His Wife Is My Sister, But I'm His Mate
Plot.
Synopsis.
Liora could never belong. The daughter of an extramarital affair, she had lived in the shadows, cut off from the rest of the family, and learned to fend for herself while surviving. Stripping gave her life now, but everything changed one wild night.
Two days before his wedding, Darius entered her club, craving for the last taste of bachelorhood, he pays Liora for a special dance which led to a one-night stand. Neither of them expected to see each other again or that Liora's long lost sister, Selene, was the bride waiting at the altar.
The one-night stand becomes a dangerous truth that must be hidden. Lies never remain hidden, however, and when Liora learns she is pregnant with Darius's child, silence may be not be an option for her.
Exposition.
Liora, a daughter born as a result of her father's infidelity with a maid, which resulted in the divorce that separates her from her big sister. Due to the family's financial difficulties faced while growing up and the consequent death of her father, Liora eventually becomes a stripper to put food on her table. Unknown to her at the time, she carried the hidden omega bloodline from her father's alpha lineage, suppressed by years away from the pack.
Inciting incident.
One night, she is hired by a man who is getting married in just two days and wants to enjoy his last moments of bachelorhood. She ends up having a one-night stand with him. The moment they touched, an undeniable mate spark ignited between them-raw, electric, and impossible to ignore-but neither understood its full power yet.
When Liora returns home that same night, she encounters an old man who introduces himself as the butler of the Blackwood family, tells her she has been invited to the wedding of her sister. This comes as a shock-Liora grew up knowing she had a sister, but Harlan never allowed them to meet. He carried that secret to his grave, and after his death, Liora stopped thinking about it. Despite her hesitation and doubts as to if they got the wrong person, she agrees to attend.
Rising action.
She arrives the night before the wedding , finds out she has been a daughter of the well known Blackwood family all along and learns the truth: it was her stepmother, not Harlan, who had always been against their meeting. The stepmother is currently serving time in jail for a minor business-related crime and her elder sister, Selene had her research done to find her because she wanted to reconcile with her younger sister and what better opportunity than a wedding. Liora also discovers that Selene is a sweetheart who had longed to meet her, but had been forced to stay away because of Ravenna's influence.
But then, another huge blow hits-Liora finds out that the man she was with last night, the one she slept with, is the man Selene is set to marry, Darius. She holds this secret to herself, haunted by the mate pull that now torments her every thought.
The marriage happens, and it all goes well. After that, Selene gives Liora a new path, far from her old job. She brings her into her home and starts to look after her. But soon, Liora finds out she is going to have a baby. With fear and shame, she hides this news.
Climax.
When Ravenna is released from prison, she is furious to find Liora living with her family. She makes it clear that she does not accept her, resenting her existence as a reminder of Harlan's infidelity. A few days later, Selene announces that she is pregnant too. Ravenna immediately becomes protective of her "real" daughter, which only deepens Liora's insecurities. She considers leaving before her secret is exposed.
But fate intervenes. An accident happens, and they find out Liora was pregnant. Since she was once a stripper, no one talks about the dad. But Darius, who knows they share risky secret, sets up a secret meeting for them to talk. He wants to know if he is the dad, and Liora says yes-but she will keep it quiet and plans to leave soon. In their tense exchange, the mate bond flares again, confirming what they both sensed that first night.
Ravenna,who happens to be at the wrong side at the right time ,overheard part of their talk. With doubts in her mind, she quietly does a DNA test between Darius and Liora's unborn baby.
The results confirm he is the father. Seeing her chance to drive a wedge between the sisters, she keeps the secret until the gender reveal party for both daughters. There, in front of everyone, she exposes the truth. The revelation makes headlines.
Selene feels utterly betrayed-by both her husband and her sister. She leaves Darius's house with Ravenna and sends divorce papers days later. Liora feels destroyed, her betrayal now public, and her pain is doubled when she learns Selene has lost her baby and is battling ovarian cancer, which requires an urgent bone marrow transplant.
Through her best friend, Dr. Thorne, Liora learns this. She gets tested and finds out she is a match , but her unborn baby stops her. Darius knows she got test
Chapters
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Chapter 1
Liora's POV
I was sitting in front of the cracked mirror in the dressing room, fixing my lipstick when Nina, one of the girls, popped her head inside.
