On My Brother's Bed
"You walked into my room, Astrid. No bra. No panties. What did you expect me to do? Pray?"
"I expect you to look away."
"Look away?" he chuckled in a low, dangerous tone as he trod toward me. "Baby, I've looked away for damn five years."
~
When Astrid returns home for summer, she's expecting chill nights and zero drama.
Except her brother's best friend–Rhett Rivers–is crashing at their house. And he has grown into every bit of the trouble she shouldn't want.
One time at a party leads them to an unforgettable one nightstand
What if Astrid Cole realizes she'd not just had sex with her brother's best friend but also let him touch her in some kind of way she never felt?
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Chapter 2
Chapter 2
Astrid's POV
The music was booming so loud I could feel it in my entire body.
I should've turned around when we walked into the house party, but Talia had already pulled me in by the hand, grinning ear to ear like it was her wedding day.
"You need to have fun for once," she shouted over the music. "For goodness sake, you got back to LA just yesterday. Let loose."
Maybe Talia was right. After the awkward charger incident with Rhett the night before, my brain had been fried. I needed this.
I needed distraction, music, crowds. Anything but him.
The living room was packed with sweaty bodies and cups lifted up as cheers followed. A fog machine was going for some reason, and lights strobed across dancing faces.
We were at a frat party Talia had introduced me to.
I tried to relax on a chair, but I felt bare. I couldn't even think of anything.
"Astrid!" Talia shoved a drink in my hand. "Vodka. Don't waste it."
I nodded and took a slow sip. It was strong. Too strong I coughed and laughed at once.
I wasn't much of a drinker but trying it out once a while wouldn't bring any harm. Would it?
Talia grinned. "You're welcome."
When I finished drinking, Talia took my hand and pulled me to the dancefloor as we followed the rhythm of the songs that played.
It was enough to make me loosen myself, to forget about the tension I felt the first time I arrived. I let go of my hoodie, let my hair out of its burn, and I started to enjoy myself.
Then I felt a prickle–like heat sliding down my spine. I turned and saw Rhett.
He was across the room. Half-shadowed in the corner of the staircase. He wore a black shirt over his chest, his arms crossed and eyes pinned directly on me.
Dammit.
My blood immediately ran cold. And then hot. All at once.
What the heck was he doing here?
I didn't even have to ask. He looked furious as his brows knitted tightly. And those eyes–those dark eyes that once looked soft in the glow of my brother's hallway–were now hard and burning.
Rhett Rivers started walking to me.
"Talia," I whispered, grabbing her wrist. "I have to go."
"Wait, what? You just got here." Talia argued, still dancing.
"Now."
Rhett reached us before I could explain to Talia.
"Astrid," he called, his voice low and calm.
Talia stopped dancing and stepped back instinctively.
"What are you doing here?" I hissed.
"Micah told me to always check on you. I didn't expect to find you half-dressed and drinking at some stranger house." Rhett answered.
I looked down. For Pete's sake, I was only putting on a crop top and jeans. Nothing wild.
I frowned slightly. "I'm not half-dressed. And you don't get to talk to me like that."
Rhett's nose scrunched up as he scanned around as if something irked him. Then his gaze fell on me again. "Get your things. We're leaving."
"No."
"Now. Astrid."
He didn't shout. His presence was enough. The way people moved aside as he trod closer.
Instantly, his hand curled around my wrist firmly.
"Rhett, let go of me." I retorted as I tried to wriggle out of his grip.
He leaned in. "Do you want me to cause a scene?"
I wanted to argue and push him away. But I knew it'd only felt like pushing on a wall.
I nodded slowly and followed him out.
*
The ride back to the house was silent and tense.
Rhett's hands gripped the wheel tight, his jaw clenched. I stared out the window, my arms over my chest. I pretended I didn't care that he'd just pulled me out of a party like some overbearing...Brother? Friend? Guardian? None of it fit. Because what I felt when he looked at me didn't belong in any of those boxes.
