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?"
Chapters
Share
Chapter 6
Alessandra POV
The pain in my wrist was sharp, a grinding pressure that promised a fracture if I moved, but the fury in Caleb's eyes was worse. It was the look of a man whose ego had just been shattered by a girl he deemed beneath him.
What the hell is going on?
Kaia's voice sliced through the tension like a whip. She stood at the edge of our booth, her hands clenched into fists, her eyes darting from the shattered glass on the floor to Caleb's grip on my arm.
Caleb's expression shifted instantly. The snarl vanished, replaced by a mask of wounded indignation. He didn't let go of me. Instead, he yanked me closer, making me stumble.
Your friend has lost her mind, Kaia, Caleb spat, gesturing to the sticky red mess on his face. "I came over to be polite, and she started pawing at me. When I told her I'm loyal to you, she threw a drink in my face. She's desperate."
I gagged. The lie was so vile, so effortlessly spun, that for a second, I couldn't breathe. "Liar," I rasped, trying to wrench my arm free. "Let go of me!"
See? Caleb sneered, tightening his grip until I cried out. "She's hysterical."
The air around Kaia changed. The temperature seemed to drop ten degrees. She didn't scream. She didn't cry. She stepped forward, her movements fluid and predatory, the Alpha blood in her veins waking up.
Let her go, Kaia said. Her voice was low, vibrating with a command that made the hair on my arms stand up.
Babe, listen—
I said, let go.
Kaia moved faster than a human eye could track. She seized Caleb's wrist—the one holding me—and twisted it backward with a sickening crunch.
Caleb howled, releasing me instantly as he doubled over, clutching his hand. The entire bar went silent. Every wolf in the room turned to watch the Alpha's daughter towering over her boyfriend.
My wolf would sooner fly than believe that lie, Kaia said, her voice ringing with cold authority. She looked down at him like he was something she'd scraped off her shoe. "You think I don't know a predator when I see one? You think I haven't seen the way you look at her?"
Kaia, please— Caleb stammered, sweat beading on his forehead.
Silence, she snapped. "I, Kaia Moran, sever all ties with you. Get out of my sight before I forget Pack Law forbids me from ripping your throat out on Stonecrest soil."
Caleb scrambled back, cradling his broken hand. His eyes darted around the room, finding no sympathy, only the scorn of the pack. Humiliation burned his face a deep red. He looked at Kaia, then at me, and the hatred in his gaze was toxic.
You'll regret this, he hissed, backing away toward the exit. "Both of you."
Thirty minutes later, we were seated in the corner of a high-end human restaurant on the edge of town. No loud music, no rowdy wolves, just the clinking of silverware and soft jazz.
I'm leaving, Kaia, I said, breaking the silence. I kept my voice barely above a whisper.
Kaia froze, her fork hovering over her pasta. "You can't be serious. A rogue pregnant female? You're walking into a death sentence."
Staying is a death sentence for my soul, I countered, my hand instinctively covering my stomach. "Isadora is back. I smelled her on him this morning. It was... suffocating." I looked up, meeting her eyes. "He loves her, Kaia. He washed me off his skin to make room for her. I won't let my child be a bastard in the shadows, watching their father play house with his true love."
Kaia's face softened, the anger from the bar replaced by sorrow. She sighed, pushing her plate away. "If you're serious... there's Gavyn Shepherd. The Beta of the Sun River Pack. He's back in town for the summit. He always had a soft spot for you in college."
Gavyn? I frowned. It was a lifeline, faint but real.
He's a good man. He might help you cross the border.
Like you tried to help Deric? I asked softly.
The color drained from Kaia's face. The name hung between us like a curse—Deric Frost, the mate who betrayed her, the wound that never healed.
Don't, she whispered, looking away. "That was different."
It's the same pain, Kaia. I have to go.
Kaia went to retrieve her car from the valet, leaving me standing near the restaurant entrance. The night air was crisp, but it did little to cool the feverish anxiety under my skin.
Well, if it isn't the little stray.
I stiffened. Chrissy Sweeney stepped out of the shadows, a smirk plastered on her face. But she wasn't alone.
Beside her, a woman sat in a sleek wheelchair. Isadora Pacheco.
She was breathtakingly fragile, with porcelain skin and large, doe eyes that made you want to protect her. But as she looked at me, I felt a chill that had nothing to do with the wind.
Isadora, Chrissy cooed, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. "This is Alessandra. The Alpha's... personal assistant."
Isadora tilted her head, her gaze sweeping over me, assessing, judging. "Oh? The one Demetri mentioned?"
Chrissy laughed, a sharp, cruel sound. "Yes. She's the one who's been sharing his suite. You know, taking care of his... needs... day and night while you were away fighting for your life."
The implication hung heavy in the air. Whore. Placeholder.
Isadora's expression didn't crack, but her eyes changed. The warmth vanished, replaced by a cold, hard glint of possession. She looked at me not as a person, but as a stain on her property.
Is that so? Isadora said softly. Her voice was like silk wrapped around a dagger. "It must have been hard work."
I opened my mouth to defend myself, to tell her I was leaving, that she could have him. But the look in her eyes stopped me. She didn't want an explanation. She wanted blood.
You may also like
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."