"Liora," she said, chewing her gum like always. "Madam wants to see you. Now."
I blinked at her. "Madam?" I asked, confused. "Why? I'm up in twenty minutes. This is my solo. Biggest night of the year, remember?"
She just shrugged. "Don't ask me. She said it's urgent." Then she walked away, swinging her hips like she was already on stage.
My heart gave a nervous jump. Madam never called me before a performance, especially not tonight. I had worked for months to get this solo. A full house of hockey players who'd booked the entire floor just to watch me dance. If I were lucky, such tips could cover my rent for a whole year.
With a sigh and smoothing my sequined bra, I left out of the dressing room and proceeded toward Madam's office at the end of the hallway.
Madam looked up from her desk when I stepped inside. Her face softened before that familiar warmth climbed back into her eyes. To me, Madam was not just the owner of the strip club. She was more like mother: very strict and protective.
She said, "Liora, my girl," smiling. "Come in."
I closed the door behind me, leaning against it. "Why did you summon me Madam? Remember I have a big night ahead. Solo. Hockey Team. Tips. Rent. Need I say more?"
She dropped a pen on the desk. "There's a man. He's got two days left of bachelorhood, and he wants to spend it with a private performance. His last gift to himself before he ties the knot."
I blinked at her, unsure if I heard right. "Wait... he's getting married? And he wants a strip performance from me?"
Madam nodded.
"That's cheating," I blurted out before I could stop myself. "Isn't it? He's about to mate some woman, and this is how he spends his last days single? That's wrong."
Madam gave me that look-the one that always made me feel like a kid. "Liora. You're getting paid to dance. Not to worry about morals. Leave the right and wrong to councils and seers. You just do your job."
I bit my lip. My chest felt tight, but she wasn't wrong. Morals didn't pay rent.
"How much are we talking about?" I asked carefully.
She smirked. "Add a couple of zeroes behind your annual earnings."
My eyes widened. "What?"
She laughed at my expression. "That's right. Enough to cover more than just your rent. You could start fresh if you want to."
I sank into the chair opposite her desk, stunned. Who would pay that much for one dance? But then again, it wasn't my business to ask.
I forced a smile. "Thank you, Madam."
She leaned forward, her eyes sparkling. "Don't thank me yet. The man is already waiting in the VVIP room. Go change into your best outfit, and make sure you give him the performance of his life."
I swallowed hard and nodded.
I went into the dressing room, digging through costumes until I found what always earned me the most tips. No, it wasn't that lame bra that did nothing for me but get me feeling cocky. It was a real black lace number with a matching thong and a glittery sheer robe that clung to my hips when I moved. Put it on, touched up lipstick again, looked and stared at myself, squared shoulders and walked toward the VVIP room.
I pushed the heavy door open, and the room was lit by red and blue lights. The scent of costly perfume mixed with a whiff of cigarette smoke coming from a man seated on a leather couch. His presence hit me like a jolt-an unfamiliar heat stirring deep inside, like my hidden omega instincts awakening for the first time.
I cleared my throat. "Did you order a dancer?"
He raised his head slowly, and I saw his face.
"Goddam! This man is fine as fuck!" The voice in my head screamed.
"Are you here to dance or interview me?" He answered my question with his own. His grey eyes locked on mine, sending an electric mate spark through me that made my skin tingle.
Heat crept to my cheeks. I pressed play on the music so that the slow and sensual beat filled up the room. Without another word, I just started moving, body swaying with my hips, hands gliding on my body as I touched myself.
His gaze never left me.
Halfway through, he leaned forward, a little less easy. "Put the strip in strip dance."
I hesitated just a moment, and then slipped the robe from my shoulders. It fell to the floor. My body tightened, and I tried to move gracefully.
He stood up and walked towards me. The air seemed heavier. Just his presence made my pulse race. I told myself I had handled this before; men come close, men stare too much. I could deal with it.
But when his fingers brushed against my waist and he pulled the removed the hook of my bra, my breath caught. The mate pull surged, raw and magnetic, drawing me closer despite myself.
I pulled back, lifting my chin. "Touching isn't part of the deal."
He smirked, pulled out a blank chequebook from his jacket, and placed it on the table beside us. "Write any amount you want. Cash it tomorrow. Just keep me company tonight."
