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 4
The first thing I felt was the light.It pierced through the sheer curtains and kissed my bare skin, forcing my eyes open.
For a moment, I couldn't breathe.
The ceiling above me wasn't mine. The scent in the air wasn't familiar. Everything around me screamed wealth and danger polished marble floors, soft silk sheets, the faint hum of an expensive air conditioner, and the distant sound of water dripping somewhere.
I blinked again, trying to make sense of it. "Where am I?"
The room was far too luxurious to belong to anyone I knew - white and gold walls, an ornate chandelier, floor-length curtains swaying lazily with the morning breeze. The bed I lay on was massive, draped in satin sheets that smelled faintly of sandalwood and something darker... something masculine.
My heart started to race.
Then the horror hit me.
I was completely naked.
"W–what..." I gasped, clutching the blanket to my chest. My whole body ached every muscle stiff, every nerve raw. When I tried to sit up, a sharp pain between my legs made me freeze, my breath catching in my throat.
My mind began to race. What happened?
And then, like a storm crashing through my thoughts, flashes of last night slammed into me.
A dark room. Music. The heat of his breath on my neck. Fingers tracing down my spine. The deep rumble of a voice I couldn't forget. The way he touched me firm, possessive, yet careful, like he already knew every inch of me.
The taste of his lips. The sound of my own breathless moans echoing in the dark.
My entire body shivered as the memory grew sharper, too vivid to deny.
And then I remembered his scent. Strong. Overwhelming. Wild. It wasn't just any man's scent. It had that commanding power that could only belong to one kind of wolf.
An Alpha.
I froze. My eyes widened, and I pressed my palm over my mouth. No... it can't be. I couldn't have slept with an Alpha.
I didn't even remember his face properly. Everything had been too dark, too rushed, too desperate. But I remembered his eyes - glowing faintly in the shadows, green like liquid fire. His voice still echoed in my head when he whispered my name like a secret.
And now, I was lying naked in a strange hotel room, reeking of his scent.
Tears welled up in my eyes. "What have I done?" I whispered, shame and panic curling through my stomach.
I forced myself out of bed, my legs shaking as I moved. My clothes were everywhere my skirt hanging from a chair, my blouse tossed across the floor, and my underwear torn slightly at the seam. My hands trembled as I picked them up, dressing in silence. I didn't dare look at the bed again.
There was no sign of him. The room was empty, cold, silent. But his scent still lingered - so potent that it made my heart race all over again.
I had to leave.
Before anyone saw me. Before I had to face what I'd done.Grabbing my purse, I slipped out of the room quietly, my pulse pounding in my ears as I rushed through the hallway and out into the sunlight.
When I reached home, the sun was already high in the sky. My father sat in the living room, a bottle of whiskey in his hand as usual. His eyes were dull, his jaw tight. The faint smell of alcohol filled the air.
He didn't even glance up when I entered.
"There's news for you," he muttered, taking another gulp. "Came from the pack house."
I stopped, confused. "The pack house?"
He only waved me off, uninterested. I frowned, remembering that I had sent in a job application a few weeks ago. Maybe this was about that.
But the thought barely settled before my chest began to tighten again memories from last night creeping into my head like smoke. *What have I done?*
I bit my lip hard, forcing back tears, and walked toward my room. I needed to think. To breathe.
Once inside, I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the floor. Everything felt heavy , my body, my heart, my soul. I thought of Lucas, my boyfriend, the Alpha's son. His arrogant smirk. His lies. The betrayal I'd witnessed when I caught him with another woman.
That was the night everything fell apart. That was the night I ran straight into the arms of a stranger.
And now, this morning, I was paying the price.
"No more crying," I whispered to myself. "You can't undo what's done. You have to move forward."
I changed into a simple dress, tied my hair back, and headed toward the pack house. My father's words still echoed in my mind. News for you. I just hoped it was something good - something that might distract me from the mess I'd made.
As I approached the small office building behind the mansion, I noticed the Gamma standing by the door, a faint smile on his face.
"Kiera Gray?" he asked.
I nodded nervously. "Yes?"
He beamed and handed me an envelope with the pack's seal stamped on it. "Congratulations. You got the job."
My eyes widened. "I- I did?"
"Yes. The Alpha approved it personally," he said. "You'll be working directly at his company headquarters, starting Monday morning."
My hands trembled as I took the envelope. "Oh my goddess," I whispered.
I quickly tore it open and unfolded the letter inside. My eyes darted across the elegant handwriting.
> Congratulations, Ms. Kiera Gray.
> You have been selected to work as the personal secretary to CEO Damon Jordan.
For a few seconds, I just stood there, staring at the paper, unable to process it.
The Alpha's company? His personal secretary?
My throat went dry. "T–the Alpha himself?" I asked faintly.
The Gamma nodded. "Yes. It's a great opportunity, Kiera. You should be proud. Not many get that close to the Alpha."
I forced a small smile, though my stomach twisted painfully. "Yeah... I guess so."
As he congratulated me again and walked away, I stood there frozen, staring at the letter in disbelief.
This wasn't what I expected. I'd wanted a simple position something quiet, something small. Not a job that would place me directly under the most powerful man in the pack.
And yet, a strange chill ran through me as I reread his name.
Damon Jordan.
Why did that name stir something deep inside me?
Why did it make my heart race the same way it did last night . when that stranger whispered my name in the dark?
I shook the thought away. No. It can't be. I didn't even know the man's name.
Still, I couldn't stop the unease curling in my stomach.
What if... by some cruel twist of fate... the Alpha I'd just been hired to work for was the same man who'd held me last night?
I swallowed hard, clutching the letter to my chest. "Get a grip, Kiera," I whispered to myself. "You're overthinking. It was just one night. You'll never see that man again."
But deep down, something in me knew that wasn't true.
Because fate never let go so easily.
And whatever had begun that night... was far from over.
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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."