From Ruined Wife To Tycoon's Obsession
Everly spent four years playing the perfect, accommodating wife to Carson Moss, swallowing every grievance just to secure medical treatments for their sick daughter.
But at a high-society banquet she exhausted herself organizing, Carson's pregnant mistress crashed the party.
The woman shoved an ultrasound of Carson's "real heir" directly into Everly's frail grandfather's face.
The shock triggered a massive heart attack.
Carson refused to use his private helicopter to save the dying old man, choosing to protect his mistress and his company's IPO instead. Her grandfather died on the hospital table.
Instead of remorse, her mother-in-law demanded Everly publicly cover up the murder.
"You will do exactly as I say, or I will freeze every single cent of the medical trust fund paying for your crippled daughter's treatments."
When a battered Everly returned to the estate, she discovered her three-year-old daughter covered in dark bruises and pinch marks. Her in-laws were deliberately torturing her disabled child.
Everly couldn't comprehend how a family could be so utterly heartless. Her only family was murdered, her child was abused, and her husband threw a five-million-dollar check at her face as hush money.
They thought she would just break and quietly disappear.
But when a terrifyingly powerful billionaire unexpectedly blocked Carson's security team from locking her up, Everly finally saw her window.
She grabbed her sleeping daughter and ran out into the freezing storm, making a blood-bound vow to make the entire Moss family bleed.
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Chapter 2
Carson Moss wore a sharply tailored Tom Ford suit. He didn't look at the crowd. He walked straight through the whispering guests, heading directly for the center of the conflict.
Everly watched her husband approach. A desperate flicker of hope ignited in her chest. She instinctively reached her hand out toward him, needing him to shield her, needing him to fix this.
Carson didn't even look at her. He walked right past her outstretched arm, grabbed Giana's wrist, and pulled her toward him.
Everly's hand hung frozen in the empty air. The sound of the socialites laughing behind their hands pierced her eardrums like physical needles.
"You shouldn't be here," Carson muttered to Giana.
His tone was low, but there was no anger in it. Only mild scolding.
Giana immediately leaned her weight against Carson's chest. She pouted, her voice dripping with fake innocence.
"The baby was kicking," she whined. "He wanted to hear the music."
Carson frowned. He turned his head and gave a sharp hand signal to the hotel manager.
"Clear the room," Carson ordered. "No photos. Confiscate any phones that are out."
A wave of dizziness hit Everly. The room spun. She lunged forward and grabbed the sleeve of Carson's suit jacket, her fingers digging into the expensive wool.
"Carson, please," she begged, her voice breaking. "Look at my grandfather. He can't breathe."
Carson looked down at her hand on his arm. He ripped his sleeve away from her grip with brutal force.
"Stop acting like a hysterical shrew," he hissed, his voice low enough that only the three of them could hear. "You're embarrassing me."
Behind them, Arthur gasped for air. He gripped the armrests of his wheelchair, his entire body shaking.
"Who..." Arthur wheezed, his vocal cords straining. "Who is that woman?"
Carson's face stiffened. He opened his mouth, ready to deliver a smooth, practiced PR lie.
But Giana moved faster. She ripped her wrist out of Carson's grip, stepped around the table in her high heels, and marched right up to Arthur's wheelchair.
Everly screamed and lunged to grab Giana's dress, but Carson's personal bodyguard stepped in, slamming his solid chest into Everly and blocking her path.
Giana leaned down. She shoved her face, painted with bright red lipstick, inches from Arthur's pale skin. She deliberately brushed her hair aside, exposing a dark purple hickey on her neck.
"Carson never loved Everly," Giana said, pronouncing every syllable with venomous clarity. "He thinks she's pathetic."
She reached into her bag and pulled out a folded piece of paper. It was an ultrasound printout from New York-Presbyterian Hospital. She shoved it violently into Arthur's trembling hands.
"I'm carrying the real Moss heir," Giana laughed, a sharp, grating sound. "It's a boy."
Arthur looked down. His eyes locked onto the name printed at the top of the medical scan. His eyes widened until the whites showed. A horrifying, wet gurgling sound erupted from his throat.
His face turned a deep, unnatural shade of purple. His hands clawed at the front of his shirt, tearing off a button. His body went rigid, and then he slid sideways, collapsing out of the wheelchair and hitting the floor with a heavy thud.
"Grandpa!" Everly let out a blood-curdling scream.
She shoved the bodyguard with all her might, throwing herself onto the floor beside Arthur.
Her hands shook uncontrollably as she ripped his bowtie off and tore his collar open.
"Call 911!" she screamed at the crowd. "Somebody call an ambulance!"
The ballroom descended into total chaos. Guests shoved each other to get back. Several people pulled out their phones, the camera flashes reflecting off the crystal chandeliers.
Carson saw the cameras. His eyes widened in panic. He didn't look at the dying old man on the floor.
"Get their phones!" Carson roared at his security team. "Confiscate everything! We IPO next week!"