He parked in a driveway and turned off the engine, but didn't move immediately.
The silence sat between us for a moment. Finally, I turned, tipsily.
"What are we doing here?"
No response.
"You didn't have to embarrass me." I added.
He looked at me, his voice quiet but deep. "You shouldn't have been there, Astrid."
"So what? You're my dad now?"
His hand curled into a fist on his thigh. "Micah would lose it if he saw you dressed like that, drinking like that. With others staring."
"Micah's not here." I corrected.
"Yeah," Rhett muttered. "And that's the problem."
I stared at him as my heart pounded.
He wasn't looking at me like a big brother. He wasn't even looking at me like a friend.
He was looking at me like a man trying to hold himself back. And failing.
Before I could think, he moved fast as his hand came up to my face, his warm fingers brushing hair from my cheek.
"You don't get it, do you?" he said, voice tight. "Micah left you in my care. And now I need to watch every movement of yours.
My breath caught. I didn't speak.
He leaned in, just close enough that I felt his breath on my lips.
"The next time you'd go out dressed like that, I'll make sure that will be the last dress you'll find in your closet."
"What?"
Without a word, he leaned in, just close enough that I felt his breath on my lips.
"Say stop. And I will." he whispered.
I swallowed the lump in my throat as my gaze slid down to his lips.
Those damn kissable lips.
I didn't.
Neither did he.
The moment his lips slammed into mine, everything blurred.
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7.7
Bella arrived New York City with ambitions, goals and desperate hunger to escape poverty. Raised by her single poor mother along side beloved sister Emily, Bella believed the only way to succeed and save her family from the ruthless hands of poverty was education.
After countless denial and rejection letters, she finally gained admission into one of the most prestigious universities in the country. What she doesn't realize is that stepping foot into that campus would pull her into a dangerous world of obsession, wealth, and power She never knew existed.
Benson Vale is everything Bella despised, Arrogant, untouchable and born into privilege.
As the heir to a billionaire empire, Benson is being forced to get married in order to acquire his inheritance something he dreaded with passion, but Bella crashed into his life and his tightly controlled world starts to unravel.
Lurking in the background is Angella Browns, Benson's childhood friend and the campus self proclaimed queen bee. Obsessed and possessive Angella would do whatever it takes to keep Benson all to herself even if it meant destroying Bella's life to pieces.
When tragedy strikes and secrets begins to unfold, Bella and Bensons relationship are bounded together by a dangerous DEAL - one that could either save or destroy them both.
As danger draws closer Bella must not only fight for justice but also uncover the truth behind her sisters death and choose Whether love was meant to survive in a world filled with Wealth, Power, and betrayal.
It was never meant to be love until fate made them collide.
8.4
Palermo does not forgive.
Neither does it forget.
When Guerrero Valenti, the feared leader of the Vikings, vanished, the city exhaled a dangerous calm-but only for a moment. In the shadows, enemies waited. Rivals sharpened their knives. And one woman bore a secret that could ignite every street in the city.
Lucia Romano carried the child of a man who had disappeared into legend and rumor. A son who had not been claimed, not protected, not named.
The city whispered of him with venom: the bastard of the Vikings.
The boy was fragile, but he was a storm waiting to erupt. And every night, Palermo tested him. Masked men tried to snatch him from his crib. Fire, steel, and blood became his lullabies. Yet he survived. Every threat only sharpened his instincts, every scream hardened his mother's resolve.
But whispers spread faster than steel through the night-rumors of a man returning. A shadow that would claim everything, sparking fear in every heart:
Guerrero Valenti.
The father who abandoned him.
The legend whose name alone commands obedience.
The storm that will rise, carrying vengeance, blood, and fire.
And when he comes,
Every man who dared call the bastard his enemy will fall.
Every street, every roof, every whispered corner will bow to the son of Guerrero Valenti or be washed in blood.
This is the story of survival.
Of fire and steel.
Of a mother and her son.
