Deadly Game With My Husband's Brothers
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?
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Chapter 3
~~PEYTON~~
I'm in trouble, but that doesn't mean I'll shiver in fear all because of one mysterious stranger and his chilling laugh.
Nah.
"Come on," I say a bit defensively. "I'm offering you payment since sorry doesn't soothe you."
He stops laughing, yanks out the phone pouch, takes out the SIM card, and tosses the phone back to the ground. All the while, his eyes remain fixed on mine with an unreadable intensity, a weight that makes me feel rooted to the spot.
"How about you fix everything by drying me up?" he says finally.
My eyebrows raise, but I don't say anything; I'm done with all this shit. He's clearly out of his mind.
As I attempt to leave again, he abruptly rips my purse from my grip.
My breath hitches, my fingers spasming in the empty air. Before I can react, he turns and strides toward a velvet couch nestled close to the edge of the crowded dance floor.
"What the..." I turn, speechless.
The audacity...
I have no choice but to follow.
"You piece of shit! I need my purse back!" I scream, my voice barely cutting through the pulsating beat of the music. "Hey!"
I storm over to him, breathless.
He sits leaning back on the couch and pats his thigh; my purse hangs tantalizingly over his neck.
"Be a good girl and clean up the mess you've made."
I fumble for words; no one has ever made me speechless two times in a row.
I point a trembling finger to my temple.
"Are you..." I rasp, my word bank feeling empty, like what word can I scrape out to describe how crazy he sounds and how stupid and provoking he is?
"Are you out of your mind?!" I spit.
Words suddenly tumble out in a rush. "What do you think I am? A lap dancer!-"
"And what do you think I am? A wet pant?" he shoots back. "Get it over with and get your purse back."
I puff out a breath in frustration, and the worst part is there's one tiny voice in my head replaying my vow from a few hours ago.
I want to sin, and it says 'just sin; this is an opportunity,' like seriously.
I roll my eyes at the thought. This is no good way to sin.
I snap back to reality and take a long, deep breath.
"How about I pay for a lap dance, as many as you want?" I suggest.
He tilts his head, a smile curling up his lips. He scans me from top to bottom; every inch of me is under surveillance.
Then just like that, he sits up straighter, rubbing his chin, eyes narrowing.
"That's smart; you really are what they say you are."
"Excuse me," I frown.
That came out of nowhere. Is he on drugs or something? Nah, I don't think so; he's too calm but sounds more dangerous than a drug addict. His smirk is creepy. In fact, everything about him screams run.
Anyway, I shrug it off. "What do you say?"
He shrugs and leans back. "KK."
I sigh in relief.
"-but..." he added, unhooking my purse from his neck. "Only if you sit here with me and watch me get all the lap dances I want."
What the hell.
Before I can speak, he stretches out my purse. "Deal?"
I pause, thinking.
Fuck it, what choice do I have? Even if I try to play it smart, I can't snatch the purse from him without getting bitten back.
"Fine." I reach out for my purse, but he pulls it back, patting on the couch. "You'll get your purse when my pants are all dried up."
I just wrinkle my brow and slump beside him.
He leans close, eyes fixed on a few girls already coming our way.
"Which one would you like?"
I raise a brow. "Do you really have to ask me that?"
"The faster you cooperate, the quicker you get your purse." He whispers; the space between us suddenly feels too small.
I point towards any of the girls my finger touches. "The brunette, and yeah, you can have the other one with the big tits." I smile at him. "Satisfied?"
The ladies, barely in anything, stride toward us, heels clinking, hips swaying, and before I know it, the two ladies I chose are all over him like they've got super hearing or something.
One is at his back, fingers caressing his shoulders, too slow, yet somehow making massaging look so sensual.
The other one straddles him, her tits pressing against his chest, her face on his neck, whispering sweet nothings I don't want to hear.
She grinds on him, but he doesn't seem to be enjoying it very much. And that's when I notice-his eyes are on me.
I was too focused on the girls to realize quickly.
But then he taps on the girl's hand, the one who's massaging.
"Be at her service; she'll pay double."
Heat floods my cheeks. "What? I don't need a lap dance!" It came out too fast, but the girl is making her move, now in front of me. I don't miss the smirk on his face.
He's enjoying this, isn't he?
The girl was already on the blow job, and damn-looking at her... it feels so weird. Her ass is in my face... no, she didn't sit on my thigh, but damn... I can't... I can't take this.
My stomach churned. This wasn't the rebellious act I'd envisioned; it was just... icky.
I could see the faint sheen of sweat on her skin under the club lights, the strands of hair escaping her messy updo.
The rhythmic movements, so intimate and directed elsewhere, felt out of place with her backside as my primary view. It wasn't titillating; it was suffocating, a bizarre and unwanted intimacy that made my skin crawl.
I shoot up from the couch. "Are your pants not dry yet?" I snap, my heartbeat a mess.
He doesn't answer.
Fuck him then.
I grab my purse before he can react, dip my hand in, and pull out some cash.
I hand it over to the girls, trying to sound nice. "You were lovely tonight; thank you for your service, it was great."
I smile.
They take it and nod, turning to Mr. Big Bad Boy and blowing a kiss.
He remains silent.
I think that is my cue to run now.
I turn, ready to make a beeline to the exit, but a pair of arms grabs me, yanking me back. I stagger, my butt hitting something hard.
My body stiffens.
My thigh twitches. A jolt shoots through me, and I know he feels it too.
His hand wraps around my waist, lips so close to my neck, his breath fanning my earlobe.
My heart slams against my chest and I swallow; my throat suddenly goes dry.
