LOVING HIM TO DEATH

All she wanted was an escape from her father’s infidelity and a home that no longer felt safe. She never expected to fall for her sister’s neighbor— A married man with a gentle smile, dangerous wealth, and a wife far away. Their affair was meant to be temporary. A distraction. A mistake she would survive. Until he was found unconscious on the floor… And she was the only one left to blame. Stripped of her family, her freedom, and her future, she learns the truth too late: Loving a married man wasn’t her crime. Trusting the wrong woman was. Because the real villain was watching all along.

Chapters

Chapter 3

“Are you crazy? Have you lost your fucking mind?” I yelled.

“Don’t yell at me, Liz. It’s not like it’s a new thing. Girls your age do it these days. So what are you going to do now?”

“You think I would have called your sorry ass if I knew?” I screamed at her.

“You better not yell at me, young lady. I am seconds away from calling the police on you right now.” She paused as I caught my breath. “You owe me a lot of favours, Liz,” she said.

I could hear the sneer in her voice.

“What do you want?” I asked.

“One million dollars.”

“You must be high. I made a mistake calling you,” I said and ended the call.

The phone rang again.

“You better listen to me or I’m going to share this juicy news with every media outlet I know. Your lovely father would be so proud of his daughter. Don’t you think?” she said and cut the call.

I was shaking even more uncontrollably now.

I had panicked and called the wrong person.

How could she?

A knock rapped outside the door and I jumped.

“Who’s there?” My voice croaked.

“Room service,” came the reply.

“We are not done yet,” I replied hastily, pulling the huge duvet over the body on the floor.

“We can’t wait any longer, ma’am. It’s been hours,” the person outside the door replied.

“Well, come back in the next few minutes. We will be done then,” I snapped.

There was a long silence, then receding footsteps.

I had to get the hell out of there.

I peered out of the window again. It was a very risky jump and I wasn’t going to take that option.

His phone began to ring.

Wifey!

Oh Lord. I was doomed!

Another knock on the door.

“What is it?” I asked, irritated.

“The police. Open up, please. We would like to ask you some questions.”

How? Who?

I stared at the door, the option of flying out of the window becoming more appealing as the seconds ticked off.

“Open the door,” the voice sounded even more authoritative.

The phone rang again. Same caller!

What could you….. any of you have done in my situation?

A young mistress with her older lover on a luxurious vacation, then he dies right in the middle of the room.

What would you have done?

Thoughts of Lola and my father’s disappointed face flashed through my eyes.

Viviana’s sneering grin tormented me as I turned the key and let the police in.

I knew I had ruined my life….. just for a pleasure that wasn’t supposed to be mine to enjoy.

I stood motionlessly as the police officer moved his mouth….. asking me about something…… something about Lionel’s wife calling them about her husband not taking his calls since the previous day.

Something about who I was and why I was in his room.

And why had the receptionist told him that we had been checked in as Mr. and Mrs.?

Then his eyes drifted to the mess of broken plates on the floor and I couldn’t even stop him from moving into the suite, and of course he discovered the body.

I was still in a daze when he snapped the cuffs on my wrists and pulled me out of the room.

All I could say was…..

“Call me Lola.”

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The studio felt like a tomb at this hour, all chrome and glass surfaces reflecting the dim security lighting back at me in fractured pieces. My heels clicked against the polished floors as I made my way through the maze of corridors, past darkened offices and silent editing bays. Tomorrow would be the season finale—the culmination of months of work, sleepless nights, and careful orchestration. But tonight, I just needed to retrieve the contracts I'd forgotten in my rush to leave earlier. The security guard had nodded at me with familiar recognition when I'd badged in. "Working late again, Ms. Ryan?" he'd asked, and I'd managed a tired smile. If only he knew how many nights I'd spent in this building, crafting something extraordinary while the rest of the world slept. My office was on the executive floor, but as I approached the elevator bank, I noticed light spilling from beneath Tyler's dressing room door. My steps slowed involuntarily.

Billionaire Modern Romance

8.2

Escape from False Marriage

8.2

The front door swung open with a familiar creak. I knew what was coming before I even turned around. The same performance, the same script, the same cruel charade I'd endured ninety-eight times before. I set down my coffee mug and braced myself, smoothing my trembling hands against my apron. Robert stumbled through the doorway, one hand clutching his temple dramatically. His military fatigues were pristine—too pristine for someone just returning from a dangerous mission. Behind him stood Cassidy Shaw, her hand resting protectively over her belly, eyes wide with practiced concern. "Where am I?" Robert's voice cracked with confusion that I knew was entirely fabricated. "Who are you?" I felt something break inside me—not suddenly, but like the final thread of a rope that had been fraying for years. Ninety-nine times.

