Pregnant Oracle: The CEO's Most Dangerous Mistake
I stared at the ceiling tiles of the sterile clinic, counting water stains to keep from screaming. The IVF transfer was complete, but the nurse didn’t call me a mother—she called the life inside me an "asset" for Caldwell Holdings.
When I walked into my husband Alexander’s office to demand a divorce, he didn't even look up from his desk. He just laughed, shredded my legal papers, and told me I was nothing more than a high-end broodmare for his inheritance.
The nightmare only deepened from there. To keep me in line, Alexander fabricated evidence of an affair to destroy my reputation. When I tried to run, he revealed he controlled the facility where my sister was on life support, threatening to pull the plug if I didn't submit.
"One phone call, and her ventilator stops," he whispered.
Even my own parents turned against me, demanding I apologize to Alexander’s mistress just to secure their next business merger. I was a prisoner in my own life, trapped between a husband who wanted to own me and a family that had already sold me. I couldn't understand why everyone was so obsessed with this pregnancy until I saw the fear in Alexander's eyes when his uncle, the powerful Harrison Sterling, started showing up at my door.
I finally hacked into the clinic’s high-security database and found the truth. There had been a catastrophic lab breach the day of my procedure. The donor wasn't some anonymous third party.
I wasn't carrying my husband's child. I was carrying his uncle's heir.
As Alexander sent a hitman to stage a fatal "accident" on the Manhattan Bridge, I realized the war had just begun. This time, I wasn't just fighting for my life—I was holding the nuclear leverage that would burn the Caldwell empire to the ground.
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Chapter 5
The grandfather clock in the hallway chimed twelve times. The house was silent, a heavy, breathing beast.
Anona walked barefoot down the corridor, her shoes in her hand. She knew where the cameras were. She stuck to the shadows, a ghost in her own prison.
Harrison's study door was ajar. A sliver of amber light spilled onto the carpet.
She pushed it open.
Harrison sat in a wingback leather chair, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He wasn't reading. He was waiting.
Sit, he said.
Anona placed a small USB drive on the desk. It's all there. Alexander moved fifty million over the last two years.
Harrison picked up the drive. He plugged it into his laptop. His eyes scanned the data streams, reflecting the scrolling numbers.
His eyebrows lifted. You compiled this? This isn't just accounting. This is forensic auditing.
I have my CPA, Mr. Sterling, Anona said, sitting on the edge of the chair. Before I was Alexander's wife, I was the best.
Harrison closed the laptop. Good. But it's not enough to bury him. We need to know where the money went.
Anona hesitated. She twisted her wedding ring.
I'm still tracing it. But... I think it's connected to the clinic.
Harrison's hand froze on his glass. Which clinic?
Sterling Fertility. Where we did the IVF.
Harrison stood up abruptly. The ice in his glass clinked.
What did he do at the clinic, Anona?
I don't know, she said, shrinking back slightly at his intensity. The records are encrypted. But he was obsessed with hiding something there.
Harrison turned away, running a hand through his hair. He knew exactly what Alexander was hiding. The mix-up. The baby.
Keep digging, Harrison commanded, turning back to her. Whatever you find, you bring to me first.
He was standing close now. Too close. Anona could smell the whiskey and the clean, sharp scent of his aftershave.
Footsteps echoed in the hallway. Heavy. Fast.
Harrison's eyes widened. He grabbed Anona's arm.
Hide.
Where?
He shoved her gently but firmly behind his massive mahogany desk. Down.
Anona crouched in the kneehole of the desk. It was tight. She pulled her knees to her chest. She risked a glance at his monitor before he sat. A file was open, titled 'Blanchard Contingency-Medical Asset Protection.' Her blood ran cold.
Harrison sat down in his chair and pulled it forward, his legs blocking her from view.
The door swung open.
Uncle? Alexander's voice. You're still up?
Anona held her breath. She was pressed against Harrison's legs. She could feel the heat radiating from him through the wool of his trousers.