Of a father's return.
Even the earth is getting ready to absorb blood ... the blood of those who call the legitimate son of the Vikings a "BASTARD", and collect necks........the necks of those fallen by the sword of GUERRERO VALANTI.
And upon his return Heads will bow to the one they called a BASTARD .
8.3
I was the "crazy girl" my family sent to a survivalist commune in Utah to rot. Four years later, I returned to Manhattan with a titanium USB drive and a heart full of ice, ready to blackmail the one man who could burn my family to the ground.
But I underestimated how much they hated me. My fiancé, Preston, was already laundering money through my inheritance and sleeping with my replacement. He didn't even flinch when I showed him the evidence of his crimes.
Instead, he grabbed me by the shoulders, smashed my phone, and shoved me out of his moving Lincoln into a midnight storm. I hit the wet pavement hard, my knees scraping against the asphalt as I watched him drive away, laughing about how I was a "dirt-poor exile" that nobody wanted.
Within minutes, my credit cards were flagged as stolen and my father’s lawyers were drafting a statement calling me mentally unstable. I was left shivering in a puddle of oily sludge, wearing a ruined Chanel suit, with no money, no home, and no one to hear me scream.
I couldn't understand how they could be so cruel. I was their flesh and blood, yet they treated me like a broken toy to be discarded in the trash. I was a "distressed asset" in a city that only valued gold.
That’s when a black armored SUV pulled to the curb. King Wagner—the ruthless shark of Wall Street and Preston’s own uncle—looked at my muddy face with cold, calculating eyes. He didn't offer me pity; he offered me a leash.
"You belong to me now," he whispered, pulling me into the dry warmth of his car. By the next morning, he had announced our engagement to the world, turning me into the very weapon that would slit my family's throat.
7.4
In a city where data is power and truth is a weapon, some secrets are worth killing for.
Mara Quinn is a ghost in the system, an underground journalist known only as Cipher, feared by corporations and hunted by those with everything to lose. When she breaches a classified network inside Axiom Industries, she uncovers something no one was meant to see: ORACLE, a predictive AI capable of shaping human behavior on a global scale.
She expects retaliation. She doesn't expect Kael Draven.
Cold, brilliant, and untouchable, Kael is the architect behind Axiom's empire, and a man who doesn't make threats he can't execute. Instead of silencing Mara, he offers her a choice: work under his watch, or disappear from existence entirely. Trapped inside his glass fortress known as The Spire, Mara is pulled deeper into a world of surveillance, manipulation, and power plays that stretch far beyond anything she imagined.
But ORACLE isn't just a tool, it's already been used. Governments have fallen. Empires have shifted. And someone else is pulling the strings.
As a rival syndicate closes in and a hidden war erupts across the city, Mara and Kael are forced into an uneasy alliance, one built on intellect, suspicion, and a dangerous, undeniable pull neither of them can ignore.
Because in a world where every move is predicted...
the only thing more dangerous than control is feeling.
And the system is already watching.
7.3
Seven years ago, my fiancé, Don Dante Moretti, sent me to prison to take the fall for my adopted sister, Chiara. He called it a gift-a way to protect me from a worse fate.
Today, he picked me up from prison only to abandon me at my family's estate. His reason? Chiara was having another one of her "episodes."
My parents then informed me I'd be staying in the third-floor storage room, so as not to disturb the fragile girl who stole my life.
They celebrated her "recovery" with a lavish dinner party, while I was treated like a ghost. When I refused to join, my mother hissed that I was ungrateful, and my father called me jealous.
They assumed I couldn't understand their venomous whispers. But prison was my university. I learned Spanish. I understood every word.
It was then I realized I wasn't just a sacrifice; I was disposable. The love I once felt for all of them had turned to ash.
That night, in the dusty storage room, I logged onto an encrypted channel I'd set up years ago. A single message was waiting: "The offer stands. Do you accept?" My hands, scarred and steady, typed back, "I accept."
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?