led to the apartment's main lobby.
"Hey, Mister. Your place is nice," Elaina giggled as they crossed the expansive, marble-clad lobby.
"It's just a loan," the man replied smoothly.
"But I like it." Elaina spread her arms wide, swaying unsteadily in front of him. She didn't care where she was or where he was taking her. Her brain was a blur; she was struggling enough just to keep her feet moving in a straight line.
The man smiled. "You like it?"
Elaina nodded vigorously. "I love it!"
A security guard greeted the man with a nod, stealing a quick, curious glance at Elaina before letting them through to the residents' elevator. Elaina managed to snatch the last can of beer, successfully cracking it open and draining the contents in one go.
"Aah... so good."
They were alone in the elevator. The man let out a soft, amused chuckle, watching her drunkenly hum a tune. When the doors opened on the 20th floor, he guided her out and toward unit 205. As the door swung open, Elaina let out a small shriek of delight.
"Wow, what a gorgeous apartment!" She laughed, spinning around the living room. She stumbled back, accidentally bumping into him.
"You're cool."
"I'm cool?"
"Very. Your house is cool."
"A borrowed house," he reminded her.
"Hehehe. What's your name?"
"Alister."
"What a cool name."
Elaina began to mumble incoherent sentences, slipping out of Alister's hold. She started to sing with a voice that was-thankfully-not off-key. It was a heartbreak song. She screamed, she cried, and she cursed Fidell. She was the textbook definition of a woman with a shattered heart.
Alister left her in the living room, heading to his bedroom to remove his glasses and change into something more comfortable. When he stepped back out, he was stunned. Elaina had stripped down, standing there in nothing but her lace bra and panties.
"Am I not pretty enough?" Elaina moved toward him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her body against his.
Alister took a deep, stabilizing breath. "You are very beautiful."
"Am I not sexy enough?" she whimpered, her voice half-whining.
"No, you're incredibly sexy."
"Then... I'm not rich enough."
Elaina pulled him down by his neck, her lips brushing against his as she stood on her tiptoes. "Mmm, your lips taste good." She pressed a soft, tentative kiss to his.
She didn't know where this sudden surge of boldness came from-kissing a man she barely knew. All she wanted was to drown out the bitterness and the hollow ache inside her. She kept kissing him, urging Alister's lips to part until she could taste him fully.
Alister slowly rested his hands on her waist, allowing her to explore his mouth. Though his desire was surging, he fought to restrain himself. The woman in his arms wasn't sober; he couldn't let himself lose control. But Elaina was becoming bolder by the second.
"Kiss me," she whispered against his lips.
"You want me to kiss you?" his voice was a low rasp.
"Yes. Kiss me until I forget everything."
Alister smirked. "Forgetting your problems with a kiss? Not a bad idea."
Elaina didn't protest when Alister gripped her waist firmly. She stood on her toes, hungrily meeting his lips. She gasped when he suddenly swept her off her feet, carrying her to the sofa. The kiss deepened, turning intense as she lay draped over him. She didn't care where his hands wandered; in that moment, she was ready to give him everything.
"You're so warm," Elaina whispered, her fingers tracing the contours of his chest. "Your chest is so firm, your shoulders so broad... I like it." Without hesitation, she nipped at his shoulder, making him gasp.
"It would be better if we did this while you were conscious, Elaina," Alister managed to say.
Elaina shook her head stubbornly. "I feel good right now. Come on, kiss me again."
Alister cupped her chin and kissed her softly. When he heard her moan, he couldn't help but deepen the kiss, met by her desperate response. He let his tongue tangle with hers, savoring the taste of her. He winced slightly as she ground her hips against his, his own body reacting violently to her proximity. He cursed inwardly, praying he wouldn't lose his resolve. The sight of her was intoxicating.
Wrapped in her white bra, her skin glistening with a fine sheen of sweat, Alister could see her body trembling with anticipation. He imagined what it would feel like to touch her fully. As if reading his mind, Elaina reached behind her back and unclipped her bra. In an instant, the fabric slid to the floor. She smiled, returning her lips to his.
"Sir... touch me," she whispered, her voice husky.
"Touch you where?" Alister asked.
"Everywhere. Please."
Alister tried to resist when she guided his hand to her breast. But the moment his fingers brushed against her silken skin and her hardened peak, his self-control vanished. He kneaded her softly, and Elaina bit her lip. He traced the tip with his thumb before leaning down. His tongue swept over her, and he heard her let out a long, broken moan.
"Why do you want this?" he whispered hoarsely against her skin.
Elaina shook her head. "I just do."
There was no perfect reason. She just needed to prove that she was still desirable. Her self-worth had been trampled by Fidell. She felt unwanted, discarded. Being with this handsome stranger was her way of proving she was still a woman worth wanting.
Alister lowered his head, doing exactly what had been on his mind since they arrived. Elaina's breathing grew ragged. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, burying his face against her. Groans, sighs, and the heavy sound of desire filled the room.
