
Flash Marriage To My Disabled Commander
Six years ago, my adoptive family framed me for commercial espionage, stripped me of my identity, and threw me out. Now, I finally returned to the Solis estate as a commercial pilot to take back what was mine.
But the first thing my adoptive mother did was threaten me with that forged evidence again. She demanded I take my sister Kiana's place in a marriage contract with a disabled man, simply because Kiana refused to marry him.
When I refused, Kiana ambushed me at the airport with a mob of reporters. She cried for the cameras, publicly accusing me of causing our father's and brother's deaths. She painted me as a ruthless monster who bankrupted the company and ruined the family. The crowd instantly turned on me, screaming that I was a murderer and a gold-digger. Kiana wanted to completely destroy my reputation so I would have no choice but to submit to her arrangement.
I looked at her fake tears, feeling a cold, absolute fury. How dare she use the tragic deaths of the only family members who actually loved me as a prop for her sick show? They had ruined my life once, and now they wanted to bury me alive.
I didn't hesitate. I slapped her hard across the face right in front of the flashing cameras.
"That was for my father and brother."
Then, my real fiancé, a decorated Delta Force commander, rolled through the crowd in his wheelchair. He tossed a classified Pentagon file to the reporters, completely clearing my name and exposing Kiana's lies. I married him to start my revenge, but as I stepped into his heavily secured penthouse that night, I realized my powerful new husband had been preparing for me for a very long time.
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Chapter 3
The plastic chair was hard and cold against Elianna's back. She shifted, her new black jeans stiff, the tags cut off a simple grey sweater only an hour ago. The New York City Marriage Bureau was a study in bureaucratic misery. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a sickly green pallor on the couples waiting in the rows of chairs.
Elianna checked her watch. 3:15 PM.
The man she was supposed to meet, the elusive Baldwin Armstrong, was nowhere to be seen. The room was full of nervous excitement, tearful joy, and resigned duty, but none of it belonged to her. She was just another transaction in a room full of them.
She pulled out the burner phone Nexus had provided and dialed the number for Armstrong. It rang once, twice, then went to voicemail. No greeting. No identification. Just a generic automated voice.
A knot of frustration tightened in her chest. Her plan was precise. It was meticulous. It depended on variables lining up perfectly. If Armstrong was a no-show, the whole thing collapsed. Without a marriage license, she was still a ghost. Still vulnerable. Still deportable.
"God, Ricky, you're so cheap!"
The shrill voice cut through the low hum of the room. Elianna looked up. Two seats down, a young woman with pink streaks in her hair was glaring at a nervous-looking guy in an ill-fitting suit.
"I told you, Heidi, I can't afford a ring right now," the guy, Ricky, stammered. "The rent is due, and my car-"
"It's always something with you!" Heidi crossed her arms, her face twisted in anger. "You don't care about me! You don't care about this marriage at all!"
Elianna looked away, trying to block them out. She needed to think. She needed a contingency. If Armstrong didn't show, she'd have to find another way. A work visa? Too slow. Asylum? Too public.
"What are you looking at?"
Elianna realized she had accidentally made eye contact with Heidi. The girl's anger had found a new target.
"Nothing," Elianna said, her voice flat.
"You've been sitting here alone for an hour," Heidi sneered, looking Elianna up and down. "Did your guy stand you up? Figures. You look like a block of ice. Who'd want to marry that?"
Ricky grabbed Heidi's arm. "Heidi, come on. Leave her alone. Let's just go."
"No!" Heidi pulled away, leaning toward Elianna. "I hate bitches like you. Acting all high and mighty when you're just pathetic."
Elianna slowly raised her eyes to meet Heidi's. She didn't move a muscle. She didn't raise her voice. "If you don't shut your mouth, I'll sew it shut for you."
The words were spoken softly, almost gently, but the menace behind them was absolute. It was the tone of someone who had seen real violence and wasn't afraid of it.
Heidi's eyes widened. The color drained from her face. She shrank back, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. She stumbled backward, nearly tripping over her own feet.
Ricky mumbled a quick, "Sorry, sorry," and dragged Heidi toward the exit. The door swung shut behind them, leaving a heavy silence in their wake.
Elianna exhaled. The petty distraction was over, but so was her patience. She stood up. Plan B was dead. It was time to improvise.
Just as she slung her purse over her shoulder, the burner phone buzzed in her hand. She looked down. A text from Nexus.
"Situation changed. Target spotted at JFK Airport, Terminal 4. Kiana Solis is also present. Move immediately."
Elianna's blood ran cold. Kiana. Here. With Armstrong. It couldn't be a coincidence. It was a trap. Or a complication. Either way, it was a threat.
She didn't hesitate. She moved through the rows of chairs, her pace quick and purposeful. She burst through the heavy doors of the bureau and stepped out onto the sidewalk. The noise of the city hit her-horns honking, sirens wailing, people shouting.
She spotted a yellow cab pulling away from the curb. She sprinted for it, cutting off a businessman who was reaching for the handle.
"Hey!" he yelled.
"Emergency," she snapped, yanking the door open and sliding inside. She slammed the door shut. "JFK. Terminal 4. Step on it."
The cabby, a large guy with a thick accent, looked at her in the mirror, saw the look in her eyes, and decided not to argue. He pulled out into traffic with a screech of tires.
Elianna leaned her head back against the seat. The city blurred past the window. She had been so sure she was in control. She had the documents. She had the leverage. But now, Kiana was in the mix, and her carefully laid plan was falling apart.
Was Nexus compromised? Was Armstrong playing her? Or was Kiana just being Kiana, sticking her nose where it didn't belong?
It didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was getting to that airport. She couldn't let Kiana Solis ruin the first move of her comeback. She wouldn't let it happen. She stared out the windshield, her jaw set, as the car crawled through the congested streets toward the airport.
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8.0
"IS IT TRUE?" Grayson's voice thundered through the room.
"Yes!" Tessa said softly. "Yes it is!"
"So you've been cheating on me, haven't you?" He spat.
Her hands trembled. "No, I swear, it's not like that."
He grabbed her arm, his grip bruising her wrist as she squealed in pain.
"Then whose baby are you carrying, huh?" His voice was ice cold.
Tessa shivered, tears blurring her vision.
"I don't know."
**********
Pregnant with the powerful Roman Blackwood's child, while engaged to his unstable stepbrother - Tessa Quinn becomes the key to a ruthless inheritance war where love has no place.
As secrets unravel and danger closes in, Tessa must protect her unborn child while trapped between love, vengeance, and men who want to own her fate.

