Follow
Chapters
Share
His Regret: Rise Of The Boss Lady  Novel Cover

His Regret: Rise Of The Boss Lady

‼️ WARNING: Rated 18+ | Mature content What happens when a young, naive woman enters a world of guns, loyalty, and blood? She's underestimated. Used. Broken. But she returns with fire in her veins and a heart no one can control. Caught in a deadly web with three powerful men who would do anything for her, Megan is done being a pawn. Smart, witty, and ruthless, she's determined to climb the mafia ranks-no matter who she has to destroy along the way. With twins from her ex-husband and secrets closing in from all sides, revenge becomes a dangerous game. The man who betrayed her wants her back. The man who trained her wants her forever. The man obsessed with her would die for her. And her? She wants revenge.
Chapters
Share

Chapter 2

***Megan's POV***

I returned home feeling like a complete mess. Joe had brought me to the party just to humiliate me.

I was a fool to think he'd be even slightly affectionate in public. He didn't even look my way the entire night. His eyes were all on Miranda.

Worse, I couldn't leave because I didn't want to offend his dad, Uncle Julian.

I had watched him all night, having fun with other women like an unmarried man.

Even worse, the evil twins seized the opportunity to rub it in my face.

*Flashback*

"Hey, sis. Trouble in paradise?" Ashley smirked.

I grabbed a wine glass from a passing waiter, downed it in one gulp, and gently placed the glass back on the tray.

"There's definitely trouble in paradise. Joe doesn't even want to be in the same space as her. He obviously hates her. I mean, who wouldn't? She's still looking awful even in an expensive dress," she giggled.

"Don't be harsh, Ashley," Harley joined in with a laugh. "You know she's not used to being luxurious."

They laughed again.

I walked out on them and stepped onto the balcony.

There were other guests there, but even among them, I could hear my name on their lips. It wasn't just Harley and Ashley, everyone was gossiping about Joe and me tonight. About how he preferred my sister to me.

"Did you see the way he shoved her hand away when she tried to hold him?"

"It's terrible. Rumor has it he might divorce her soon. He only married her to get his father's blessing to become the next mafia boss then he could marry Miranda."

"She's so pathetic, really. What did she expect? That a man like Joe would love her? He only did her a favor by getting her out of that house, where she was just a maid, her step sister is the real gold."

"Terrible."

I slipped away quietly and tried to leave the damned party. I stood in front of the elevator like a ghost.

When it opened, there they were, Joe and Miranda wrapped up in each other's arms, kissing passionately.

"Joe!" I didn't mean to say his name out loud, but it escaped me. He and Miranda were having an affair?

He walked out, irritated.

"Where do you think you're going? You can't possibly be leaving the party. My dad specially invited your ass here!"

"Don't change the subject, Joe! What are you doing with her? My step sister! Can't you at least give me a little respect? We're in public. Among your acquaintances!"

Joe looked me over from head to toe, then scoffed.

"I can't do this right now. Miranda, let's leave. Find a nice hotel."

"What?!"

Miranda pushed past me, giggling. I grabbed her arm.

"He's a married man. What do you think you're doing? And you're supposed to be my step sister!"

She shoved me hard, and I fell to the ground. Joe didn't even flinch as he stepped over me.

"Go enjoy the party like I said, Megan. Stop embarrassing yourself trying to play the loving wife. It won't work."

They walked off and climbed into a waiting car.

I was still on the floor.

The world moved hastily around me, and I was in the middle of it all, unloved, humiliated, and scorned.

Later, when I went to his father...

"Joe is a man of his own, Megan," Uncle Julian had said, puffing on a fat cigar. "I only shipped you two because I thought you were compatible. But it looks like you can't handle him. He's a man, all right. Let him have fun."

*End of flashback*

I wiped the tears that had begun to trail down my cheeks again.

Pathetic. That's how I looked tonight. Just like every other night.

Never in a million years would I have thought Joe would be sleeping with Miranda, no wonder she was back in town, she did it to spite me.