Elaina felt like she was burning up, pressing herself against him. She closed her eyes, biting her lip as Alister brought her a pleasure she had never known. It was strange, but electric. She reached for his shirt, fumbling to pull it off. When the fabric was finally gone, she gasped.
"Wow... so much hair," she sighed breathlessly.
She brushed her fingers through the light trail of hair on his chest that led down toward his stomach. She loved the sensation against her fingertips. Finding his own peaks, she teased them, watching him grow more tense. Gathering her courage, she leaned down, mirroring the attention he had given her.
"Elaina, what are you doing?" Alister asked, his voice strained.
"The same thing you did," she murmured.
She kissed and teased his skin before sat up to reclaim his lips.
Alister cursed under his breath, unable to fight the fire in his veins any longer. He was only human, and a half-naked woman was devouring him. He lifted her off his lap, laying her back against the sofa, and quickly disposed of her remaining lace. Elaina didn't resist. She lay there, her eyes clouded with lust and haze. Reflexively, one hand moved to cover herself.
"Sir... what are you doing?" she asked.
Alister smiled darkly. "What do you want me to do, Elaina?"
Elaina bit her lip and shook her head. "I... I don't know."
Alister moved her hand away, his index finger slowly tracing her. "How about this? Do you like this?"
Elaina's eyes widened, but she nodded. "Yes, Sir."
"And this?" He leaned in closer, his touch becoming more deliberate. Again, she nodded.
Alister suppressed a smile, his own breath coming in short bursts. He traced her gently, his movements rhythmic and teasing.
"Open your legs for me," he commanded.
She obeyed, spreading herself for him. When she realized what he was about to do, her eyes went wide.
"Get ready. You can scream if you want to. You're free here, Elaina."
At first, she didn't understand why she would need to scream. But when Alister positioned himself and leaned down to offer a different kind of pleasure, she stiffened. A soft kiss turned into a lingering caress, and then his tongue swept over her. Elaina gasped, her back arching. She had never felt anything like this-she never knew a touch could be so devastatingly powerful.
"Aah!"
Her voice was heavy. She tried to pull him closer, but his hands held her thighs firmly apart. A storm of emotions hit her-pure desire mixed with a desperate need to be seen. She didn't care about anything else anymore; she was ready to give Alister every part of her.
She sighed and moaned, her body slick with sweat and the evidence of her own rising passion. When Alister finally lifted his head, she was breathless. Her vision was swimming, her body limp from the sheer intensity of the climax.
"You're so warm," Alister whispered, wiping his lips with the back of his hand.
Elaina smiled weakly, reaching up to stroke his face. "You're... you're very good at that. My heart won't stop racing."
"Did you enjoy it?"
"Very much. But now... I'm so sleepy."
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7.4
Four years ago, to protect the man I loved from losing his billionaire empire, I drugged his drink, told him I only used him for his money, and vanished.
Now, at a high-society gala, Callum Wyatt is back. He isn't just a CEO anymore; he's a ruthless predator, and the second his eyes lock onto me, I know I am his prey.
When my wealthy half-sister publicly humiliated me, calling me the cheap bastard child of a homewrecker, Callum stepped out of the shadows. He nearly snapped her wrist in half and declared to New York's elite that anyone who touched me would be dismantled.
In the back of his Maybach, he pinned my arms above my head, his eyes burning with psychotic obsession.
"If you run again, Aubrey, I will burn your entire world to the ground just to keep you."
My heart bled. I had spent four grueling years tearing myself apart to keep him out of my messy, blood-soaked revenge against the family that watched my mother die.
But his terrifying protection only made my biological father's family target me harder, using their massive capital to buy out my movie set and crush my acting career.
They thought I would cower.
But as I walked onto the soundstage, facing the heiress trying to steal my role, I took off my sunglasses. I wasn't running anymore; it was time to make them pay.
7.7
Rory stood on the witness stand, forced by her father into an impossible choice: secure her dying mother's medical funding, or save her innocent boyfriend.
She looked Corbin right in his trusting eyes and lied to the court, testifying that he was the one driving the car during the fatal hit-and-run, sending him to a maximum-security prison for ten years.
The betrayal destroyed him. Corbin's father died of a heart attack upon hearing the guilty verdict. Six years later, Corbin returned as a ruthless billionaire and systematically blacklisted Rory from every job in the city. He cornered her into singing at his private club, humiliating her by forcing her to drink scotch—knowing she was severely allergic—and making her throw away his promise ring just to earn a stack of cash.
"Remember this moment. This is only the beginning."
She endured his cruel revenge because she was hiding a desperate secret: she was raising his five-year-old daughter, Willa. But when Willa's congenital heart defect suddenly worsened, requiring an impossible one-million-dollar surgery, Rory realized Corbin's calculated blockade had left her completely trapped with no way to save their child.
