Mark & Alex
Mark Windsor, Australia's most feared and respected CEO, has built walls as high as his empire. After losing his parents, the only warmth left in his life comes from Mary Smith, the woman who cooks his meals and feels more like home than family ever did.
When Mary's son Alex visits the estate, Mark doesn't expect the sharp-tongued, smiling graduate to unsettle him. Alex doesn't expect to fall for the man who owns the house he lives in or the company he refuses to work for.
Forced proximity, secret glances, late-night conversations, and quiet meals slowly turn into something dangerous. When Alex finally joins Mark's company on his own merit, love becomes a risk neither of them can afford.
In a world where reputation matters more than truth, Mark and Alex must decide if love is worth the fall.
Chapters
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Chapter 1
Alex's POV
I didn't expect the house to look like this.
I mean, of course I knew it would be big. My mum works for Mark Windsor, the richest CEO in Australia. A man whose name appears in business news the way rain appears in weather forecasts constantly and without apology. But knowing something and seeing it are two very different things.
The black iron gates slid open soundlessly as the car rolled forward, revealing an estate so immaculate it looked unreal. Trimmed hedges. A driveway wide enough to land a helicopter. A house that wasn't a house so much as a quiet statement of power.
I swallowed.
"Stop staring, Alex," Mum said lightly from the driver's seat. "You'll make yourself nervous."
"I'm not nervous," I lied.
She smiled, the kind of smile that meant she knew better but loved me anyway.
This wasn't my first time here but it was the first time I was coming without a suitcase, without the excuse of a short visit. Graduation was over. Job applications were unanswered. And Mum had insisted I come stay with her for a while.
"Just until you find your footing, she'd said".
Which was Mum-code for: I'm worried about you, and I miss you.
The car stopped near the side entrance. The one staff used. Mum parked neatly, as always, and turned off the engine.
"Remember," she said, turning to face me. "You're my son, not his employee. Be polite. Be yourself. And don't argue."
"I don't argue," I said.
She raised an eyebrow.
"I debate passionately."
She laughed, reaching over to squeeze my hand. "Come on."
Inside, the house smelled like lemon polish and something warm, her cooking, probably. The floors gleamed. Everything echoed faintly, like the walls themselves were listening.
Cleaners moved quietly through the space, nodding respectfully to Mum as we passed. She greeted them by name. They smiled at her the way people smile at someone who belongs.
That was the first thing that made my chest tighten.
My mum fit here.
We reached the kitchen, her kitchen and there it was again. The comfort. The rhythm. The way she moved like this space was an extension of her body. Pots already simmering. Ingredients prepped. Apron hanging where she always left it.
"You can put your bag in your room later," she said. "I need to finish lunch."
"Need help?" I asked automatically.
She paused, then smiled. "Always."
I tied an apron around my waist, muscle memory kicking in. Chopping. Stirring. Tasting. The silence between us was easy.
Until it wasn't.
"You're early," a voice said from behind me.
Low. Calm. Controlled.
I froze.
Not because I was scared but because something in that voice settled straight into my spine.
I turned slowly.
Mark Windsor stood at the kitchen entrance, sleeves of his crisp white shirt rolled to his forearms, dark hair perfectly in place, posture relaxed in a way that didn't ask permission.
He was taller than I expected. Broader. Not flashy handsome but commanding. The kind of man who didn't need to raise his voice because the world leaned in when he spoke.
"Mum," I said quietly, because my brain had short-circuited.
She beamed. "Mark, this is my son. Alex."
His gaze shifted to me.
And stayed there.
Not rudely. Not obviously. Just long enough for my pulse to trip over itself.
"So," he said. "You're the famous Alex."
"Only in my own head," I replied before thinking.
Mum gasped softly. "Alex."
But he didn't look offended.
He smiled.
It wasn't wide. It wasn't playful. It was brief but it was real. And somehow that made it worse.
"Nice to finally meet you," he said. "Mark."
He stepped forward and extended his hand.
I wiped mine quickly on my apron before shaking his. His grip was firm. Warm. Intentional.
Something passed between us.
I didn't know what it was, but I felt it all the same.