I'm reviewing the European markets, Harrison said, his voice calm, bored. Do you need something?
Alexander stepped into the room. I thought I heard voices.
I'm on a call with Tokyo, Harrison lied smoothly. Do you want me to recap the meeting for you?
No, Alexander said. Christy said she saw Anona wandering around. I thought she might be bothering you.
Harrison scoffed. Your wife? She doesn't have the spine to knock on my door.
Anona bit her lip so hard she tasted copper. Harrison's calf muscle tensed against her side. It was an intimate, secret touch that made her skin burn.
Check the guest rooms, Harrison said. And close my door.
Alexander lingered for a second, then turned. The door clicked shut.
Harrison waited a beat, then rolled his chair back. He reached down and offered Anona his hand.
She took it. He pulled her up. She stumbled, her legs numb, and fell against his chest.
For a second, neither of them moved. His hands were on her waist, steadying her. Her palms were flat against his shirt.
Go, Harrison whispered, his voice rough.
Anona fled the room, her heart pounding louder than the storm outside.
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8.0
My entire family was slaughtered three years ago by Alistair Kirkland, the usurper who stole the underworld throne.
I was the only survivor. Smuggled out of New York as a child, I was trained in the shadows to become a flawless weapon. Now, at sixteen, I returned to the city that was supposed to be my graveyard.
But the New York I returned to was a suffocating cage. Kirkland didn't just wipe out the Valenzuela bloodline; he branded my few surviving loyalists as traitors. He paraded my men down the streets in heavy iron chains, letting the very people we once protected hurl rocks at them. He bought the doctors, ensuring my wounded soldiers would bleed out in the dark. Even worse, the mother of my only ally—Julian Morgan—secretly sold us out to a Chicago warlord just to keep her archaic grip on power.
I stood in the shadows, watching an eleven-year-old boy get his head smashed with a jagged stone just for defending his father's honor. How could the city my grandfather built cheer for our extermination? Why did the old guard prefer to cower and die in the dark rather than fight the monster who stole our home?
"Ghosts don't knock on my door, Athena. What do you want?" Julian asked me.
I tossed a blood-stained ledger of Kirkland's deepest secrets onto his desk.
"I'm here to help you take back what's yours, and burn Alistair Kirkland's empire to the ground."
8.1
"I don't share my women, Adele. Breeder or not. Go on your knees." He instructed, his hands going to unbuckle his trousers.
My heart burned with hatred as I clutched the knife behind me. "Of course, Alpha Loic. I was wondering... If you were to choose between a quick death and a slow one, which would you choose?"
I smiled brightly. He was taken aback for a moment. Then his face twisted in anger. "Have you forgotten your place so soon, Omega? Go down on your fucking knees."
"Omega? Aww. Adele would be so hurt. Tonight, I'll pronounce your death. The Alpha of the Vanguard pack, killed by fire. Touchè." I snapped my hands, and fire sprang up from all corners, encircling the room, with us in it.
"Y-you are not Adele. Who are you?" His eyes widened.
...
The Demon Queen, a name that struck terror in the minds of mortals and werewolves alike. Who'd have thought she'd meet her end during one of her adventures at a nightclub?
After being struck dead by the Alpha of her most hated race, Ophelie returns in the body of a wolf-less girl with only one mission in mind. To kill her murderer.
But sometimes, things never go as planned. When love is thrown in the mix, Ophelie finds herself and her previous plans swaying.
Refusing to kill Loic is to lose herself and her powers. What would she choose?
8.8
The Offering of the Blood Moon
In the savage and intoxicating kingdom of the Legion, the Blood Moon does not simply rise it awakens a hunger that demands to be satisfied... by flesh, by fire, by fate.
Kiana was raised to hate the beasts and fear the shadows, to believe that being taken meant losing everything. But when she is torn from her village and delivered into the arms of Silas, the Alpha King, she discovers the truth is far more dangerous
Her greatest threat is not death.
