His Accidental Heiress
Elena's life has never been easy. She's 23, broke, and working long hours at a small café just to keep a roof over her head. Her best friend, Elizabeth, worries she'll work herself to death, so one night she drags Elena to a house party.
Elena doesn't like parties, but she goes anyway. That night changes everything.
Looking for the bathroom, she opens the wrong door and finds herself in the same room as a man-tall, handsome, and mysterious. They don't exchange names. They don't plan it. One thing leads to another, and they spend the night together.
By morning, he's gone. No note. No name. Just gone.
Elena tries to forget about it until weeks later, when she realizes she's pregnant. Panic hits her hard. She doesn't know the man's name. She doesn't have his number. She's broke and alone, but she decides to keep the baby and work harder.
Around this time, Elliott, Elena's boss, starts visiting the café often. He's friendly, supportive, and becomes her closest friend. She has no idea Elliott is connected to her mystery man.
When the café job can't cover her bills anymore, Elliott helps her find a better job as a secretary in a big company. She's relieved-until her first day on the job, when she sees him. Jaxon Thorn. The father of her baby.
Jaxon is shocked too. He feels betrayed that she didn't tell him sooner. She feels hurt that he left without a word. Things get even worse when Khloe-the woman desperate to marry Jaxon-steps in to destroy Elena.
One night turned their worlds upside down. Now, they have to face the truth: Can love really come from one mistake?
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Chapter 4
Elena's POV
"I'm sorry!" I gasp as soon as I walk in, but for some reason, I stay rooted to the spot, one hand covering my eyes and the door still open behind me. I hear his footsteps approach, and I seem to shrink into myself.
But he doesn't touch me. Instead, I hear the door close behind me. When I pull my hands away from my eyes, he is watching me with an amused expression, but somewhere in his eyes is a tinge of anger.
It is hard for me not to stare at his body, and I can't help it as my eyes roam through the broad shoulders, well-toned abs, properly structured body, and a lean waist. He has the makings of someone who takes his gym life seriously, and that is saying a lot.
The only thing I have been able to manage consistently is my daily job at Café Black.
"Done staring?" he teases, pulling away from me and heading further into the room.
His room.
"You live here?" I find myself asking before I can stop the words from tumbling out of my lips. I should be apologizing for coming in here and maybe explaining that I am searching for the bathroom.
Instead, my eyes follow him around the room, that dry feeling in my throat back in full force. At least, now I know it doesn't necessarily have anything to do with needing water.
"What are you doing here?" He leans on the edge of his bed and wraps his hand across his chest. "Are you done flirting and laughing with the man downstairs?"
He sounds angry.
"Why are you angry?"
"Who says I am?"
"Your tone. You dared me to do that, so you don't have a right to be...." My voice trails off when I realize this argument is all wrong. Whether he dared me or not, he still has no right to be angry with whoever I decide to talk to here at the party.
We didn't come together.
Hell, I didn't even know he existed until tonight.
He angles his head. "So?"
"So, what?"
"Did you kiss him?"
I nod. "It was your dare, and the alternative was standing on the table and dancing with my clothes off. I chose the best option. You and your friends need to do better."
He scoffs. "Who told you that? The lanky guy who kissed you?"
"His name is Elliot and he is a really nice person."
The gray-eyed man shakes his head slowly. "Don't be naïve. People aren't nice. They just pretend to be until they get what they want."
I shake my head. "You are just saying that because you have no bone of niceness in your body."
"I don't dispute that."
Arguing with him is pointless.
"I need to use the bathroom."
He points to the adjoining door, and I saunter in that direction, making sure to lock the door behind me while I do my business. I stare at my reflection in the mirror, the wide-eyed, flushed-faced girl staring back at me.
My phone beeps in my purse, and I retrieve it. It is Elizabeth. She says she will be gone longer than she expected, but I can hang around the house till morning. The guest, Jaden, doesn't bite.
I haven't even seen him all night.
Taking a deep breath, I wash my face and dry my hands. I still feel tipsy, but it doesn't cloud my judgment.
