My Dominant CEO
Book 1:
When a temporary job opened up, Jenna, still inexperienced in the workforce, didn't hesitate—she went straight for it.
At first, everything looked like a dream come true. Then, out of nowhere, the rules changed. "Tomorrow, you'll wear lilac underwear!"
The instruction was as weird as it sounded, a tiny detail that promised nothing about this stint would be normal.
Micheal turned heads wherever he went, but there was more to this CEO than just good looks. He carried a secret that would turn Jenna's world upside down.
Book 2:
Apollo's life suddenly flipped around after his wife double-crossed him right at his big brother's wedding.
Just like that, he found himself a single dad, raising six-year-old Ares. Now, Apollo knew one thing for sure: his son needed a mother.
Erin Dixon checked every box—except for her ex-husband, who could give "problematic" a run for its money.
Meanwhile, Milo Lancaster—Adonis's close friend—had his own storm brewing. His family kept pushing him to settle down and produce an heir. "Marriage and kids, Milo!"
But he wanted none of it!
An arranged marriage seemed like the easy way out, at least on paper. Except things got complicated the second he actually started caring about Claudine. Who knew a family tradition could turn into something so unpredictable?
Book 3:
Gustav never expected those old feelings to rush back when he saw Madilyn again after so many years. The spark was still there—too bad she shut him down right away. "I'm with someone else."
But had she truly moved on?
Or was there still hope for something to grow between them?
Chapters
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Chapter 2
What do you want? Her tone was flat—Vasti had no patience left to spare.
Is that really how you greet your boss? He flashed a sideways grin and held the car door open. "Get in."
Vasti glanced at the car, then shot him a look and let out a sarcastic laugh.
Oh, right. Of course, she said, already pulling out her phone to call a taxi, completely ignoring his order.
Get in, he said again, this time with more authority. "I'm serious. It isn't safe out here."
Thanks, but my safety isn't your problem, she replied, cool and dismissive. "Besides, you look pretty dangerous yourself. I don't even know you!"
Vasti twisted her mouth in irritation. Was this guy really Mr. Gonzalez? Unbelievable! The nerve to kiss her after whatever stunt he'd pulled with that blonde in the bathroom. The thought made Vasti's skin crawl.
Miss… he started, his tone shifting.
No way! After what happened in the bathroom, getting into a car with you sounds like a terrible idea, Vasti replied, forcing a tight smile.
She couldn't deny the kiss had sent her reeling, but he didn't need to know that—and letting it happen again would just be asking for trouble.
He stepped closer and gently covered her hand, stopping her from tapping her phone.
Please, he said, voice suddenly serious. "I promise I'll be on my best behavior."
Vasti hesitated, glancing between him, the car, and the empty street. During the day, this place buzzed with people, but once night fell, it turned deserted—and she was fully aware of that. Staying here alone wouldn't be smart. Besides, security cameras lined the area—he wouldn't risk pulling anything stupid. They'd know exactly who he was.
Fine, she said at last. Vasti brushed past him and slid into the passenger seat. He shut the door for her, and she buckled her seatbelt, waiting as he circled around to the driver's side. She didn't know much about cars, but this one practically screamed money—the leather seats were buttery soft, the dashboard was loaded with touch controls, and there was even a sleek onboard screen.
He got in, adjusted a few settings, and started the engine.
After a few minutes of silence, he finally spoke, eyes fixed on the road.
You're pretty rebellious, you know that?
What's that supposed to mean? Why do you say that? Vasti raised an eyebrow.
It's the way you talk back, he said. "Not just now—back in the bathroom, too."
The mention of the bathroom made her cheeks burn. She stared down at her hands for a second, but quickly forced herself to look straight ahead. No way was she going to let him see her flustered.
That wasn't rebellion, she replied evenly. "I was just standing up for myself. And as for saying no, it's not like I owe you obedience."
He smirked. "You mean, you don't owe me obedience."
We're not at work, she shot back. "So, no. Not you."
He laughed, low and genuine.
Like I said—rebellious.
Vasti turned to the window, noticing they were already close to her neighborhood. Suddenly, it hit her.
Wait… I never told you where I live.
No need, he replied, quick and casual.
What's that supposed to mean? You planning to just drive in circles all night? she asked, suspicion creeping in.
I know where you live, Miss Vasti.
He shot her a brief look before pulling up near her building.
Vasti stared at him, startled. He used her full name, yet she still had no idea what his was.
