Pleasure Contract: The Mother the CEO Swore to Dominate
"Come on, Juliet... it's time to write a new story."
After years trapped in an abusive marriage, Juliet Pierce finally runs. Alone, with two children and a suitcase full of trauma, she leaves behind the luxury - and George Monroe, the man she once loved - in search of a new beginning.
The destination? Manhattan.
The plan? Just survive.
But everything changes on her first night working as a waitress at Paradise, an exclusive BDSM club where pleasure meets power. Afraid of being recognized, she wears a mask - a shield she desperately needs.
And that's where she crosses paths with Noah Blake: billionaire CEO, relentless Dominant, and co-owner of the club.
He sees her.
He wants her.
He has no idea who she really is... yet.
Days later, Juliet applies for a position as Noah's assistant. This time, she's not wearing a mask - and he starts putting the pieces together.
Juliet wants distance.
Noah wants to tame her.
"I do love a challenge," he says.
Juliet is everything he never expected: funny, bold, intense - fragile on the outside, but with eyes that reveal how untamed she truly is.
He wants her on her knees.
She wants to prove she can love without losing herself.
What begins as a dangerous arrangement becomes a quiet war between fear and desire, past and redemption.
But Juliet's past is closer than she thinks. And when it resurfaces to haunt her, she'll have to choose: surrender... or fight for herself - and maybe, for the love of a man who swore he would never love.
"It was in that moment I realized I was about to discover:
Whether this would be a nightmare...
or the best experience of my life."
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Chapter 4
Chapter 3 – The Man with the Green Eyes
Juliet Pierce
The night had actually been... calm.
People here barely drank. Samy and I were slowly getting used to the scenes unfolding around us, even if my feet were screaming from the stilettos. These were definitely not shoes made for waitressing.
But him.
The man with the green eyes.
Every few minutes I felt his stare burning into me. He never interacted with anyone except the blond guy beside him (Caio had whispered they were the owners).
Whenever their table ordered something, I begged Samy to take it. My heart raced just from him looking at me across the room. I didn't want to imagine what would happen if I got close.
Atlas was always nearby, quietly making it clear to any Dom who lingered too long that "they're not into it." That was enough. Here, they were called Doms, and one sharp word from Atlas sent them moving.
A submissive girl who'd befriended us at the bar explained there were far more Doms looking for partners than submissives willing to play. That's why they kept circling us like sharks.
I was leaning against the bar catching my breath when Caio waved me over.
"Ju, I need you to take a tray to room twelve."
"Room?" I blinked. "There are rooms?"
He grinned. "Some scenes aren't for public viewing. Certain Doms value their privacy."
"Okay... where is it?"
He nodded toward the main stage. "Corridor beside the stage. Private wing. Knock, wait for them to open, don't step inside until invited, and whatever you see-eyes down, mouth shut. Got it?"
I nodded, forcing a smile, but my stomach flipped. My eyes had adjusted to what happened on the main floor... but behind closed doors?
I followed his directions. My hands shook-not fear exactly, more like anxious anticipation of what waited on the other side.
Room 12.
I knocked twice. Nothing.
I remembered Caio's words: wait for them to open. So I waited.
A couple appeared in the hallway. The man's gaze crawled over me like he was already undressing me. The woman on his arm didn't appreciate it.
I knocked again.
This time the door opened.
It was the same man I'd seen on my very first night-the one circling the blindfolded woman on the stage. He didn't speak, just tilted his head for me to enter.
"Excuse me, sir..."
I hurried to the side table, set the tray down, and tried not to look.
I failed.
A woman knelt on the floor, naked except for a thick leather collar around her throat. The leash was wrapped loosely around his fist. When he realized I was staring, he smiled-slow, predatory.
"Thank you, sir," I mumbled and practically ran out, pulling the door shut behind me.
My heart was a full samba parade. I leaned against the wall, eyes closed, trying to breathe.
A hand landed on my waist.
"Hello, darling..."
My eyes snapped open.
It was the man from the hallway-the one who'd been eye-fucking me minutes ago.
"Good evening, sir. Can I help you?" I tried to sound steady. Failed.
"Yes. You can walk with me to my room."
Instant red alert.
I tried to step away; his grip tightened.
"I'm sorry, sir, I'm just a waitress."
"That's exactly why I need your services." He squeezed. My entire body started shaking. "My room's full of empty glasses and bottles. I need them cleared."
I nodded, terrified, and let him lead me. The second we crossed the threshold I saw the lie: the table was spotless.
The lock clicked behind me.
"You said there were things to pick up."
"My mistake." He stepped closer.
