Seducing My Ex's Ruthless Billionaire Uncle
My family's company went bankrupt, and my biological father was lying in the ICU, kept alive by machines that cost tens of thousands a day.
I thought it was just a tragic business failure, until I caught my mother in bed with my stepfather.
They had secretly transferred all our assets months ago, deliberately bankrupting the company and leaving my father to die.
To pay the hospital bills, my stepfather forced me to a private club, trying to sell me to a sleazy investor.
When I refused, he slapped me across the face, and my mother just looked at me with cold, dead eyes.
"Be realistic, Jaelynn. A woman's body is a tool. Use it to get what you need."
Later, right before my father's emergency surgery, my stepfather signed a Do Not Resuscitate order and froze the medical accounts.
"If you don't get on your knees and spread your legs for him, I will tell the hospital to pull your father's plug."
Standing in the freezing rain, covered in mud and blood, I stared at the astronomical hospital bill in my hand.
My own family had plotted to murder my father and sell me to the highest bidder. The betrayal shattered every ounce of sanity I had left.
I didn't cry or beg them anymore.
Instead, I pulled out a water-stained, gold-embossed business card.
It belonged to Dolph Valentine, the most ruthless billionaire in New York and my ex-fiancé's uncle.
If they wanted to destroy my life, I was going to sell my soul to the biggest monster of them all and drag them straight to hell.
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Chapter 6
Dolph's cold question hung in the air like a guillotine.
Gordon's face turned a sickly shade of pale, then flushed bright red. He quickly lowered his eyes, unable to meet his uncle's dominant stare.
"I... I'm sorry, Uncle Dolph. I didn't know," Gordon stammered, his voice trembling. He grabbed Benji by the arm and practically ran down the hallway to escape the suffocating pressure.
Dolph watched them leave. Once the hallway was empty, he stepped back and slammed the heavy door shut.
He turned around.
Jaelynn slowly stood up from behind the lockers. Her back was soaked in cold sweat. She leaned against the wood paneling, gasping for air as if she had just survived a drowning.
Dolph calmly reached down and pulled up the zipper of his trousers. He walked over to her, raising his hand.
He pinched her chin between his thumb and index finger, forcing her to look up at him.
"This kind of cheap trick only works once," he warned, his eyes narrowing into dangerous slits.
Jaelynn's stomach churned with humiliation, but she gritted her teeth. "As long as it works, once is enough."
Dolph scoffed. He dropped his hand, turning away from her in disgust.
He walked over to his jacket, pulled a sleek, black American Express Centurion card from his wallet, and tossed it at her.
The heavy metal card hit her bare collarbone and clattered onto the floor.
"Get out," Dolph ordered, his voice devoid of any emotion. "And don't ever show your face in front of me again."
Jaelynn stared at the black card on the floor. She didn't bend down to pick it up. If she took the money, the transaction was over. She would just be a high-priced prostitute. She needed his power, not a one-time payout.
She took a deep breath. She smoothed down the wrinkles in her white tennis dress, straightened her spine, and walked past him. She opened the door and left without saying a single word.
Meanwhile, out in the main lobby, Gordon was pacing. His mind was racing. Something felt wrong. He remembered a faint, sweet smell lingering in the hallway outside the locker room.
Chanel No. 5.
It was Jaelynn's signature scent.
Gordon stopped pacing. His eyes turned dark and vicious. He spun around and marched back toward the VIP locker room hallway.
When Gordon turned the corner, the hallway was empty. But his eyes immediately locked onto a piece of clothing draped over a leather bench outside Dolph's door.
It was a white women's tennis jacket.
Gordon walked over and snatched it up. He checked the collar. Embroidered in gold thread on the tag was the letter "J".
Gordon's pupils contracted. The veins in his forehead bulged against his skin.
He finally realized who the woman hiding in his uncle's room was.
A violent, sickening wave of betrayal and jealousy crashed over him. He threw the jacket onto the floor, stomping on it. He swore to make that shameless bitch pay.
On the other side of the club, Jaelynn slipped out a side door and walked toward the main pathways.
Her phone suddenly vibrated violently in her pocket. It was a text from Artie.
She opened it. It was a photo of the heart monitor in her father's ICU room. The numbers were dangerously erratic.
Beneath the photo was a message: Ortega is waiting for you at the outdoor tennis courts. Don't make him wait.
