
Mated To My Ex's Father ( Alpha Damon)
It all started with one encounter.
One night with a man whose touch felt like sin and whose scent still haunts my skin.
I never meant to fall - but when I caught my boyfriend, the Alpha's son, cheating on me, something inside me broke.
And that's when he found me - a stranger cloaked in dominance and danger. His hands promised ruin, his lips whispered damnation.
I gave in. Just once.
Or so I thought.
Now, I've been hired as the Alpha's new secretary.
And when I walked into his office, the world stopped.
Because he's not a stranger.
He's him.
The man from that night.
The man I should have never touched.
The father of my ex.
I tell myself I can resist him - that I can keep my secret buried. But every time his gaze lingers, every time that deep, commanding voice wraps around my name, my resolve burns away.
This isn't love.
It's an obsession. Possession. Darkness disguised as desire.
And I know one thing for sure - once an Alpha sets his eyes on you...
He never lets go.
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Chapter 2
Today was my last day in college. I graduated from one of the most prestigious Alpha colleges in the city. Even though I wasn't an Alpha or even his daughter, my father was a respected retired Beta , still holding power amongst the pack members.
I should've felt proud. I should've felt like I'd finally made him proud.
And I was happy... I really was.
I wanted everything to be perfect. I ordered a set of sexy undergarments and a short red dress. Even though I was usually shy, quiet, the invisible girl in the crowd tonight, I wanted to look beautiful. For him.
For Lucas Jordan my boyfriend, the Alpha's heir, the man I thought loved me.
I imagined the look in his eyes when he saw me. I imagined his smile, his strong arms wrapping around me, his deep voice whispering "I'm proud of you, Kiera."
I held onto that thought as I rushed out of the taxi, clutching the bottle of wine I'd bought for our celebration. My heart was racing, fluttering like I was about to live the moment I'd dreamed of for years.
The night air was cool, brushing against my bare legs as I hurried to his private villa. I knew the passcode by heart I'd typed it in a hundred times before.
But the moment the door clicked open...
my entire world shattered.
I froze.
For a second, I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think.
Because right there, in the middle of the room tangled in white sheets and broken promises was Lucas.
My Lucas.
And beneath him was another she-wolf.
Her moans filled the room, sharp, breathless, obscene. His hands gripped her hips the same way they'd once held me. Their bodies moved together, their rhythm violent and cruel.
The bottle slipped from my trembling hands, crashing to the floor.
The sound made them stop.
Lucas turned his head lazily, a smirk curling on his lips, while the she-wolf beneath him blonde hair, tanned skin, the kind of woman I'd always envied only laughed.
"Fuck," she whispered against his ear, loud enough for me to hear. "You didn't tell me your little pet might walk in."
Lucas chuckled low, dark, mocking.
He didn't even look guilty.
"Guess she needed to learn a lesson," he said, his voice like poison.
"L-Lucas..." My voice cracked. "W-What is this?"
He got off the bed, completely unbothered, his naked body still glistening with sweat. The she-wolf didn't even try to cover herself; she only stretched, smiling at me like she'd already won.
"What does it look like, Kiera?" Lucas said, smirking as he stepped closer. "I got bored. You were always so fucking boring quiet, shy, too afraid to even look me in the eyes when I touched you."
My chest tightened. "I..I loved you."
He laughed. "You thought you did. But what did you ever give me, huh? You don't even know how to please a man. You're just a Beta's daughter good for nothing except wagging your tail and pretending to be special."
