Rising From Ashes: The Betrayed Heiress
Dorene survived a terrifying night with a bleeding, dangerous intruder in her hotel penthouse, only to receive a far more devastating blow the next morning.
A black and gold envelope arrived. It was an engagement invitation. Her boyfriend of seven years, Kadyn, was marrying her sweet, innocent best friend, Dolly.
Refusing to hide, Dorene crashed the gala in a blood-red gown. But Dolly was ready. Grabbing Dorene's wrists, Dolly purposely threw herself backward into a tower of champagne glasses, shrieking about her stomach and her unborn baby.
"If anything happens to Dolly or my child, I swear to God, I will destroy you!"
Kadyn roared, holding the weeping Dolly in the broken glass. He didn't ask a single question. He branded Dorene a jealous monster. To completely break her dignity, he publicly handed her over to the city's most notorious, sleazy playboy just to appease Dolly's fake tears.
"Give him a shot," Kadyn told her coldly.
Seven years of love were ground into the marble floor. She was framed, publicly humiliated, and discarded like trash by the two people she trusted most.
Dorene didn't shed a single tear. She gave them a smile of pure, freezing mockery and walked out of the gilded cage into the freezing Manhattan night. She didn't know that as she left, the lethal, blood-stained man from her penthouse was watching from the shadows, ready to help her burn their world to the ground.
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Chapter 7
Dolly, leaning heavily against Kadyn's side, walked slowly back into the center of the ballroom. She held a microphone handed to her by the event coordinator. She looked out at the crowd, her eyes shining with unshed tears.
"I want to apologize to everyone," Dolly said, her voice trembling perfectly. "What just happened was a terrible misunderstanding. Please, don't let my clumsiness ruin this beautiful night. Enjoy yourselves."
The crowd immediately erupted into polite applause and murmurs of sympathy. Her fake grace made the woman standing alone by the bar look even more like a bitter, unreasonable villain.
After handing the microphone back, Dolly didn't return to the lounge to rest. Instead, she grabbed Kadyn's hand and walked purposefully toward the bar, aiming straight for Dorene.
Vivian saw them coming. She grabbed Dorene's wrist, muttered a vicious curse under her breath, and squared her shoulders, ready for war.
Dolly stopped in front of them. She looked at Dorene with sickeningly sweet pity. "Dorene, I know you're hurting. I don't blame you for what you did. I still consider you my best friend."
Dorene stared at her, her face completely expressionless. She didn't even blink. She looked at Dolly as if she were looking at a stain on the floor.
When Dorene didn't react, Dolly turned her head toward the crowd and waved her hand. "Chuck? Could you come over here for a second?" she called out sweetly.
A man stepped out of the crowd. Chuck Vance. He was wearing a loud, patterned suit, his hair slicked back with too much gel. He was notorious in the New York social scene-a trust-fund playboy with a reputation for sleeping around and treating women like garbage.
Chuck swaggered over, holding a glass of scotch. His greasy eyes immediately locked onto Dorene's bare back and the tight fit of her red dress, roaming over her body with zero respect.
Dolly smiled and looped her arm through Chuck's. She turned back to Dorene. "Dorene, Chuck has always admired you. I think you two would be a perfect match. Maybe a new romance is exactly what you need to move on from... the past."
A few people standing nearby let out muffled snickers.
It was the ultimate insult. Offering a proud, high-society heiress to the biggest scumbag in the room was a public execution of her dignity.
Kadyn frowned. He shifted his weight, clearly uncomfortable with the setup. But he glanced down at Dolly's "weak" posture and decided to keep his mouth shut.
Chuck whistled lowly. He took a step forward, reaching out a hand covered in tacky gold rings, aiming straight for Dorene's cheek. "She's right, babe. Let me show you a good time."
Before his greasy fingers could even graze Dorene's skin, Vivian snapped.
Vivian swung her heavy, studded Hermès Birkin bag like a baseball bat. The heavy metal hardware of the bag cut through the air and smashed violently into the back of Chuck's outstretched hand.
Smack!
Chuck let out a high-pitched scream of agony. He stumbled backward, clutching his rapidly swelling hand to his chest, his face twisting in pain.
The entire ballroom went dead silent. Everyone stared in shock at the sudden burst of physical violence.