Jaelynn stared at the jagged green lines of her father's heartbeat. Her throat tightened. She had no way out. She forced her legs to move, walking toward the outdoor courts.
The midday sun was blinding. The courts were surrounded by New York's elite, sitting under white umbrellas.
Jaelynn immediately spotted Ortega. The fat, balding investor was sitting in a prime seat.
When Ortega saw her walking toward him in the tight dress, a disgusting, greedy light ignited in his eyes. He waved his hand, yelling at her to come pour his drink.
Jaelynn fought down the urge to vomit. She walked over to his table.
As she reached for the pitcher of water, she froze.
Walking onto the red clay court, dressed in pristine white athletic gear, was Dolph Valentine.
What shocked her even more was Ortega's reaction.
The ruthless Wall Street shark, who held her father's life in his hands, instantly jumped up from his chair. Ortega practically ran to the edge of the court, bowing and smiling like an obedient dog.
Ortega grabbed a fresh towel and offered it to Dolph, kissing up to him with sickening desperation.
Jaelynn stood frozen. She watched Dolph completely ignore Ortega. Dolph didn't even look at the man.
In that split second, Jaelynn truly understood the terrifying hierarchy of power. Artie was terrified of Ortega. Ortega was terrified of Dolph.
If she could chain herself to Dolph, Artie and Ortega would be nothing but insects to be crushed.
This realization hardened the ice in her veins. She would not let Dolph go. Even if it destroyed her.
Ortega, embarrassed by Dolph's rejection, walked back to the table. To regain his pathetic sense of dominance, he reached out and squeezed Jaelynn's thigh, hard.
Jaelynn gasped, the pain sharp and sudden. Her hand twitched, wanting to slap him across the face.
But the image of the heart monitor flashed in her mind.
She forced her hand down. She dug her fingernails into her own palms, breaking the skin again. She forced a stiff, dead smile onto her face and poured the water.
Out on the court, Dolph swung his racket.
As he followed through, his dark eyes flicked toward the umbrellas. He saw Ortega's hand on Jaelynn's leg. He saw her swallow her pride and endure it.
Dolph's grip on his racket tightened. A sudden, inexplicable surge of irritation flared in his chest.
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9.2
For a thousand years, the city of Crescent Falls has survived beneath the shadow of an ancient savior. Each century, a man is chosen as an offering to Sariyah-the being said to have once driven demons from the world. When Bastion, the man Ember loves, is taken after daring to refuse her, Ember's grief turns into defiance, and she vows to bring him home no matter the cost.
Her search forces her into an uneasy alliance with Orion St. James, a dangerously charming immortal with a violent past and secrets tied to Sariyah herself. Bound together by a magic neither of them wants nor understands, Ember and Orion are drawn into a hidden war beneath the city-one involving cultists, monsters, and an ancient order known as the Watchers.
As Crescent Falls begins to fracture, Ember experiences unsettling visions that hint her bloodline is far more entangled with Sariyah than anyone ever suspected. Strange new powers awaken within her, blurring the line between protector and destroyer, while enemies gather and old loyalties are tested.
With the city on the brink of collapse and unseen forces moving in the shadows, Ember must decide how far she is willing to go to save Bastion-and whether becoming something darker is the only way to stop an evil that has ruled unchallenged for centuries.
Because some thrones are not inherited.
They are taken.
7.7
Not only was I drugged, blinded and assaulted. I was deceived into carrying a baby by a stranger I never knew. Then he appeared and took my child away.
I was sent to a militia by the father of my child. I thought I was rescued but I was recruited to be a weapon for killing. Who was manipulating me, I didn't know. The answers were far from what I knew.
Forced to blend into the world that I could never believe I would be to, a place where brutality reigned, kill or be killed was the only language. I have survived but he has to pay for everything he did to me, because I believed every phase of my life was set by him and him alone. Have I really survived?
Who would have thought, he existed twice in the same world? Do I really know who I should take revenge on? Him or the person I would sacrifice everything for?
Was my mother the one who orchestrated everything? What kind of pawn am I?
8.8
I am the best esports jungler in the league, but I've been hiding a severe wrist injury just to keep my team alive in the semifinals.
Right in the middle of the crucial tie-breaker game, our mid-laner deliberately walked into the enemy team and died without casting a single defensive spell.
He was match-fixing for offshore betting sites, throwing away our entire season for a massive payout.
