Rejected, My Ex's Brother-in-Law Claims Me
I was kidnapped alongside Cecilia Montoya, the new fiancée of the man who destroyed my life. Her fiancé, Damond Crane, was my ex-mate-the one who framed my father for treason just so he could marry her.
He arrived with a duffel bag full of cash, his face a mask of heroic worry for Cecilia. The Rogues took the money and shoved her into his arms.
But then their leader pointed at me, tied to a pipe in the corner. "What about the spare?" he sneered. "A little extra for the pretty Omega you left behind?"
Damond didn't even hesitate. He looked right at me, his eyes as cold and empty as a winter sky.
"She's nothing," he announced, his voice echoing in the silent warehouse. "A worthless Omega not worth a single coin. Do what you want with her."
He turned his back on me. He walked out the door with his new love, leaving me to be torn apart by monsters. In that moment, my soul didn't just break; it shattered into dust.
Just as the Rogues unbuckled their belts, a shadow dropped from the rafters. It was Waylen Montoya, Cecilia's brother, the most feared Alpha in the region. He landed between me and them, his power a crushing weight. He knelt before me, his voice a low, dangerous promise.
"Did you really think I'd let them have what's mine?"
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Chapter 2
Alessandra POV
I pushed the heavy mahogany door open, my knuckles white around the crumpled medical report. The air inside the office hit me like a physical blow—not the comforting, crisp scent of rain and pine I craved, but a cloying, suffocating stench of vanilla and synthetic roses.
Isadora.
She was all over him.
Demetri sat behind his desk, looking immaculate in a fresh suit, but the scent of another woman clung to his skin like a second layer. He didn't even look up as I placed the stack of pack financial reports on his desk. My hand trembled, the paper edge brushing against the polished wood.
Your scent is a mess, Alpha, Adan said, his voice tight with disapproval. He stood by the window, arms crossed. "You reek of conflict... and her."
Demetri finally looked up, his storm-grey eyes flat and unyielding. He ignored me completely, his gaze locking on the Healer. "Watch your tone, Adan. My private life is not up for debate."
It is when it affects the Pack's stability, Adan countered, his eyes flickering to me with pity. That pity was worse than Demetri's indifference. It made me feel small. Pathetic.
Leave us, Demetri commanded, waving a hand dismissively in my direction.
I felt my wolf whimper, bowing her head to the Alpha's order despite my breaking heart. I turned and walked out, the silence in the room deafening. The elevator ride down was a blur of tears and the phantom smell of cheap perfume that seemed to have permanently stained my mate.
By lunch, the nausea had returned with a vengeance. I retreated to the Pack House communal kitchen, hoping for a quiet glass of water to settle the rolling in my stomach. The room was buzzing with whispers, eyes darting my way before snapping back to hushed conversations.
Some Omegas just don't know their place, a shrill voice cut through the noise.
Chrissy Sweeney leaned against the counter, flanked by two other pack members. She smirked, her eyes raking over my simple grey dress. "Do you really think our Alpha would ever look at you when a true high-born she-wolf like Isadora is back?"
I gripped my glass, my knuckles turning white. "Move, Chrissy."
Make me, she sneered. Before I could react, she snatched a steaming mug of coffee from the counter and jerked her wrist.
Oops.
The dark liquid splashed across my forearm. Searing heat tore through my skin, blistering instantly. I gasped, dropping my water glass. It shattered, shards exploding across the tile.
My pup. The fear wasn't for me; it was a primal, violent terror for the life inside me. The stress, the pain—it was too much.
You're nothing but a packless runt! Chrissy laughed, stepping closer. "An orphan nobody wants!"
Something inside me snapped. It wasn't my weak Omega wolf; it was the mother. My hand moved before I registered the thought.
Crack.
The slap echoed through the kitchen, silencing the room. Chrissy stumbled back, clutching her cheek, shock written all over her face. I grabbed her wrist, twisting it until she cried out.
She attacked me! Chrissy shrieked, playing the victim instantly. "The Alpha's little Omega whore attacked me!"
Enough!
The command rolled over us like thunder, vibrating in my bones. The air grew heavy, charged with static. Demetri stood in the doorway, his presence filling the room. Everyone froze.
He stalked forward, his eyes cold as they swept over the shattered glass and my red, blistering arm. But his gaze didn't soften. He looked at me like I was a unruly child.
Pack Law forbids wolves from raising a hand against one another, Demetri stated, his voice devoid of warmth. "Did you attack her, Alessandra?"
He didn't ask what she did. He didn't ask if I was hurt. He only saw my defiance.
I released Chrissy's wrist, standing tall despite the trembling in my legs. "As a member of this Pack, I apologize to her," I said, my voice shaking but clear. I looked him dead in the eye. "But as a woman, I do not."
I turned on my heel and walked out, leaving the Alpha and his judgment behind.
Demetri POV
The kitchen was silent as Alessandra disappeared into the hallway. The scent of her distress—burnt skin and salt tears—lingered, souring the air. It irritated my wolf, scratching at the back of my mind.