When I return to the room, I meet the gray-eyed man in the far corner, his hands on the spines of books on the shelf. My feet shuffle in his direction, even though I know I should head in the opposite direction.
"Tess of D'Urberville," I whisper. "Is that the first edition?"
He turns around to face me as my fingers graze the spine.
"Yes," he replies. "Just as every other thing in here is."
I look up at him, having the feeling that he is no longer talking about his books. His gaze has darkened as he regards me from underneath his lashes. He seems to be waiting for something.
He moves slightly, turning his body so that he is towering over me, and my back is pushed into the shelf. Just like Elliot, he brings a finger underneath my chin and gears my face up to look at him.
But while Elliot feels warm and kind, with this man, it feels like I have been set on fire. Every part of my skin cackles with the heat and ferocity of that single touch, and I find my eyes fluttering close on their own accord.
My body presses into his, and a groan slips from his lips. His other hand touches my neck gingerly, fitting underneath my hair.
"Why have you never had sex?" he whispers, his deep-set baritone travelling through my body in waves. I do not have to answer him, yet I want to.
"I have never found the person worth it," I reply, my heart thudding so hard against my chest that I am scared he will be able to hear it.
"There's nothing like a person worth it," he drawls, leaning impossibly closer to me. His warm breath caresses my face, and my lips part open. "You just decide whether you want to or not."
"Then, I guess I have never wanted to," I whisper. "Not until now."
That last bit seems to break whatever restraint he has, as his lips crash down on mine possessively. I gasp into his mouth, and he uses the opportunity to deepen the kiss. His tongue finds mine, and suddenly, I lose the ability to think.
My toes curl inwards as he cups the back of my neck, and the entirety of my being lets him have his way with me.
Because I want him to.
I bury my fingers in the strands of his thick black hair just as he picks me off the floor and walks with me to the bed. I lie back onto the soft sheets, and he comes in after me, his lips kissing every inch of my body like I am a literature text he is trying to remember every detail of.
Every piece of clothing comes off in a whisper, and I moan and thrash underneath him. And when we both lay naked, he whispers, "This should hurt a little," before plunging into me.
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7.8
The freezing rain lashed against my face as I clung to the iron gates of the Hendrix estate, begging for a chance to prove I didn't kill my best friend.
I had come here for mercy, but the man I had secretly loved for years had a different plan. He didn't want to hear my truth; he wanted to see me broken.
As the sun rose, the estate manager delivered the final blow. He shoved Emery’s phone into my face, showing a forged text message that framed me for her death, then turned his back as the gates slammed shut.
My own family didn't offer a lifeline, either. When the police came for me, my parents didn't fight for my innocence; they chose to disown me to save their bank accounts from Alfredo’s wrath.
I was thrown into Rikers Island, stripped of my dignity, and subjected to years of calculated, brutal torture paid for by the man who once held my heart.
How could the person I loved turn my life into a private slaughterhouse based on a lie?
After three years of hell, I walked out of those prison gates with nothing but a scarred body and a hollow soul. The woman who loved Alfredo Hendrix died in that cell. Now, I’m back in the city where it all began, and I’m done hiding.
7.4
My memory was gone, a blank slate wiped clean each day. I lived a life guided by Post-it notes-simple instructions that told me who I was, what to eat, and to be polite to visitors.
Then he came back. Jax, the man I supposedly abandoned for money seven years ago, was now a billionaire. He stood at my door with his new fiancée, his eyes burning with a hatred I couldn't place.
He forced me onto a humiliating reality show, turning my broken mind into a public spectacle. He tore down my notes, my only connection to myself, and let the world watch as I nearly drowned in a tank of ice water. When my brother tried to save me, he was arrested for assault.
To free my brother, I had to confess. I stood before the world and apologized for a betrayal I couldn't even remember, becoming the monster everyone believed me to be.
But as I spoke the lies he fed me, a single detail about a stolen necklace made his perfect world shatter. He finally saw the truth in my empty eyes. It was just seven years too late.
