
Loves My Sister, Married To Me
My billionaire fiancé, Claudius, rented out Rockefeller Center to propose. He knelt in the snow with a thousand white roses and called me his forever.
Then, an anonymous text message showed me his marriage certificate. He'd been married to another woman for a whole year, long before he ever put that ring on my finger.
Hiding in the dark, I overheard his friends laughing about it. My life, our love, was just a twisted revenge plot against my sister. I was just the pawn he was using to hurt her.
"She's been sick in the mornings," one of them whispered. "Don't worry. He's got it handled. One phone call to his cousin's clinic. A perfect little accident. She'll never even know she was pregnant."
The man who whispered about our future while his hand rested on my stomach was the same one planning to secretly kill our child. A secret trip to the doctor confirmed it: I was pregnant with twins.
He thought I was a lovesick girl he could break. But as I smiled in his arms that night, I saved the evidence and started planning my escape. I would take his secrets, my children, and everything he thought he owned, and I would disappear before he could erase us.
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Chapter 8
The next afternoon, Charlie stood in the international arrivals hall of JFK Airport's Terminal 4. She was wearing an unassuming black trench coat, oversized sunglasses, and her hair was pulled back in a tight bun.
This was the first time she had stepped outside Claudius's sphere of surveillance in days. She was here to pick up Corina, who was flying back from a business trip in London.
She stood by the VIP exit, holding an iced Starbucks coffee, and scanned the crowd warily. Her eyes darted from face to face, looking for any sign of Buchanan security.
The arrivals board flashed: British Airways Flight 117. Landed.
Passengers began to stream out of the gate. Charlie craned her neck, searching for her sister's familiar face.
And then she saw him.
A tall, imposing figure at the end of the corridor. A perfectly tailored navy suit. That sharp, angular profile that she knew so well.
Claudius.
Charlie's blood ran cold. He was supposed to be in a critical merger meeting on Wall Street all day. What was he doing here?
She jumped back, pressing herself against a massive concrete pillar, her heart hammering in her chest. She peeked out from behind the pillar, and what she saw next made her feel like she was going to throw up.
A woman in a Chanel suit was walking beside him, her arm linked through his. She had the same chestnut brown waves and the same haughty chin as Corina. It was Vivianne Mercer. His wife.
Claudius's face was expressionless, as always, but he didn't pull away. Two bodyguards followed behind them, pushing their luggage carts.
Charlie's fingers dug into the paper coffee cup so hard it crumpled in her hand. Cold coffee spilled down her wrist, but she didn't feel it.
And then, right behind them, not five meters away, Corina walked through the gate.
She was wearing a crisp white Tom Ford suit, her heels clicking sharply on the linoleum floor. She walked like she owned the place, like the world owed her something.
Fate had played a cruel joke. Four people, all bound together by lies and betrayal, had converged on this single, narrow corridor.
Corina looked up, and her eyes locked onto Claudius's back. A look of unadulterated disgust crossed her face.
She saw Vivianne too, and a mocking, bitter smile tugged at her lips.
Claudius must have felt her gaze. He paused mid-step and turned his head slightly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Corina.
In that split second, Charlie saw everything. The stubbornness. The longing. The rage. The hidden madness that lay just beneath his calm surface.
Vivianne followed his gaze. When she saw Corina, her face paled slightly. She tightened her grip on Claudius's arm, pressing herself closer to him, staking her claim.
Charlie pressed her back against the pillar, her stomach churning. The babies inside her seemed to sense her distress, and a dull ache spread through her lower abdomen.
Corina didn't slow down. She didn't acknowledge either of them. She just kept walking, her head held high, and walked right past them without a single glance.
Charlie knew she couldn't hide any longer. She had to go to her sister.
She took a deep breath, straightened her trench coat, and pushed her sunglasses down onto her nose. She stepped out from behind the pillar.
"Corina!" she called, her voice clear and sweet.
The sound echoed through the arrivals hall.
Corina stopped and turned, a smile breaking across her face when she saw Charlie.
And Claudius spun around so fast it was almost violent.
When he saw Charlie standing there, his pupils dilated to black pinpricks. He made a sharp, involuntary movement to pull his arm away from Vivianne.
But Charlie didn't even glance in his direction. It was as if he didn't exist. As if he was just a speck of dust in the air.
She walked straight past him, straight to Corina. She threw her arms around her sister and took her leather briefcase from her hand.
"Welcome home," she said, smiling up at her.
As they walked past him, Charlie caught a whiff of his familiar cologne, mixed with the sickly sweet scent of Vivianne's perfume.
She held her head high, her back straight, and walked out of the airport with her sister, leaving a stunned Claudius Buchanan standing frozen in the middle of the arrivals hall.
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8.2
A week before my wedding, I went to the airport parking garage to surprise my fiancé with a luxury watch.
Instead, I caught him having sex in his car with my best friend and maid of honor.
Devastated and desperate to forget, I went to an exclusive club and blew my $50,000 trust fund to buy a one-night stand with a gorgeous stranger.
But the nightmare was just beginning.
At work, my cheating best friend stole my hard-earned promotion, and my ex shamelessly defended her.
Worse, the escort I had paid for sex turned out to be the ruthless new CEO of my airline.
He tormented me on a flight to Paris. When I was robbed of my passport and wallet on the freezing streets, he forced me to be his gala date just to get my life back.
But the ultimate trap was waiting for me in New York.
A secretly taken photo of me leaving the CEO's penthouse leaked on the company forum.
"I knew she got that Paris trip for a reason."
My ex and my former best friend led the charge in the comments, framing me as a shameless gold digger who slept her way to the top.
I was stripped of my flying credentials, suspended from the job I loved, and publicly humiliated.
I didn't understand why the CEO was playing these cruel games, or who had orchestrated this perfect trap to ruin my life.
Standing outside the airport with my career in ashes, I realized crying wouldn't save me.
I wiped my tears, accepted my mother's invitation to a high-society mixer, and prepared to make everyone who set me up pay the price.

