Married to the Tyrant in a Wheelchair
My boyfriend and stepsister murdered me for my inheritance, their celebratory kiss a final insult above my broken body on the rain-slicked concrete of the port.
As my soul floated inches from my own face, a tyrant the world knew only as a disfigured cripple, Charles Moses, arrived with a team of soldiers.
He ignored my killers, who were now begging for their lives. Instead, he fell to his knees in the mud and blood.
He cradled my lifeless head in his hands, and a gut-wrenching sob of pure agony tore from his throat before he carried my body into the black ocean.
As the water closed over us, I didn't understand. Why did this monster, a man I had never met, weep for me as if I was his entire world?
My eyes snapped open. I was five years in the past, coughing up water in a hospital bed. It was the night my family screamed at me for ruining my stepsister's dress after she'd tried to drown me.
When they offered to marry me off to the "crippled monster" Charles Moses to save my perfect stepsister from that fate, I didn't fight them.
I smiled and said yes.
This time, I would walk straight into the lion's den myself.
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Chapter 1
The cold, damp concrete of the San Pedro Port offered no comfort.
Augustina Osborne floated inches above the ground. She stared down at her own mangled body.
Her flesh was torn, her limbs twisted at unnatural angles. Blood pooled around her head, mixing with the heavy Los Angeles rain.
She reached out to touch her own cheek. The icy raindrops passed right through her translucent palm.
A polished Italian leather shoe stepped into her line of sight.
Jaret Beach, a Wall Street investment banker and the man she once thought loved her, kicked her lifeless arm out of his way. His face twisted in disgust.
"Look at this mess," Jaret complained, his voice barely carrying over the sound of the crashing waves. "She got blood on my custom oxfords."
A few feet away, Kayleigh Hogan leaned against a rusted shipping container.
She pulled a slim cigarette from a gold case and lit it. The flame illuminated her perfectly manicured face.
Kayleigh exhaled a plume of gray smoke into the rain. "I can't believe she was naive enough to think the family trust actually belonged to her. A rat from The Warrens, dreaming of Bel Air."
Jaret stepped over Augustina's corpse. He wrapped his arm around Kayleigh's waist.
They shared a deep, celebratory kiss right above her dead body.
Augustina's soul felt no shock. No surprise. Just the cold, satisfying click of the first puzzle piece falling into place. Everything was happening exactly as she remembered. And exactly as she had planned for.
Suddenly, a deafening roar ripped through the night sky.
The sound of helicopter engines drowned out the rain and the ocean.
Three blinding spotlight beams shot down from the darkness. They locked directly onto Jaret and Kayleigh.
Before they could even pull apart, the screech of tires echoed across the asphalt.
Four armored black Cadillac Escalades smashed through the chain-link fence of the port. They swarmed the area, boxing the couple in.
The doors flew open. Twenty heavily armed men in black tactical gear poured out like ghosts.
Dozens of red infrared laser dots painted Jaret's forehead and Kayleigh's chest.
Jaret's face drained of all color. His black umbrella slipped from his fingers and splashed into a bloody puddle.
The cigarette fell from Kayleigh's trembling lips. Her knees gave out, and she collapsed onto the wet concrete.
A bulletproof Maybach rolled slowly into the center of the spotlights. The engine purred low, like a beast catching its breath.
A man in a tailored suit stepped out of the passenger side. It was Lincoln, a chief executive assistant. He opened a massive black umbrella and pulled open the rear door.
A man stepped out into the storm.
His long legs were clad in dark, expensive trousers. His posture was rigid, commanding, and completely upright.
Augustina's translucent form violently shuddered.
It was Charles Moses. The tyrant of Wall Street. The monster of Blackwood Manor.
The man who the entire world believed was confined to a wheelchair, paralyzed and disfigured from a fire.
Yet here he was, walking.
Charles completely ignored Jaret and Kayleigh, who were now sobbing and begging on their knees.
His dark eyes were locked entirely on the broken body on the ground.
He walked forward and dropped to his knees in the mud. The hem of his bespoke suit soaked up the blood and dirty rainwater.
His large, trembling hands reached out. He cupped Augustina's pale, lifeless face.
A gut-wrenching sob tore out of the cold-blooded billionaire's throat. It was a sound of pure, unfiltered agony.
He leaned down. His shaking lips pressed against her freezing forehead.
When Charles lifted his head, his usually deep, calculated eyes were bloodshot. They held nothing but absolute, destructive madness.
He raised one hand slightly. He gave Lincoln a silent, sharp gesture.
The tactical team moved instantly. They grabbed Jaret and Kayleigh by their hair, dragging them like dead dogs across the concrete.
The couple's screams were muffled as the mercenaries threw them into a heavy steel shipping container and slammed the doors shut.
Charles didn't look at them. He slid his arms under Augustina's ruined body and lifted her against his chest.
He turned away from the cars and walked toward the churning, black ocean.
The freezing waves crashed against his legs, but he didn't stop. The water swallowed them both.
As the crushing pressure of the deep enveloped her soul, the silver cross around her neck-the one Charles had found clutched in her dead hand and placed back on her-flashed with an impossible light. The last thing she felt was his sob echoing not in the water, but in her very essence.
Augustina's soul felt a violent, tearing sensation of weightlessness. The world spun into absolute darkness.
A shrill, piercing beep exploded in her ears.
Augustina's eyes snapped open. She rolled to the side and violently vomited a lungful of water onto the floor.
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9.3
Six years ago, my adoptive family framed me for commercial espionage, stripped me of my identity, and threw me out. Now, I finally returned to the Solis estate as a commercial pilot to take back what was mine.