7.1
The last thing I remembered was the blinding flash of my starship crashing. But instead of a rescue crew, I woke up tied to a wooden post, surrounded by hostile beastmen.
My universal translator kicked in just in time to hear their priestess, Chelsea, declare that I was a cursed demon who ruined their hunt. To save the clan from winter starvation, I was to be burned alive.
The flames were already blistering my legs, and jagged stones hurled by the crowd gashed my forehead. I barely negotiated a three-day reprieve to find them food, venturing into the deadly primeval forest.
I found a massive supply of wild potatoes and even gained the protection of Bronson, a terrifyingly powerful saber-toothed tiger beastman.
But Chelsea wouldn't stop.
She labeled my food as poisonous, tried to sentence me to starve in a penitent's cave, and when my agricultural knowledge proved her wrong, she invoked an ancient law. She incited the tribe's savage warriors to fight over me, turning me into breeding property.
I was a scientist offering them endless food, yet their primitive ignorance and one woman's vicious jealousy kept pushing me toward a brutal end. I was terrified, completely powerless against their monstrous physical strength.
As five ruthless challengers drew their bone axes to claim me, I begged Bronson to leave me and run.
Instead, he pulled me against his scarred chest and kissed me fiercely in front of the entire clan.
"She is my mate," he roared, unleashing a soul-crushing aura. "Anyone who wants her, come at me together."