"Then I have nothing to do here." I moved for the door.
His hand clamped around my arm like a vice.
"I didn't say you could leave."
I yanked-nothing. For one horrifying second George flashed in my mind: the same grip, the same rage, the same ending in bruises and blood.
"Please, sir. Like I said-I'm just the waitress."
He jerked me against him. I twisted. His mouth came down on mine.
I bit him. Hard.
The slap cracked across my face like lightning. I stumbled in the heels and hit the floor. Before I could scramble up he was on me, knees pinning my thighs.
He buried his nose in my neck, inhaling like an animal.
"You're going to obey me, little mouse," he growled, biting my earlobe hard enough to draw blood. "Or I'll punish you."
"Please-I'm not part of this. I'm not one of the girls."
He tried to kiss me again. I turned my face.
"Please let me go."
"That's it, mouse. Beg for me."
I fought, but he was huge. His hand slid under my skirt, fingers forcing their way between my legs. I remembered Atlas's voice like a lifeline.
"I don't want this!" Tears spilled over. "You can't force me-Mr. Atlas said!"
"Atlas is a fucking idiot, and right now you're my pretty little mouse..."
"NO!" I screamed. "STOP! STOP! STOP!"
Useless. George flooded my mind again-all the nights he took whatever he wanted while I cried.
Atlas's words echoed through the panic.
"If you hear 'Red,' everything stops. No questions."
I sucked in a desperate breath.
"RED! RED! RED!"
He laughed, pinning both my wrists above my head with one hand while the other shoved higher under my skirt, stroking me through the thin fabric.
Tears blurred everything. Sobs choked me. I felt him hard against my hip.
I closed my eyes and screamed with everything left in me.
"REEEED!"
The door exploded off its hinges.
And through the splintered frame stepped...
The man with the green eyes.
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9.1
With only fifteen days of cash flow left to save her tech startup, Aida had no choice but to seek a five-million-dollar bridge loan from Brendan Walls, a ruthless billionaire predator.
He agreed to sign the check, but on one sickening condition. He demanded Aida act as bait to get close to his corporate rival, Grayson Lott, treating her like a high-end call girl for a business transaction.
Forced to comply to save her employees, Aida let Grayson take her to a windowless underground club, where he secretly spiked her whiskey.
As the drugs paralyzed her body, triggering horrific flashbacks of a brutal assault from six years ago, Aida locked herself in the bathroom. She had to shatter a mirror and slice her own thigh open with a jagged shard of glass just to stay conscious enough to call Brendan for help.
Brendan's armored SUV immediately smashed through the club's wall to save her, and Grayson was arrested. But lying in the hospital, the horrifying truth finally clicked in Aida's mind.
The rescue was too fast. Brendan’s men hadn't rushed from Midtown; they had been parked outside the entire time. He had watched Grayson drug her and waited for the felony to happen just so he could legally seize Grayson's company. He had gambled her life and trauma for a hostile takeover.
When Brendan casually tossed a signed contract and luxury car keys onto her hospital bed as hush money, the last thread of Aida's sanity snapped.
"The deal is dead. NovaTech is mine. If you ever come near me again, I will kill you."
Bleeding and shaking with icy rage, Aida threw the keys at his chest, formally declaring war on the monster who thought he could buy her soul.
9.0
Velma spent ten years as Dylan's wife, enduring his mother's cruelty and constant reminders that she was barren-an orphan who didn't deserve him. When she finally became pregnant after a decade of trying, everything fell apart.
Forced to sign divorce papers, heartbroken and pregnant, Velma disappeared.
Five years later, she returned as the world's most famous artist. By her side: Theron, a patient and wealthy man who helped her rebuild her life, and the son Dylan never knew existed.
She came back for an art exhibition, but fate forced her to work at Dylan's fashion company.
The moment Dylan saw her, everything changed. She was no longer the quiet, broken woman he'd divorced. She was confident, powerful, radiant-and married to another man.
Dylan groveled. He begged. He humbled himself in ways he never imagined, willing to do anything to reclaim the wife he'd lost for a second chance.
But Velma was no longer the woman who lived in anyone's shadow.
Will she forgive the man who broke her heart? Choose the man who rebuilt her? Or rewrite the rules and have them both?
Click to find out... This is a why choose when she can have both book.