How do you know my address? she asked, her voice suddenly tight, a flicker of panic in her chest.
You work for me. HR has all your details, he answered, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
She eyed him skeptically.
So, you memorize the address of every employee under you? That's impressive. Her sarcasm was thick.
He unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to face her, eyes locked on hers.
Only the ones who interest me.
His gaze never wavered—dark, intense, as if he was seeing right through her, undressing every layer she had left.
Thanks for the ride, Mr…? she prompted, hoping he'd finally give her a name.
Good night, Miss Cortez. He stared at her, all business.
He clearly understood what she wanted, but he wasn't budging. As far as he was concerned, she should already know—he was her boss, after all. The fact that she didn't seemed to annoy him.
Your name? Please, she pressed, refusing to let it go. Vasti knew the company belonged to someone named Gonzalez, but she'd never caught this man's first name, even though he'd worked on her floor and clearly outranked her.
Do you even know my title in the company? he asked, one eyebrow raised.
Actually, no. I have no clue who you are—other than the guy who fired me and then said I could have my job back. How's that supposed to work, anyway? Did you really get in touch with Mr. Gonzalez at this hour?
He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a whisper at Vasti's ear.
Adônis MacGyver, he murmured, pausing for effect. "Adônis MacGyver. President of the company." He winked.
The warmth of his breath sent a shiver down her spine. She caught herself sighing and mentally cursed her own reaction.
Oh, God… The devil himself! Get it together, Vasti. Breathe.
Good evening, she said, barely above a whisper as she reached for the door handle—but he caught her wrist, stopping her.
I'll have to teach you some manners, young lady. It's 'Good evening, sir.' He fixed her with a look. "You'll learn."
He stole a quick kiss, then finally let her go. Vasti climbed out, legs still trembling.
And Miss Cortez? he called, making her turn. "Lilac."
He rolled up his window and drove off, leaving her rooted to the spot, staring after his taillights long after they vanished.
Insane! What the hell did he mean by 'Lilac'? she muttered.
Meanwhile, inside the car, Adônis MacGyver grinned to himself.
So, she wants to play games? he mused. "Let's play. She's absolutely gorgeous. Maybe…"
Back at home, Vasti seethed with frustration. She couldn't stop thinking about how that man—Adônis MacGyver—had gotten her fired in the first place.
Earlier That Day...
Vasti had started her temp job in high spirits. It wasn't permanent, but it was enough to help cover her grandmother's medical bills, and right now, that money was a lifeline.
While heading to HR, she'd bumped into a strikingly handsome man—who'd turned out to be rude as hell. She'd brushed it off, not giving it much thought. Later, when she stopped to get a glass of water, she barely had time to turn around before someone bumped her from behind. The water sloshed out of the cup and soaked her blouse.
You again? came the man's voice, laced with annoyance. She glanced up. It was the same man from before!
He eyed Vasti's dripping blouse, then shot her a look that reeked of irritation. He raised a brow and brushed past Vasti, his expression twisted in obvious disgust.
Vasti, trying to cover herself, hurried off to the restroom. So much for thinking he was good-looking—he was an absolute jerk!
Of all the people in this building, he just had to work on my floor, she fumed.
Before she could settle into her chair, Heidi—the supervisor and her trainer—called her into the office.
Yes? What's going on? Vasti knocked gently before entering.
Heidi rubbed her hands together and bit her lip, clearly uncomfortable. Vasti's chest tightened with dread.
Oh, I don't even know how to say this, Heidi said, her voice wavering. "But… I'm just following orders, alright? You're fired."
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9.1
Kaitlyn thought she was living a happy life with her husband Martin, until that night when she overheard his conversation with his mistress on the phone. Her world changed in an instant, especially when she learned that the woman was carrying Martin's child, while she had struggled to have a child in the four years she spent with him.
Then she discovered she was pregnant too, but a cruel plot was set against her. Kaitlyn was thrown in prison, and her husband sent her divorce papers without giving her a single chance. She lost one of her twins during childbirth, suffered, and lost everything.
Until that moment when Douglas, her husband's former rival, offered her a marriage contract. A way to take revenge and reclaim what was stolen from her by those who put her in prison, destroyed her life, and killed one of her twin children.
What will Kaitlyn do when the truth comes out? When she learns that Martin Thompson's mistress is none other than her closest friend Ashley? When she uncovers the full conspiracy against her and realizes that the death she witnessed was faked, the very reason she ended up in prison?