Chrissy was still whimpering, holding her cheek, a smug look creeping into her eyes as she looked up at me. "Thank you, Alpha. She's out of control. She—"
I moved faster than she could blink. I slammed my hand against the counter beside her head, leaning in until my nose brushed her ear.
You will forget this happened, I snarled, letting the full weight of my Alpha aura crush her. Her knees buckled, and she slid to the floor, terror replacing her smugness. "You will never speak to her, look at her, or breathe in her direction again. She is MINE to deal with."
My wolf paced aggressively, demanding blood for the scent of burnt flesh on my mate. I shoved the instinct down.
Touch her again, I whispered, my voice dropping to a lethal octave, "and I will rip your throat out."
I straightened, adjusting my cuffs, and looked at Kael, my Gamma, who had been watching silently.
Get this trash out of my sight.
Alessandra POV
The evening air was cool, but my arm throbbed with a steady, burning rhythm. I stood outside the Pack Clinic, waiting for the shuttle to take me to my grandmother's cottage. I couldn't stay in the Pack House tonight. I couldn't breathe the same air as him.
Gravel crunched. A sleek black Bentley rolled into the lot.
My heart gave a traitorous leap. Demetri. Had he come to check on me? Had Adan told him about the burn?
The driver's door opened. Demetri stepped out, looking devastatingly handsome in the dying light. He walked around the car, but his eyes didn't scan for me. He opened the passenger door.
Isadora Pacheco sat there, looking pale and fragile.
Demetri leaned in, unbuckling her seatbelt with a gentleness I had never known. He scooped her into his arms, holding her against his chest as if she were made of glass.
I've got you, I heard him murmur, his voice low and tender. "I'm here."
He carried her past me toward the clinic entrance. He didn't even see me standing in the shadows, clutching my burnt arm, carrying his heir.
The last ember of hope in my chest didn't just turn to ash; it froze. I watched them disappear inside, the image searing itself into my memory more painfully than the coffee on my skin.
I turned away, walking into the darkening woods. I didn't need a shuttle. I needed to be gone.
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8.2
For three years, nineteen-year-old Ella Campbell rotted in a freezing psychiatric isolation room.
Her billionaire family didn't visit her once, only pulling her out today to force her to publicly apologize to Ashlyn, the perfect sister who had framed her.
At Ashlyn's glamorous engagement gala, Ella was treated worse than a stray dog and forced to watch her childhood sweetheart propose to her sister.
When Ella showed no jealousy, her brother Ivan dragged her onto a dark balcony and nearly choked her to death.
Her mother didn't even check if Ella was breathing, merely ordering a makeup artist to paint thick concealer over the dark purple handprints on Ella's neck so the family's stock price wouldn't drop.
Standing under the blinding stage lights in a shapeless gray dress, facing three hundred mocking Wall Street executives, Ella was supposed to be the broken, obedient psycho the Campbells needed.
"I am deeply sorry for the pain I caused."
She was supposed to end the apology there and bow to her abusers, but Ella didn't shed a single tear.
"My only regret is that I didn't insist on waiting for the police to arrive that night. I deeply regret that I didn't demand a full, legal toxicology report to prove to everyone exactly what happened."
As the ballroom erupted into suspicious whispers and her paralyzed twin brother finally saw the violent bruises hidden beneath her makeup, Ella's counterattack against the Campbell family officially began.
8.0
Love and revenge don't mix well in the dark streets of Milan.
When Daisy Fontana stepped into her engagement party at the Marino mansion, she thought she had it all. A handsome fiancé from one of Milan's most powerful families, a bright future ahead, and a perfect life far from her father's reach. But that dream shattered in a single night when her sister Sofia exposed her family's little secret... she wasn't really a Fontana at all.
Daisy was humiliated and cast aside by her fiancé Antonio, so she came up with what she thought was the perfect revenge. She'd get close to Antonio's father, the feared Don Vincenzo Marino, by becoming his assistant. In her mind, it was simple: make Antonio jealous by becoming important to his father's empire. Then hopefully that would make him realise he made a mistake by letting her go.
But what Daisy didn't know was that Vincenzo had watched her for a while, hoping for a chance. While she plotted her little revenge against the son, she had no idea she was walking straight into the arms of a man who had craved her for a while. She was supposed to get back at the son, but didn't expect she'd be falling for the father.
9.5
Alina was the eldest daughter of the prestigious Padilla family, but everyone mocked her as a defective dud who couldn't cast a single spell.
The moment she woke up, her father and younger sister Karina barged into her room, demanding she sign a transfer agreement to the Aethelgard Order-the most brutal faction on the continent.
It wasn't just a transfer; it was a legal disownment. In her past life, Alina didn't realize Karina was also reborn. She had dropped to her knees and begged to stay. Her reward? Her magic was violently drained from her veins by her own family. Her fiancé drove a blade through her chest, and her sister stood over her bleeding body, smiling. She had ruined her hands making potions for them, only to be discarded like trash.