My heart skipped and I nodded slowly. "Fine."
That night, I gave in. I let him take me to the hotel upstairs, and I spent the night with him. I felt guilty, but with each lick of his tongue against my nipple, each flick of his thumb against my clit, each thrust of his cock against my swollen pussy, the guilt faded away, replaced by my moans and his groans. The mate bond sealed in that passion, binding us unknowingly.
When it was over, he went into the bathroom. I sat on the edge of the bed, my legs trembling, pussy still sore , pulling on my clothes in silence.
Then my phone rang.
It was my neighbor.
"Liora," she whispered urgently. "There's a man outside your place looking for you. Says he knows you. Been waiting for hours. I thought I should tell you."
My stomach tightened. I hadn't had visitors in years. Who could it be?
I stood up, and walked out of the room, heading straight for my house.
And sure enough, when I turned onto my street, I saw him. An old man standing by a black sedan, his hands clasped in front of him like he'd been waiting all night.
I froze. My neighbor was right.
The man looked straight at me, and his voice was steady when he called out-
"Liora Voss."
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7.6
Isolde Mitchell knew her wealthy husband was cheating on her, but the true nightmare began when her mother-in-law summoned her.
The older woman coldly announced that the mistress was pregnant with a boy and would be moving into their estate.
Because Isolde's family had gone bankrupt and she had only given birth to a frail daughter, she was deemed completely worthless.
When Isolde packed her bags and demanded a divorce, her husband Clark just laughed.
He threatened to use their ironclad prenup to leave her penniless and take full custody of her daughter just to torture her.
To make matters worse, he forced Isolde to secure a failing business deal with the ruthless billionaire Jacques Valdez, essentially ordering her to sell her body to get the signature.
"If you fail, you will never see Bria again."
He even sent his goons to snatch the little girl from her preschool to prove his point.
Isolde was completely cornered, trembling with a mix of rage and absolute despair.
How could the man she married be such a monster? She would rather die than let them destroy her daughter, but how could a bankrupt mother fight a powerful dynasty with absolutely nothing?
Out of options, she looked at the private business card the terrifying billionaire Jacques had unexpectedly given her daughter.
Swallowing her pride, she decided to make a deal with the devil himself, ready to use his power to tear her husband's family apart.
9.8
Four years ago, I was drugged on a luxury yacht and ended up pregnant with twins.
I raised them in secret, enduring my stepfamily's daily abuse, until the billionaire West family patriarch cornered us at the airport.
He instantly recognized my son's face—an exact replica of his ruthless grandson, Bernardo West.
My malicious stepmother and stepsister immediately leaked to the press that I was a delusional gold-digger using fake kids to trap a billionaire.
They wanted the West family to destroy me to save their own social standing.
Bernardo himself looked at me with pure disgust, demanding a DNA test.
"If you ever lie to me, I will take the children, and I will make you wish you were never born."
I didn't want his money. I was a victim of that night too, left with a crescent-shaped bite mark on my collarbone and zero memory of who set us up.
Why did someone drug us? And how could I protect my babies from a corporate predator who could crush me with a snap of his fingers?
But when the DNA test came back 99.9999% positive, I didn't cower.
I showed him the scar he left on me, looked the most dangerous man in the country right in the eye, and made my demand.
"If you want to claim your heirs, you have to marry me."
9.7
Blurb: She signed the divorce papers. He never signed away his obsession.
Veronica Stanford was the perfect wife-devoted, patient, and hopelessly in love. But when her billionaire husband, Jason Harper, trades her in for her treacherous best friend, Rhea, Veronica's world shatters. Broken and betrayed, she drowns her sorrows in a bar, only to be saved by a dangerously alluring stranger with emerald-green eyes and a lethal reputation: Monte "Four" Zagcanni, the ruthless heir to a mafia empire.
Four is everything Jason isn't-dark, dangerous, and devastatingly protective. When Veronica discovers she's pregnant with Jason's child, she strikes a deal with Four: a fake marriage to shield her from scandal. But what starts as a cold arrangement ignites into a passion neither can resist.
Jason, realizing his mistake too late, wants Veronica back-along with the son he never knew existed. But Four isn't a man who surrenders what's his. And Veronica? She's done being the meek wife.
Betrayal runs deep. Revenge burns hotter.
