Deadly Game With My Husband's Brothers
7.8 / 10.0
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THIS IS A DARK ROMANCE FEATURING DARK CONTENT AND MORALLY AMBIGUOUS CHARACTERS.
Peyton has been in her marriage, enduring the pain of watching Odin, her husband, flirt and cheat in the guise of an open marriage-a decision he made without her agreement.
She hit a dead end when Odin broke the number one rule: bringing one of his flings to their home, their bed. That's when she made an impulsive decision-cheat and not feel guilty.
He wants her to get a boyfriend? No, she'd do him one better. One night, that's all it took, and the next day she finds herself tangled with her husband's brother.
Axel-He's a live wire, pure mischief and untamed. He doesn't just give Peyton what she's been starved of; he ignites a fire she didn't know she had, making her crave the wild freedom only he offers. With Axel, it's not just a fling; it's an explosion of everything forbidden.
Raphael-A little unhinged? More like a master of controlled chaos. He's the kind of man who sears himself into your soul, leaving an unforgettable mark deep in your memories. Raphael doesn't just flip a switch in your brain; he rewires it entirely, making you question every sane choice you've ever made.
Ready to dive deeper into Peyton's dangerous game?
Deadly Game With My Husband's Brothers Chapter 1
~~PEYTON~~
Tonight, I want to sin.
Like, really sin.
I wear a dress that screams "fuck me." Deep cleavage, loose hair black as the night itself. The fabric clings to my every curve, like a second skin barely covering my thigh.
I wouldn't even dare touch my toes.
I put my makeup skills to good use, creating dark eyeliner that's sharp and defined, like a wildcat on a mission.
I even dared to wear four-inch heels-the kind of sky-high torture devices I usually avoid.
But today it's time to step out of my comfort zone.
Enough is enough. I won't get the shorter end of the stick this time.
I slip out of the dressing room, the sound of moans low and sensual filling the air.
My ears are itching, my blood boiling. But I must get past the exasperating scene-like I always do.
I step into the master bedroom, but I still can't help but feel this way-as if a dagger went through my heart.
There is my so-called husband breaking the damn rules.
Bringing one of his flings into my bed. My fucking bed.
This one is a blonde with long, silky hair sprawled all over the sheets. Her hands wrap around Odin's neck, digging in. Her legs wrap around his waist like a goddamn pig.
My fists clench by my side, but I don't move an inch.
Odin's weight presses against her, his lips on her cleavage sucking on them as if they were the sweetest berries he had ever tasted, drawing out a soft gasp that mingles with the low growl rumbling in his chest. His fingers caress her thigh, going up and up.
I can't stand this.
I bite my lips, anger flaring in me.
God help me.
"Odin," I whisper, but it is loud-almost like a thunderclap.
Odin's head snaps, his eyes growing wide.
The blonde yelps, scrambling backward until her back hits the headboard. Her breath heaves like she ran a marathon; I bet that hurt.
Good.
"Jesus, Pey. What are you doing here?!" he barks, his brow furrowing like I was the one who broke the deal.
I raise my eyebrow, pointing to my chest. "What am I doing here?"
Odin runs his hand through his hair as he sits up. "So you were in there all along? I thought you were in the other room..." He trails off, his eyes wandering over me-my feet, my thigh, my hair, my face.
"Why are you dressed like that? You look like a ghost."
I smirk, tasting bile on my tongue.
A ghost that will haunt you in your dreams.
But not now; he can enjoy himself while he lasts.
Six hours-that's all it will take for me to gather myself to act like a normal human being, because if I act now, telling him he broke the rules...
I swear to God I might shove his face down the toilet and make him eat his shit.
"Pey..." Odin's eyes narrow, a little weary of my silence. Or he probably thinks I'm acting strange. He then sighs and gestures toward the door.
"Please don't ruin this night for me. If you can't answer a simple question, then show yourself out the door," he says, pulling on his collar, irritation creeping into his voice. "Be home by midnight and don't come in here when you get back."
My face scrunches, teeth clenching.
Oh yeah, when I get back.
