Contract With A Monster: The Heiress's Revenge
It was my birthday, but instead of celebrating, I was bleeding on the floor of my own bedroom. My sister Serena had just smashed a champagne bottle over my legs, her eyes filled with a dark madness because our father allowed me to wear the family diamonds.
To escape her, I bolted into a pitch-black guest suite, only to be grabbed by a man who felt like a wall of solid muscle. He was drugged, unstable, and pinned me against the wall, his teeth sinking into my neck in a primal claim that left a permanent mark.
I managed to flee, but the nightmare was just beginning. My father didn't care about my injuries; he only cared that I had "insulted" the man in that room—Delos French, the most powerful CEO in New York. He threatened to stop paying for my mother’s critical care facility unless I went to Delos and begged for his forgiveness.
My brother Julian was even worse, intentionally pouring scalding coffee over my bandaged wounds just to see me flinch. They forced me into a revealing gold dress, treating me like a high-priced commodity to be sold to the highest bidder to save their failing company.
I didn't understand how the people who were supposed to love me could be more predatory than the monster in the dark. I had spent my life fixing their scandals, yet they were ready to throw me to the wolves the moment I became useful as a pawn.
But when I stood before Delos French at his gala, he didn't see a trophy. He recognized my scent, my touch, and the fire in my eyes. He trapped me in his private lounge, kneeling to clean the blood from my injured feet.
"Marry me," he whispered, his voice a low, terrifying growl. "And I will give you the power to burn your family to the ground."
I looked into the eyes of the man who had hunted me and realized he was the only one offering me a weapon to destroy the people who had broken me.
"Okay," I whispered.
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Chapter 3
The next morning, the sun over Manhattan was bright and unforgiving.
In the penthouse office of French Media, Delos stood by the floor-to-ceiling window. He looked immaculate in a charcoal suit, but the shadows under his eyes told a different story. His mind was a steel trap, replaying the gaps in his memory, the humiliation of being drugged in another man's home. The attack on Harmon Holdings wasn't just business now. It was retribution.
"The security footage was corrupted," Marcus reported, standing at attention. "Someone wiped the servers at the Harmon estate between 11 PM and 1 AM. Professionally. We have no visual on who entered your room."
Delos turned. His expression was a mask of cold indifference. He tossed the diamond butterfly onto his glass desk. It spun, a dizzying blur of light.
"They set me up," Delos said. "Richard Harmon invites me to his home, and suddenly I'm dosed with a hallucinogen and a woman is in my room. It's a honey trap."
"We can't prove it, sir."
"I don't need proof to punish them." Delos sat down. "The bid for the Starfall Bay project. Move the deadline up by forty-eight hours."
Marcus blinked. "That's... aggressive. Most firms won't be ready."
"Exactly," Delos said. "Burn them."
At the Harmon estate, the atmosphere was poisonous.
Eve limped into the dining room. She wore a high-collared cashmere sweater despite the warm weather. The bite mark on her neck had bloomed into an ugly, dark bruise.
Julian was already eating, picking at a plate of eggs. He watched her walk in, his eyes tracking her movement like a vulture.
"Rough night?" Julian asked.
"I fell in the garden," Eve lied. She took her seat, keeping her eyes on the tablecloth.
Julian stood up. He walked behind her chair. Eve stiffened, her muscles locking up. He leaned down, his nose hovering inches from her hair.
He inhaled deeply.
"You smell different," Julian whispered. "Like you took a bath in cheap soap to wash something off. But underneath it... there's something else. Something expensive. Scotch, maybe."
Eve's heart hammered against her ribs. "It's from the guests. Someone hugged me."
"Who?" Julian pressed, his hand resting on the back of her neck. His thumb brushed the collar of her sweater.
The door slammed open.
Richard Harmon stormed in, his face a mottled red. He threw a tablet onto the table. It slid across the wood and crashed into the milk pitcher.
"He moved the deadline!" Richard roared. "Delos French moved the deadline! We have two days!"
"It's a power move," Julian said, stepping away from Eve. "He's testing us."
"He's trying to bury us!" Richard turned on Eve. "And you. You're useless. You and that ridiculous 'crisis communications' firm of yours. All you do is manage scandals, and now we're in one!"
"I can help," Eve said quietly. "I know the legal framework for the bid better than anyone."
"You're a publicist, Eve, not a lawyer," Richard spat. "You spin stories. You're an expense."
"I passed the bar exam two years ago, Father," she replied, her voice dangerously low. "You just refused to acknowledge it."
Richard ignored her. He looked at Julian. "Fix this. Or neither of you gets a dime from the trust this month."
The butler, Alfred, entered with a silver tray. "A courier just arrived, sir. From French Media."
Richard snatched the envelope. He ripped it open.
Eve watched his eyes scan the paper. He paled.
"What is it?" Julian asked.
"It's a notice of breach of hospitality," Richard whispered. "He knows something happened last night."
Eve gripped her fork until her knuckles turned white. She stared at the signature at the bottom of the letter. Delos French. The loops of the letters were sharp, aggressive.
She realized with a jolt of pure terror that the man who wanted to destroy her family was the same man whose blood she had drawn. And he was coming for them.
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7.3
Laura Brooks thought she was just an ordinary woman working a normal job-until one reckless night with a stranger changed everything.
