Pregnant With The Ruthless Billionaire's Secret
Aubree Hamilton was the top-tier executive assistant to Wall Street's most ruthless titan, Beck Franco. A month ago, she made a catastrophic mistake and spent the night in his bed.
Thinking she had erased the mistake with a morning-after pill, she panicked upon his return and lied about being engaged to push him away.
But Beck, a man who despised disloyalty above all else, immediately suspended her and ordered her escorted out of the building. Her nightmare only escalated when her toxic ex-boyfriend attacked her on the street, tearing her purse open and exposing the empty morning-after pill box to the public—and to Beck, who was watching from his penthouse. After having his security rescue her, Beck trapped her in his car, ruthlessly tearing apart her fake engagement. Later in her apartment, the suffocating tension between them almost ignited into a kiss, but a violent wave of nausea suddenly hit Aubree.
She shoved him away with all her strength and violently threw up in the bathroom.
Beck took it as the ultimate physical disgust. He walked out, deeply humiliated and dangerously obsessed, unleashing his resources to investigate her every move.
Left alone and trembling, Aubree finally checked the crushed white box. The pill she took had expired a month ago.
Staring at the two bright pink lines on the pregnancy test, she made a desperate vow: Beck Franco could never know she was carrying his child, and she had to disappear before he found out.
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Chapter 9
Beck's thumb brushed over the frantic pulse point on her wrist. His eyes, dark and heavy-lidded, held hers captive. The look in them was a raw, elemental thing that stripped away the layers of CEO and assistant, leaving only man and woman.
Slowly, deliberately, he pulled her hand away from him, but he did not release her wrist. With his free hand, he cupped her chin, his touch surprisingly gentle, tilting her face up to his.
"Aubree," he rasped, his voice thick with a desire that sent a tremor through her. "Why did you lie to me?"
The question barely registered. His face was getting closer, his lips parting slightly. She could see the flecks of silver in his gray eyes, feel the warmth of his breath on her skin.
Her own lips parted in a silent, involuntary invitation. Her mind was a white-hot blank. The world had narrowed to this single, terrifying, electrifying point in time.
He was going to kiss her. And she was going to let him.
And then it hit.
A violent, overwhelming wave of nausea, more powerful than anything she had felt before. It surged up from the pit of her stomach, hot and acidic, tasting of bile.
Primal, biological instinct obliterated everything else.
With a strength born of pure desperation, she shoved him. Hard.
Beck, caught off guard by the sudden violence of her rejection, stumbled back a step. The raw hunger in his eyes was instantly replaced by shock, then a flash of disbelief.
Aubree didn't have time to see it. She slapped a hand over her mouth, spun around, and bolted for the bathroom, slamming the door and fumbling with the lock.
The sound that came next was ugly, violent, and unmistakable. She was retching, her body convulsing as she threw up into the toilet.
Out in the living room, Beck stood frozen. The last vestiges of desire vanished, replaced by a cold, profound humiliation.
His mind raced, searching for an explanation. Was she ill? Had she eaten something bad? The thoughts were fleeting, immediately discarded. He remembered the fierce determination with which she had lied to him, the panic in her eyes as she fled his car, the absolute terror on the sidewalk. No, this wasn't a coincidence. It was a pattern. This was a visceral, physical rejection of him. The conclusion was brutal and inescapable.
She would rather be physically sick than kiss him. The very thought of his touch made her want to vomit.
It was the most profound, most visceral rejection a man could experience. A complete and utter repudiation of his very being.
His fists clenched at his sides, the newly bandaged knuckles straining against the fabric. The wound throbbed, a dull echo of the gaping injury just inflicted on his pride.
He didn't wait. He turned, strode to the door, and walked out of her apartment, pulling it shut behind him with a sharp, definitive crack that echoed the shattering of something inside him.
In the bathroom, Aubree finally finished. She slumped against the cool tile, weak and trembling. After a few minutes, she flushed the toilet and dragged herself to the sink, rinsing her mouth.
She looked at her reflection. A pale, hollow-eyed stranger stared back. And in that moment, a single, terrifying thought cut through the fog of her misery.
This wasn't stress. This wasn't a hangover. This was something else.
She stumbled out of the bathroom. The apartment was empty. Beck was gone. A part of her was relieved, but a much larger part was consumed by a new and rapidly growing panic.
She scrambled for her purse, the one Jordyn had dumped on the sidewalk. Her fingers closed around the small, crushed white box.
With trembling hands, she turned it over, her eyes searching for the fine print on the bottom flap.
EXP: 04/2023.
Her breath caught in her throat. The current month was June. The pill had expired last month.
All the strength left her body. She slid down the wall, landing in a heap on the floor. The world tilted on its axis.
She remembered the pregnancy test she kept in the back of her medicine cabinet, bought ages ago for a scare that had turned out to be nothing.
She crawled back into the bathroom, her movements clumsy, robotic. She tore open the foil packet, her hands shaking so badly she could barely hold the plastic stick. She followed the instructions, her mind numb.
She placed the test on the edge of the sink, preparing for the longest three minutes of her life.
She didn't need it.
Almost instantly, a second pink line began to bloom in the small window, a vivid, undeniable slash of color.
Two lines.
Positive.
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7.4
Four years ago, to protect the man I loved from losing his billionaire empire, I drugged his drink, told him I only used him for his money, and vanished.
Now, at a high-society gala, Callum Wyatt is back. He isn't just a CEO anymore; he's a ruthless predator, and the second his eyes lock onto me, I know I am his prey.
When my wealthy half-sister publicly humiliated me, calling me the cheap bastard child of a homewrecker, Callum stepped out of the shadows. He nearly snapped her wrist in half and declared to New York's elite that anyone who touched me would be dismantled.