"Yes, Odin, when I get back," I say, walking toward the door. Just a few steps away, I turn, my eyes narrowing as I catch sight of the key sitting on the bedside table.
I stretch out my hands. "My keys, please."
Odin glances at the key, then back at me. "Are you being serious right now?" he asks through gritted teeth, so his blonde won't catch it.
Oh well, she was looking, her gaze darting between both of us. Her legs were still parted, warming and ready.
Will she close that gutter?
My hand is still outstretched-no smile, my expression blank. "Give it to me... before we start pulling each other's hair. You wouldn't want your hooker to see it, do you?"
"Excuse me-", the blonde frown, her eyes darken like she would murder me just because I said the obvious.
Odin's jaw clenches, but he doesn't argue. He grabs the keys and tosses them over to me.
"When you get back-"
"Keep your paws off my stuff, you got your Lamborghini, I got mine. Next time I'll cut off one of your fingers," I cut him off, letting the key drop into my purse with a clang.
He wants to retort, but I don't let him. "See you at six AM."
With that, I turn and slam the door shut, more forcefully than necessary.
"Midnight. That's the deadline," Odin's voice echoes behind me, loud and infuriating.
Fuck him.
I don't move, still standing at the door, my back pressed against it, which is cold for no reason-perhaps I'm the cold one; the door's just leaching off me.
I look down at my dress, my skin-fair and smooth staring back at me.
I can't believe I'm doing this-no, scratch that. I can't believe I decided to do this. (I haven't done it yet.)
A few minutes earlier, when I heard the sound of the car screeching from his arrival, heels clinking, and hurried movements-like the whole villa was shaking. I didn't know what came over me. But I knew I had to do something different... so I wouldn't lose my sanity.
And here's the product of my irrationality, my impulsiveness:the dress, the shoes, the makeup.
Tonight, I'm going to cheat.
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Deadly Game With My Husband's Brothers 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
9.7
Her marriage is sexless, cold, and full of humiliation. She stays in the suck marriage to collect her billionaire husband's money for build her own business, and plan her freedom. While he rides his mistress in their bed many times, she quietly turns his wealth into her weapon.
Years later, the wife everyone mocked becomes the world's first female trillionaire. When her bankrupt ex-husband kneels before her, willing to lick her dirt just to have her back, she smiles from her bathtub filled with money and says, "Ex-husband, I'm going to marry the second richest man in the world."
7.8
Alexis signed the divorce papers, leaving her with no assets, no alimony, and just the clothes on her back.
To forget her abusive husband Carlos, she got drunk and bought a high-end gigolo for the night with her last 800 dollars.
But the man she slept with wasn't an escort. He was Jarrett Hughes, a ruthless billionaire CEO.
And while she was gone, her ex-husband was busy destroying her entire life.
Carlos framed her with fake photos of her cheating to justify the penniless divorce.
Then came the real nightmare.
Carlos and her own aunt secretly drained her family's corporate accounts, driving her father to jump off a building.
At the hospital, her grieving mother blamed her for the tragedy, violently attacking her in the ER.
To top it off, her cousin Josie—who was secretly sleeping with Carlos—held her father's ashes hostage.
"Crawl on your knees and pick it up, or the ashes go in the river," Josie sneered, throwing cash into the freezing slush.
Stripped of her marriage, her father, and her dignity, Alexis sat bleeding in the snow.
She couldn't understand why the people she loved most had coordinated such a brutal slaughter against her.
But Carlos and Josie made one fatal mistake.
They didn't know the "gigolo" Alexis had accidentally bought was the most powerful man in New York.
Alexis looked at the towering billionaire standing behind her, a vengeful fire burning in her eyes.
"I need you to get my father's ashes back," she said, pulling him into a kiss right in front of her ex-husband. "I don't care what it takes."
8.5
In His World
8.5
When Elena's parents die, leaving her drowning in debt, a contract marriage to billionaire Adrian Blackwell seems like salvation.
But Adrian's world holds dark secrets.
His first wife, Sophia, looked exactly like Elena. So did his father's first love, Grace. But both women died under mysterious circumstances.
And now Elena is living in Sophia's penthouse. Wearing Sophia's face. Playing Sophia's role.