Damien Blackwood isn't just dangerously handsome-he's the ruthless Alpha of the most feared werewolf pack in the region. For ten years, he ruled with violence and strength, but the moment he saw Laura, a human, he knew the truth: she was his mate. His Luna. His obsession.
Terrified, Laura tried to run. But fate was cruel. Caught between two rival Alphas-Damien, who would burn the world to keep her, and Kael, who wanted her as a weapon to destroy him-Laura was dragged into a world of blood, betrayal, and war.
Laura's fate is sealed in violence. To save her life and their unborn child, Damien makes the one choice that changes everything: he turns her.
Now Laura is no longer just human. She is Alpha's mate. She is Luna. And the world will learn why no one steals from Damien Blackwood.
7.7
I was driving through a rainstorm in upstate New York, pushing my old Volvo to the limit just to pick up a Dior gown for my wife, Catarina. She needed it for a gala tonight, where she planned to spend the evening standing next to the man she actually loved, Atticus Deleon.
The truck hit me head-on, crossing the center line and sending my car rolling down an embankment in a shriek of twisted metal and shattered glass. As the steering column crushed my chest, my brain didn't see a white light; it was pried open by a digital tsunami, flooding my mind with the "Quantum Archive"-billions of data points on surgery, high-frequency trading, and combat.
I woke up in the ICU with three broken ribs and a concussion, but the only thing waiting for me was a screaming voicemail from my wife's assistant.
"Jorden, where the hell are you? Catarina has been waiting for thirty minutes! You are so incompetent it's actually impressive."
There was no "Are you okay?" or "Are you alive?"-only fury over a ruined dress and a missing tie. While I was being resuscitated, my wife was on Instagram, singing "Endless Love" with Atticus and laughing at my "tantrum." She even called the family lawyer to freeze my credit cards, wanting to make sure I couldn't even buy a coffee without her permission.
For three years, I had been the "useful husband," the doormat who apologized whenever she stepped on my toes. But the accident had overwritten my desperation with cold, hard logic, and I realized I had almost died for a woman who viewed me as a liability with a negative return on investment.
When Catarina finally stormed into my hospital room to demand an apology for ruining her night, I didn't look at her with the usual puppy-dog eyes. I looked at her with ice in my veins and handed her a manila envelope I had drafted myself.
"Sign the divorce papers, Ms. Evans. I'm done being your canary."
7.5
"Let's play a game."
"What game?"
"One that involves you not screaming."
★★★★★
I'd been the perfect girlfriend to my star hockey player for two years.
Stood in the rain at his practices. Drove hours just to watch him warm benches. Wore his jersey like it meant something.
And he repaid me by fucking his way through half of Chicago-including the sister of the one man he's been obsessed with for years.
Zane Mercer.
The NHL's most dangerous player. My stepfather's worst enemy. And the man who looked at me like I was something worth destroying the world for.
One impossible offer.
One desperate bet.
One night that changed everything.
Zane doesn't do fake. He doesn't do half measures.
When he tells me I'm his for two months, he means it. In every way that matters.
But Zane has secrets buried so deep they connect to my family's past in ways I never imagined. Dark secrets. Deadly ones.
What starts as a transaction turns into obsession.
What starts as revenge turns into something I can't walk away from.
And what starts as a lie might be the only truth that matters.
They say some men are too dangerous to love.
They're right.
But I was never good at following warnings.
★★★★★
This book contains explicit sexual content, dominant/possessive behavior, morally gray characters, family conflict, and themes that may be triggering. Intended for mature readers 18+.
This isn't your normal hockey romance. It's dark, raw, and unrelenting-where obsession, desire, and power collide, and nothing is off-limits.
9.0
19 years ago, Bethany Delaney was forced to flee the pack in the middle of the night. The Blood Moon attacked the Blue Crescent pack, and her family was murdered in cold blood by the Ruthless and Fearless Alpha Dominic.
3 years later, the revenge comes.
Alpha Dominic Rayleigh is a Ruthless, Fearless Alpha, known and feared by all for his strength and power. He hates the moon goddess for making too many laws for the werewolves, and he swore to kill any girl that the moon goddess gives to him as a mate.
What happens when she finds out that she is his mate that he has sworn to kill?
8.4
Arlene was the illegitimate daughter of the wealthy Boone family, treated worse than a stray dog. To keep her meager scholarship, she had to swallow her pride and apologize to the frat boy who tormented her.
But he didn't just want an apology. He forced her to drink twenty shots of liquor laced with pure capsaicin extract.
"Drink us under the table, or take off your clothes and crawl out."
Arlene drank until her stomach tore, vomiting blood and collapsing on the filthy club floor.
When she dragged her half-dead body back to the Boone estate, her biological father and half-sister didn't care. Instead, her sister ground Arlene's SAT admission ticket into the dirt with her stiletto.
"Throw her out. Dad doesn't want to look at her before Hardie's engagement."
The guards threw her onto the gravel, leaving her bleeding and barefoot in the freezing night.
Arlene sat shivering at a dark bus stop, her dignity completely stripped away. She never wanted a dime from the Boones, so why did they insist on crushing her only way out? And why did Dr. Hardie Boone, the untouchable head of the family, look at her with such a twisted, terrifying obsession?
When Hardie's black Aston Martin pulled out of the shadows, he scooped her up, took her away, and locked her inside his penthouse.
"You carry the Boone name. Whether you live or die is my decision."
Trapped by the dangerous man who demanded total control over her life, Arlene finally realized that simply running away was no longer an option.
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.