FUCKED BY THE FAKE PRIEST
Pose for the portrait, Anna," her uncle said.
Anna was an instrument used by her uncle for wealth. Her beauty sold, but it still couldn't buy her freedom. Feeling nobody would ever come for her, she grew helpless-until he came in a disguise. She felt him instantly, and her innocence was claimed by him. She finds herself wanting him more every day.
Who is he?
What will her uncle do when he finds out?
Will he be her savior... or become her worst nightmare?
Find out in FUCKED BY THE FAKE PRIEST.
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Chapter 3
"I don't get you, bro. Carlos asked. The goddess in this portrait is the girl in your dream? Really?" The taxi halted to a stop. Carden reached into his pocket, pulled out a few bills, and handed them to the driver. They stepped out and walked into their apartment. Carden was still smiling, and Carlos continued questioning him all the way to their room, but Carden said nothing-just smiled like a man possessed. Inside their room. "Come on, man, say something," Carlos finally insisted. "Yes, she is," Carden said, turning to him. "Do you think I'd spend a hundred thousand dollars on a painting without a good reason?" His eyes drifted back to the portrait immediately. The painting showed a girl in a white nightgown standing beside a window, as if waiting for someone-waiting for a savior. Her room looked luxurious, yet she seemed pale and unhappy, even though her skin glowed like moonlight touching the sea. "The moment I saw the portrait, I remembered the dreams," Carden continued. "It shocked me. She's real. She looks exactly like the woman who's been haunting my sleep. A goddess... trapped. I didn't pay that money just for the painting. I did it because I need information about her. And from what the gallery man said, she's a lady in distress." Carlos sighed heavily. "Well, it's your money. I believe you know what you're doing. At least now you won't be dealing with those nightmares anymore. Whatever you decide, bro, I'm here to support you." Carden smiled. "Thanks, man. Really." "You're welcome. But how do you plan to reach her? What's the next move?" Carlos asked. Carden exhaled. "I don't know. The owner of this lady seems powerful. Dangerous. According to the gallery guy, he has men everywhere." "Did he tell you where the man lives?" Carlos asked. "Yes. A mansion in the heart of Sicily. He lives there with her. The place is heavily guarded. He doesn't let her near anyone. And if a man touches her, he calls a priest to pray for her. He thinks her innocence is the reason her portraits sell for so much. He kills anyone who gets close-even someone who picks a flower from his garden. The only person he fears is the priest." "Hmm... this man sounds scary. Trust me," Carlos muttered. "He is. But I need to know what this lady wants... why she keeps invading my dreams," Carden said firmly. "You're right. And you said the only person he fears is a priest?" Carlos asked slowly. "Yeah..." Carden said, looking at him. Then his eyes widened. "No. No way. Don't say it." "That's the only way you can get close to her," Carlos replied with a straight face. "You have to pretend to be a priest. Otherwise, you'll have to sneak in-and that's suicide. I don't want to lose you." Carden stared at the portrait, deep in thought. Then he turned back. "You're right... So how do I become the priest that visits the mansion?" "Leave that to me," Carlos smirked. "But first, you need to learn how to act like a priest without blowing your cover." "I love you, man," Carden said gratefully. "You're welcome," Carlos replied, grinning. "Let me get us something to drink. We need to celebrate, because soon you'll be Father Carden." He joked as he walked to the mini-bar to pour some whiskey. Carden laughed. "Soon," he said, holding the portrait like it was the most precious thing in the world. Later That Night – The Dream Carden saw the woman again-standing miles away, reaching out to him. "Come quickly... come get me," her voice echoed, faint but urgent. He tried to speak, but he couldn't hear his own voice. She drifted farther away. "You're close now... please come," she whispered. He reached for her, but she kept slipping from his grasp. He gasped and opened his eyes. "Another dream..." he whispered, still lying on the bed. "Now I know I'm close. I have her portrait." He turned to look at it hanging beside his bed. "Hold on, stranger... I'm coming," he said softly, before closing his eyes again. In the Mansion A girl sat on a stool facing a mirror, slowly combing her curly