"You're staying," he said, not a question.
"For a bit," I answered. "If that's okay."
His eyes flicked to Mum, then back to me. "You're family. Of course it's okay."
Family.
The word landed heavier than it should have.
"I'll finish this up," Mum said quickly, sensing something I didn't yet understand. "Alex, why don't you show Mark what you added to the sauce?"
She was setting me up.
I gave her a look. She ignored it.
Mark stepped closer, peering into the pot. "You cook?"
"Enough not to poison people."
His lips twitched. "High standards."
I shrugged. "I was raised by her."
He hummed softly. "That explains it."
There was no judgment in his tone. Just appreciation.
I didn't know why that mattered to me but it did.
Lunch passed quietly. Too quietly. Mark sat at the head of the table, composed, attentive. He asked me about university. About my degree. About what I wanted to do next.
I answered honestly. Carefully.
"I don't want handouts," I said at one point, meeting his gaze. "If I work, I want to earn it."
Something unreadable crossed his face.
"I respect that," he said.
Mum watched us like she was watching a play she already knew the ending to.
After lunch, Mark stood. "I'll be in my study."
He paused, then looked at me again. "Alex, welcome."
Not to the house.
Not to the estate.
Just welcome.
As his footsteps faded, Mum exhaled loudly.
"Well," she said. "That went better than I expected."
I leaned against the counter, heart still racing. "He's... intense."
She smiled softly. "He's lonely."
I didn't know why that sentence stayed with me.
But it did.
And as I carried my bag upstairs later into the ground-floor room that would be mine, I realized something unsettling.
Mark Windsor hadn't just noticed me.
He'd seen me.
And for reasons I didn't yet understand, I knew my life had just shifted quietly, irrevocably around the man my mother worked for.
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7.0
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Now, she is a top maxillofacial surgeon, and Jarred Mcknight has returned as the ruthless CEO of Wall Street's most powerful corporation.
Their worlds collide in the ER, but Jarred isn't alone. He is accompanying his rumored heiress fiancée.
His eyes are pure ice. He treats Alaina with a suffocating, clinical detachment, fiercely protecting the heiress from Alaina's medical examination. The professional slap in the face shatters Alaina's heart all over again.
Later, at an exclusive restaurant, Jarred catches Alaina on a miserable, forced blind date. Still believing she left him for money and status, he publicly mocks her for working herself to the bone just to climb the ladder.
Her sleazy date, humiliated by the billionaire's sheer dominance, turns his bruised ego on Alaina. On the dark street outside, the lawyer aggressively grabs her arm, trying to force himself on her.
Alaina thought Jarred despised her. She thought he had completely moved on, leaving her to drown in the memories of the future they never had.
But why did Jarred suddenly explode from the shadows like a lethal predator, brutally snapping the lawyer's wrist just for touching her?
Pinning her trapped against the cold brick wall, Jarred's dark eyes burn with a terrifying, unhinged possessiveness.
"Is this the kind of garbage you date now?"
The eight years of separation mean nothing. The billionaire hasn't let her go, and this time, there is no escape.
7.1
"When she no longer believed in promises or happy endings, love crossed entire worlds to show her that magic still existed." Laura C.
Unexpected designs... Or simply capricious games of fate. A human who thinks she has lost all reason to live plunges into a world of fantasies and fangs that make her be born again. A story full of passion, fantasy, vampires, and other species that will make you shudder... Read with me and let your imagination reach wherever Valentin will take you.
8.4
I was the "diamond" of the Sargent Foundation, a perfect orphan polished for the cameras and high-society galas. But beneath the glittering chandeliers, I was suffocating. When the pressure finally broke me and I tried to flee the Sargent Gala, I wasn't met with comfort. I was hunted down by security and dragged into a sterile, white-hot spotlight in a room I was never allowed to enter.
Adrien Sargent, the cold-blooded CEO who controlled my every move, didn't want to help me. He wanted to devour me. He presented a legal cage: sign over my voting shares for his unethical hostile takeover, or he would have my only friend—the elderly butler who raised me—killed in his nursing home bed.