As Elena uncovers twisted family obsessions, buried murders, and a decades-old genetic conspiracy, she realizes the truth: she wasn't chosen randomly. She was designed for this.
And the last woman who wore her face didn't survive.
Will Elena break the pattern-or become another ghost in Adrian's world?
8.6
For two years, I was trapped behind my own eyes, a prisoner in my own skull.
A crazed fan had hijacked my body after a brutal car crash, wearing my skin like a cheap suit.
When my soul finally locked back into my flesh in a cramped hospital room, I realized she had destroyed everything I built.
This parasitic stalker had drained my massive fortune to zero, buying luxury gifts for a mediocre actor and turning me into the internet's most hated woman.
My phone was flooded with death threats, and the hashtag demanding I go to hell was trending at number one.
Even the hospital nurses despised me. One marched into my room, raising her hand to violently slap my pale cheek.
"You psychotic bitch, you make me sick!"
Worse, my sprawling Beverly Hills estate had been foreclosed and sold to a mysterious billionaire named Kasey Dominguez.
I had absolutely nothing left. No money. No reputation. No home.
The sheer violation of watching a psychotic stranger ruin my life while I was locked in the passenger seat of my own mind made my blood boil.
I refused to let her destroy my legacy.
As the nurse's hand descended, my atrophied muscles snapped into action.
I twisted her wrist until the joint popped, grabbed the keys to my freedom, and slipped out into the cold Los Angeles night.
I was going to take my life back, starting with the billionaire who thought he owned my house.
9.0
I spent a year scrubbing floors in my fiancé’s club, hiding my identity as the daughter of the Capo dei Capi.
I needed to know if Connor Bishop was a King worth merging empires with, or just a puppet.
The answer came walking in wearing a neon pink dress.
Jaden Juarez, a civilian he was infatuated with, didn't just treat me like a servant; she deliberately poured scalding espresso over my hand because I refused to be her valet.
The pain was blinding, my skin blistering instantly.
I video-called Connor, showing him the burn, expecting him to enforce the code of our world.
Instead, seeing his investors watching, he panicked.
He chose to sacrifice me to save face.
"Get on your knees," he roared through the speaker. "Beg her pardon. Show her the respect she deserves."
He wanted the daughter of the most dangerous man on the East Coast to kneel to his mistress.
He thought he was showing strength.
He didn't realize he was looking at a woman who could burn his entire world to ash with a single phone call.
I didn't cry. I didn't beg.
I simply hung up the phone and locked the kitchen doors.
Then, I dialed the one number everyone in the underworld feared.
"Dad," I said, my voice cold as steel. "Code Black. Bring the papers."
"And send the wolves."
9.5
Ten years ago, a storm tore through Burke Manor and destroyed my life. I was just an eight-year-old orphan hiding in the shadows when a rotted balcony railing gave way, sending the heir to the Burke fortune plummeting to the pavement.
Before the ambulance even arrived, the lie was set in stone.
"She pushed him!" my rival screamed, and the world instantly branded me a murderer.
I was hauled away in a police cruiser, losing everything. A decade later, I was an eighteen-year-old mechanic in Queens, covered in grease and struggling to keep my Nana Rose alive.
But the past doesn't stay buried. Finn Burke returned in a black Maybach, looking like a predatory emperor. When Nana suffered a massive heart attack, the hospital demanded a deposit I couldn't pay, and Finn was there with a checkbook and a contract of "indebted servitude."
He bought my grandmother's life and, in exchange, he bought me. He dragged me back to the manor, locked a titanium GPS shackle around my wrist, and forced me to be his personal caretaker.
He wants me to manage his pain, to bathe him, and to look at his crippled legs every day as a reminder of the "sin" he says I committed. He calls me his property, a slave to a debt I can never repay.
But while massaging his legs, I felt something impossible—muscle tone and reactive tension that shouldn't exist after ten years of paralysis.
He thinks he’s broken me, but he’s forgotten one thing. I’m a mechanic; I know when someone is hiding what’s under the hood.
Finn Burke is lying about his legs, and I’m going to find out why, even if I have to burn this manor down to get the truth.
