Lust Behind Closed Doors
Behind every locked door lies a secret... For Elena, it's the hunger she hides from her cold and distant husband. For Adrian, it's the forbidden desire he feels for the one woman he should never touch-his stepmother.
What begins as stolen glances and teasing remarks quickly spirals into something dangerous. Behind closed doors, guilt turns into obsession, lust turns into fire, and the line between right and wrong disappears.
But how long can they keep their dirty secret before it explodes, tearing the family apart?
A forbidden romance dripping with passion, danger, and irresistible temptation.
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Chapter 2
The grandfather clock in the hallway struck midnight.
Elena lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, sheets twisted around her body. Sleep was impossible. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Adrian's smirk, felt the ghost of his breath against her ear, heard that sinful question again.
Do you miss being touched?
Her thighs pressed together instinctively. Shame curled inside her, but so did heat. She couldn't stop thinking about him-about the way he'd looked at her, as if he could strip her bare without ever lifting a finger.
She groaned softly and pushed the covers away. Maybe a glass of water would cool her down. Maybe walking through the quiet halls would clear her mind.
Padding barefoot down the hallway, she wrapped her silk robe tightly around herself. The marble floor was cool against her skin as she descended the staircase and slipped into the kitchen.
The mansion was silent, except for the faint hum of the refrigerator. She reached for a glass in the cupboard, her robe shifting to reveal a long stretch of her thigh. She poured water and lifted it to her lips.
"Can't sleep either?"
The glass nearly slipped from her hand. She spun, her heart leaping into her throat.
Adrian leaned casually against the doorway, shirtless this time, a pair of grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips. The soft kitchen light carved shadows across the ridges of his chest and abdomen, every line of muscle sharp and defined.
Elena's mouth went dry.
"Adrian," she whispered, clutching the glass like a lifeline. "You scared me."
His lips curved into that familiar smirk. "Didn't mean to. I was just... thirsty." His gaze dropped deliberately to the glass in her hand, then slid lower, over the edge of her robe where it gaped slightly at her chest.
Her skin burned. She tugged the fabric tighter. "There's water here."
He didn't move toward the cupboard. Instead, he stepped closer to her. "Pour it for me?" he asked softly, his voice almost mocking.
Her hand trembled as she reached for another glass. She filled it with water, then held it out to him.
Adrian's fingers brushed hers as he took it, slow, intentional. Her pulse spiked at the touch, her breath stuttering.
"Thanks," he murmured, his eyes locked on hers as he tipped the glass back and drank. A bead of water slid down the corner of his mouth, tracing the line of his throat before disappearing beneath his chest.
Elena's gaze followed helplessly, her lips parting.
Adrian noticed. His smirk deepened. "See something you like?"
Her breath hitched. "Adrian-"
He set the glass down on the counter with a soft clink. In one smooth movement, he closed the distance between them, his body towering over hers. The counter pressed into the small of her back as he leaned down, his face inches from hers.
"You're tense," he whispered, his hand braced on the counter beside her hip. "Relax."
She shook her head, words tangled in her throat. "This isn't right."
"Doesn't feel wrong." His gaze burned into hers, then dipped to her lips. "Tell me you don't want me to touch you, Elena. Tell me, and I'll walk away."
Her chest rose and fell rapidly. Her lips parted, but no sound came. The truth lodged in her throat, heavy and suffocating.
Adrian's eyes darkened. Slowly, deliberately, he lowered his hand until his fingers brushed the edge of her robe, tracing the fabric near her thigh. Not quite touching-just enough to make her tremble.
Her knees weakened. Heat pooled between her legs, her body screaming for something her mind knew she shouldn't want.
"Say it," he whispered, his voice rough now, edged with hunger.
Her lips quivered. "Adrian... we can't..."
He smiled wickedly. "You didn't say you don't want it."
His fingers ghosted higher along her thigh, the robe parting slightly under his touch. Elena gasped, clutching the counter for support.
At the last moment, he pulled away. His smirk was smug, dangerous, triumphant.
"Goodnight, Elena," he said softly, echoing his words from earlier.
And just like that, he turned and walked out, leaving her breathless, trembling, and aching.
Elena sank against the counter, her heart pounding out of control. She pressed her thighs together, desperate for relief, but it was useless.
Her stepson was dangerous. He knew exactly what he was doing.
And worse-so did she.
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7.8
Alexis signed the divorce papers, leaving her with no assets, no alimony, and just the clothes on her back.
To forget her abusive husband Carlos, she got drunk and bought a high-end gigolo for the night with her last 800 dollars.
But the man she slept with wasn't an escort. He was Jarrett Hughes, a ruthless billionaire CEO.
And while she was gone, her ex-husband was busy destroying her entire life.
Carlos framed her with fake photos of her cheating to justify the penniless divorce.
Then came the real nightmare.
Carlos and her own aunt secretly drained her family's corporate accounts, driving her father to jump off a building.
At the hospital, her grieving mother blamed her for the tragedy, violently attacking her in the ER.
To top it off, her cousin Josie—who was secretly sleeping with Carlos—held her father's ashes hostage.
"Crawl on your knees and pick it up, or the ashes go in the river," Josie sneered, throwing cash into the freezing slush.
Stripped of her marriage, her father, and her dignity, Alexis sat bleeding in the snow.
She couldn't understand why the people she loved most had coordinated such a brutal slaughter against her.
But Carlos and Josie made one fatal mistake.
They didn't know the "gigolo" Alexis had accidentally bought was the most powerful man in New York.
Alexis looked at the towering billionaire standing behind her, a vengeful fire burning in her eyes.
"I need you to get my father's ashes back," she said, pulling him into a kiss right in front of her ex-husband. "I don't care what it takes."
