Scars Of His Ruthless Contract Pregnancy
Denice Copeland's son was dying of leukemia, and his only hope for survival was a savior sibling.
But the wealthy Montgomery family offered a cruel ultimatum. To get the experimental treatments her son desperately needed, Denice had to conceive a child naturally with Jasper Montgomery—her dead husband's cold, estranged twin brother.
Jasper treated the arrangement like a clinical transaction, taking her body without a shred of tenderness and threatening to cut her son's medical care if she disobeyed. The ultimate betrayal happened when Denice collapsed from exhaustion at his hospital. Jasper's glamorous partner, Kira, suddenly appeared and took control of Denice's dying son. Kira made the little boy call her "Mommy" and ordered security to throw Denice out.
"I don't know you. I've never seen you before in my life."
Jasper stood between Denice and her own son, coldly defending the woman who had stolen her child.
Denice was completely shattered. She finally understood she had never been anything but a cheap stand-in for Kira, a convenient breeding vessel for the Montgomery bloodline. Stripped of her dignity, her past love, and now her only child, her mind violently fractured in her freezing, mildew-stained apartment.
Abandoning the last shred of her pride, she sent Jasper one final, desperate text.
"Tonight. I'm ovulating. Come."
Then, she stepped fully clothed into a scalding shower to drown herself, forcing the man who destroyed her to finally face the wreckage he had made.
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Chapter 6
The phone buzzed again. And again. Insistent, demanding, the rhythm of a man who expected to be answered.
Jasper picked it up.
He didn't consider not picking it up. The action was automatic, reflexive, the same way he'd reach for a scalpel or a suture. His thumb slid across the screen, accepting the call, and he raised the phone to his ear without speaking.
"Denice? Denice, are you there?" Arthur's voice, nasal and eager, filled the speaker. "I've been trying to reach you. You missed our dinner reservation, I was worried-"
"She's indisposed."
Silence. Then: "Who is this? Where's Denice?"
Jasper walked to the window, looked out at the rain that still fell, at the city that continued without regard for the drama unfolding in this room. "She's resting. In my bed. As you can imagine, she's quite exhausted."
"Your-" Arthur sputtered. "Who the hell do you think you are? I demand to know-"
"Dr. Jasper Montgomery." He let the name land, watched it crush the other man through the silence. "Chief of Cardiothoracic Surgery. And you are...?" He paused, let the silence stretch. "Ah. Yes. Arthur Fletcher. Age fifty-three. History of hypertension, elevated PSA, and-" He clicked his tongue, consulting a mental file that didn't exist. "A man who relies on flashing his wallet and empty promises of yacht trips to impress women half his age. I have absolutely no interest in your existence, nor the time to entertain your bruised ego."
"I-how dare you-"
"I dare quite a lot, Mr. Fletcher. What I don't dare is waste my time on men who pursue women half their age with promises of yacht trips and investment portfolios." Jasper's voice dropped, became something almost gentle. Almost kind. "Denice won't be requiring your services. Not now. Not ever. Do I make myself clear?"
He ended the call. Blocked the number. Tossed the phone onto the bedside table where it landed with a crack that made him wince-old habit, Elek had always said he was too rough with equipment-and turned back to the room.
Denice was awake.
Her eyes were open, unfocused, tracking slowly toward him. She blinked, once, twice, and awareness flooded her expression-confusion, then memory, then the careful blankness she wore like armor.
"Where-" She tried to sit up, winced, looked down at the IV in her hand. "What happened?"
"You fainted." He kept his voice neutral. Professional. "Hypoglycemia. Dehydration. Exhaustion." He listed the diagnoses like ingredients. "You're in a private room. You'll be monitored until your vitals stabilize."
She nodded, slow, her fingers finding the edge of the blanket and pulling it higher. "Thank you."
The word surprised him. He hadn't expected gratitude. Hadn't wanted it. Gratitude implied debt, and debt implied connection, and he was determined to have none with this woman.
"Don't thank me yet." He moved closer, stood at the foot of the bed where she had to look up to see him. "Arthur Fletcher called."
Her face changed. The blankness cracked, showing something underneath-shame, maybe. Or fear. "You answered my phone."
"I did."