Vivian stood in front of Dorene like a furious war god. She pointed a shaking finger right at Chuck's face. "Keep your filthy hands off her! A pig digging through the trash doesn't get to touch a swan!"
Chuck's face turned bright red with humiliation and rage. He raised his uninjured hand, stepping forward as if to strike Vivian. But Vivian didn't flinch. She raised the heavy bag again, her eyes burning with such psychotic fury that Chuck froze in his tracks.
Dolly let out a terrified shriek and hid behind Kadyn's back. "Vivian! Are you crazy? How can you hit someone at our engagement party? !" she cried out.
Vivian whipped her head around, locking her crosshairs on Dolly. She let out a harsh, barking laugh. "Are you playing blind, you little bitch? You drag a dog in heat over here to humiliate her, and you expect me not to beat the dog?"
The crude, brutal words ripped right through Dolly's "matchmaker" facade. Dolly's face turned a sickly shade of green.
Kadyn couldn't take it anymore. He stepped forward, shielding Dolly. "Shut your mouth, Vivian!" he barked. "Stop causing a scene, or I will have security throw you out onto the street!"
Vivian stepped right up to Kadyn, tilting her head back to glare into his eyes. "Who the hell do you think you are? You're just a pathetic idiot being played by a cheap manipulator. Don't you dare bark at me."
Being called an idiot in front of the entire New York elite made the veins in Kadyn's forehead bulge. He raised his arm, his temper completely overriding his manners.
Just as the situation was about to turn into a physical brawl, Dorene finally moved.
She reached out, grabbed the back of Vivian's dress, and yanked her friend firmly behind her. Dorene stepped forward, putting herself directly in the line of fire, standing toe-to-toe with Kadyn.
Dorene's eyes were as cold as a Siberian winter. She didn't look at Dolly. She didn't look at the whimpering Chuck. She locked her gaze entirely on Kadyn.
She took one more step forward, her overwhelming presence forcing Kadyn to instinctively step back.
The silence in the room was deafening. Dorene was ready to ask the man she once loved the final question.
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9.5
My boyfriend, Jefferson, convinced me to give up my Yale scholarship for him. He was my secret, my escape from the shame of my mother's past, and I threw away my future for our love.
Then, at a gala, he publicly announced his engagement to Aubrey Carroll-the girl who made my high school years a living hell.
He trapped me in his mansion, forcing me to become her personal servant. She tortured me daily, culminating in her brutally killing our dog, Charlie, with a garden trowel.
When her friends arrived, they joined in, stripping me half-naked and live-streaming my panic attack for the world to see.
The man who once promised to protect me watched as they destroyed me.
But as I lay bleeding out on the floor, it wasn't an ambulance that arrived. It was the private security of Alexzander Stevens-my estranged, billionaire grandfather.
He revealed I was his sole heiress, and now, we were going to make them pay for every last tear.
9.6
Brenda Vincent thought her biggest nightmare was catching her boyfriend cheating with her roommate on her own sofa.
But her life truly derailed after a drunken night led her into the bed of Bryon Reeves, the ruthless billionaire CEO and older brother of the student she tutored.
Trying to pay off the most dangerous man in New York with a crumpled twenty-dollar bill was her first mistake.
Fleeing the hotel, she accidentally rear-ended his custom Maybach. Bryon used the massive repair bill to blackmail her into being his fake date, parading her at a gala just to make his sister-in-law jealous.
When Brenda finally snapped and fled the humiliation, only to be rescued by his biggest corporate rival, Bryon's twisted possessiveness turned completely destructive.
"If you feel kidnapped, call the police. But your teaching license will be permanently revoked."
He didn't just threaten her. He systematically dismantled her life, using his influence to force the university to freeze her tenure and suspend her without pay.
Brenda couldn't understand why this terrifying man was going to such extreme lengths to ruin a simple tutor who just wanted to be left alone.
Now, stripped of her career, her income, and her independence, she was forced into the sprawling Reeves Manor.
Hearing the heavy mahogany door lock from the outside in her signal-jammed bedroom, Brenda's panic slowly morphed into a cold, clinical rage.
She was trapped, but she refused to be his helpless pawn.
9.0
My fiancé, Connor, and I had a one-year pact. I'd work undercover as a junior developer in the company we co-founded, while he, the CEO, built our empire.