Suddenly, my door slammed open. Joe stood in front of me, half-naked, a white towel wrapped loosely around his waist.

He was obviously drunk.

I could smell it even before he entered the bedroom.

He staggered in. His eyes were bloodshot, but sharp.

"Didn't know we were reporting our personal life to our families now," he slurred.

I stood up. "You embarrassed me. In front of everyone, how could you cheat on me with my own step sister!"

He chuckled bitterly and tossed the towel on the floor.

I shifted back a bit, stunned by the sight.

"I didn't ask you to come, did I? It was an invite from my dad, why didn't you just stay home. You knew deep down this was bound to happen, stop lying to yourself."

"Joe..."

He crossed the room in three long strides and pulled me close.

His mouth found mine, rough and demanding.

"No. Wait," I tried to say, but it came out muffled.

"Don't pretend," he growled. "You love this."

I hated how my body responded.

His touch burned.

"Joe," I whispered.

"I want to make love to you," he said, and my heart sank.

"Joe..."

"Can I?" He said in a low growl and I didn't know when I nodded.

He tore the gown I still had on. I panicked.

What if he wakes up in regrets by tomorrow morning.

"Wait... you're drunk."

"I know what I'm doing, Megan. And I know I want you tonight."

Was I dreaming?

He kissed me hungrily, carrying me and pinning me to the wall.

"I want to give you all my love tonight," he whispered, his lips brushing my neck, my chest, down to my thighs.

I knew we might regret this in the morning. But God... how could I resist him?

His body was warm against mine, and heat bubbled inside me.

I was wet already.

His hands slid along my thighs, making me shiver.

"I want to make you feel good tonight."

"Mmhmm," I moaned as his fingers slipped between my legs.

"You're already wet," he smirked, licking his fingers. "Yummy."

"god, Joe," I gasped as his fingers went back in, faster this time.

"That's right... say my name, baby."

I bit my lip, trying to hold in the scream that rose in my throat.

"Don't hold back."

"Argh!" I screamed, unable to resist the pleasure surging through me. My body was on fire.

I reached down, stroking his length, making him groan.

Then he grabbed me possessively, laying me on the bed and parting my thighs.

He knelt between them, his tongue teasing me, making my eyes water from the intensity.

"I want to hear you beg, baby."

"Please... fuck me," I whispered.

He pressed himself against me, rubbing his length along my folds but not entering.

He was teasing me, waiting until I needed it.

"Please!" I begged, louder this time.

"Argh!" I cried out as he filled me.

My back arched as he thrusted hard. I screamed, digging my nails into his skin.

So this... this is what being fucked by Joe felt like.