The phantom pain of her chest being ripped open still burned behind her ribs. Looking at the hypocritical family waiting for her tears, she felt nothing but exhausting disgust. Why should she ever be their stepping stone again?
"For the honor of the family, you leave today."
Her father sneered as she calmly bit her thumb and pressed her bloody fingerprint onto the contract. This time, Alina didn't cry. She packed a single bag and walked out the door, heading straight for the deadly Aethelgard Order to show them what a true monster looked like.
7.4
"You can't escape me, Aurora. You are mine!"
The Alpha King's roar echoed through the palace walls.
But Aurora just tightened her grip on the blade hidden beneath her cloak.
She would never-never-give herself to the monster who murdered her father.
Even if the Moon Goddess cursed her to be his mate.
***
Aurora Regalia once had everything-a loving father, a prosperous pack, and a future that glittered with promise. Her father, the king, even chose her a mate: Logan Charming. Powerful. Charismatic. Cursed.
She thought he was her destiny.
Then she watched him tear her father's head from his shoulders.
One night. One betrayal. Her entire family, slaughtered. Her pack, reduced to ashes.
Aurora jumped off a cliff that night-not to die, but to survive. To become something her enemies would never see coming.
An assassin. A ghost. A blade wrapped in silk.
For years, she trained in the shadows, fueled by one single purpose: revenge. Blood for blood. She would make Logan Charming suffer the way she had suffered. She would carve his heart out and feel nothing.
But fate had a cruel sense of humor.
The Moon Goddess looked down at her shattered daughter and laughed.
Because the man who destroyed her life?
The monster who wore her father's blood on his hands?
He was her fated mate.
Now Aurora stands at a crossroads she never asked for. Every instinct screams for vengeance. Every fiber of her being recoils at the bond pulling her toward him.
But Logan? He doesn't care about her hatred. He doesn't care about her blade.
"You can run, little mate," he whispers, crimson eyes gleaming in the dark. "But I will always find you."
And when he does?
He won't just cage her body.
He'll claim her soul.
9.3
She's sin wrapped in a nun habit.
He is the devil who makes her want to confess.
Luciano Moretti, the mafia's most feared enforcer, kills without hesitation, prays to no god, and bleeds for the Cosa Nostra.
Sister Elizabeth has spent her life behind church walls, burying her desires under layers of penance and prayer. She is supposed to be untouchable-a quiet, secluded nun devoted to faith.
But when she finds him bleeding on the altar one night, their worlds collide in a sin neither heaven nor hell can cleanse.
He's meant to marry her sister to seal a deal between two mafia empires.
She's meant to keep her vows and distance.
But temptation has a cruel sense of humour...
Because he's the last man she should want.
She's the only woman he can't have.
But one touch, one look, and everything sacred begins to crumble.
Luciano does not seek salvation. Instead, he lures her into a dangerous path, one that includes everything she is meant to avoid, and everytime she whispers "forgive me, Father," her soul sinks deeper into him.
As bloodlines clash and loyalty turns to betrayal, Elizabeth learns that the war outside the chapel isn't the only one she must survive. Because Luciano's world is built on violence and secrets, one of which binds her fate to his in ways neither of them saw coming.
Desire clashes with devotion.
Duty turns to betrayal.
And when they're both drowning in a love so forbidden, not even God can save them.
7.1
I lay paralyzed on stiff white sheets, a prisoner in my own skin, listening to the rain lash against the window like nails on a coffin. My father, Elmore Franco, didn't even look at my face as he checked his clipboard. He just listened to the steady, monotonous beep of the heart monitor-the only thing proving I was still alive.
Without a hint of remorse, he pulled a pen from his pocket and signed the Do Not Resuscitate order. My stepmother, Ophelia, stepped out from behind him, wearing my favorite pearl necklace and smelling of cloying perfume. She leaned close to my ear to whisper the truth that turned my blood to ice.
"It was the tea, darling. Just like your mother. A slow, tasteless poison."
She chuckled as she revealed that my fiancé, Bryce, had a two-year-old son with my sister, Daniela. My inheritance had been funding their secret life for years, and now that the money was secure, I was an inconvenience they were finally scrubbing away. As my father yanked the power cord from the wall, the beeping died, and the darkness swallowed me whole.
I was being murdered by my own flesh and blood, used as a bank account until I was no longer needed. I died in that sterile room, drowning in the realization that every person I ever loved was a monster who had been waiting for me to take my last breath.
Then, I gasped. I woke up in a luxury hotel suite surrounded by silk sheets, five years in the past-the very morning of my wedding. Next to me lay Basile Delgado, the "Wolf of Wall Street" and my family's most dangerous enemy. In my first life, I ran from this room in a panic and lost everything. This time, I looked at the man who would eventually destroy my father's empire and decided to join him.
"I'm not leaving, Basile. Marry me. Right now. Today."