hair. Her skin was pale and glowing, her lips red like strawberries. Her blue eyes stared back at her reflection-perfect face, perfect figure. Her portraits hung everywhere in the room. Luxury surrounded her, but she looked anything but happy. "Anna," a man's voice called. She turned to look at him. "The priest is here. You shouldn't have let him hold your hands. I told you to stay away from Mr. Douglas, and now you let him touch you. You need the priest to pray for you, You look unclean to me". She turned toward him crying,"I don't want to be here. Let me go back to my parents. At least it was peaceful there..." "Anna, don't be ungrateful, this beauty of yours is not meant for the countryside," the tall man said, walking toward her slowly. His hair was white, and everything about him screamed wealth and authority. He held a cold silver walking stick. His face hardened. "Don't be ungrateful, dear. Uncle knows what's best for you, at least you are helping your parents to live a better life," he said calmly, but his eyes carried warning. "Don't keep the priest waiting my dear." Anna stood reluctantly, tears welling in her eyes. "Okay, Uncle Arnold..." "And clean your eyes," he added sharply. "Not a word of this to anyone. Not even the priest. Or your parents will pay with their lives." She nodded quickly and walked out, wiping her tears. Arnold stayed behind, staring at his reflection with pride and cruelty. "No one disobeys me," he murmured, smiling wickedly.
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9.7
Amy has enough problems.
She's the new girl at Fieldman High, still grieving her parents, living with a brother who resents her existence, and now working at a coffee shop just to get by. The last thing she needs is Leo Calloway charming, infuriating, and the most performative person she has ever met - proposing that she pretend to be his girlfriend to make his cheating ex jealous.
She says yes anyway. Because she's tired of being the girl things happen to. Because Michelle has made her a target. And because the arrangement comes with protection she didn't know she needed.
What she doesn't agree to is falling for him.
But somewhere between the fake smiles and the real conversations, between kitchen tables and difficult truths and Leo showing up every single time it counts, the line between pretend and real becomes impossible to find.
And as Amy's carefully kept secrets begin to surface secrets darker, and more dangerous than anyone around her knows, she discovers that the boy who is her archenemy might be the only person she trusts with all of it.
And that the coffee shop she walked into looking for a job might have given her something she has been missing her whole life.
Some things, it turns out, find you exactly when they're supposed to.
9.0
Ashlyn was supposed to be just a fragile college student, selling her rare blood to a vicious crime syndicate enforcer to keep his dying sister alive.
But the dynamic shattered when Alex returned from a two-month disappearance. He stepped into the penthouse covered in dirt and blood, sporting a horrific, jagged knife wound slashed completely across his face.
Knowing exactly how to exploit his insecurities, Ashlyn played the role of the terrified victim to perfection. She screamed, pushed against his chest, and called him a terrifying monster. Humiliated and enraged by her blatant disgust, Alex violently smashed a marble table and kicked her out. He forced her out into a freezing, torrential rainstorm without a coat, vowing to kill her if she ever showed her face again.
What the ruthless enforcer didn't know was that her pathetic, trembling tears were a flawless, calculated lie. She wasn't a helpless, greedy girl. She was a cold-blooded corporate mastermind hiding from a family of elite assassins. She desperately needed his impenetrable penthouse fortress to stay alive, and she knew the only way to secure her place wasn't to ask for it, but to make him beg for her return.
Three days later, his sister's organs began to fail, and the hospital's blood bank ran dry.
"I'll pay you whatever you want. Just get here."
Listening to the desperate, broken voice of the monster over her burner phone, Ashlyn smiled coldly in the dark. The trap had snapped shut, and he had just handed her all the power.
9.3
They say you can't have it all. I'm about to prove them wrong-or destroy myself trying.
When my struggling mother married billionaire Richard Stone, I thought I was gaining a family. Instead, I found three stepbrothers who became my obsession, my downfall, and my salvation.