In the back of his Maybach, he pinned my arms above my head, his eyes burning with psychotic obsession.
"If you run again, Aubrey, I will burn your entire world to the ground just to keep you."
My heart bled. I had spent four grueling years tearing myself apart to keep him out of my messy, blood-soaked revenge against the family that watched my mother die.
But his terrifying protection only made my biological father's family target me harder, using their massive capital to buy out my movie set and crush my acting career.
They thought I would cower.
But as I walked onto the soundstage, facing the heiress trying to steal my role, I took off my sunglasses. I wasn't running anymore; it was time to make them pay.
7.6
Jocelyn Yang lived in the grand Turner Mansion, not as a guest, but as a prisoner. Ever since her father's death, the ruthless billionaire Elam Turner forced her to atone for sins her father never committed.
On her nineteenth birthday, a male classmate secretly sent her a diamond necklace. Elam, who had flown back from London overnight, flew into a psychotic, jealous rage at the sight of another man's gift.
He mercilessly crushed the delicate necklace into the marble floor with his custom leather shoe.
"Did you forget what you are?" Elam hissed, dragging her into a pitch-black storage room. "You take gifts from other men behind my back?"
He pinned her to the dusty floorboards and violently assaulted her. The next morning, a wire transfer of $500,000 hit her bank account. He had humiliated her, broken her spirit, and was now casually trying to buy her silence. Later, when a broken bike left her walking miles through a freezing rainstorm, he just shoved scalding tea into her bleeding hands.
"Look at you," he sneered. "You look like a stray dog ruining my floors."
Jocelyn curled up in the cold, her lips bleeding and her heart shattered. She couldn't understand his terrifying obsession. If he hated her so much, why did he refuse to let her go? Why did he look at her with such manic hunger while systematically destroying her life?
Staring at the massive sum of hush money on her phone, a desperate spark of vengeance flared in her chest. Jocelyn wired every single cent back to Elam's account. She picked up her charcoal pencil, vowing to win the upcoming art competition and buy her escape from this monster forever.
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."
8.8
I am the best esports jungler in the league, but I've been hiding a severe wrist injury just to keep my team alive in the semifinals.
Right in the middle of the crucial tie-breaker game, our mid-laner deliberately walked into the enemy team and died without casting a single defensive spell.
He was match-fixing for offshore betting sites, throwing away our entire season for a massive payout.
Because of his betrayal, we had to sub in two terrified rookies, and we were absolutely slaughtered. The stadium crowd booed us out of the arena. The internet exploded with pure vitriol, trending hashtags calling me a washed-up fraud who hid on the bench to save my own stats. The media demanded I retire immediately. My physical therapist gave me a grim ultimatum: my shredded nerves only allow me four hours of playtime a day before my right hand completely locks up.
I destroyed my own body for this team, only to be sold out by a coward and crucified by the very fans I bled for. Why should my legacy end in total disgrace because of someone else's greed?
I refuse to step down. I forced the traitor out, ignored management's safe roster choices, and locked my eyes on the most toxic, universally hated streamer on the platform.
"He's a walking PR nightmare," my coach warned.
I don't care. He is an arrogant, unhinged killer in the game, and I am going to make him mine.
7.9
Viewer Discretion Advised: This sultry collection plunges into raw, unbridled passion, shadowy romance, and the intoxicating grip of dominance, obsession, and carnal temptation. Crafted for mature audiences, it teases the edges of taboo entanglements, feverish ecstasy, and the razor-thin boundary between restraint and total, shuddering surrender.
In Dangerous Desires, immerse yourself in a realm where lust overrides reason and pulses thunder on the brink of ecstasy and devastation. Each tale strips bare a new facet of craving-where adversaries melt into entangled lovers, hidden truths threaten to shatter kingdoms of control, and erotic hunger flares in the most forbidden corners.
From dominant CEOs and eager assistants locked in charged, sweat-slicked power plays, to tycoons and subordinates blurring the lines of authority with breathless, illicit touches, every clash throbs with electric tension. Foes prowl like flame to tinder, sparking an unstoppable blaze of chemistry that demands skin-on-skin surrender.
Venturing deeper into the forbidden, twilight beckons with supernatural seduction-enigmatic lovers, eternal seducers, and ethereal entities lure mortals into bonds that tangle terror with throbbing arousal. In these realms, desire doesn't merely stir-it devours, leaving bodies quivering and souls utterly claimed.
Each story in this anthology throbs with peril, allure, and the exquisite rush of yielding to the forbidden ache-one that shouldn't ignite, but consumes without mercy.
9.5
Carin survived a horrific escape pod crash only to wake up in the mud of an uncharted, barbaric alien planet.
Before she could even process the pain of her fractured ribs, she was captured by towering, wolf-headed warriors who stripped her of her protective gear and threw her into a filthy slave pen.
Because she lacked animal ears and a tail, the clan's arrogant elites mocked her as a repulsive deformity, beating her with spears and forcing her to shovel toxic dung in the deadly Blade Beast pens.
The other female laborers violently bullied her and stole her only scraps of food, leaving her starving and defenseless in a brutal society where the strong preyed on the weak.
"If you're unclaimed at the mating ceremony, they force you into the breeding program, and you'll be nothing but a vessel until you die."
She was terrified, exhausted, and completely unequipped to survive this nightmare, but after a miraculous farming system suddenly awakened in her mind, she knew she desperately needed a powerful shield to protect her secret from the greedy tribe.
During the chaotic mating ceremony, amidst the cruel laughter of the entire clan, she stepped directly in front of Brannon—a terrifying, sterile, mutant outcast despised by everyone—and boldly claimed the deadly warrior as her mate.