You may also like

Do I Have A Thing With My Professor? Novel Cover
8.6
Lilac Stone once wanted nothing more than being unnoticed. But everything changed the moment she met Adrian Cole, the new lecturer. He's distant and completely off-limits. She's quiet, guarded, and unprepared for the way he sees right through her. What begins as harmless conversations after class quickly turns into something far more dangerous-something neither of them can stop no matter how hard they try. But then they're living in a world where rules are meant to be followed, and their connection is one line they were never supposed to cross. Whispers turn to accusations. Secrets are exposed. Their futures are at risk. They are merely two opposites-a lecturer and a student, a male and a female-but they are bound to destroy each other as long as they are huddled in one space at the same time. What then can they choose: forfeit their futures and embrace their happiness, or let the latter slip while keeping their careers intact?
My Husband’s Mistress Stole My Baby and My Throne Novel Cover
8.9
Betrayed by her husband, a fallen queen faces a nightmare as her spouse’s mistress seizes both her newborn child and her rightful throne. Stripped of her power and family, she must navigate a dangerous path of survival and vengeance. In a world where love is a weapon and loyalty is rare, she fights to reclaim her stolen legacy. This intense tale of loss and retribution follows her journey to take back everything that was brutally torn away.
Next life, be my luna please Novel Cover
9.3
Natalie and Alpha Lucian's seven - year mate bond turns bitter when he fathers a pup with his mistress, Vanessa. For three years, they battle over breaking the bond. Natalie, once stubbornly refusing, finally calls him to end it, lying that she's dying. After the bond is broken, Alpha Lucian sends her overseas. Three years pass; Natalie dies, and upon hearing the news, Alpha Lucian realizes his true feelings. His relationship with Vanessa deteriorates, and he tries to break their bond, but she refuses. In the end, alone and filled with regret, Alpha Lucian cuts himself off from the world, praying for a better life for Natalie in the next lifetime.
Rejected No More: The Genius's Revenge Novel Cover
9.7
I was sitting in a Starbucks, staring at a cold Americano, while the girl I thought was the love of my life looked at me with pure disgust. Hailee Baxter slammed her latte down and told me we were done, claiming she couldn’t start her career at City Hall with a "diner kid" dragging her down. She wasn't just breaking my heart; she was trading me in for Kyler Craft, the son of a powerful politician who could buy her the future she craved. In my past life, this was the moment I shattered, beginning a twenty-year spiral into alcoholism, poverty, and watching my parents work themselves into an early grave while I failed at everything. I vividly remembered the smell of cheap whiskey and the obituary of my father that I was too broke to even attend. But as I looked down at my hands, they weren't the calloused, shaking hands of a forty-year-old failure; they were smooth, young, and steady. The silver Motorola flip phone in my pocket felt like a relic from a museum, and the girl in front of me looked like a shallow stranger rather than the woman of my dreams. The crushing pain in my chest wasn't a heart attack—it was forty years of bitter regret colliding with a twenty-two-year-old body. Hailee was waiting for me to beg for another chance, her napkin ready to wipe away the pathetic tears she expected, but all I felt was a cold, clinical clarity. How could I have been so blind to her greed, and why did I let one failed exam and a rich boy’s bullying destroy my entire family’s legacy? I glanced at the newspaper on the table: May 12, 2005. This was the day I supposedly lost the City Hall fellowship, but I remembered a secret about the "Supplemental Candidate Protocol" that no one else would know for another week. I stood up, ignored Hailee's insults, and dialed the number etched into my soul. "Mom," I whispered into the flip phone, "I'm coming home. And this time, I’m going to take back everything we lost."
Taming The Sinner: The Doctor’s Cold Game Novel Cover
9.4
I stood before the double doors of the master suite, my hand hovering inches from the polished brass. As a surgeon, I was trained to steady my heart before a cut, but the silence in the Alexander estate felt like the heavy, oppressive pause that always preceded a scream. I pushed the mahogany door open to find my fiancé, Authur, tangled in Egyptian cotton sheets with a woman named Jasmine. The air was thick with the scent of expensive cigars and a floral perfume that wasn't mine—a brutal reality check just twenty-four hours before the merger meant to save my family from total ruin. Authur didn't look guilty; he looked amused, coldly telling me to close the door because I was letting in a draft. When his parents unexpectedly arrived, I was forced to hide his mistress and pretend our "intensity" had ruined the room, donning his discarded shirt to look disheveled just to protect the Lawrence family stock price. The humiliation only deepened on our wedding morning when Authur issued a sadistic ultimatum over the phone. "Wear your scrubs to the altar—the ones covered in blood—or I'll watch your father's company go belly up by lunch." He wanted to turn our wedding at St. Patrick’s Cathedral into a public execution of my dignity. I walked down the aisle in shapeless navy cotton and crimson stains, enduring the horrified gasps of the elite who labeled me an "insane gold digger." Authur stood at the altar, reeking of whiskey and malice, certain he had finally broken me and turned my professional oath into a circus act. But as the priest began the vows, I looked at the man who thought he owned me and realized I wasn't his victim—I was his surgeon. I had the footage of his debauchery ready to play for the world, and as we shared a punishing, hateful kiss for the cameras, I knew the real war had only just begun.