I Hid His Heir from My Alpha
For two years, I was the Alpha's secret wife, a duty he resented. But the positive pregnancy test in my hand was a miracle, a blessing from the Moon Goddess. This baby, our heir, was supposed to be the bridge that finally mended our broken mate bond.
That night, he left without a word. I saw on a gossip site that he'd gone to pick up his ex-lover, Isadora. Reaching for him through our bond, I wasn't met with his usual coldness, but with her emotions bleeding through him-triumph and smug possession.
The next morning, I went to his office, ready to tell him about our baby, believing our child could fix us. But I stopped when I heard him talking to our Pack Healer about me.
The healer said I looked fragile, that he should care for his mate. My husband laughed.
"You seem to care for her more than I do," Demetri said, his voice dripping with ice. "Do you want me to give her to you? Take her. She's of no use to me."
My world shattered. I wasn't just unloved; I was a thing to be discarded. I looked down at the pregnancy report, the proof of the life inside me, and made a vow. He would never know about our child, and I would sever our bond myself.
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Chapter 2
Alessandra POV
I pushed the heavy mahogany door open, my knuckles white around the crumpled medical report. The air inside the office hit me like a physical blow—not the comforting, crisp scent of rain and pine I craved, but a cloying, suffocating stench of vanilla and synthetic roses.
Isadora.
She was all over him.
Demetri sat behind his desk, looking immaculate in a fresh suit, but the scent of another woman clung to his skin like a second layer. He didn't even look up as I placed the stack of pack financial reports on his desk. My hand trembled, the paper edge brushing against the polished wood.
"Your scent is a mess, Alpha," Adan said, his voice tight with disapproval. He stood by the window, arms crossed. "You reek of conflict... and her."
Demetri finally looked up, his storm-grey eyes flat and unyielding. He ignored me completely, his gaze locking on the Healer. "Watch your tone, Adan. My private life is not up for debate."
"It is when it affects the Pack's stability," Adan countered, his eyes flickering to me with pity. That pity was worse than Demetri's indifference. It made me feel small. Pathetic.
"Leave us," Demetri commanded, waving a hand dismissively in my direction.
I felt my wolf whimper, bowing her head to the Alpha's order despite my breaking heart. I turned and walked out, the silence in the room deafening. The elevator ride down was a blur of tears and the phantom smell of cheap perfume that seemed to have permanently stained my mate.
By lunch, the nausea had returned with a vengeance. I retreated to the Pack House communal kitchen, hoping for a quiet glass of water to settle the rolling in my stomach. The room was buzzing with whispers, eyes darting my way before snapping back to hushed conversations.
"Some Omegas just don't know their place," a shrill voice cut through the noise.
Chrissy Sweeney leaned against the counter, flanked by two other pack members. She smirked, her eyes raking over my simple grey dress. "Do you really think our Alpha would ever look at you when a true high-born she-wolf like Isadora is back?"
I gripped my glass, my knuckles turning white. "Move, Chrissy."
"Make me," she sneered. Before I could react, she snatched a steaming mug of coffee from the counter and jerked her wrist.
"Oops."
The dark liquid splashed across my forearm. Searing heat tore through my skin, blistering instantly. I gasped, dropping my water glass. It shattered, shards exploding across the tile.
*My pup.* The fear wasn't for me; it was a primal, violent terror for the life inside me. The stress, the pain—it was too much.
"You're nothing but a packless runt!" Chrissy laughed, stepping closer. "An orphan nobody wants!"
Something inside me snapped. It wasn't my weak Omega wolf; it was the mother. My hand moved before I registered the thought.
*Crack.*
The slap echoed through the kitchen, silencing the room. Chrissy stumbled back, clutching her cheek, shock written all over her face. I grabbed her wrist, twisting it until she cried out.
"She attacked me!" Chrissy shrieked, playing the victim instantly. "The Alpha's little Omega whore attacked me!"
"Enough!"
The command rolled over us like thunder, vibrating in my bones. The air grew heavy, charged with static. Demetri stood in the doorway, his presence filling the room. Everyone froze.
He stalked forward, his eyes cold as they swept over the shattered glass and my red, blistering arm. But his gaze didn't soften. He looked at me like I was a unruly child.
"Pack Law forbids wolves from raising a hand against one another," Demetri stated, his voice devoid of warmth. "Did you attack her, Alessandra?"
He didn't ask what she did. He didn't ask if I was hurt. He only saw my defiance.