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.
7.1
My husband, tech billionaire Amir Carter, was a god in Chicago. For five years, he was the perfect husband, and I, a pediatric doctor, believed I had finally tamed the infamous playboy.
But when my brother Keon needed an urgent heart transplant, everything fell apart. The donor Amir found was a young singer-exactly his type.
On the day of the surgery, as my brother was dying, I found my husband comforting her.
"Don't pressure her, Blake," he said. "She's delicate."
Then the call came. My brother was dead. Amir didn't even notice, annoyed that I was stressing out his new project.
He pushed me down a flight of stairs, crashed his car into my taxi to protect her, and gave her the last gift my brother ever made for me.
He saw me bleeding on the floor and walked right past, his only concern for the woman who let my brother die. My fairy tale was a lie. I was just another one of his seasonal projects, now completed and discarded.
He took everything from me. So I signed the divorce papers, refused his millions, and vanished. Now, he's left alone with the truth: he killed my brother, and he didn't even know it.
9.5
Rebirth. Revenge. Romance.
In her past life, Delia was blind to love. Betrayed by her cousin and ex, she discarded her "crippled" husband Curtis-only to die disfigured and alone.
Now she's back.
This time, she tears up the divorce papers and clings to Curtis's side-only to discover he's not weak at all. In fact, when he rises from his wheelchair, the world bows.
"You're mine-body and soul," he growls, his voice like velvet and steel.
She's the one seducing him now-until he's addicted, crazed, and can't live without her.
She'll crush her enemies, reclaim everything they stole, and love the man who once gave her the world.
This time, she'll give him back everything-and more.
8.7
My stepmother sold me like a piece of inventory to a man known for breaking people just to plug the financial crater my father left behind. I was delivered to the Morton estate in the middle of a freezing storm, stripped of my phone, and told that if I didn't make myself useful, my senile grandfather would be evicted from his care facility by noon.
The master of the house, Adonis Morton IV, was a monster living in a silent mausoleum, driven to the brink of madness by a sensory condition that turned every sound into a physical assault. When I was forced into his suite to serve him, he didn't see a human being; he saw a source of agony. In a fit of animalistic rage, he pinned me to the wall and nearly strangled me to death just for the sound of a shattering teacup.
I only survived by using my grandfather’s secret herbal blends and pressure-point therapy to force his overactive nervous system into a drugged sleep. But saving him was my greatest mistake. Instead of letting me go, Adonis moved me into a guest suite connected to his own bedroom by a hidden door. He didn't just want me as a servant; he needed me as a human white-noise machine to drown out the demons in his head.
The nightmare deepened when he took the promissory note that defined my freedom and tore it into confetti. By destroying the debt, he destroyed my exit strategy. He replaced my maid’s uniform with a silver silk dress that clung to my skin but did nothing to hide the dark, ugly bruises his fingers had left on my neck. He branded me as his "primary care associate," a title that was nothing more than a gilded cage.
I felt a sickening sense of injustice as he forced me to sign a contract that banned me from contacting other men and required me to sleep wherever he slept. He looked at me with a possessive heat, calling me his "medication" rather than a woman. My family had sold my body, but Adonis Morton was intent on owning my very presence, using my grandfather’s medical bills as a leash to keep me within twenty feet of him at all times.
Standing in a neglected greenhouse with mud staining my expensive silk, I realized I was no longer a victim waiting for rescue. If I was going to be his medication, I would learn how to be his cure—or his undoing. I began clearing the weeds with a cold, calculated frenzy, determined to turn this prison into my laboratory. He thinks he has trapped a helpless girl, but I am going to pry open the cracks in his stone walls until his entire world comes crashing down.
8.1
My fiancé, Connor, and I had a one-year pact. I'd work undercover as a junior developer in the company we co-founded, while he, the CEO, built our empire.
The pact ended the day he ordered me to apologize to the woman who was systematically destroying my life.
It happened during his most important investor pitch. He was on video call when he demanded I publicly humiliate myself for his "special guest," Jaden. This was after she'd already scalded my hand with hot coffee and faced zero consequences.
He chose her. In front of everyone, he chose a manipulative bully over our company's integrity, our employees' dignity, and me, his fiancée.
His eyes on the screen demanded my submission.
"Apologize to Jaden. Now."
I took a step forward, held up my burned hand for the camera, and made a call of my own.
"Dad," I said, my voice dangerously quiet. "It's time to dissolve the partnership."