"That was-" She stopped. Started again. "You had no right-"
"I have every right." He cut her off, felt the anger rising, the same anger that had driven him to threaten her job, to force her compliance, to take her body without tenderness. "You're under contract. Your body is-" He gestured, encompassing the bed, the IV, the situation. "-relevant to my family's interests. Until that contract is fulfilled, you don't make appointments with other men. You don't miss dinner reservations. You don't-"
"Your family's interests?" Her voice was rising, cracking, the first real emotion he'd heard from her. "You mean my son's life? You mean the child you're forcing me to conceive so you can-" She laughed, a broken sound. "So you can what? Feel like you've done your duty? Like you've honored your precious Montgomery blood?"
"I'm ensuring-"
"You're ensuring nothing!" She was sitting up now, despite the IV, despite the dizziness that made her sway. "You're using me. Using my son. Using-" She stopped, swallowed, and when she spoke again her voice was lower, deadlier. "You don't even know what you're doing. You don't know-"
"Then tell me." He moved before he thought, rounding the bed, catching her chin in his hand. Her skin was still hot, fever-warm, and her eyes-green, like his, like Elek's-were wide and wild. "Tell me what I don't know, Denice. Tell me why you married my brother. Tell me why you look at me like-" Like what? Like he'd destroyed her? Like he was destroying her still? "Like this."
She stared at him. Her lips parted. For a moment-just a moment-he saw something in her expression that looked like surrender. Like confession. Like the truth he'd been chasing since he woke up in this hospital five years ago with a hole in his memory and a name on his lips that no one could explain.
Then the door opened.
"Jasper?" The voice was feminine, familiar, and Denice's face transformed. The wildness vanished, replaced by something harder. Something colder.
Something broken.
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8.0
She only wanted to save her brother.
He only wanted an heir to secure his empire.
A contract bound us.
A heartbeat changed us.
I thought the ruthless Alpha was the devil in a tailored suit.
Instead, he became the man fate chained me to... the one my body recognises before my heart will ever dare.
But power demands sacrifice, and love was never part of our deal.
He promised protection, not affection.
I offered my womb, not my soul.
Now I carry his child...
And the secret of who I really am could destroy us both.
9.0
He drew her before he ever met her.
She dreams of him every night... without knowing who he is.
Nora is a brilliant editor in a prestigious journalism company - confident, successful... and completely unaware of her past. But night after night, she dreams of a mysterious warrior prince in a realm that feels far too real. When Edward, the enigmatic new CEO of her branch, walks into her life, her world starts to unravel. He's the son of the company's owner, and though they've never met, he's been drawing her face for years.
As their connection deepens, strange events begin to blur the line between reality and fantasy. What neither of them knows is that their souls are bound - not just in this life, but in another.
In a parallel world, Leela is a fearless warrior and spy, sworn to protect her people. Jing, the prince of a war-torn kingdom, trusts her with his life... but must never love her. Their bond is dangerous. Forbidden. And yet, undeniable.
Two women. Two men.
Two worlds on the brink of war... and love that defies fate.
When destiny calls across dimensions, will they choose duty - or the one their soul remembers?
9.5
"Don't touch me, you monsters!" I screamed, thrashing away from them but it was futile. I was like a little cotton ball they could crumple in their hands because I was pinned to the floor. Dante held my hands as if I was a broomstick and the other, Caius held my legs with just a simple hand without putting any effort. Cassian stood like the big brother he was, watching, giving the orders and Elias squatted before me.
God, how can one be good-looking and wicked at the same time.
He pulled my skirt upwards, used his fingers to rub my pussy which suddenly reacted to his touch and ripped the thong in one swift drag , brushing my delicate core purposely.
I begged, I cried, scared of what they're going to do to me but they were suddenly stones, concerned on what they wanted alone.
"Beat her pretty pink little pussy until she screams." Cassian ordered and I gasped, my heartbeat slamming against my ribs like a war drum.
No.
No, no, no.
"Like this?" He asked darkly, slapping my pussy hard, pain and tingles spread across my body and I screamed.
"Fuck, she's throbbing brother." Elias growled and Cassian nodded, his eyes fixed on my folds.
"Just like that Elias!" He growled, "beat her and show her what it means to defile our rules."