8.0
Abigayle was the proud heir to the Pena Group, living a perfect life and engaged to Jeffery Sullivan.
But the morning after a charity gala, she woke up drugged in a hotel room, blinded by paparazzi cameras. Her fiancé and her best friend stood at the foot of the bed, throwing a forged pregnancy report at her face to publicly frame her for cheating.
The betrayal was only the beginning of the slaughter. Before she could even clear her name, the Sullivan family ruthlessly bankrupted her family's company overnight. Her father was rushed to the ICU with a heart attack, her brother was run off the road into a coma, and violent repo men raided her penthouse. Just as she was thrown out into the freezing rain, Jeffery's terrifying uncle, Donovan Sullivan—the very mastermind who engineered her family's ruin—stepped in. He offered to cover the life-saving medical bills, but only if she agreed to become his personal plaything.
Abigayle's blood turned to ice. She couldn't understand how the people she trusted most could plot such a vicious, coordinated destruction just to break an engagement. How dared the man who destroyed her entire family stand there playing the savior, trying to buy her body with her own stolen wealth?
Facing a $100,000 hospital deadline and abandoned by everyone she knew, she didn't shed another tear.
"I will never beg him."
Clutching her last diamond bracelet, she hailed a cab straight to the biggest pawnshop in the Diamond District. The Sullivans thought they had buried her, but her counterattack was just beginning.

8.4
Twenty-four-year-old Rain Hart has fought to be seen all her life. Getting admitted into the prestigious Katherine Knight Fashion Academy with nothing but talent was a sign to her that things were finally falling into place in her life... until she encountered Adrian Knight, the billionaire CEO. She never planned to fall for the most dangerous man in it.
Adrian Knight is power, control, and temptation wrapped in a suit, and completely off-limits. He is everything Rain should avoid: married, connected to the Academy. But stolen glances turn into secret meetings, and before Rain can stop herself, she's trapped in an affair that could destroy them both.
Because Adrian doesn't belong to her. He belongs to a world built on dominance, legacy... and ruthless women who don't lose. When their secret explodes, it doesn't just trend...
It detonates. The headlines are merciless. The academy turns toxic. Jealous rivals circle like vultures. Then a blackmailer ends up dead. Adrian is arrested for murder. And Rain becomes the girl everyone loves to hate.
But the scandal isn't the most dangerous thing lurking in the shadows.
It's the truth.
A truth so devastating it shatters everything Rain thought she knew about love, loyalty... and herself.
Now pregnant, hunted by the press, betrayed by the powerful, and drowning in a world where trust is a weapon... Rain runs.
But in the Knight empire, power doesn't forgive. Jealousy doesn't forget. Survival comes at a price. And some secrets?
They should never be uncovered.

7.4
For six years, I worked myself to the bone to support my "struggling artist" boyfriend, Kasen. I paid the rent on our leaky Brooklyn apartment and believed in his dream, thinking our love was real.
That all ended one rainy night when I delivered documents to an exclusive club and overheard him with his wealthy friends. Our life, he said, was just a "sociological experiment."
He wasn't poor at all. He was a trust fund heir with a fiancée in the Hamptons, waiting to close a corporate merger.
"Kaia is just a naive pet who voluntarily pays my rent," he laughed over a three-thousand-dollar glass of scotch.
He told them girls like me were so desperate we'd come crawling back for a scrap of affection. My entire world shattered.
I packed my bags and walked out that night with eighty-four dollars to my name, ready to start over. But escaping one monster only threw me to another. The next day, a predatory client tried to drug me during a business meeting.
My boss, the terrifyingly powerful CEO Camden William, intervened. But after a night of drug-induced chaos, I woke up in his bed.
He didn't offer an apology. He offered a contract. "Marry me for three years," he commanded, "and I'll give you five million dollars and make sure Kasen can never touch you again."

7.8
WARNING: 18+ ONLY‼️
Dearest Reader,
The pleasurable act of sinning never felt so good. LMW presents to you a collection of all the sins you never had the courage to commit....
This book is an exotic collection of 30 different erotic stories of irresistible steam, passionate romance, ecstasy, and a salacious manifestation of your darkest desires.
There is a charm about the forbidden that makes it unspeakably desirable, get ready to wet yourselves, dream, desire for more like I did and have fun!
Lila Monroe Williams

8.4
My sister, Eleanor, was the laughingstock of the Vance family.
She was known as the pathetic, socially crippled heiress, bullied at school and discarded by our father for his new step-daughter.
I thought she just couldn't handle the pressure, until I stood in the freezing morgue and watched the heavy industrial zipper seal her bruised face away forever.
The car crash that killed her wasn't an accident.
Our cousin paid the driver to secure the family trust fund. Our step-sister Sophia orchestrated her daily torment, and our father Arthur embezzled her inheritance to buy a fake Ivy League pedigree.
They ruined Eleanor's reputation, painted her as a disfigured lunatic, and left her to die in absolute despair.
Why did the people who shared our blood treat her worse than a stray dog? How could they smile for the cameras while her blood was still wet on their hands?
They thought with Eleanor dead, they had finally won.
But they didn't know I existed.
I scrubbed the weakness from her name and took over her identity.
I slipped into a black tactical suit, bypassed military-grade security, and walked straight into the office of Wall Street's apex predator, Ethan Thorne.
I pressed a combat knife against his aorta and looked into his cold eyes.
"I need a political marriage. And you need a wife."
Starting today, Eleanor Vance is back, and the entire family is going to burn.