
Secrets Of The Broken Genius Bride
I sold myself to a paralyzed billionaire to pay for my mother's life support.
But my step-sister staged a photo of me with another man, making my new husband think I was a cheating gold-digger.
In a jealous rage, Curtis locked me in a dark panic room.
While trapped, my step-mother sent a picture of her hand on my mom's ventilator plug, forcing me to sneak out to a black-market clinic.
There, they forcibly drained 800cc of my blood to sell.
Half-dead and in severe shock, I dragged myself back home, only for Curtis to confront me with another staged photo of my ex grabbing me outside the clinic.
Believing I had snuck out to see a lover, he ordered his guards to throw my blood-drained body into the freezing wine cellar.
"Please, don't put me down there! I'll die!"
I begged and clung to his wheelchair, but he just kicked my hand away in absolute disgust.
In the pitch-black, 55-degree room, my organs slowly shut down.
I didn't understand why I had to endure this hell, or why he was so blinded by his own fragile ego that he never even noticed how chalk-white my face was.
Hours later, his precious sister needed an emergency transfusion, and they dragged my icy body out to drain me again.
But when the doctor rolled up my sleeve and exposed the horrific, bruised puncture wound, Curtis finally realized the truth.
As he stared at my arm in absolute, paralyzed terror, the EKG machine attached to my chest flatlined.
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Chapter 7
Allie stared at the photo of Glendora's hand on the ventilator cord. Her heart seized in her chest, completely cutting off her air supply.
She scrambled off the cot. She didn't even look for her coat. She stumbled out of the panic room, her legs feeling like lead.
The top-floor hallway was empty. She knew the main elevators were heavily monitored by Curtis's security. Relying on her memory of the penthouse layout, she sprinted toward the kitchen, pushing through the swinging doors to find the emergency exit stairwell connected to the freight elevator.
She leaned her entire body weight against the heavy fire door, forcing it open, and started stumbling down the narrow, dimly lit concrete stairs. Her cheap heels clacked too loudly and made her already trembling legs dangerously unstable. She kicked them off, leaving them on the landing, and continued descending barefoot, her hands dragging against the rough wall to keep herself from collapsing. The freezing concrete bit into the soles of her feet, but the numbness of her starvation overshadowed the pain.
She bypassed the main lobby, slipping through a ventilation maintenance gate in the underground garage, and dragged her exhausted body out onto the chaotic Manhattan street.
She practically collapsed against the side of a yellow cab that had just pulled over.
"Upper East Side. The private clinic on 82nd," Allie gasped, throwing herself into the backseat. She dug into her pockets, pulled out the few crumpled twenty-dollar bills she had, and shoved them through the partition. "Run the red lights. Please!"
The cab screeched to a halt at the back alley entrance of the notorious private clinic. Allie shoved the door open and staggered inside, ignoring the receptionist as she used the hallway walls to support her failing body, inching her way desperately toward the VVIP wing. Her vision was already beginning to swim with black spots, and she was surviving purely on the adrenaline of her mother's ticking clock.
The moment she stepped off the elevator, a hand shot out, grabbed a fistful of her hair, and slammed her violently against the hallway wall.
"Ah!" Allie cried out, her head bouncing off the drywall with a sickening thud.
Glendora stood over her, her face twisted in an ugly sneer.
"You useless piece of trash," Glendora hissed. "You disappear for a whole day? My Brittanie had to suffer for hours because you wouldn't answer your phone!"
Allie ignored the blinding pain in her scalp. She grabbed Glendora's wrist with both hands, her eyes red and wild.
"Show me the video," Allie demanded, her voice shaking. "Show me the live feed of the ventilator. Now."
Glendora sneered. She pulled out her phone and tapped the screen, holding it up.
The live feed showed Danae lying perfectly still in the hospital bed. The machine was pumping rhythmically. The plug was in the wall.
Allie's tense muscles instantly gave out. She slumped against the wall, cold sweat soaking through the back of her thin dress.