As secrets unravel-her father's bloody past, Rhea's twisted obsession, and Jason's deadly lies-Veronica must decide: trust the man who destroyed her once, or surrender to the devil who might destroy her forever.
One wants her back. The other wants her forever.
9.6
To escape my sister-in-law selling me off to a local thug, I married a complete stranger I met at City Hall.
My new husband, Drake, claimed to be a broke Uber driver who could barely make rent.
He even made me sign a brutal ten-page prenup just to ensure I wouldn't take his rusted, beat-up Ford sedan if we ever divorced.
I thought I was just sharing a decaying Brooklyn apartment with a struggling man at the bottom of the ladder.
But things quickly stopped making sense.
When that local thug cornered me at a restaurant, my "weak" husband didn't cower.
Instead, he dismantled three massive mobsters in ten seconds with the terrifying, fluid speed of an apex predator.
"I used to be a human punching bag in an underground boxing gym to pay off debts."
I believed his excuse, until his supposedly homeless grandfather showed up at our door in a moth-eaten sweater, begging to sleep on our lumpy sofa.
Before going to sleep, the old man casually pressed a heavy, intricately engraved pocket watch into my hand as a wedding gift.
He claimed it was a cheap flea market find that didn't even keep time.
But the sheer weight of the solid rose gold and the flawless mechanical gears inside screamed otherwise.
Why did a destitute driver have the aura of a man who controlled empires?
And what kind of homeless old man casually hands over a priceless, museum-grade antique?
I had no idea the "broke driver" sleeping on my floor was actually a ruthless billionaire CEO, and I had just walked straight into his trap.
7.1
The night before her wedding to Wall Street billionaire Everette Baird, Deliah Quinn stood happily in her haute couture gown.
Then, her younger sister Arvilla walked in, handed her a drugged glass of champagne, and slammed an ultrasound on the vanity.
"I'm pregnant with Everette's child," Arvilla sneered.
Before Deliah's paralyzed body could react, Arvilla dragged in a canister of industrial gasoline, soaked the bridal suite, tossed a lighter, and locked the heavy oak doors from the outside.
To escape the roaring inferno, Deliah smashed the glass balcony and threw herself into the freezing, violent waters of the Atlantic Ocean.
For five agonizing years, everyone believed the Quinn heiress was dead.
Deliah returned to New York entirely reborn—a top architectural designer and a single mother, having scrubbed her past clean and forgotten the people who destroyed her.
She only wanted a peaceful life with her five-year-old genius son, Leo.
But she had no idea her son was secretly hacking airport security cameras to find himself a wealthy stepdad.
Leo deliberately bumped into a terrifying, cold-blooded tycoon, spilling scalding coffee on his custom suit to get his attention.
When Deliah frantically rushed over to protect her son and apologize, the air in the terminal vanished.
Everette Baird stared at the exact face he had obsessively mourned for five years, his eyes turning pitch black as he crushed his phone in his bare hand.
7.9
I woke up in a burning warehouse, twelve years after my supposed death. My body had been reset to its physical prime, the deep burn scar on my wrist completely gone.
Through the smoke, my eldest son, Kennard, rushed blindly into the flames. He was screaming the name of the very woman who had orchestrated this trap—Brittnie.
When I tackled him out of the way of a falling steel beam, he didn't recognize my youthful face. Instead, he pinned me to the concrete and nearly crushed my windpipe.
"How much did she pay you to carve up your face to look like a dead woman?"
He hissed the words at me, treating me like a sick corporate spy. For a decade, a bizarre narrative "script" had brainwashed my son, forcing him into pathetic devotion to Brittnie. She had drained his wealth, turned my daughter against him, and hollowed out our family empire.
Whenever Kennard tried to resist her, the mind control punished him with agonizing migraines, driving him to smash his own hands against the wall just to cope with the pain.
Hearing him quietly sobbing outside my locked door, my heart shattered. How could this invisible force torture my brilliant son and turn my family into puppets for a D-list actress?
I dragged him to the hospital for a DNA test.
When the results confirmed my maternity at 99.999%, the cold billionaire collapsed to the floor, weeping in my arms like a lost child.
I wiped his tears and smiled ruthlessly. It was time to take back my empire and burn Brittnie's life to the ground.