My Mother's Cruel, Blind Heart

I sacrificed five years of my life for my comatose mother. When she finally woke up, she looked right through me. She embraced my estranged stepfather and a strange girl, calling her daughter. I was cast aside like trash, forced into the servant's quarters and left to eat from the garbage. My new "sister" even set her dog on me. As the dog tore at my arm, I locked eyes with my mother. She watched for a moment, then slowly pulled the curtains shut. In that moment, my hope shattered. I was nothing to her. A problem to be ignored. But as a social worker led me away to foster care, a black car screeched to a halt. My grandfather stumbled out, clutching a DNA report, his face ghost-white. His eyes, wide with shock, locked onto mine. "My God," he gasped. "Aisha... you're my son's real daughter. My granddaughter."

Chapters

Chapter 5

Augustus Winters POV:

The world spun. My meticulously ordered universe imploded. My granddaughter. Aisha. The girl I had just seen crumpled on a hospital bed, abandoned and forgotten, was my son' s child. My blood.

The doctor' s words hammered in my head, echoing the conversation I had just had. "Mr. Winters, our preliminary paternity tests on Christopher and Kaylee Phillips show no biological relation. Further, medical records from Deborrah Rose' s hospital stay five years ago confirmed that Christopher Winters was effectively sterile due to a childhood illness… We had an old blood sample from your son on file. And the full genetic profile of Aisha Henderson, taken just yesterday… it' s an undeniable match, Mr. Winters. Aisha is Christopher' s biological daughter."

No. It couldn't be. All those years. All the effort to distance Christopher from Deborrah' s "trailer trash" past, to make sure he had a proper heir with a proper woman. And all along, the rightful heir, my own granddaughter, had been suffering under our roof, treated worse than a stray animal.

"Turn the car around!" I roared at my driver, my voice shaking with a tremor I couldn't control.

My assistant, sitting beside me, looked confused. "Sir? The gala begins in an hour. Doria is expecting us."

"Damn the gala!" I snapped, my eyes fixed on the retreating form of Aisha, being led into an unmarked social services vehicle. My granddaughter. My blood. "Find her! Find Aisha! Get me her location, now!"

The driver, startled by my ferocity, executed a sharp U-turn, tires squealing. We sped back towards the hospital, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs.

We burst into the emergency room. "Where is she? Where is Aisha Henderson?" I demanded of the first nurse I saw.

The kind nurse from earlier, her face now etched with concern, recognized me. "Mr. Winters! I tried to contact your family. Aisha was discharged. The social worker just took her. To foster care."

My stomach dropped. Foster care. Because of us. Because of Doria' s cruel rejection. A wave of gut-wrenching regret washed over me, so potent it stole my breath. I had been so blind. So utterly foolish.

"Find her," I choked out, turning to my assistant. "Use every resource. Whatever it takes. Find my granddaughter."

My phone buzzed. It was Kaylee. Her shrill voice grated on my nerves. "Grandpa! Where are you? The party' s starting! And Christopher said you were bringing me my special present!"

My assistant, ever practical, gently reminded me. "Sir, Doria is already upset… and the investors are all present. It could be detrimental to the company if you don't show up."

My fists clenched. The party. The gilded cage of my own making. I had to go. But I would not forget. "Fine," I bit out. "But get me updates every five minutes. And tell that social worker Aisha is not to be moved without my explicit instruction. Not an inch."

The mansion was ablaze with light. Music drifted lazily from the grand ballroom. Guests mingled, their laughter tinkling like crystal. Doria met me at the entrance, her face a mask of disapproval.

"Augustus, you' re late," she chided, her voice sharp. "And looking like you' ve just wrestled a bear. This is a celebration, not a funeral."

Before I could reply, Kaylee darted forward, her face alight. "Grandpa! My present! Where is it?" She held up a small, velvet box. "Christopher said you picked it out! Is it the diamond pendant?"

My eyes, still reeling from the revelation about Aisha, flickered to the box. Then to Kaylee' s greedy, expectant face. It was the ancestral pendant. The one passed down through generations of Winters women. My mother' s, then Doria' s. It was meant for my rightful heir. For Aisha.

A cold rage, unlike anything I had ever felt, simmered within me. This gilded prison. These shallow, grasping creatures. They had stolen my granddaughter' s birthright, her love, her very identity, and given it to this… this pretender.