But the first thing my adoptive mother did was threaten me with that forged evidence again. She demanded I take my sister Kiana's place in a marriage contract with a disabled man, simply because Kiana refused to marry him.
When I refused, Kiana ambushed me at the airport with a mob of reporters. She cried for the cameras, publicly accusing me of causing our father's and brother's deaths. She painted me as a ruthless monster who bankrupted the company and ruined the family. The crowd instantly turned on me, screaming that I was a murderer and a gold-digger. Kiana wanted to completely destroy my reputation so I would have no choice but to submit to her arrangement.
I looked at her fake tears, feeling a cold, absolute fury. How dare she use the tragic deaths of the only family members who actually loved me as a prop for her sick show? They had ruined my life once, and now they wanted to bury me alive.
I didn't hesitate. I slapped her hard across the face right in front of the flashing cameras.
"That was for my father and brother."
Then, my real fiancé, a decorated Delta Force commander, rolled through the crowd in his wheelchair. He tossed a classified Pentagon file to the reporters, completely clearing my name and exposing Kiana's lies. I married him to start my revenge, but as I stepped into his heavily secured penthouse that night, I realized my powerful new husband had been preparing for me for a very long time.
8.7
I was the spare daughter of the Vitiello crime family, born solely to provide organs for my golden sister, Isabella.
Four years ago, under the codename "Seven," I nursed Dante Moretti, the Don of Chicago, back to health in a safe house. I was the one who held him in the dark.
But Isabella stole my name, my credit, and the man I loved.
Now, Dante looked at me with nothing but cold disgust, believing her lies.
When a neon sign crashed down on the street, Dante used his body to shield Isabella, leaving me to be crushed under twisted steel.
While Isabella sat in a VIP suite crying over a scratch, I lay broken, listening to my parents discuss if my kidneys were still viable for harvest.
The final straw came at their engagement gala. When Dante saw me wearing the lava stone bracelet I had worn in the safe house, he accused me of stealing it from Isabella.
He ordered my father to punish me.
I took fifty lashes to my back while Dante covered Isabella's eyes, protecting her from the ugly truth.
That night, the love in my heart finally died.
On the morning of their wedding, I handed Dante a gift box containing a cassette tape-the only proof that I was Seven.
Then, I signed the papers disowning my family, threw my phone out the car window, and boarded a one-way flight to Sydney.
By the time Dante listens to that tape and realizes he married a monster, I will be thousands of miles away, never to return.
7.5
I run my family's political dynasty with an iron fist. From my father’s Senate votes to my own calculated engagement, every move is mine to control.
Then, in a single evening, my ambitious stepmother made her play. She used our housekeeper as a spy and orchestrated a scandal involving my fiancé and stepsister, designed to shatter my reputation and power.
They thought they could break me. Within twelve hours, the spy was dead on the marble floor of my foyer. My fiancé’s family was blackmailed into silence. My stepsister was exiled to a Swiss boarding school, and I stripped my own father of his authority for his weakness.
As for my stepmother, Bronte, I had her declared mentally unstable and forcibly taken to a remote facility in Montana, completely cut off from the world.
Everyone saw a cold-hearted coup, but they didn't know the secret I held. I had proof that Bronte had systematically orchestrated my brother’s death years ago, all to position her own son to inherit everything. This wasn't about power; it was vengeance.
But winning the war at home has put me on a much deadlier board. Now, I'm preparing for a dinner with Eldridge Marsh—the most dangerous man in Washington—who wants to decide if I'm a player he can use, or a threat he needs to destroy.
8.7
At eighteen years old, Estelle is kicked out of the only place she knew as home. With nowhere left to go, she goes toward Club Paradise, a place that offers the basic amenities she lacks: food, clothes, shelter, and a well-paying job.
***
The room was thick with smoke and muted chatter, but the moment Antonio D'Amico's eyes landed on her, the world narrowed to just her.
Estelle froze, heart hammering, as if some unseen force had pulled her into his gaze. He didn't move at first, simply studied her with a cold, calculating intensity that sent a shiver straight down her spine.
One night with him shifts the course of her life forever. Something in him fractures; obsession blooms, dangerous, consuming and he decides to take her away, forever.
***
What will happen to Estelle? Will her fortune finally turn around, or is she about to experience hell... and an unexpected, forbidden bond growing inside the darkness?
8.9
The mangled car teetered on the cliff's edge, my leg crushed, gasoline fumes thick in the air. My husband, Holden, stood safe on the highway, directing the rescue – but not for me. He was saving her, the woman in the passenger seat, leaving me and our unborn child to the ocean below.
I woke trapped in the crushed Maybach, leg pinned. The cliff loomed; the driver's seat was empty.
Holden, safe outside, directed paramedics past me to Giana, his "most valuable asset," ordering her rescue first.
I watched him comfort Giana, oblivious, as the car slid. My baby barely viable. Holden offered a black card for silence; Giana gloated.
Ten years of devotion, a cruel lie. Rage fueled me: how could he abandon his wife and child?
I swore a venomous oath: never again an accessory. I flicked his card away, shielded my pregnancy, and promised my baby escape.
7.1
Perry Lake never believed in fate, especially not when it came to love. To take revenge on her cold, power-hungry father, she broke off her engagement to Richard Scott, the ruthless Alpha of the feared Bloodmoon Pack. Walking away from that world should have meant freedom.
But one impulsive night changes everything.
Perry walked into Richard's room to end things. She never expected to end up in the bed of a stranger-an Alpha who overwhelmed her senses. Even worse, the Moon Goddess has bound them as fated mates.
Now, torn between the desire to escape and the pull of a bond she can't deny, Perry must face a destiny she never wanted-with the man she tried hardest to forget. But can love bloom where betrayal and secrets still linger?