The sudden closeness was just too much for me to bear, so I had to hold my breath... and freeze, waiting. For what reason I do not know, but a thought flashes through my mind before I can stop it.
It's been ages since I last felt a dick on me.
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8.2
In her previous life, Eliana took the fall for her adopted sister Iris and lost everything, even being forced into a marriage where her work was stolen to build another man's empire.
Meanwhile, her sister's "perfect" marriage ended in tragedy-her husband turned out disabled and died young.
Reborn, the sisters swapped their fates, Iris claiming the handsome man for herself while Eliana marrying the allegedly sick billionaire.
Eliana only smiled-she knew the truth behind her marriage in the previous life. This time, she chose a different path, bringing her brilliance into the light while using marriage as a mere tool.
Yet the man she married stood firmly by her side, saying, "With me behind you, no one will dare touch you."
8.3
He laid me on the sheets, climbed over me, caged me with his arms. "Last chance to run," he said, voice low."I need the money," I whispered, feeling so tiny in his arms."You're soaking," he muttered. "Virgin or not, your pussy wants this."I moaned, looking away, couldn't help it,"Eyes on me, sweetheart," he pushed his tip in slowly."Fuck," he groaned. "So tight."He fucked me like he was claiming something. "Come for me," he whispered in my ears, moving faster."Damien," I cried out his name as I came."That's it," he growled. After a long minute he pulled out slowly. "One night," he said again, almost like a reminder....weeks later, I walked through the quiet hall of my school. A massive portrait stared back at me.Damien BlackwoodPrincipal Benefactor and OwnerColumbia University.Same man who'd just taken my virginity for money. My stomach dropped. "Oh fuck... what have I done?"
9.6
HIS Minnie Mouse
9.6
When Claire agrees to play her cold-hearted boss's girlfriend for a weekend, she never expects a fake romance to turn into a nine-month marriage contract worth millions. She becomes trapped in the world of the ultra wealthy and her abusive ex resurfaces to blackmail her with millions. She also falls in love with her cold-hearted boss, leading to an affair that gets her pregnant. But the reason for the contract marriage is no longer necessary. What happens now that Claire has no reason to stay married to her cold boss?
8.1
Aria once believed in forever-until her husband Zane Callahan shattered her world with a divorce that felt like a death sentence.
Broken, betrayed, and bleeding from the loss of their unborn child, she disappeared into the shadows and rebuilt herself as a one-week wife-for-hire.
No strings. No scars. No emotions.
Until Kane Callahan walked in.
He needed a bride to inherit his dying father's empire. She needed one more contract before vanishing again. But one thing neither expected? The tangled past that bound them-because Kane is Zane's estranged brother.
Aria swore she would never love again.
Kane swore he would never forgive.
But secrets don't stay buried. And neither do hearts that never truly stopped beating.
By Monday, the contract ends.
By Monday, someone will break!
By Monday, a love built on lies might just be the only truth worth saving.
7.9
For five years, April Gamble loved Julian Travis with everything she had, trusting him completely.
But on a stormy night, he casually tossed a liquidation agreement at her feet, single-handedly destroying her grandfather's company.
He coldly admitted he only dated her to steal Vance Group's internal financial data.
"You were convenient," Julian said, swirling his whiskey without a shred of guilt.
Before April could even process the brutal betrayal, a breaking news alert lit up her phone.
She watched in absolute horror as her grandfather jumped from the ledge of the Vance Tower on live television.
Julian looked at her writhing, screaming form with utter boredom and simply ordered his bodyguard to throw her out.
Blinded by grief and tears, April sped into the torrential rain, only to be completely crushed by a hydroplaning transport truck at an intersection.
As the shattered glass tore into her skin and the metal crushed her ribs, she died with a hatred so pure it made her teeth ache.
Why did five years of devotion mean absolutely nothing to him? Why did her family have to die just to feed his ruthless greed?
When she opened her eyes again, the harsh hospital lights blinded her, but the familiar burn scar on her arm was gone.
She wasn't the betrayed financial analyst April Gamble anymore.
She had woken up in the body of Altagracia Blanchard, the most notorious, obscenely wealthy heiress in New York.
Julian had taken everything from her, but now, armed with a billionaire's empire, she was going to bury him.
7.7
I am blind, but the darkness in my marriage was far worse than my lost vision.
When my brother’s kidneys failed, I needed two hundred thousand dollars to save his life within forty-eight hours.
But that same day, my wealthy husband’s mother and his childhood sweetheart, Kassidy, framed me for pushing the old woman down a flight of marble stairs.
"Pack your trash and get out of my house."
Chase didn't listen to my desperate pleas. He kicked me out without a single cent and demanded an immediate divorce.
Driven to a dead end, I was tricked by Kassidy into signing a high-end escort contract and given a spiked drink.
Drugged and terrified, I stumbled into Chase at a hotel.
Seeing the transaction Kassidy had orchestrated, he believed I was actually selling my body for the surgery money.
In a fit of possessive rage, he brutally took me, leaving me battered with a check on the nightstand the next morning as the ultimate insult.
But the nightmare didn't end there.
When I finally borrowed the money and rushed to the hospital, I found out Kassidy had already paid the bill anonymously, taking my brother's life hostage.
She even found my torn clothes from that night, twisting the truth to convince Chase's family that I was a manipulative whore who deserved to die.
I lost my dignity, my marriage, and my freedom to a web of perfectly orchestrated lies.
Why did the man I loved always choose to believe their flawless acts over my real tears?
Clutching his broken black onyx cufflink in my bleeding palm, my despair finally died, leaving only a cold, burning resolve.