It's the way her body betrays her in his presence.
Silas is dominance carved into living form iron muscle, quiet authority, and a darkness that wraps around her like a slow, suffocating promise. He is a king who does not ask, He takes,He commands, He owns, Yet the one woman who should fall at his feet dares to meet his gaze, challenge his control, and ignite something wild beneath his carefully restrained power.
And Silas... does not walk away from what tempts him.
Their connection is immediate. Violent. Addictive.
Every clash of words burns hotter than the last. Every step closer feels like crossing a line neither of them can uncross. The tension between them coils tight, thick with heat and unspoken hunger, until even the air feels too heavy to breathe.
In the quiet shadows of the royal chambers, where the moonlight spills like liquid silver across bare skin, resistance begins to crack. The scent of cedar and rain clings to him as he closes in, his presence overwhelming, his touch slow and deliberate-like he already knows exactly how she'll respond.
And she does.
Every time.
His hands don't just touch they linger. Claim. Promise.
Every brush of his lips is not gentle... it's consuming.
And when his mouth finds the sensitive curve of her neck, Kiana's defiance falters, her breath catching as something deeper, darker, and far more dangerous rises to the surface an aching, restless need she cannot fight, no matter how hard she tries.
Because this is not just desire.
It is a bond that burns.
A pull that tightens.
A hunger that refuses to be denied.
Yet the closer they get, the more dangerous the line becomes.
Between control... and surrender.
Between hatred... and craving.
Between captor... and something far more consuming.
Because under the Blood Moon, nothing is ever halfway.
And once you're claimed...
There is no escape.
9.4
I stood before the heavy oak door with a positive pregnancy test burning a hole in my pocket, ready to tell the Underboss, Anthony Holden, that his legacy was secured.
But before I could turn the handle, I heard his twin brother laughing from inside.
"She screams your name, not mine. It is a little insulting, brother," Emmanuel mocked.
"Three years of celibacy for the alliance while you play with my toy," Anthony sighed. "I deserve a medal."
My world shattered. For three years, I thought I was the exception to their violence, but I had been sleeping with a monster in the dark.
When I kicked the door open, Bianca House—my high school tormentor—was sitting there like a queen.
"Happy anniversary, Erica," she sneered. "You were just a placeholder for the territory deal."
They didn't stop there. They took my dignity, and then they took my life.
At a dinner intended to show unity, they watched me choke on peanuts. Anthony looked me in the eye and used my EpiPen on Bianca’s fake faint while I suffocated on the floor.
They threw my grandmother’s ashes off a balcony just to watch me scream. They pushed me into traffic to ensure I’d be a compliant prop for their wedding.
They killed the baby in my womb.
They thought they had broken me. They thought I was just a nurse, a civilian, a loose end.
But on the day of the wedding, I wasn't in the pews.
I was on a bus out of state, hacking the church's livestream.
As the priest began to speak, I replaced the image of the cross with the video of their confession.
I watched their empire crumble from a cracked phone screen, leaving the monsters behind to find a man who would actually burn the world for me.
9.3
Born into privilege, Eleanor never imagined her life could shatter in a single night. Then her father disappeared with his mistress, her mother fell from a building and slipped into a coma, and everything she once owned turned to dust.
Determined not to ruin Jonathan's future with her family's disgrace, she ended their relationship and became the bride of a man trapped in a vegetative state.
She believed that was the last time their paths would cross. But two years later, Jonathan pinned her in the dark and whispered, "Long time no see, my sister-in-law."
8.1
She thought patience would earn her love.
She was wrong.
After years of waiting for her best friend to finally see her, she meets the one man she should never want-his older brother. Dark, forbidden, and dangerously perceptive, he sees through every excuse she's ever made for being overlooked.
Now she must choose between a safe fantasy that keeps breaking her heart and a dangerous truth that offers no escape once it begins.
Because the brother who looks at her like that?
He doesn't believe in halfway love.