Dominic, the eldest, cold and commanding, who kisses me like he's claiming his kingdom and looks at me like I'm the only thing he can't control.
Julian, the charming playboy who hides a vulnerable soul beneath his perfect smile, making me feel like I'm the only woman he's ever truly seen.
Asher, the brooding artist who paints me like I'm his muse and touches me like I'm his masterpiece, seeing parts of my soul I didn't know existed.
They're forbidden. They're dangerous. They're everything I shouldn't want.
But when I discover my father didn't die by suicide that he was murdered by the very man who now calls himself my stepfather, these three powerful men becomes my unlikely allies.
First it was a forbidden attraction, now it's an arrangement that defies every rule.
The rules are simple:
I'll give each of them a chance.
I'll take everything they offer.
And in the end, I'll have to make the hardest decision of my life:
Choose one of them. Choose all of them. Or choose myself.
8.2
Being second best had always been my place. My sister had the love, the attention,
the praise. Even now, she had the past. Rhys Granger was my fiancé after she
vanished. A billionaire. My parents pushed me into the engagement, and I accepted
it. I had wanted him for years.
I thought this was my turn to be chosen. I was wrong. One night, he slapped me. All
because of my sister's mug. Got angry and went to the club to cool my head down.
Tall, dangerous, unfairly hot. The kind of man who makes you want to sin just by
existing. It was reckless, It was stupid, It was completely ill-advised. But it was also
the Best. Sex. Of. My. Life. And, as it turned out, the best decision I'd ever made.
Because my one-night stand isn't just some random guy. He's richer than Rhys, more
powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be
playing with.
And now, he's not letting me go
7.1
Warning: R18+
His pierced cock thrust deep, the metal barbell dragging along my G-spot with every relentless stroke, sending shockwaves that made me scream his name. I came again hard, squirting around him while he growled "mine" and filled me bare, hot pulses claiming every inch inside me.
Thirty minutes earlier I'd been drowning in heartbreak and gin at a Mayfair club.
Now I was unraveling in a billionaire's penthouse, owned by a stranger whose name I still didn't know.
One forbidden night.
No names. No promises.
Or so I thought.
One reckless night with a stranger ignites a billionaire's obsession.
Elara thought it was over at dawn.
Damian Blackwood doesn't let go.
When her world crumbles, he offers salvation-with strings: Become his contract wife.
One forbidden night becomes a lifetime of possession...
9.5
The night I ran, I left everything behind.
My dead fiancé's ghost. His brother's cold hands reaching for me. A father who won't meet my eyes because he's already sold me to the highest bidder.
I thought I was escaping.
Then a stranger pulled me from the darkness, and I learned what real danger looks like.
Damon moves like he owns the world. Talks like every word matters. Looks at me like I'm the only woman who ever made him feel something. He says he's the son the Kings family erased, the bastard they tried to bury. He says Evan loved me-really loved me-and that's why I should trust him.
He wants me to sign a contract. One year as his wife. One year to help him destroy the family that destroyed us both. One year pretending to belong to a man who makes my heart race and my skin burn every time he's close.
But the closer we get, the more I feel him keeping secrets.
He touches me like I'm fragile. Looks away when I ask about Evan. Holds the truth behind his teeth like it might cut us both.
And the whole time, I'm falling.
Falling into his warmth. His danger. His impossible kindness that feels too real to be fake.
But if I've learned anything from the Kings, it's this: the men who save you are always the ones who need you most.
And the ones who need you?
They're the ones who hurt you in the end.
Evan knew something the night he died. Something about my father. Something about the deal that would make the Kings the most powerful people in the country.
Damon knows too.
And the only way he'll tell me?
Is if I say yes.
Say yes to the contract. Say yes to the marriage. Say yes to the fire building between us that feels less like pretending every single day.
But when I finally learn the truth-about Evan, about my father, about the empire that wants us both dead-
Will the man holding me survive what comes next?
And more terrifying:
Will I survive loving him?