I became a prisoner in the East Wing, stripped of my phone and watched by hidden cameras. During a midnight storm, I tried to steal a security card to escape, but Adrien caught me in his study. Reeking of whiskey and corporate rage, he didn't just stop me. He pinned me to his desk and branded my neck with a bite so deep it bruised, treating me like a thief who deserved to be claimed.
The next morning, the house turned into a battlefield of lies. His PR consultant tried to claim she was the one in his bed, but Adrien found a pearl button from my pajamas under his desk. He didn't feel guilt; he felt violated. He accused me of orchestrating the entire encounter to blackmail him, his eyes filled with a terrifying, possessive fury.
When his grandmother caught us, she didn't see a victim; she saw a liability. To save the family stock price, she gave us an ultimatum: marriage.
"I’ll do it," I said, looking at the massive diamond ring that felt more like a shackle. Adrien thought he had finally broken me, but he didn't know about the encrypted file I just received. The corporate crisis he’s fighting was an inside job, and the trail leads straight to his own front door.
I looked at my new husband on our wedding night and let my silk dress hit the floor. He thinks he’s trapped a rabbit, but I’ve just gained total access to his world. I will sleep with the enemy, learn every dark secret he’s hiding, and then I am going to burn his empire to the ground.
7.1
Warning: R18+
His pierced cock thrust deep, the metal barbell dragging along my G-spot with every relentless stroke, sending shockwaves that made me scream his name. I came again hard, squirting around him while he growled "mine" and filled me bare, hot pulses claiming every inch inside me.
Thirty minutes earlier I'd been drowning in heartbreak and gin at a Mayfair club.
Now I was unraveling in a billionaire's penthouse, owned by a stranger whose name I still didn't know.
One forbidden night.
No names. No promises.
Or so I thought.
One reckless night with a stranger ignites a billionaire's obsession.
Elara thought it was over at dawn.
Damian Blackwood doesn't let go.
When her world crumbles, he offers salvation-with strings: Become his contract wife.
One forbidden night becomes a lifetime of possession...
8.9
BLURB
Lena Hale thought heartbreak couldn't get worse until she walked into a luxury restaurant with a Christmas gift in her hand and found her boyfriend on a date with another girl. Broken and humiliated, she flees home for the holidays, hoping her mother's new marriage will give her a quiet place to recover.
Instead, she walks straight into a nightmare.
Her cheating ex, Bryce Carter, is waiting at the mansion...
as the beloved nephew of her new stepfather.
And her new stepbrother, Cassian Ward, the cold, quiet son who sees too much and says too little can't seem to look away from her.
Trapped together for Christmas, Lena is forced to face the boy who broke her and the man who's slowly undoing her in ways she doesn't understand. Bryce wants her back. Cassian wants her safe. And Lena wants to forget she still feels anything at all.
But secrets run deep in the Ward family...
and desire runs deeper.
And this Christmas, falling for the wrong brother might be the most dangerous mistake she's ever made.
9.0
For a whole year, April believed her billionaire husband, Bartholomew, abandoned her in Europe the day after their arranged wedding. She hated him so much she drunkenly prayed for his death at a club.
But he suddenly returned that very night, catching her red-handed. Instead of a divorce, he trapped her, threatening to bankrupt her bloodsucking family unless she moved into his penthouse to play the devoted wife.
Forced to comply, she attended a dinner with her toxic family. Her stepmother deliberately served her lobster—knowing April had a fatal allergy.
"Eat up, darling. I know hospital food is dreadful."
When April refused and exposed their massive gambling debts, her furious father raised his hand to strike her across the face.
But it was Bartholomew, the ruthless tyrant she despised, who caught her father's arm and snapped his wrist.
"If you ever try to touch my wife again, I will erase your family by sunrise."
April was completely stunned. Why was he defending her with such murderous rage? And why did he keep a cheap paper airplane she had made at age six preserved under a glass dome in his study?
The answer came that night. When Bartholomew stepped out of the shower, April saw the massive, jagged surgical scar sliced directly over his heart. He hadn't run away; he had been fighting for his life on an operating table. Staring at the man who had silently survived just to come back to her, April made her choice. She was going to uncover the truth behind his surgery and their past.