8.5
Synopsis
It still feels so unreal being dumped by my boyfriend at the courtyard on the day of our wedding.
David didn't show up and when I called him to know the reason why.
He told me right to my face that he had found love with another woman who happened to be my best friend.
My heart was shattered into a million tiny pieces.
I was wallowing in self-pity when I overheard Lucas talking on the phone about needing a replacement for the woman who has collected a part-payment to be his wife.
I agreed to be his wife without thinking twice wanting to get back at my Ex.
What would happen when two strangers' hearts intertwined?
And what started as an arrangement became a bedrock for something real?
Read to find out.
7.2
Blaire woke up in a Manhattan penthouse, her body covered in bruises and her innocence stolen.
Before she could process the terror, her adoptive sister Danita burst in, acting heartbroken and accusing Blaire of shamelessly seducing the powerful Kamryn Lane. Kamryn threw a one-million-dollar check at Blaire's bleeding face, calling her a calculating gold digger.
That night, Blaire overheard a conversation in the family study that shattered her entire reality.
"Once she gives birth to the Lane family's seed, we'll stage an accident, drain her blood, and transplant her healthy heart into your chest."
Her adoptive mother and Danita were celebrating the success of their trap. She wasn't an adopted daughter; she was a living organ bank and a disposable surrogate. Even her adoptive brother, Calhoun, knew everything, trapping her in the dark hallways with a sick, possessive obsession to ensure she never escaped.
The horrific truth suffocated her. The family that had taken her in had raised her like livestock for slaughter. How could they smile at her every day while planning to carve out her heart?
Terrified but burning with a desperate will to survive, Blaire swallowed a Plan B pill to ruin their surrogate plot and fled the estate. To get the money and power she needed to crush her adoptive family, she pulled out Kamryn Lane's business card. This time, she would make a deal with the devil.
8.3
Imogen Montgomery was the perfect billionaire heiress, deeply in love and ready to marry her fiancé, Clark Ellis.
That all ended the night her cousin Kathleen ripped the sapphire pendant from her neck and pushed her into a pool of toxic chemicals to die.
Two years later, Imogen's eyes snapped open. But she didn't wake up in a hospital. She woke up tied to a stained mattress, trapped in the battered body of Briana, a teenage girl from the slums who had just been sold to a local trafficker.
After violently fighting her way out of a cheap motel, she discovered the horrifying truth. Kathleen had taken over the Montgomery Group. She had locked Imogen's grieving parents away in a psychiatric facility as prisoners.
And worst of all, Kathleen was now flaunting her stolen wealth online, preparing to marry Clark.
A wave of pure, white-hot rage boiled in her blood. Kathleen had murdered her, stolen her family, and was playing the perfect grieving cousin. How was she supposed to fight back? She was just a runaway nobody now. If she tried to expose the truth, Kathleen's security would shoot her dead in the street.
She needed a weapon. She needed a shield. She needed the one man Kathleen feared.
Covered in mud and blood, Briana intercepted Clark's car in the freezing rain. She was going to infiltrate his home as his vulgar, unhinged fake mistress, and she would drag Kathleen straight down to hell.
7.5
Five years ago, Alisson Ford's adoptive family drugged her and offered her to a repulsive old investor to save their failing company.
She escaped the trap, only to accidentally stumble into the bed of Jake Yates, the most terrifying and powerful billionaire in the city.
Months later, while she was painfully giving birth to triplets in a freezing basement, her adoptive sister Bella tracked her down. Bella violently snatched Alisson's firstborn son to pass off as her own ticket into the Yates family. Then, Bella smiled as her men poured gasoline over the mattress and set the room on fire, leaving Alisson and her two remaining newborns to burn alive.
Shielding her fragile babies with her own blistering skin in the roaring inferno, Alisson's despair turned into absolute, blood-soaked hatred. She couldn't fathom how the family she had trusted for years could steal her flesh and blood and condemn her to such a horrific death.
Five years later, Alisson returns to the city as a powerful trauma specialist. She steps right into Jake and Bella's grand engagement banquet, watching coldly as her five-year-old daughter runs straight up to the untouchable billionaire and hugs his leg.
"You are a bad daddy! You abandoned Mommy and us, and now you are going to marry an ugly old witch!"
9.5
Janet woke up gasping, the phantom fire of a deadly explosion still scorching her lungs. She had been reborn three years in the past, on the exact day her mother forced her into a marriage contract with Gaylord Bradford, a paralyzed and severely disfigured billionaire.
Before she could even process her second chance, her cousin Kandy kicked the bedroom door open, flaunting a massive diamond ring. Kandy, who had also been reborn, smugly announced she had stolen Janet's Wall Street golden boy fiancé, Jax Adler.
"You're going to marry that paralyzed monster," Kandy spat, gloating that she would build a billionaire dynasty with Jax while Janet wiped drool off a rotting corpse. Kandy expected Janet to have a complete mental collapse, completely unaware that Gaylord's own medical team was secretly injecting him with lethal neurotoxins to finish him off.
But Janet only felt a cold, clinical pity. Kandy's "prophetic" memories were a polluted lie. Jax was actually sterile and dying of irreversible kidney failure, while Gaylord wasn't a dying freak—he was a dormant god whose body was merely in a high-dimensional hibernation. Why would Janet mourn losing a doomed fraud?
Leaving her delusional cousin behind, Janet packed her bags and headed straight to Gaylord's maximum-security military cell. She physically tackled his corrupt doctor, drove three bio-electric silver needles into the crippled king's spine to awaken his deadened nerves, and looked him dead in his glacial blue eye.
"Sign the marriage contract," Janet whispered. "I will make you walk again, and we will take back everything."