Everly locked her hands together and pressed them hard against Arthur's chest. She pumped down, her tears falling in thick drops, splashing onto Arthur's graying face.
She turned her head, looking up at Carson with wild, desperate eyes.
"Use the helicopter!" she begged, her voice tearing her throat. "Your private chopper is on the roof! Fly him to the hospital now!"
Carson stared down at her. His eyes were completely dead.
"No," Carson said coldly. "The helicopter will draw too much press. We wait for the ambulance."
Giana hid behind Carson's broad back. She placed a hand over her stomach, pretending to look scared, but Everly saw the corners of her red lips pull up into a satisfied smirk.
The wail of sirens finally cut through the Manhattan night, growing louder until they echoed inside the ballroom.
Paramedics rushed through the doors, pushing a stretcher. They grabbed Everly by the shoulders and physically dragged her away from Arthur's body.
Everly fought them, crying and reaching out. She watched helplessly as they strapped her grandfather to the board.
She turned her head one last time. Carson was wrapping his suit jacket around Giana's shoulders, carefully guiding the uninjured woman toward the private VIP elevator, leaving Everly entirely alone.
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9.3
Marissa was the perfect wife. She traded her high powered corporate ladder for home cooked meals and a designer sanctuary, all to support her husband, Ethan.
But when Ethan confesses to a four month affair not out of guilt, but because his mistress is extorting him for $300 million...Marissa's world turns to ash.Ethan's solution is as twisted as his heart.
"Cheat back. Get even. Stay married."Driven by a cocktail of rage and Revenge, Marissa decides to take him up on his offer. She heads into the night looking for a single moment of rebellion to wash away the scent of Ethan's lies.
She finds it in the arms of a cold, devastatingly masked handsome stranger who makes her forget everything.Broken and fueled by the betrayal, Marissa decides to take the ultimate risk. She slips into an exclusive, members only masquerade club...a place where names don't exist and only desires matter.
Behind a lace mask, she meets him....a man who smells of expensive bourbon and cold command.He is the first person in years to see the fire in her, not just the wife she became.They share a night of scorched....earth passion that leaves Marissa breathless and "even." She leaves before the sun rises, intending for the stranger to remain a ghost of her revenge.
But some ghosts have a name.When the masks come off and the corporate world demands her return, Marissa comes face to face with the man from the club. He isn't just anyone. He is Xavier Sterling....the ruthless billionaire CEO she once worked for, and the man Ethan calls his "best friend."Xavier knows her scent. He knows her touch. And most dangerously, he knows exactly what Ethan did to her.
Now, Marissa has to navigate a world where her husband wants her to stay, the mistress wants her dead, and the CEO wants to own the one woman he was never supposed to touch.
Now, Marissa is caught in a lethal triangle. Xavier wants to own her, Ethan wants to keep her to save his reputation, and the $300 million debt is threatening to drown them all. In a world of billionaire power plays, Marissa is about to learn that revenge is a dish best served... in the CEO's bed.
9.8
When I woke up on the muddy bank of the freezing river, I unlocked a brutal, unfiltered preview of my actual future.
For the past six months, I had been the town's ultimate joke, chasing after a city boy who looked at me like a diseased insect. Everyone thought I jumped into the river because he rejected me.
But the nightmare didn't stop there. In the future I foresaw, my entire family was destroyed. My eldest brother was handcuffed and dragged into a squad car. My second brother died in a pool of blood on the asphalt. My parents passed away from sheer grief and humiliation, and our farm was foreclosed.
Meanwhile, Bart Hawkins—my family's sworn enemy, the boy everyone accused of pushing me, but who actually jumped in to save my life—became a billionaire tech mogul. I ended up starving to death in a damp, moldy basement, completely alone.
I finally understood that I was just a pathetic, tragic side character meant to drag my family into hell. My own sister-in-law, Felicie, had been stealing our food and money, laughing at my misery behind my back.
But right now, my mother was still alive, my brothers were safe, and the farm was ours.
When Felicie walked into my bedroom, playing the devoted sister-in-law with a bowl of clear, meatless broth while a stolen roasted chicken thigh leaked grease through her apron pocket, I didn't play along.
"What's in your pocket, Felicie?"
This time, I was going to tear that horrific future apart with my bare hands.
8.0
After years of a freezing, loveless marriage, my billionaire husband Israel finally threw me out to make room for his new lover, Ayla.
Before I even packed my bags, he ordered a crew to shred the Dogwood tree in our backyard and pour thick concrete into the crater, claiming it was a symbol of my infidelity.
He didn't know that buried beneath those roots was the urn containing the ashes of our unborn baby.
Stripped of everything, I tried to rebuild my shattered life by securing a supporting role in an indie film.
But Israel bought the entire production studio just to cast Ayla as the lead, demanding I act as her pathetic stepping stone.
When I refused, he cornered me on set with a sickening audio recording.