The door to the VVIP suite opened. A man in a white coat with shifty eyes stepped out. He was a black-market doctor, operating completely outside of medical board regulations.
"Is the donor ready? We are losing time," the doctor said impatiently.
Two massive orderlies stepped out behind him. They grabbed Allie by the arms and dragged her into the adjacent blood-draw room, shoving her down into a freezing, stainless-steel medical chair.
Through the glass partition, Allie could see into the next room. Brittanie was sitting up in bed, scrolling on her phone, her cheeks flushed and perfectly healthy.
"She's not sick!" Allie screamed, struggling against the orderlies. "You're lying! You're just selling my blood to the black market!"
Glendora walked up and slapped Allie hard across the face. The sharp crack echoed in the sterile room.
"Watch your mouth," Glendora whispered maliciously. "Remember who holds your crazy mother's life in their hands."
The doctor didn't hesitate. He swabbed Allie's arm and jammed a massive, thick needle directly into her vein.
Dark red blood immediately began flowing through the tube into the collection bag.
Allie hadn't eaten or drank anything in over twenty-four hours. As the blood rapidly drained from her body, the room began to spin violently. Black spots danced at the edges of her vision.
The first 400cc bag filled up quickly. Allie let out a weak breath, thinking it was over. She tried to pull her arm away.
The orderly slammed his hand down on her shoulder, pinning her in place.
The doctor calmly swapped the full bag for a completely empty one.
"What are you doing?" Allie gasped, her eyes widening in pure horror. "You can't... I haven't eaten... it will kill me."
Glendora leaned down, her face inches from Allie's ear.
"I have a buyer who needs 800cc today," Glendora whispered like a demon. "If you die, I'll just send your mother's body to the county morgue."
That sentence shattered the last remaining piece of Allie's will to fight.
She closed her eyes. Tears of absolute despair slid down her pale cheeks. She went completely limp in the chair, allowing them to drain her life away.
As the second bag swelled with her blood, the last trace of color vanished from Allie's lips. Her breathing became incredibly shallow, her chest barely moving.
The heart monitor attached to her finger began to beep frantically as her blood pressure plummeted.
The doctor frowned, looking at the numbers. He quickly pulled the needle out. "That's it. Any more and she goes into hypovolemic shock."
Glendora grabbed the two heavy bags of blood. She looked at Allie's half-dead body with pure disgust, then turned toward the doctor. "Lock this door from the outside. Let her rot in here until we get paid. If she dies, just dump her in the alley," she commanded. walked out with the doctor, the heavy click of the deadbolt echoing ominously as they sealed her inside the freezing room.
Allie was left completely alone in the freezing room. No bandage was applied to her arm. No juice, no glucose was offered.
She slowly raised her trembling right hand and pressed her thumb hard against the bleeding puncture wound on her left arm.
She forced her eyes open, fighting the crushing wave of unconsciousness. She had to get back.
She pushed herself off the chair. The moment her bare feet touched the floor and she stood up, the world tilted sideways.
Her legs buckled instantly. Allie collapsed heavily onto the freezing tile floor, her vision fading to black.
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8.1
At sterlinggate university, only one rule matters:
Monsters do not belong.
Yuna never meant to become one.
After being publicly humiliated by her boyfriend , Yuna's emotions spiral out of control, she had a tough encounter with her bully, Megan, triggering a secret she was never meant to awaken. She isn't just a werewolf.
She is a kitsune.
A nine-tailed fox believed to be extinct.
A creature every wolf has been trained to hunt.
When her transformation is exposed, the university goes into lockdown. Hunters flood the campus. Silver charms are distributed. And one order is made clear:
"Kill the kitsune".
The only person willing to protect her is Noah Phillips,the star wolf of the university... and the son of the chief hunter leading the execution.
As danger closes in and her powers grow harder to control, Yuna must choose:
hide and survive, or rise and fight back.
Because if the wolves discover the truth...
They won't just kill her.
They'll start a war.