7.5
River Lockhart, the son of an infamous billionaire, gets a speeding ticket from the new police officer of the city, Officer Damian Reid.
"Trust me, officer. You don't want to do that."
"Why? Are you the Prime Minister's son?"
"What if I am?"
"It doesn't matter."
River is to follow his father, Mr Lockhart's footsteps in the future. It has been his dream to copy his father's image one day. But the timing is so wrong. He's interested in a guardian of the law, yet he is to become a devil against the law.
Can illegal shadows and emergency sirens mingle together? Is it a good match?
7.6
My husband vanished on our fifth anniversary, leaving me frantic with worry.
I thought something terrible had happened until a stranger named Jayda sent me a photo.
He wasn't missing; he was in a penthouse, flipping pancakes for her with a smile he hadn't shown me in years.
When I tracked them down, Bennett didn't apologize.
He shoved me away to protect his pregnant mistress, looking at me with pure disgust.
"You're a liability, Iris," he spat, cutting off my access to our bank accounts. "Stop being hysterical."
He laughed when I clutched my head in agony, claiming I was faking pain just to ruin his new happiness.
He didn't know my "headaches" weren't a plea for attention.
They were Stage IV Glioblastoma.
While he was buying her the diamond necklace I had always wanted, I was receiving a terminal diagnosis.
I looked at the man I sacrificed my entire career for and felt a cold, final resolve.
"Fine," I whispered, tossing the medical report in the trash where he wouldn't see it.
"Send the divorce papers. I'm done."
8.6
"Come on, Juliet... it's time to write a new story."
After years trapped in an abusive marriage, Juliet Pierce finally runs. Alone, with two children and a suitcase full of trauma, she leaves behind the luxury - and George Monroe, the man she once loved - in search of a new beginning.
The destination? Manhattan.
The plan? Just survive.
But everything changes on her first night working as a waitress at Paradise, an exclusive BDSM club where pleasure meets power. Afraid of being recognized, she wears a mask - a shield she desperately needs.
And that's where she crosses paths with Noah Blake: billionaire CEO, relentless Dominant, and co-owner of the club.
He sees her.
He wants her.
He has no idea who she really is... yet.
Days later, Juliet applies for a position as Noah's assistant. This time, she's not wearing a mask - and he starts putting the pieces together.
Juliet wants distance.
Noah wants to tame her.
"I do love a challenge," he says.
Juliet is everything he never expected: funny, bold, intense - fragile on the outside, but with eyes that reveal how untamed she truly is.
He wants her on her knees.
She wants to prove she can love without losing herself.
What begins as a dangerous arrangement becomes a quiet war between fear and desire, past and redemption.
But Juliet's past is closer than she thinks. And when it resurfaces to haunt her, she'll have to choose: surrender... or fight for herself - and maybe, for the love of a man who swore he would never love.
"It was in that moment I realized I was about to discover:
Whether this would be a nightmare...
or the best experience of my life."
7.9
Erin woke up in her luxurious Fifth Avenue penthouse, three days after returning from the cold, sterile psychiatric hospital where her husband had locked her away.
On the night of their third anniversary, Crockett Winters came home smelling of his mistress's perfume, expecting his docile wife to serve him.
Instead of playing the obedient fool, Erin calmly exposed the million-dollar diamonds he had just bought for his lover.
Furious at her sudden defiance, Crockett tried to physically intimidate her, pinning her against a wall to reassert his dominance.
When his aggression failed, he threw a brutal divorce agreement on the table.
"Sign it, and you walk away with nothing. You can't survive without me, and you know it."
He sneered, convinced the ironclad prenup would terrify her. He thought her rebellion was just a pathetic, jealous tantrum, a desperate play for his attention while he continued to pamper his mistress.
He truly believed she was just a beautiful canary who would eventually crawl back to her gilded cage in tears.
But Erin didn't cry, and she didn't sign the papers.
Instead, she locked him out of the master suite and pulled out his unlimited Centurion card.
In a single night, she calmly spent ninety million dollars of his money to buy up prime real estate and hidden assets, taking the first step to build an empire that would completely destroy him.