Modern Mystery Romance

9.1

Fake Wedding Engagement:The Billionaire's Ruin

9.1

They locked her away for fourteen months so he could marry his mistress. They forgot to make sure she'd stay gone. Nora Hastings was supposed to be dead — or close enough that no one would ask questions. While she rotted in a psychiatric ward she never agreed to enter, her billionaire husband Declan emptied her trust fund, sold her mother's gallery to a demolition crew, and slid an engagement ring onto Maya Croft's finger on national livestream. Now she's back. Sober. Smiling. And carrying a USB drive that could end him before dessert. Declan thinks she came home to beg. He's about to learn three things, in this order: the woman he buried knows where every body is, the rival investor he humiliated last spring just became her ally, and the prenup he forced her to sign has a clause his lawyers never read. By the time he realizes she isn't here to win him back — she's here to watch him lose everything — the board has already voted, the accounts are already frozen, and Maya is sobbing into a phone he won't answer. He begged at her gate in the rain. She stepped over him on her way to the car. A revenge romance for readers who want the apology rejected, the ring thrown, and the empire burned to the ground — slowly, on camera, with witnesses.

Billionaire Modern Romance

8.7

Faking love with ceo

8.7

Lina Carter was just a waitress trying to make ends meet. On the other hand, Alexander Knight was a billionaire who would do anything to safeguard his empire. When he proposes a deal for her to be his fake girlfriend, it seems straightforward, he act like she loves him, stick to the rules, and walk away with a nice payday. No feelings involved. No strings attached. No room for error. But as they share fake kisses, those moments turn into lingering glances. What starts as cold, business-like orders shifts into a quiet sense of protection. Suddenly, the line between pretense and reality begins to blur. Then, out of nowhere, his ex-fiancée reappears-gorgeous, ruthless, and hell-bent on ruining Lina's life. When the truth about their arrangement comes to light, Lina finds herself publicly humiliated, tossed aside as if she never mattered at all. She walks away with her pride shattered, but her heart still whole. Now, the man who once paid her to pretend is realizing he wants her for real. But some betrayals cut too deep... and some love stories start with a lie that's just too painful to forgive. She was brought in to act. He ended up falling for her for real.

Billionaire Modern Romance

7.9

Husband's Lies, Wife's Wrath

7.9

The morning air carried the familiar scent of coffee and ambition as I approached the gleaming glass towers of Peters Corporation. Five years. Five years of building this empire from nothing, of sacrificing sleep and dreams, of pouring every ounce of my Montgomery heritage into making Grayson's vision a reality. The security guard who usually greeted me with a warm smile barely glanced up as I approached the turnstiles. I pressed my access card against the scanner, expecting the familiar beep that would grant me entry to the world I'd helped create. Instead, a harsh red light flashed, and the turnstile remained locked. The scanner's rejection echoed through the marble lobby like a slap. "Excuse me," I said to the guard, my voice steady despite the flutter of unease in my chest. "There seems to be an issue with my card." He looked up then, his eyes avoiding mine. "I'm sorry, ma'am.

Billionaire Modern Romance

8.2

I Dumped My Cheating Husband and Married His Uncle

8.2

My husband slid a velvet box across the anniversary dinner table and told me he'd spent weeks finding the perfect gift. I pressed the brass clasp. The platinum pendant rested on white silk like something sacred. "Turn it over," Julian said. "The craftsmanship on the back." I flipped it. Love Nyla. The copper taste of my own blood flooded my mouth before the scream could. I had bitten down so hard my jaw throbbed, but the dining room stayed perfectly still around me, chandelier light catching the diamonds, Julian refilling his wine glass, unaware his mistress had used him as a delivery man. I excused myself to the restroom and didn't go. The rooftop terrace cut at me with cold wind when I stepped out, clutching the necklace and the photo Nyla had just texted me — Julian's wedding band resting on her bare collarbone, her face angled at the camera like a trophy shot. "Sit down, Harper." Silas Vance materialized from the terrace shadows in a suit the color of ash. Julian's uncle. The man who had built every dollar Julian inherited. The man the city's financial press described in exactly one word: ruthless. He set two documents on the glass table. A divorce petition. A marriage application. "You want me to marry you," I said. "I want the neuro-receptor patent," he replied. "The one you built while Julian took the credit. Marriage is the cleanest legal route." His rough thumb found my wedding band and pressed down, hard, until the metal bit bone. "And what do I get?" I asked. "Revenge." He said the word the way other men say hello — flat, certain, offered without decoration. I reached for the gold pen. But there was something Silas hadn't told me yet. Something about the patent, about the blind spot built into the prenuptial agreement he had drafted, about exactly what kind of woman Julian had accidentally handed the keys to. The ink hit the page. And Julian's empire had less than forty-eight hours left.

Billionaire Modern Romance

LOVING HIM TO DEATH

Chapter 3

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