The she-wolf laughed, sliding off the bed and walking up behind him, her hands trailing over his chest. "Maybe she should watch, Lucas," she purred. "Maybe she'll finally learn what a real woman does."
Lucas looked at me, eyes glinting with something cruel. "Yeah," he said slowly, voice dripping with venom. "Watch, Kiera. Watch and learn how a real woman behaves in bed."
My heart stopped.
My vision blurred.
I didn't even realize I'd started crying until the taste of salt hit my lips. I wanted to scream, to hit him, to make it all stop but my body refused to move.
They started kissing again right in front of me. Loud, rough, deliberate.
Something inside me snapped.
"Stop it!" I screamed, my voice breaking. "Lucas, please!"
He turned his head just enough to look at me, smirking as he said, "You can leave now, Kiera. You've seen enough. Or stay and learn, maybe then you'll finally be worth something."
The words cut deeper than any blade.
My knees gave out. I clutched the edge of the doorframe, gasping, choking on the sobs that tore through me.
I wanted to hate him.
I wanted to die.
I wanted everything to end right there.
But through the tears, through the ache ripping through my chest, I saw something her smirk. His arrogance. Their laughter.
And suddenly... my tears slowed.
I wiped my face, trembling, my voice low and hoarse as I whispered, "You'll regret this, Lucas Jordan."
He raised a brow, mocking. "Oh? The Beta's daughter's going to make me regret it? You can barely look me in the eye, Kiera."
I forced myself to meet his gaze.
And for the first time, I didn't look away.
"I may be a Beta's daughter," I said quietly, my voice shaking but steady enough, "but you just broke the wrong heart."
His smile faltered just for a second.
Then I turned around and ran.
The rain outside greeted me like a storm waiting to swallow me whole. It poured hard, cold and merciless, soaking through my thin dress in seconds.
I didn't care.
I ran barefoot down the street, my mascara mixing with the rain, my breath coming out in ragged gasps. I screamed until my throat burned, until the sound of my heartbreak was drowned by thunder.
The pain was too much.
The betrayal, unbearable.
But somewhere between the sobs and the storm, a single thought burned in my chest hotter than the rain, sharper than the ache.
He would pay.
He would pay for every tear, every humiliation, every broken piece of me he left behind.
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8.7
I arrived at the hotel with Julian's favorite takeout, ready to surprise my fiancé before our big merger. But the moment I swiped the keycard, the silence of the hallway felt heavy and wrong.
Inside, a red-soled stiletto lay on the marble floor-the same one I'd watched my best friend Lila try on at Saks last week. Through the cracked bedroom door, I watched Julian's back arch as Lila looked me straight in the eye and smiled, wrapping her legs tighter around him to mock my heartbreak.
I fled to the penthouse to hide, only to find Grafton, Julian's "crippled" brother, waiting in the dark. To my horror, the man who was supposed to be paralyzed stood up from his wheelchair, gripped my chin with cold fingers, and forced me to sign a contract that gave him control of my family's shares. He knew about my mother's secret medical bills and used them to buy my silence, effectively turning my life into a calculated game of corporate chess.
The betrayal tasted like acid, and the injustice of it all burned in my throat. My fiancé was a liar, my best friend was a thief, and the man now controlling my fate was a predator who had been faking his disability for years.
I couldn't understand how everyone I trusted had turned out to be a monster. I was trapped between a man who cheated on me and a man who wanted to own me, with no way out and no one to turn to.
But when Julian came looking for me, Grafton didn't hide; he stood tall, looming over me with a possessive glint in his eyes. "Help me destroy Julian," I rasped, realizing that to survive the Faulkner men, I had to become the most dangerous player of them all.