Because of his betrayal, we had to sub in two terrified rookies, and we were absolutely slaughtered. The stadium crowd booed us out of the arena. The internet exploded with pure vitriol, trending hashtags calling me a washed-up fraud who hid on the bench to save my own stats. The media demanded I retire immediately. My physical therapist gave me a grim ultimatum: my shredded nerves only allow me four hours of playtime a day before my right hand completely locks up.
I destroyed my own body for this team, only to be sold out by a coward and crucified by the very fans I bled for. Why should my legacy end in total disgrace because of someone else's greed?
I refuse to step down. I forced the traitor out, ignored management's safe roster choices, and locked my eyes on the most toxic, universally hated streamer on the platform.
"He's a walking PR nightmare," my coach warned.
I don't care. He is an arrogant, unhinged killer in the game, and I am going to make him mine.
8.5
Five years ago, Nina Hale lost everything... her family, her reputation, and the man she once loved. Betrayed by her own sister and abandoned by those she trusted most, she disappeared without a trace.
Now she's back.
With a new identity and a burning determination, Nina is ready to reclaim her life and chase the dream she once gave up: becoming a star actress. But her return awakens old enemies, and her scheming sister Lydia is determined to ruin her again.
Just when Nina thinks things can't get worse, she's caught in another trap... and unexpectedly crosses paths with a quiet, lonely little boy.
Ethan Grant hasn't spoken in years.
Feeling responsible for him, Nina agrees to stay and help the child come out of his shell. But she didn't expect Ethan's dangerously charming father, Lucas Grant, to enter the picture.
Cold, powerful, and impossible to read, Lucas slowly finds himself drawn to the woman who brightens his son's world.
What begins as a simple act of kindness soon turns into something far more complicated, because Nina came back for revenge.
She never planned to fall in love.
**********
"I saw you with him," Lucas said quietly, but the tension in his jaw gave him away.
Nina exhaled, crossing her arms. "You don't get to care."
"Don't I?" He stepped in, close enough that she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes.
"This is just a contract."
"Then why does it bother me?" His hand hovered near her waist, not touching-yet.
"It shouldn't." Her breath faltered.
His gaze darkened, "And yet it does."
9.6
I was the Chicago Outfit's princess, and Luca and Matteo were my sworn protectors. We had mixed our blood at ten years old, promising that nothing would ever touch me.
But that oath turned to ash the night Sofia Ricci aimed a Roman candle at my chest.
The firework slammed into my shoulder, igniting my silk dress instantly. As I rolled on the concrete, screaming while the flames ate into my skin, I waited for my boys to save me.
They didn't.
Instead, I watched through the smoke as they rushed to Sofia. They wrapped their jackets—the ones meant to shield me—around the girl who had just set me on fire, comforting her because the "kickback" had scared her.
They let me burn to keep her warm.
When I woke up in the hospital with permanent scars, they brought me a letter of apology from her and defended her "accident." They even cut their palms to pay her debt, ignoring the fact that I was the one in bandages.
That was the moment Elena Vitiello died.
I didn't scream. I didn't beg. I simply packed my bags and defected to the one place they couldn't follow: the arms of Dante Moretti, the lethal Capo of New York.
By the time they realized their mistake and came crawling back to beg in the rain, I was already wearing another man's ring.
"You want forgiveness?" I asked, looking down at them.
"Burn for it."
9.7
She came to kill him.
He made her his queen.
Valeria Romano spent five years with one purpose ... destroy Lorenzo De Luca, the mafia king who murdered her father. She trained in silence, sacrificed everything, and finally had him in her crosshairs on a cold Sicilian night.
Then he showed her the truth.
Her father's killer was never Lorenzo.
It was the man who held her at the funeral. The man she called every week for five years. The man who handed her the wrong name and watched her walk toward the wrong target while he rebuilt his empire on her father's grave.
Her uncle Marco.
Now Valeria is bound to the enemy she came to destroy ... in a contract marriage she didn't choose, inside a world she doesn't yet understand, hunting a man who has been ten steps ahead of everyone for twenty years.
But Marco has never faced a woman who has nothing left to lose.
As the truth unravels and the bodies pile up and the line between hatred and something far more dangerous begins to blur ... Valeria must decide who she is willing to become to protect the people she loves.
Because in Lorenzo De Luca's world, power is everything.
And she is about to become the most powerful thing in it.
Some wars are fought with guns. The deadliest ones are fought from the inside.