9.6
Areli was the hardest-working medic in the Blackridge Clan, but her efforts only earned her the title of a useless burden.
Her supposed lover, Eugene, and her senior mentor, Gloria, lured her to the edge of the deadly Blackwind Cliff and shoved her straight into the abyss.
She miraculously survived the freefall, only to return and find Gloria standing before the entire clan, wearing a mask of fake sorrow.
"Look! The traitor is back! She eloped with wild males!" Gloria shrieked.
Eugene stepped up, looking heartbroken, and publicly accused her of betraying his love.
The crowd erupted, raining hisses and boos upon her, completely ignoring the horrific, life-threatening bruises that covered her battered body.
They blindly believed the lies, treating her like garbage while Gloria secretly plotted to poison her water and destroy her completely.
Areli felt a chilling sense of betrayal. How could the man who claimed to love her watch her fall with such cold eyes?
To make matters worse, her modern biochemist instincts revealed a terrifying truth: she was unexpectedly pregnant with the child of a savage Warlord she had encountered in the wild.
In this brutal, primitive world, showing any weakness was an absolute death sentence.
But she wasn't going to cower or run away.
Refusing the Warlord's offer to simply rescue her, Areli calmly placed a highly toxic herb on her drying rack and left her tent flap open.
The bait was set. Now, she just had to wait for the screams.

9.4
Michael Carter is an undercover FBI agent on a mission to take down ruthless mafia king Fernando Ramírez-the man he believes killed his sister. But getting close to Fernando means playing a dangerous game, one where seduction and power blur the lines between enemy and lover.
When Michael uncovers a shocking truth, his thirst for revenge turns into a fight for something far more dangerous-his own heart. Now, torn between duty and desire, he must decide: destroy the man he swore to take down or surrender to the one thing he never saw coming.
Love has never been more lethal.

9.0
The biopsy report slid across the cold metal desk, stamped with a brutal death sentence: advanced gastric cancer. Aretha had exactly ninety days left to live.
It was her twenty-sixth birthday, but her phone only rang with a furious call from her husband, Anders.
"Do you have any idea how much of a joke you made this family look like today? Post a public apology to Kelli right now."
He had completely forgotten her birthday, only caring that she skipped her adopted sister's yacht party.
When Aretha dragged her failing body back to the family estate, her biological mother slapped her across the face just for looking pale and embarrassing them in front of guests.
Seeing Aretha wasn't submitting to the usual abuse, Kelli deliberately threw herself down the stairs, playing the innocent, depressed victim.
Anders rushed in and shoved Aretha brutally against the wall to protect Kelli, while her biological father delivered his ultimate threat.
"I am freezing your trust fund. Get on your knees and apologize to Kelli right now, or you won't see another dime."
A massive, suffocating sense of absurdity washed over Aretha. She had spent six years lowering her head and begging for their approval, only to be treated like a disposable placeholder. Why should she spend her final days enduring this agonizing torture for people who didn't even care if she breathed?
Aretha wiped the blood from her chin and laughed. She publicly severed all ties with her family, whipped the signed divorce papers directly at Anders's face, and walked out into the freezing storm—ready to fight for her own life.

9.3
WARNING!! THIS STORY CONTAINS A LOT OF MATURE THEMES, ELEMENTS OF HARDCORE BDSM, PRAISE KINKS, SLUT-SHAMING KINKS, AND DEGRADATION KINKS. READ WITH CAUTION.
(BOOK ONE OF THE DELUCA KINGS SERIES)
Serena would do anything to uncover the death of her parents, including sleeping with the most dangerous man in New York, Nero DeLuca. And he knows this, so he strings her along so he can see how far she's willing to go.
***
"Get on your knees," Nero said.
"Excuse me-"
"You're my submissive, and you exist for the sole purpose of my pleasure. I don't tolerate defiance. When I say get on your knees, you get on your knees."
"Yes," I replied as I got on my knees, hating how much his commanding tone turned me on.
He put his finger under my chin and lifted it so I could look at him.
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good girl. Now get on the bed and show me that beautiful cunt. I want to see what it looks like before I destroy it with my cock. Tonight, the whole of New York will know you belong to me. I'll not take anything less than you screaming my name, and by the time I'm done with you, you'll feel me between your legs for a week."