7.7
"Tristan! Help!" I called out his name again. It was not a scream but a command.
He didn't even flinch. "You know the rules, Juniper," he said, his voice fearfully calm. "I don't touch you. Don't use a fall to trick me into breaking those rules."
....
But this mess is over.
I'm done playing love with him. I'm returning to the Vangough seat. And as for the man who was allergic to my touch, he's just about to find out how much it hurts when I finally let go-and take my empire with me.
Tristan wants a divorce. But I'll give him a battle he will never be able to endure.

9.7
Some chains are forged in iron.
Others in desire.
Sebastian Kol has existed for six centuries. Cursed to burn alive in his own skin every night he transforms into a beast even he cannot control. He wants one thing. Freedom. And after five centuries of searching, a prophecy finally gives it a name.
Leilani Ravenwood.
She carries the mark of the moon goddess on her skin and a prophecy that brands her as his salvation. Her blood silences his beast, and her touch sets him on fire.
In the worst possible way. And in the best possible way.
Furious at the hold she has over him, Sebastian takes her, strips her of everything, and bends her world until it breaks, determined to own what the goddess dared to use against him. What follows is dark and consuming. A monster who has never met his match, and a woman who proves to be it.
But Leilani Ravenwood does not break easily. And somewhere between the hatred and the hunger, the punishment and the pull, the ancient beast begins to suspect the terrible truth.
The woman born to be his salvation may already be his undoing, his poison and cure wearing the same skin.
And he is running out of reasons to care.

7.5
She was dead. Or at least, that's what they thought. Now, five years later, Ivy Richardson stood at her own grave, ready to face the man who put her there.
Ivy, in a custom coat, stood at her cold, black marble gravestone. "Beloved daughter and fiancée," the inscription read—a cruel joke mirroring her heart's wasteland.
A gravedigger dropped his shovel, face ashen. Trembling, he pointed, gasping, "Oh my God... you look exactly like her." He saw a ghost; Ivy was alive.
She paid for silence. Then, Clayton, her former fiancé, appeared, shaking: "Ivy? Where have you been?" She crushed his cheap lilies, her lethal gaze replacing the girl he'd abandoned.
He snarled, blaming her, justifying her "Do Not Resuscitate" order for his mistress, Ainsley. Ivy's cold laugh mocked his pathetic lies.
"Fiancé?" she echoed, revealing her new wedding ring. "That title expired when you signed the DNR... and Ainsley was watching, wasn't she?" With an icy "Go to hell," Ivy left him slipping in the mud.

7.6
I woke up to the suffocating smell of copper and sulfur, my fingers wrapped around a blood-soaked leather whip.
Hanging from an obsidian cross in front of me was a boy with silver hair and dead, golden eyes.
His pale chest was torn open to the bone.
I recognized those eyes immediately. I had spent three years describing them on my laptop.
He was Kamari Monroe, the tragic, overpowered protagonist of my own web novel.
And I wasn't just a bystander. I was Benedict Guerrero, the sadistic academy headmaster. The ultimate villain.
A reel of images flashed in my mind: my original ending. Kamari, fully awakened, skinning me alive and burning my soul in a furnace for forty-nine days.
My loyal attack dog, Gideon, stepped forward with a basin of glowing green liquid.
"Headmaster, let me wake him up with this bone-rot acid so you can resume."
If that acid hit Kamari, his hatred would become permanent. My gruesome death would be sealed.
But if I broke character and apologized, the magical world would sense the shift, and Kamari would just think it was a sicker, more twisted trap.
How was I supposed to survive a death sentence I wrote myself?
I couldn't show weakness. I had to play the monster to survive.
Suppressing my terror, I smashed the acid basin, healed his ruined flesh with agonizing dark magic, and lied straight to his face.
"Someone had to be the monster to push you into the fire."
This time, I will rewrite my own fate.

8.2
What if a succubus was sent to love the most broken, obsessive men across parallel worlds?
Isabelle Henderson is a high-level succubus who feeds on pure, intense human emotions-especially love. When she's recruited by a mysterious system to replace heroines who've abandoned their stories, she finds herself thrust into one dark romance after another.
Her mission? Make the yandere (lovestruck, obsessive) male leads fall for her. Completely. Irrevocably. Forever.
But these aren't ordinary men:
A genius investor who hasn't slept in five years, tormented by hyperthymesia and trauma
A violent mob boss with skin hunger who hates being touched-until her
A wheelchair-bound heir with suicidal thoughts and a dark secret
A high school god with split personalities who both want her
A disfigured medical genius with severe mysophobia (fear of germs) who can't stand anyone-except her
The twist? Unlike the original heroines, Isabelle isn't here to fix them. She's here to want them. Every twisted, possessive, obsessive part.
Because the purer the obsession, the sweeter the feast.
"They call it sickness. I call it dinner."