The pact ended the day he ordered me to apologize to the woman who was systematically destroying my life.
It happened during his most important investor pitch. He was on video call when he demanded I publicly humiliate myself for his "special guest," Jaden. This was after she'd already scalded my hand with hot coffee and faced zero consequences.
He chose her. In front of everyone, he chose a manipulative bully over our company's integrity, our employees' dignity, and me, his fiancée.
His eyes on the screen demanded my submission.
"Apologize to Jaden. Now."
I took a step forward, held up my burned hand for the camera, and made a call of my own.
"Dad," I said, my voice dangerously quiet. "It's time to dissolve the partnership."
9.6
Minutes before announcing her grand engagement, Darla caught her fiancé sleeping with her stepsister.
She publicly exposed them and canceled the wedding on the spot.
Furious, her adoptive mother demanded Darla marry a fifty-five-year-old predator to save their broken business deal.
"If you don't do exactly what I say, I'll let your father rot in prison for the rest of his life."
Desperate to escape her family's control, Darla grabbed a massive, intimidating hotel security guard she bumped into in the hallway.
She shoved all the cash in her purse at him—eight hundred dollars—and begged him to fake-marry her.
They signed the papers at City Hall that same day.
But the nightmare didn't end.
That evening, Darla received a cold phone call from the state penitentiary.
Her father had been found dead in his cell, and her company, owned by her ex-fiancé's family, fired her immediately.
They had taken everything from her, leaving her completely broken and sobbing on the floor of her tiny apartment.
She thought she had nothing left but a broke, fake husband to keep her company.
She had no idea that the "poor security guard" holding her in his arms was actually Anson Prince, a ruthless billionaire CEO.
And he was already making the calls to tear her abusers' empires to the ground.
8.9
Debora went to prison to protect the man she loved, only to end up a paroled convict living under the roof of her abusive foster parents.
When they found her positive pregnancy test from a one-night stand, they threatened to kick her out and send her straight back to a cell.
Just as they were about to report her, the stranger from that dark hotel room suddenly appeared.
He paid her foster parents one million dollars to marry her and take her away.
Debora thought she was finally safe.
But the moment they were alone, he looked at her with pure, venomous hatred.
He didn't want a wife; he wanted a prisoner.
He believed Debora was the ruthless murderer who had destroyed his life in a car crash, and he planned to make her suffocate in her own despair.
He didn't know she was just a scapegoat.
To survive and protect her baby, Debora found a job at a bridal shop, only to run into the real culprit—the man who actually drove the car and framed her.
He was now happily engaged to a wealthy heiress.
They deliberately ruined a priceless wedding gown and blamed it on her.
"Kneel on this floor and apologize, or I'm calling the police to revoke your parole!"
Why did she have to rot in hell for his sins, while the man she married wanted to destroy her?
Just as her trembling knees were about to touch the cold marble floor, the heavy glass doors were violently shoved open.
Her billionaire husband strode in like a force of nature, his eyes locked onto the wealthy couple with a terrifying, destructive rage.
8.1
Pretty Devil
8.1
Maddy worked at an exclusive underground club, always hidden behind a sleek black mask. One night, a wealthy client approached her with a filthy fantasy , he didn't want to just fuck her. He wanted to be her complete slave.
He took her to his luxury penthouse, while she shoved her soaked pussy onto his face and rode his tongue until she came, then mounted his cock and used him mercilessly, slapping and choking him while denying his orgasm until he begged like a broken whore. Even after she quit the club and started a new corporate job, she kept hooking up with him. One day, she walked into the CEO's office... and froze. Her new boss was the same man.
By day, in his luxurious office, he is the dominant, commanding CEO , barking orders, running the company with iron authority, and no one suspects a thing. By night, he becomes her secret pathetic slave: crawling, getting pegged over his own desk, licking her cum off his floor, and having his cock locked in chastity while she laughs at how easily she owns him.
Pretty Devil is a raw, extremely explicit erotic novel packed with intense femdom, heavy BDSM, humiliation, orgasm denial, pegging, face-sitting, and twisted power exchanges that blur the dangerous line between boss and secret slave.
This book is unapologetically nasty and graphic. Reader discretion is strongly advised.