From His Captive Doll To The World's Unstoppable Queen
Everyone in Manhattan envied me for being married to Julian Sterling, the "Saint of Wall Street." After a tragic accident ended my ballet career, he was the ultimate devoted husband, carrying me when I couldn't walk and managing my "mental episodes" with saintly patience.
But inside our fifty-million-dollar penthouse, my savior was actually my jailer. I started losing time and forgetting entire days, while Julian insisted my "trauma" was making me lose my mind, forcing me to take heavy sedatives he personally prepared.
The horror peaked when I discovered my disability was a lie; Julian had been paying my surgeon to inject neurotoxins into my ankle just to keep me dependent. He used deepfakes to convince the world I was psychotic, all while secretly harvesting my eggs to create an heir I never knew existed.
I spent years mourning the life he stole, wondering how the man who once took a bullet for me could be the same monster who watched my bones shatter with a smile.
Finding my stolen son being used as a pawn in his sick legacy was the final straw.
Julian thought he broke my wings, but he only taught me how to hunt.
He stole my life, my body, and my child.
Now, I'm coming to take them all back.
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Chapter 7
Sienna climbed back through the clinic window with three minutes to spare. She was wet, shivering, and her ankle was throbbing with a dull, sickening rhythm.
When she got home, Julian was waiting in the foyer.
"You're wet," he observed.
"It was raining between the car and the door," she lied.
"Boris said he dropped you right in front."
"There was a puddle. I stepped in it."
Julian stared at her. The silence stretched, elastic and tense. He walked over to her and knelt down. He unlaced her left shoe. He took her foot in his hands. His fingers probed the swollen joint.
"You walked on it," he said quietly. "More than usual."
"The therapist made me try a new treadmill routine."
Julian looked up. His eyes were flat. "I'll have to call the clinic and tell them to be gentler. They are hurting my wife."
"No!" Sienna said too quickly. "No, Julian, it's good pain. It means it's working."
He stood up, towering over her. "There is no such thing as good pain, Sienna. Pain is a warning. You should listen to it."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small orange bottle. "Dr. Evans and I spoke. The blue pills aren't effective enough against this level of agitation. He prescribed something new. Stronger. To help you sleep through the discomfort."
He shook two pills into his hand. They were red. A violent, warning-sign red.
"Open," he said.
Sienna looked at the red pills. Do not eat anything he prepares personally, Nate had said. But if she refused, he would know. He would know she was resisting.
She opened her mouth. Julian placed the pills on her tongue. He handed her a glass of water from the hall table.
She took a sip, threw her head back, and swallowed.
Or pretended to. She tucked the pills into the pocket of her cheek, praying they wouldn't dissolve before she could get to the bathroom.
"Good girl," Julian said. He kissed her nose. "Dinner is in an hour. I made your favorite. Risotto."
As soon as he turned his back, Sienna rushed to the guest powder room. She spat the half-dissolved red pills into the toilet and flushed. She rinsed her mouth out, staring at her reflection. Her eyes looked wild.
She wasn't a ballerina anymore. She was a spy in her own life.
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8.7
I arrived at the hotel with Julian's favorite takeout, ready to surprise my fiancé before our big merger. But the moment I swiped the keycard, the silence of the hallway felt heavy and wrong.
Inside, a red-soled stiletto lay on the marble floor-the same one I'd watched my best friend Lila try on at Saks last week. Through the cracked bedroom door, I watched Julian's back arch as Lila looked me straight in the eye and smiled, wrapping her legs tighter around him to mock my heartbreak.
I fled to the penthouse to hide, only to find Grafton, Julian's "crippled" brother, waiting in the dark. To my horror, the man who was supposed to be paralyzed stood up from his wheelchair, gripped my chin with cold fingers, and forced me to sign a contract that gave him control of my family's shares. He knew about my mother's secret medical bills and used them to buy my silence, effectively turning my life into a calculated game of corporate chess.
The betrayal tasted like acid, and the injustice of it all burned in my throat. My fiancé was a liar, my best friend was a thief, and the man now controlling my fate was a predator who had been faking his disability for years.
I couldn't understand how everyone I trusted had turned out to be a monster. I was trapped between a man who cheated on me and a man who wanted to own me, with no way out and no one to turn to.
But when Julian came looking for me, Grafton didn't hide; he stood tall, looming over me with a possessive glint in his eyes. "Help me destroy Julian," I rasped, realizing that to survive the Faulkner men, I had to become the most dangerous player of them all.
8.7
I make my living binding monsters to their promises. But Silas Malphas is the one monster I never should have touched.
As a Thread-Binder, I can see the glowing, invisible strings of loyalty, debt, and lies connecting everyone in the city's supernatural underworld. It makes me the ultimate contract lawyer-and the perfect infiltrator.
My mission is simple: secure a job in the inner circle of the House of Malphas, the city's most ruthless monster syndicate, and steal the Primal Ledger from their lethal heir.
Silas Malphas commands the shadows themselves. He is arrogant, dominant, and terrifyingly elegant. But the most dangerous thing about him isn't his power-it's that when I look at him, I see *nothing*. He is a void in the magical spectrum. No debts. No loyalties. He is completely unreadable.
I was supposed to betray him. But as I am dragged deeper into his golden cage of high-stakes negotiations and blood-soaked boardroom politics, the lines between my mission and my dark attraction to the Beast begin to blur.