I released Chrissy's wrist, standing tall despite the trembling in my legs. "As a member of this Pack, I apologize to her," I said, my voice shaking but clear. I looked him dead in the eye. "But as a woman, I do not."
I turned on my heel and walked out, leaving the Alpha and his judgment behind.
---
Demetri POV
The kitchen was silent as Alessandra disappeared into the hallway. The scent of her distress—burnt skin and salt tears—lingered, souring the air. It irritated my wolf, scratching at the back of my mind.
Chrissy was still whimpering, holding her cheek, a smug look creeping into her eyes as she looked up at me. "Thank you, Alpha. She's out of control. She—"
I moved faster than she could blink. I slammed my hand against the counter beside her head, leaning in until my nose brushed her ear.
"You will forget this happened," I snarled, letting the full weight of my Alpha aura crush her. Her knees buckled, and she slid to the floor, terror replacing her smugness. "You will never speak to her, look at her, or breathe in her direction again. She is MINE to deal with."
My wolf paced aggressively, demanding blood for the scent of burnt flesh on my mate. I shoved the instinct down.
"Touch her again," I whispered, my voice dropping to a lethal octave, "and I will rip your throat out."
I straightened, adjusting my cuffs, and looked at Kael, my Gamma, who had been watching silently.
"Get this trash out of my sight."
---
Alessandra POV
The evening air was cool, but my arm throbbed with a steady, burning rhythm. I stood outside the Pack Clinic, waiting for the shuttle to take me to my grandmother's cottage. I couldn't stay in the Pack House tonight. I couldn't breathe the same air as him.
Gravel crunched. A sleek black Bentley rolled into the lot.
My heart gave a traitorous leap. Demetri. Had he come to check on me? Had Adan told him about the burn?
The driver's door opened. Demetri stepped out, looking devastatingly handsome in the dying light. He walked around the car, but his eyes didn't scan for me. He opened the passenger door.
Isadora Pacheco sat there, looking pale and fragile.
Demetri leaned in, unbuckling her seatbelt with a gentleness I had never known. He scooped her into his arms, holding her against his chest as if she were made of glass.
"I've got you," I heard him murmur, his voice low and tender. "I'm here."
He carried her past me toward the clinic entrance. He didn't even see me standing in the shadows, clutching my burnt arm, carrying his heir.
The last ember of hope in my chest didn't just turn to ash; it froze. I watched them disappear inside, the image searing itself into my memory more painfully than the coffee on my skin.
I turned away, walking into the darkening woods. I didn't need a shuttle. I needed to be gone.
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7.7
My bank account was four hundred dollars in the red when my brother called me screaming from the most exclusive club in Manhattan. He said he was going to be killed or arrested, and I was the only one who could save him from the mess he’d made.
When I arrived at The Onyx, I found my brother on his knees, accused of assaulting a high-profile socialite. But instead of begging for my help, he pointed a shaking finger at me and screamed, "It was her! My sister set the whole thing up because she wanted money!"
The man watching the chaos from the shadows was Adrian Clemons—the billionaire CEO of the company where I worked as a lowly assistant. He didn't look at me with pity; he looked at me with a profound, exhausted disgust, as if I were a stain on his expensive rug.
To save his own skin, my brother didn't just lie; he offered me up like a piece of tradeable property. "She'll do anything," he pleaded with the billionaire. "She’s clean, she’s obedient. Just don't send me to jail!"
Adrian didn't call the police. Instead, he made a cold, terrifying business proposal: "Lend her to me for one year. I wipe your debt, and the cops stay away." My brother didn't even blink before he snapped, "Done. Take her."
I was whisked away to City Hall in a silent Rolls Royce, signing a marriage license before I could even process the betrayal. I wasn't a bride; I was a "human asset" bought to help a cold-blooded monster secure his inheritance.
The moment my hand accidentally brushed his during the signing, he recoiled as if I were contagious, his face turning a ghostly, panicked white. He made it clear that I was nothing more than a prop, a girl from the slums meant to spite his elitist mother.
As the heavy iron gates of the Clemons estate slammed shut behind me that night, I realized I hadn't just saved my brother. I had entered a golden cage owned by a man who hated my touch, but owned my life for the next three hundred and sixty-five days.
8.2
I went to a private clinic for a routine physical, only to find out I was pregnant.
It was impossible. I took my birth control every single day. But when the doctor tested my pills, they turned out to be high-purity vitamin placebos. My billionaire husband, Denton, had been systematically replacing my medication.
Yet, on our anniversary, he brought my sister Beverly home, demanding a divorce so he could marry her. When I refused to sign a settlement that left me with nothing, he froze my accounts and blacklisted me across New York.