8.3
He laid me on the sheets, climbed over me, caged me with his arms. "Last chance to run," he said, voice low."I need the money," I whispered, feeling so tiny in his arms."You're soaking," he muttered. "Virgin or not, your pussy wants this."I moaned, looking away, couldn't help it,"Eyes on me, sweetheart," he pushed his tip in slowly."Fuck," he groaned. "So tight."He fucked me like he was claiming something. "Come for me," he whispered in my ears, moving faster."Damien," I cried out his name as I came."That's it," he growled. After a long minute he pulled out slowly. "One night," he said again, almost like a reminder....weeks later, I walked through the quiet hall of my school. A massive portrait stared back at me.Damien BlackwoodPrincipal Benefactor and OwnerColumbia University.Same man who'd just taken my virginity for money. My stomach dropped. "Oh fuck... what have I done?"
9.2
I brought the original drafts of the Lloyd Center to my stepsister’s high-society pool party, hoping the gift would finally earn my family's respect. I stood on the edge of the limestone patio, clutching the leather portfolio as fifty pairs of judgmental eyes watched my every move.
But the moment I handed the sketches to Corina, she retracted her hand, letting the portfolio sink into the chlorine before throwing herself into the pool with a theatrical scream.
My fiancé, Julian, didn't hesitate; he shoved me aside with enough force to twist my ankle and dove in to rescue her. He surfaced with Corina in his arms, looking at me with a mask of pure disgust while the crowd whispered that I was an unstable, illegitimate intruder. My stepmother Eugenia didn't even ask for an explanation before she stepped forward and slapped me across the face, ordering me to get out before she called the police.
"Sister, if you're still mad about the inheritance, just say it. Why did you push me?"
"Enough! God, Aria. Your jealousy is actually sickening."
I stood on shaking legs, looking at the man who had promised to know my heart for two years, only to realize he was just another wolf in the pack. The humiliation burned hotter than the sting on my face, and I realized that in their eyes, I would always be the trash they needed to take out.
I yanked the diamond ring off my finger, slammed it onto a table, and walked away from my old life forever. To claim my trust fund and survive, I walked into a dive bar and offered a marriage contract to a broke, mysterious artist named Harland. I thought I was just buying a temporary shield, but I didn't realize that my "poor" new husband was actually a billionaire predator who was already planning to burn my family's empire to the ground.
9.3
To escape my abusive adoptive mother selling me to a loan shark for $50,000, I rushed to City Hall to marry a blind date.
In a blind panic, I grabbed the wrong man.
He was Julian Cardenas IV, a billionaire CEO who desperately needed a fake wife to dodge a corporate arranged marriage. We signed the papers on the spot.
He became my legal shield. He moved me into his pristine penthouse and secretly protected me from my family's violent threats. When I broke down crying in the freezing cold, he quietly left me hot cocoa. For the first time in my life, I felt safe.
But then, Julian overheard me complaining to my sister about my constantly breaking-down car, groaning that I had to "get rid of this baby four times."
He thought I meant abortions.
The man who was slowly melting my frozen heart instantly turned to ice. He threw away the dinner he had specially bought for me, his eyes filled with absolute disgust and blinding rage.
I was left entirely confused and terrified. Why did my savior suddenly look at me like I was the most repulsive thing in the world? What had I done to deserve this sudden cruelty?
I thought this fake marriage was my ticket out of hell. I didn't realize I had just locked myself in a cage with a furious, ruthless CEO who now wanted to destroy me.
8.7
I stood as a ghost, watching the rhythmic thud of dirt hitting my own casket. My father, Senator Ellwood, dabbed his eyes for the cameras while my stepmother, Carroll, played the grieving mother perfectly, even though they were the ones who had paved the way for my murder.
The vision shifted to a high-rise office where Isadore Walker, the terrifying "Shadow Regent," was methodically bankrupting every elite family that had betrayed me. He pressed a silver koi fish necklace to his lips and triggered a massive explosion, choosing to burn the entire world down just to join me in death.
"Little Fish," he whispered.
In my first life, I was a naive pawn who believed my best friend, Catarina, when she claimed I simply slipped into the pool at my Debutante Ball. I let the opportunistic Cody Stevens play the hero who "saved" me, leading to a hollow engagement that ended in my ruin. I never knew that my stepmother had conspired with our housekeeper to hide my true identity and keep me from my biological family.
I died without ever understanding why Isadore, a man who treated me with cold indifference, would sacrifice everything for my sake. I didn't know that my entire life was a web of kidnappings and bribes designed to keep me as a political pawn.
Suddenly, the heat of the explosion warped into the agonizing burn of icy water. I broke the surface, gasping for air, back at the very party where my downfall began three years ago.
As I climbed out, I didn't look for Cody’s help. I wrapped myself in Isadore’s sandalwood-scented jacket and felt the cold steel of the tactical knife he had left in the pocket. This time, I wasn't the victim; I was the one who would light the fuse.