When a rival faction launches a deadly coup and my cover is blown, I am left with a terrifying choice. To survive the night, I must forge a blood-oath contract with the very monster I was sent to destroy.
I'm no longer just his lawyer. I'm bound to the Beast.
8.6
Amara's life has always been predictable-until the shadows start watching her. Footsteps follow her on empty streets, strange chills scrape down her spine, and something ancient tracks her every move from the dark.
Everything changes the night a terrifying wolf-like creature lunges out of the darkness and leaves her fighting for her life. Just when all hope slips away, a mysterious man steps in-sleek, powerful, and gone before she can speak his name.
Haunted by the memory of his golden eyes, Amara begins to unravel a truth she never imagined. A creature in the night. A man in the shadows. A bond that defies logic. Her search for answers leads her to a hidden library and a forgotten article that exposes a world she was never meant to discover, one of magic, danger, and beings who walk between realms.
From the veil of the other world, Kael watches her. Her guardian. Her burden. The one fate bound to her long before she was born. And every day, the pull between them grows stronger... and harder for him to fight.
As enemies gather in both realms, Amara must face the darkness hunting her and the bond tying her to Kael. Because when shadow meets destiny, survival demands trust, courage,
and a heart willing to walk into the dark.
7.0
For six years, I was the obedient, pathetic girlfriend of Arron, the adopted heir to the terrifying Mayer empire.
But on the night of a major party, he abandoned me for another woman, leaving me humiliated and alone in a hotel penthouse.
While I was crying in the bathtub, a splitting headache suddenly unlocked a terrifying truth. I wasn't just a discarded girlfriend; I was living inside a scripted corporate thriller. I was the disposable side character destined to be crushed by the Mayer family, driven to despair, and drowned in the freezing Hudson River so Arron and his new love could have their happy ending.
My destined ending was nothing but a joke to them.
"When he gets bored and throws you out, you'll be worse than a stray dog."
Arron's cruel warning echoed in my mind, but the phantom feeling of freezing water closing over my head completely burned away my pathetic love for him. Why did I have to die just to be a stepping stone for the man who threw me away like trash?
I refused to be a tragic victim. Looking at the broken gold watch chain I had just ripped from the coat of Cassius Mayer—Arron's ruthless, untouchable billionaire father—a cold calculation took over. Since Arron wanted to ruin me, I was going to use the most feared man on Wall Street to tear their empire down from the inside.
9.1
Jessie Compton harbored a lethal, burning secret in her veins, forcing her to live as a ghost on the fringes of society.
When her volatile blood spiked to a boiling point, she fled into the woods and stumbled upon a dying billionaire, his veins turned to ice by a synthetic toxin.
To stop herself from literally combusting, she made a desperate gamble: she cut their wrists and mixed her fire-blood with his poisoned ice.
The insane transaction saved them both, but it unleashed an absolute nightmare.
Bryce Hogan woke up completely cured, but violently obsessed with the anomaly that had invaded his system.
He deployed a private army, thermal drones, and limitless wealth to hunt her down.
He tracked her across state lines, shattered her carefully built new identity, and cornered her in an underground Las Vegas black market.
"Find her! I want her found!"
His men ruthlessly closed in, leaving her battered, bleeding, and with a cracked rib as she barely escaped his terrifying pursuit.
With only three vials of inhibitor left to keep her body from catching fire, Jessie was exhausted and desperate.
She couldn't understand why the man she had saved was hunting her with such a predatory, suffocating intensity.
What exactly had her blood awakened in him, and why did he look at her with a chilling mix of absolute terror and dark obsession?
Sitting on a midnight bus heading into the desert, Jessie tightened her grip on her tactical knife.
She was finally out of places to hide, which meant the billionaire was about to find out exactly how dangerous a cornered ghost could be.
9.1
Eleonora woke up in the hospital, still feeling the terrifying weightlessness of her own suicide.
She realized her chilling nightmare was actually a prophecy: she was destined to be the tragic, disposable villain, while her adopted sister Addisyn was the beloved protagonist.
On the day of her discharge, her father abandoned her to celebrate Addisyn's eighteenth birthday.
When Eleonora dragged her recovering body back to her family estate, she found her biometric access wiped and her home turned into a chaotic nightclub.
Addisyn had taken over the master bedroom and was wearing Eleonora's late mother's priceless sapphire necklace.
When Eleonora coldly demanded her property back, Addisyn squeezed out fake tears and played the pitiful victim.
Instantly, Eleonora's childhood fiancé and lifelong friends stepped up to shield Addisyn.
They scolded Eleonora for being cruel and classless, demanding she sleep in the guest room so she wouldn't ruin the party.
Downstairs, the elite guests mocked her as a crazy, jealous freak who was bullying her sweet sister.
In her nightmare, their blind devotion to this manipulative parasite had driven Eleonora to jump off a skyscraper.
She was the sole legal heir to the Carlisle estate, yet they expected her to quietly hand over her home, her mother's legacy, and her life to a thief.
But Eleonora was no longer a victim.
She pulled out the irrevocable trust documents, proving her absolute ownership, and looked at her loyal butler.
"Cut the power," she ordered coldly. "Throw every single trespasser out the gates."