"We want one million dollars. This will ruin Karen forever."
It was my own parents. They had forged my medical records, planning to sell a story to the tabloids that I was a violent, delusional schizophrenic.
Israel smiled coldly, threatening to lock me in a padded room on an involuntary psychiatric hold unless I signed an unpaid contract to serve Ayla unconditionally.
My own flesh and blood had sold me out to a ruthless monster for cash.
Staring at the extortion contract, the last shred of desperation and love in my chest burned away into cold, gray ash.
To survive a monster, you have to become one.
I picked up his pen, violently signed my name, and prepared to rip his precious Ayla to shreds on camera.
9.0
Carli followed an anonymous text to a dark garage, only to find her fiancé of seven years tangled with another woman in his Porsche.
She smashed his window, threw her engagement ring at his face, and walked away.
But the betrayal didn't stop there. Her own family sided with the cheater. Her father slapped her across the face so hard she bled, demanding she hand over her late aunt's trust fund.
"If you don't do exactly as you're told tonight, I will freeze every credit card in your name," her father roared.
Forced to attend the exclusive Gutierrez family gala, Carli watched her ex-fiancé parade his cheap mistress to humiliate her, while her stepsister tried to publicly ruin her.
Suddenly, a violent screech echoed as the massive crystal chandelier above them snapped from the ceiling.
In a split second of pure instinct, Vaughn shoved his mistress to safety and threw himself to the ground, completely abandoning Carli to be crushed.
Staring up at the plummeting glass, Carli felt the crushing reality that her entire life had been surrounded by monsters.
But the fatal impact never came.
A massive force yanked her into a hard chest, shielding her body entirely from the explosive shrapnel.
Carli opened her eyes to find Fletcher Gutierrez—the ruthless billionaire king of Wall Street and the masked stranger from her reckless one-night stand—bleeding heavily over her.
Feeling his warm blood on her hands, Carli knew the game had just changed.
7.9
For five years, I was the invisible force behind my charismatic architect boyfriend's empire, painstakingly designing the dream home we built together.
But for the eighteenth time, Jayson canceled adding my name to the deed, rushing out on our candlelit dinner for yet another "critical emergency" with his young, attractive mentee, Ciera.
He left me alone at our custom dining table, blindly prioritizing her manufactured crises over our future. Hours later, Ciera posted a photo on Instagram. She was sitting in his executive chair, wearing his unbuttoned dress shirt, with two empty wine glasses on the desk. When I finally confronted him the next morning, he didn't apologize. Instead, he looked at me with arrogant amusement.
"Where are you going to go, Allison? Without me? Without this firm? Don't forget, I made you!"
My love didn't die in a sudden explosion; it bled out drop by drop over eighteen broken promises. I had poured my soul into his success, only to be treated like a disposable asset in my own home. To make the irony even more suffocating, a plastic stick in my bathroom soon revealed two stark red lines. I was pregnant with his child.
I didn't cry, and I certainly didn't use the baby to beg for his love. Instead, I packed a single suitcase, accepted a senior role at his biggest rival firm in London, and left a resignation letter on his desk. This time, I am building an empire of my own.
9.7
"This is not a game." As I wrapped my arm around her waist, I slipped my hand under her dress.
"What are you doing?" She froze, eyes like a deer caught in the headlights.
Kissing the back of her ear, I whispered, "Do you want me to take it out now?" I rubbed my finger against her pussy. As expected, she was soaking. A blaze of lust and need swept through me. My cock was hard, pressed against her ass. "You're drenched, my love. I know you enjoy it. Stop fighting it. Give in. Submit to your desire."
***
TARA
A family practice forces me to run away from home, leaving me disgraced and my family in shame.
Just when I start making new friends, someone threatens to expose who I am and the person behind my nom de plume. The condition- a contract marriage, the very same reason I fled from.
So, what's so different this time? Mad Shanewood- the achingly handsome, with waving red flags, an irrefutable passion, or a magnetic attraction?
With my secrets still haunting me, now the whole world is watching, and our delicately fragile public image is at stake.
After a glimpse beneath his shallow exterior, there is a damaged soul who makes me feel as if I'm everything to him.
And how is it that the one thing I never wanted has me fighting so hard to keep?
***
MAD
I always get the deal done until my recklessness has thrown the company into a tailspin, derailing my path to a billion-dollar project.
With my image under brutal public scrutiny, marriage is my last straw.
Tara Montimer not only intrigues me. She's selfless, kind-hearted, and sexy as hell. And something deep in her eyes makes me question if I'm worthy to be her husband.
For me, it seems that it's not just fixing my reputation anymore- the entrancing deposed princess didn't only steal my breath away. She penetrates the protective wall around my heart that I built for years.
Our goals may be aligned. But then there's a disapproving father who is a King, a law, and constant threats that prevent us from getting married.
Will this razor-thin edge arrangement be enough to fix what's been broken, or is something between us worth fighting for?