I was living a Peaceful Life until my mum got Married to Vampire King and I was stucked with my three Step brothers who showed me hell and desired me at the same time.
I had to run. These men were sick, they were truly cursed in the brains and needed help because how the hell am I trapped in this?
But where would I run to?
I was trapped.
And the worst part?
They were enjoying every second of it.
TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️ [Contains clear explicit scenes, vulgar and degrading words, kinks and spicy scenes]
7.1
I never should have let my mother hold my future hostage.
She paid my tuition with his father's money. Locked my birth certificate, my transcripts, every scrap of paper I need to survive in a safe I'll never open. And the one thing I had left of my dad, his old watch, she dangled like a noose.
Run, and I lose my education. Fight, and I lose the last piece of the man who actually loved me.
So I moved into the Hunters' mansion. Into the lair of the boy who spent years making my life hell.
Chase Hunter. Six-foot-five of pure venom wrapped in muscle and money. The senior who cornered me in empty hallways, who whispered filth in my ear just to watch me flinch, who smiled that sharp, cruel smile every time I broke a little more.
I thought graduation meant freedom from him.
I was wrong.
Now he's my stepbrother.
He hates that I'm here. Hates my mother for sinking her claws into his father. Hates me most of all, for breathing his air, for walking his halls, for daring to exist where he can reach me.
But hate isn't clean anymore.
It's tangled up in heat. In the way his grey eyes strip me bare every time they land on me. In the way his hand closes around my throat, not to hurt, but to own. In the way he punishes me over his lap, in his car, against walls, until I'm shaking and soaked and furious at myself for wanting more.
He calls me Little Lamb like it's poison on his tongue.
I call him every name I can think of under my breath.
How long until we stop fighting the deadly inferno raging between us and finally let it consume us both?
7.7
Five years ago, Zaria Blackthorne lost everything. Framed as a traitor's daughter, she watched her parents die, was betrayed by her fated mate, Callum Nightbane, and cast into prison-only to be saved by a monster who wanted to ruin her. That night, she should have died. But fate had other plans.
Now, she's back. No longer the naïve girl who once begged for mercy, she has been reborn as Celeste Draven, the temptress of Nightbane Academy. With a new identity, a rare bloodline that makes her irresistible, and a body forged for seduction, she is ready to dismantle the lives of those who betrayed her-one sinful encounter at a time.
But revenge comes at a cost.
Three powerful men are obsessed with her and they are a tool in her revenge games and then she realised the deeper she played, the harder it becomes to keep the men in control.
And what do you think will happen when the truth comes to light, and she discovered she was being played herself? Will she sacrifice her love for vengeance or allow her enemies to burn and claim the throne for herself?
Dive into this story of betrayal, revenge, reverse haram, and obsession, where no man actually owns Zaria Blackthorne.
9.1
I’ve spent eighteen hundred days as a silent ghost in the Crawford estate, a place where the air smells of expensive cigars and terror. My father, Senator Jed Bowen, sold me to Alek Crawford to pay off his gambling debts, trading his daughter’s life for a seat in the Senate.
Alek doesn’t just want my service; he wants my complete submission. He tracks my every move through cameras and bruises my skin just to see if I’ll flinch. He thinks he owns me because he holds the contract, and his mother ensures I’m kept in my place with slaps and insults.
When a scandal involving my half-sister and Alek’s brother hit the news, the house turned into a war zone. Alek cornered me in the dark, his hands stained with blood and ink, whispering that I was nothing but a receipt for his family's money. He’s been forcing me to take pills for years, believing they’ve kept me drugged and mute.
"She needs to speak again," he told a surgeon over the phone. "Whatever it takes."
He thinks he’s fixing a broken toy, but he’s actually planning to carve the silence into my throat permanently. He has no idea that I’ve been switching those pills for years, or that I’m more awake and more dangerous than he could ever imagine.
I’ve endured the biting cold and the crushing weight of his obsession, waiting for a single sign that my nightmare could end. Tonight, a secret message reached me in the rain, confirming that the only man I ever loved has finally finished his mission.
Kole is coming back for me.
The contract review is tomorrow, but I’m not planning on signing anything. I’m planning on taking back everything they stole from me, starting with my voice.