My own father disowned me. When an old friend offered me a job just so I could afford prenatal care, Denton launched a ruthless financial attack to bankrupt his firm.
Then, Beverly got into a car crash. Denton's bodyguards dragged me off the street and forced me into a hospital trauma room. Beverly was hemorrhaging, and I was the only blood match.
I cried and begged Denton to stop, desperately trying to protect my fragile pregnancy without exposing my baby to the monster who controlled my life.
"Please, my body can't handle this. Don't do this to me!"
But he just looked at me with pure disgust and ordered his men to strap me to the chair, forcing the needle into my vein while threatening to kill me if his mistress died.
As I dragged my bleeding, cramping body out of the hospital into the freezing snow, my last shred of hope died.
I touched my stomach and made a vow: I would disappear, and I would make them all pay.
9.7
"Sign it. You're no woman if you can't give me an heir."
Niamh gave Marcus two years of her life, her unwavering loyalty, and her silent love. In return, the billionaire CEO served her divorce papers and a one-way ticket to the gutter.
Cast out into a rainy night with nothing but the clothes on her back and twelve dollars, Niamh’s story should have ended there.
Instead, she stumbled on a stranger in the rain.
In an attempt to save him, he kisses her senseless. He is the last Lycan King standing, and a man of terrifying power, yet he is haunted by a seven-century curse.
When the king has a taste of Niamh in the pouring rain, he knew he had to keep her for himself, even though she was human and it was against the laws of their kind not to mingle with humans.
The King needs her essence and Niamh realizes she could use her body to get what she wanted; revenge on Marcus and his mother for humiliating her and making her waste her time.
Now, the woman Marcus discarded is rising as a global conglomerate queen and a Divine Enchantress as assigned by the Moon Goddess.
While her ex-husband’s empire crumbles into bankruptcy and his body rots with a shameful curse, Niamh is learning that being "claimed" by the King is much more than the contract she'd initially made with him.
He wanted to use her as his cure. She wanted to use him for her revenge.
But in the Lumina Realm, the Goddess has other plans.
9.6
To save her brother's life, she signs a one-year marriage contract with a cold, powerful billionaire.
No love.
No intimacy.
No feelings involved.
At least-that was the deal.
Living under the same roof with Adrian Blackwood, she slowly discovers a man who protects her in silence, shields her from his ruthless family, and watches her like she's already his world.
What she doesn't know is that this marriage was never business to him.
He has loved her for years-quietly, painfully-waiting for a chance that finally came disguised as a contract.
When the truth is revealed and the contract ends, will love be enough to keep them together...
or will she walk away from the man who loved her first?
A slow-burn billionaire romance filled with fake marriage, hidden love, heartbreak, and redemption.
9.3
For five years, I was Ashton Miller's invisible partner, his loyal fiancée, pouring my life into building his empire from the shadows. Tonight, the Bronze Deer exhibition, my masterpiece, was finally opening at the Met, a testament to our shared future.
Then, Bianca, a third-tier actress, stepped into the spotlight in *my* custom Vera Wang wedding dress. My blood ran cold as Ashton's arm circled her waist, his whispered words promising to make her the "new queen of the city."
Five years of trust and sacrifice crumbled. I was a blood bag, drained and discarded. When I publicly exposed their lies, Ashton cornered me backstage, his face twisted in fury, threatening to ruin me, to blacklist me forever. I ripped off his engagement ring, tossing it at his chest. "We're done," I said, walking out as his enraged screams echoed.
The man whose empire I secretly built called me a parasite, his mistress feigning tears, painting me as delusional. My guilt vanished, replaced by freezing, absolute hatred for the man who twisted reality to erase my existence.
Standing in the New York rain, I finally pulled out the military-grade encrypted phone hidden for five years. The line clicked open instantly, a low, gravelly voice asking, "Is it you?" Before I could answer, Archer's voice hardened: "Give me the location. I'll be there in ten minutes. Who touched you? I want his life."
9.7
Elena Whitmore always knew falling for her brother's best friend was a mistake. But one stolen night with Grayson Hale changed everything, and cost her more than she ever imagined.
When he vanished without a word, she buried the past and built a life no one could touch. A life that included a daughter Grayson has never known.
Five years later, he's back. Wealthier. Colder. Determined to uncover why she disappeared, and why she's engaged to a man she doesn't love.
As old sparks ignite and buried truths begin to surface, Elena must decide if protecting her secrets is worth sacrificing the only man she ever loved.