Staring at the sterile hospital walls, the last shred of her guilt burned away, replaced by a cold, hard resolve. He had destroyed her career and backed her into a corner, but he was the only one with the money. Wiping her tears, Rory turned and headed straight for Vance Tower.
7.5
I was Nyx, a top-tier covert operative. But when I opened my eyes, I was trapped in the unfamiliar, overweight body of a bullied girl named Eliza.
Before I could even process the body swap, the bedroom door splintered open. I was in bed with Julian Malone, a wealthy military heir, both of us heavily drugged. Cameras flashed wildly. It was a vicious setup to ruin his career, and I was the bait.
To save his family's reputation, Julian was forced to marry me. But the moment the wedding was over, he abandoned me. His elite family treated me like a disease. His mother froze my only bank account, trying to starve me into submission.
I even intercepted a private conversation between his parents.
"Once she's in a private facility, she loses all legal standing. We can sign anything we want on her behalf."
They planned to lock me up in a mental asylum and erase my existence entirely to get rid of the "trailer park trash."
To them, I was just a weak, pathetic pawn they could crush without a second thought. They thought they had backed a helpless girl into a corner.
They had no idea they had just declared war on a lethal weapon.
I didn't cry or beg. Instead, I bypassed their state-of-the-art security, cracked their safe, and stole the financial secrets that could destroy their entire empire.
"I want five hundred thousand dollars, or these files go to the IRS."
This time, I was playing by my own rules.
9.1
The best way to get back at a cheating bastard? Make him sick to his stomach for the rest of his life!
Days before her wedding, Corinne caught her fiancé cheating with his coworker in what she thought was their future home.
Furious, she tore everything apart, ended the engagement, and decided on a bold revenge plan.
To make him regret it for life, she set her sights on marrying his powerful uncle. Confident in her scheme, she tried to win over the cold, untouchable man, only to realize too late that she had mistaken his identity.
The man she married was far more dangerous than she imagined!
Corinne decided to make a quick escape. "Let's get a divorce. We're clearly not right for each other... "
He cornered her with a knowing smile, "Not right for each other? Funny, that's not what you said last night in bed. Want me to remind you how wrong you are?"
9.3
Are you tired of every hockey romance turning into pure erotica by chapter ten?
We are going back to basics.
This is about the tension. The secrets. The stolen glances across a crowded campus, the brush of a bare hand in a freezing ice rink, and the dangerous boy who would burn the world down just to keep her safe.
Caroline Reed is invisible by choice. As a pre-law student fighting to maintain a flawless 4.50 GPA, she hides in the shadows of the university athletics department. She analyzes sports compliance data just to keep her scholarship intact. Her life is perfectly ordered and perfectly safe.
Leo Kincaid is the untouchable hockey captain. He is ruthless on the ice and completely guarded off it. Everyone thinks he is just another arrogant, golden boy athlete.
But the numbers do not lie. When Caroline reviews the latest game footage, she finds a terrifying statistical pattern. Leo is intentionally taking penalties and throwing specific plays.
When she confronts him in the dead of night at the empty arena, she expects a confession of greed. Instead, she uncovers a dangerous underground betting ring that is blackmailing him. By speaking up, Caroline has just put a massive target on her own back.
Now, the only way Leo can protect her is to pull her directly into his spotlight. He forces her into his daily life under the guise of needing a personal academic manager. Suddenly, the invisible girl is everywhere he is. He watches her constantly. He fiercely dictates who she talks to. And in the quiet, frozen moments between the chaos, Caroline begins to realize that the brutal captain is the safest place she could ever be.
7.6
My baby daughter died in the cold hospital, and I agreed to donate her heart to save another pup. I brought her ashes home in a small wooden box, seeking comfort from my mate.
But when I returned to the packhouse, I found a massive celebration. My Alpha mate wasn't away on patrol; he was throwing a grand Naming Ceremony for his sister's newborn. He didn't even know our daughter was dead.
"Give Lyra the gift. Now."
He impatiently demanded I hand over the box in my arms. When his sister's son tried to snatch it, I pushed him away to protect my baby's ashes. His sister immediately screamed, accusing me of trying to hurt her children out of jealousy.
Without asking a single question, my mate grabbed my wrist, ready to smash the box to teach me a lesson. To save my daughter's remains, I had to drop to the floor, bare my neck in ultimate submission, and lie that it was just my late father's relics.
He was disgusted by my tears. Later, when I tried to jump off the balcony to end my pain, he pulled me back—not out of love, but because my suicide would ruin his perfect party. He locked me in my room and ordered the maids to force me into a bright red dress for the evening feast.
Looking at the red silk that mocked my bleeding heart, my despair finally died, replaced by a cold, venomous hatred. I tucked a white funeral flower into my hair and walked out the door. This time, I was going to turn their joyous celebration into a living hell.