7.6
The heavy prison gates clanged shut, ending three years. I scanned the empty lot for Julian, my fiancé. Deserted.
Biting December wind my only welcome. Calls to Julian, father, mother: unanswered/disconnected.
Shivering, Julian's tracker showed an unfamiliar Long Island estate. A freezing cab left me penniless; I walked through the blizzard. Through a mansion window, I saw Julian, my stepsister Clara, a small boy—a perfect family. Julian, who hated children, doted on him, and Clara wore *my* engagement ring.
I overheard Julian's call: he, my father, conspired to frame me for Clara’s medical error, saving their company and future. My family hadn't just abandoned me; they plotted my destruction.
A delayed text from Julian popped up, lying about a "cross-border meeting," promising to pick me up tomorrow. Despair vanished, replaced by a cold, terrifying smile. Typing "Understood," I turned from their stolen life, walking into the blizzard, fueled by burning rage.

7.6
Kaylee's family was drowning in debt, and her stepmother locked her inside a freezing bedroom.
To save their bankrupt company, they decided to sell her off to a sixty-five-year-old man with a disgusting reputation.
They cut off her allowance and confiscated the only precious keepsake her dead mother had ever left her.
"Put on the engagement dress, or I will smash your mother's crystal box into a million pieces."
Terrified of the old man, Kaylee risked her life by jumping out of the second-story window into a violent storm.
She hit the muddy ground hard, twisting her ankle and tearing her skin on rusted iron gates as she escaped into the pitch-black night.
Dragging her bleeding bare feet across the cold sand, her lungs felt like they were filled with broken glass.
She didn't understand why she had to be the sacrifice for their endless greed, or how they could be so cruel as to hold her dead mother's memory hostage.
She had absolutely nowhere to go, and the old man's cars were already pulling into the estate to claim her.
Cornered by the blinding headlights of a motorcade on the beach, she threw herself at the feet of Ernest Blackwell, the most ruthless billionaire in New York.
"Marry me! You need a wife, and I need a husband right now!"
To buy her freedom and crush the family that sold her, she chose to sign a twenty-million-dollar fake marriage contract with the devil himself.

7.3
A Collection of hot, short, romantic & Erotic Stories
Warning: This book contains mature content (18+ only) - graphic sexual scenes, explicit language, steamy kinks, and themes that will leave you breathless and craving more. Not suitable for minors. Read at your own risk.
Dive into a scorching anthology that awakens your deepest, most forbidden desires. From possessive CEOs claiming what's theirs, to intense contemporary encounters dripping with seduction, each short story delivers raw passion, explicit heat, and unapologetic sensuality.
Click the "Read" button if you dare!😈

9.3
Marissa was the perfect wife. She traded her high powered corporate ladder for home cooked meals and a designer sanctuary, all to support her husband, Ethan.
But when Ethan confesses to a four month affair not out of guilt, but because his mistress is extorting him for $300 million...Marissa's world turns to ash.Ethan's solution is as twisted as his heart.
"Cheat back. Get even. Stay married."Driven by a cocktail of rage and Revenge, Marissa decides to take him up on his offer. She heads into the night looking for a single moment of rebellion to wash away the scent of Ethan's lies.
She finds it in the arms of a cold, devastatingly masked handsome stranger who makes her forget everything.Broken and fueled by the betrayal, Marissa decides to take the ultimate risk. She slips into an exclusive, members only masquerade club...a place where names don't exist and only desires matter.
Behind a lace mask, she meets him....a man who smells of expensive bourbon and cold command.He is the first person in years to see the fire in her, not just the wife she became.They share a night of scorched....earth passion that leaves Marissa breathless and "even." She leaves before the sun rises, intending for the stranger to remain a ghost of her revenge.
But some ghosts have a name.When the masks come off and the corporate world demands her return, Marissa comes face to face with the man from the club. He isn't just anyone. He is Xavier Sterling....the ruthless billionaire CEO she once worked for, and the man Ethan calls his "best friend."Xavier knows her scent. He knows her touch. And most dangerously, he knows exactly what Ethan did to her.
Now, Marissa has to navigate a world where her husband wants her to stay, the mistress wants her dead, and the CEO wants to own the one woman he was never supposed to touch.
Now, Marissa is caught in a lethal triangle. Xavier wants to own her, Ethan wants to keep her to save his reputation, and the $300 million debt is threatening to drown them all. In a world of billionaire power plays, Marissa is about to learn that revenge is a dish best served... in the CEO's bed.

9.2
When Alma's father stood in front of the bulldozers to protest, the energy company's thugs beat him half to death in the mud.
Instead of arresting the attackers, the police handcuffed her bleeding father and threw him into a cruiser.
"Stay back, kid," the officer barked, shoving Alma away.
Her father was denied bail and framed for assaulting an officer. The corrupt mayor just smiled and told her not to cause a scene. Meanwhile, the company mailed her weeping mother a severance check that barely covered a month of groceries.
Alma was forced to watch her family be completely destroyed by men with money and power.
Kneeling in the cold dirt where her father's blood had spilled, she didn't shed a single tear. The panic in her chest died, replaced by a cold, absolute hatred.
She realized that crying wouldn't do anything. In this world, justice didn't exist for the weak.
Years later, Alma stepped onto a prestigious Ivy League campus, her cheap backpack slung over her shoulder.
She was surrounded by the arrogant children of the very executives who ruined her life.
She lowered her head, hiding her dead eyes, and put on the perfect mask of a timid, helpless charity case.
Undergrad was just a training ground, and these elite kids were just her practice dummies. The hunt was officially on.