Kaylee, oblivious, chattered on. "And Aisha, that awful girl, she' s gone, right? Christopher said she tried to make Mom sick again. She' s such a nuisance. Always interfering. I told her she' s just trash."

The words, so casually cruel, hit me with the force of a physical blow. Trash. My granddaughter. Treated as trash. While this parasitic child reaped the rewards. A wave of nausea, sharper than any I had felt in years, swept over me. The opulent ballroom, with its glittering chandeliers and smiling faces, suddenly felt suffocating. Every laugh, every clink of crystal, a mockery.

Kaylee, noticing my silence, continued to prattle, tearing open the velvet box with gusto. She gasped in delight as the diamonds glittered. "Oh, it' s beautiful! Thank you, Grandpa! You always get me the best things!"

Doria beamed. "Such a perfect fit for our little princess. A true Winters, through and through."

My vision blurred. Augustus's face was pale, his jaw tight. He watched as Kaylee, preening, turned to a passing servant. "Take this dog bowl away immediately! It's been near... her. I don't want it in my sight. Disgusting."

The young servant, flustered, stammered, "But, Miss Kaylee, this is for Zeus, not-"

"I said take it!" Kaylee shrieked, her face contorting with petulant rage. "And everything she touched! Burn it! Destroy it! I don't want any of her filth here! She ruined everything!"

A low growl rumbled in my chest. It wasn't the sound of a man. It was the sound of a patriarch, pushed to his absolute breaking point.

"ENOUGH!" I roared. The single word sliced through the laughter, the music, the polite hum of conversation. Silence fell, thick and immediate, like a velvet curtain dropping. Every head in the ballroom turned. Every eye was on me.

Continue to next part

I watched my husband sign the papers that would end our marriage while he was busy texting the woman he actually loved. He didn't even glance at the header. He just scribbled the sharp, jagged signature that had signed death warrants for half of New York, tossed the file onto the passenger seat, and tapped his screen again. "Done," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. That was Dante Moretti. The Underboss. A man who could smell a lie from a mile away but couldn't see that his wife had just handed him an annulment decree disguised beneath a stack of mundane logistics reports. For three years, I scrubbed his blood out of his shirts. I saved his family's alliance when his ex, Sofia, ran off with a civilian. In return, he treated me like furniture. He left me in the rain to save Sofia from a broken nail. He left me alone on my birthday to drink champagne on a yacht with her. He even handed me a glass of whiskey—her favorite drink—forgetting that I despised the taste. I was merely a placeholder. A ghost in my own home. So, I stopped waiting. I burned our wedding portrait in the fireplace, left my platinum ring in the ashes, and boarded a one-way flight to San Francisco. I thought I was finally free. I thought I had escaped the cage. But I underestimated Dante. When he finally opened that file weeks later and realized he had signed away his wife without looking, the Reaper didn't accept defeat. He burned down the world to find me, obsessed with reclaiming the woman he had already thrown away.

Horror Modern Romance

8.6

Falling For The Biker: The Vice President's Girl

8.6

"Do you feel that, Wren? That pull between us?" His eyes darken, flicking to my mouth. "It's wrong. Your brother would slit my throat for even standing this close. But tell me, little bird-" his breath ghosts against my skin, "-are you trembling because you hate me... or because you've wanted this as much as I have?" >>> Wren thought she'd left the chaos of New Orleans behind; the club life, the blood-soaked loyalty, the men who lived and died by their kuttes. Seattle gave her everything she could ever want-freedom, love, a future. But one betrayal sends it all crashing down. Dragged back home by tragedy, Wren finds herself under the watchful eye of Ezra Jax, the vice president of the Raven Reapers MC, and her brother's best friend. He's infuriating, dangerous, and far too tempting. But the deeper she's pulled into his world, the more she realizes that nothing about her past or Ezra, is what she thought. Yet in the chaos of gang wars, debts, and betrayals, he's the one who never leaves her side. The more she fights him, the harder she falls. And the more he pushes her away, the more dangerous his pull becomes. Because in this world, love isn't sweet. It's brutal, bloody, and bound to break them both. When loyalty is everything and love can cost your life, will Wren risk her heart on the one man she was never meant to love?

Billionaire Horror Romance

7.8

My Alpha Turns Into a Monster at Night

7.8

He's dangerous at night. Unstoppable under the moon. But when the monster wakes, I'm the only one he kneels to.

Horror Werewolf

7.3

My Mad King's Love, Forever Mine

7.3

For a thousand years, the Vora beastmen have been cursed by a madness-a burning sickness in their blood that only one thing can soothe: the legendary 'Blood-Blessed,' a human female whose very scent is a living cure. When a virus wiped out nearly all females, their desperate hunt for this mythical girl turned into a brutal conquest. They crushed our fallen human kingdoms, reducing us to breathing meat under their cruel "Livestock Codex." To save my little sister from being branded for their elite breeding auction, I took her place in the male-only death draft. Disguised as a boy, I was thrown into a pitch-black labyrinth, a living sacrifice meant to feed their ultimate nightmare: the feral, half-dragon Mad King. He tore our steel cage apart like wet paper. I pressed my back against the freezing wall, watching in horror as he slaughtered the screaming men around me. He ripped the filthy coat from my body, exposing my true gender. As his crimson eyes locked onto my throat and he opened his jaws for the kill, my rage burned away my fear. I was a pureblood heiress of a dead empire, but I would not die cowering like an animal. I gripped a shard of glass, ready to aim for his eye. But as he lunged, the glass sliced my palm. The moment my blood hit the air, the legend became my reality. The sweet, intoxicating scent that flooded the dark wasn't just my pheromones-it was the living cure. The terrifying, apocalyptic tyrant froze mid-strike. He dropped his massive body to his knees, his fangs retracting as he gently, desperately licked my bleeding hand. His chaotic red eyes darkened with an absolute, world-ending obsession as he pulled my fragile body against his burning chest. "Mine." I was meant to be his final meal. They called me the Blood-Blessed. He called me his Queen.

Fantasy Horror Romance Vampire

9.7

Once His Nightmare, Now His Employee

9.7

He thought he had his life figured out until the boy he buried in the past walked back in. Dorian Keene was once the golden boy of high school-famous, feared, and cruel. And Caspian Vale? Just the quiet nerd with a birthmark... and a target on his back. But beneath Dorian's bullying lay a truth he couldn't face: he was terrified of how much he wanted the boy he was supposed to hate. Years later, Dorian's world is in shambles. Penniless, grieving, and sick, he lands a miracle job working under a Tech Mogul who turns out to be none other than Caspian. Only this Caspian is powerful, untouchable... and very much engaged to a woman. Dorian tries to keep his distance. Caspian, for all appearances, is straight. But fate has a twisted sense of humor, and buried sparks are reignited-this time under the harsh light of adulthood, secrets, and slow-blooming desire neither man can afford. As Dorian's hidden illness grows deadlier, and Caspian's mask begins to crack, a single kiss will force them to ask: Can a man who thought he was straight handle the truth of who he's always been... before it's too late?

Horror LGBT+Mystery Young Adult

8.1

Return Of The Lethal Unwanted Heiress

8.1

Allison was hiding in a dusty small-town garage, working as a mechanic to suppress the lethal, experimental serum freezing her veins. But a call from her estranged, wealthy father shattered her peace. He threatened to permanently freeze her dead mother's trust fund if she didn't return to the family estate immediately. That trust fund held the only key to the truth behind her past and her survival. When she stepped into the sprawling mansion in her faded hoodie, her family treated her like a stray dog. Her stepmother mocked her cheap clothes, and her half-brother called her a piece of trash. Her father tossed a vocational school enrollment form at her, telling her to learn to sew so they could marry her off to anyone desperate enough. Her perfect, porcelain-doll stepsister Gwyneth even deliberately smashed a glass of boiling milk against her own leg. "Why did you push me?!" Gwyneth screamed, crying tears of fake terror to frame Allison. "You vicious bitch! You're just as sick as your mother!" her father roared, raising his hand to strike her. They looked at her with absolute disgust, thinking she was just a stupid, uncultured hick they could easily manipulate and destroy. They had no idea that the girl standing before them was a lethal operative who already possessed all their offshore tax ledgers and darkest secrets. Allison easily caught her father's wrist mid-air, her grip like a steel vice. "I'm not going to a trade school," she whispered coldly, ripping the form into pieces. "I am going to Crestwood Academy." It was time to take back everything that belonged to her, with interest.

Billionaire Horror Modern Sci-Fi

My Mother's Cruel, Blind Heart

Chapter 5

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