Seven Minutes with my Ex's Uncle
It was meant to be the happiest night of Layla's life-her eighteenth, the moment she officially stepped into adulthood.
Instead, she walked into a crowded nightclub and watched her boyfriend laugh, drink, and kiss another girl while the world looked on.
Humiliation followed swiftly. Dragged into a cruel game of Truth or Dare, Layla became the night's entertainment. When the bottle landed on her, the challenge sounded harmless enough: seven minutes in heaven with a man of her choice.
Everyone expected her to choose him.
She didn't.
Her gaze went to the man watching silently from the shadows-his uncle. The one man she was never supposed to want, yet couldn't look away from.
Seven minutes was all it took to spark something forbidden. Something dark. Something that refused to stay contained.
When the night ended, nothing returned to normal. He became her obsession and most dangerous temptation. And Layla found herself willing to risk everything-family, reputation, even her own heart-for a man she was never meant to desire.
This is a story of betrayal, passion, and the pull of a love that should never exist.
Once caught in it, there is no turning back.
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Chapter 5
Layla stared at her phone from the edge of the bed, her back straight, her hands clenched so tightly in her lap that her fingers ached. The room felt smaller now as the walls closed in with every vibration of the device. She didn't need to look at the screen because she already knew but still, the name flashed anyway.
Liam.
Her stomach twisted-not with longing, not with regret-but with a sharp, familiar dread. The kind that settled deep in her bones and refused to leave, no matter how much time passed.
Her phone rang once more and then again.
Finally, with a breath that felt scraped raw from her lungs, she answered.
"Why aren't you here?" Liam demanded the moment the call connected.
"I'm not coming," Layla said as she closed her eyes.
The silence on the other end stretched, long and heavy, like a held breath before impact.
"What do you mean you're not coming?" he asked slowly, his voice dropping into something colder.
"What I mean by that is that I'm not coming means I'm not coming," Layla replied, forcing calm into her tone even as her pulse thundered in her ears. "I don't want to see you."
A sharp exhale crackled through the line. "You don't get to do that, Layla."
Her fingers tightened around the phone. "I do."
There was another longer pause this time.
Then his voice hardened. "Is this because of him?"
Layla didn't answer.She didn't need to.
"That's what I thought," Liam continued, his tone laced with something ugly. "You humiliated me. Do you have any idea what people are saying?"
"No,Liam. You humiliated me," she shot back, the words finally tearing free. "I saw you at the club,kissing a girl and you saw me and acted like I wasn't even standing there."
"Fuck, Layla. That didn't mean anything." Liam said as he gave out a humorless laugh.
"But it meant something to me," Layla said, her voice shaking despite her effort. "And I'm done."
The shift in him was immediate-like a switch being flipped.
"You don't walk away from me like this," he said, the warmth draining completely from his voice.
"I just did."
"You think you're safe?" he snapped. "You think hiding behind silence is going to protect you?"
Layla's heart slammed violently against her ribs.
"Layla," Liam continued, his voice dropping into something darker, more intimate, "you owe me and I don't forget."
Her throat tightened. "You don't own me."
A soft, dangerous chuckle answered her. "Careful."
She swallowed. "I'm hanging up."
"You'll regret this," he said instantly. "You think you're the first girl who thought she could walk away from my family?"
Her breath caught. "Your family?"
"You really think this is just about you and me?" Liam continued smoothly. "You think you can play games with people like us and walk away untouched?"
Layla's grip on the phone loosened slightly-not from fear this time, but something colder.
"Elias," Liam said casually. "You know who he is to me, right?"
She said nothing.
"He's my uncle," Liam went on. "My blood,my family. And you think he's some stranger you can disappear from?"
Layla exhaled slowly.
"I know," she said.
That made him pause.
"You know?" he repeated, surprise flickering through his voice.
"Yes," Layla said quietly. "I know he's your uncle, everyone knows and even you know that I know. So why act surprised?."
The silence that followed was sharp, recalibrating.
"You still went with him," Liam said, his voice lowering. "You still let him touch you."
Her jaw tightened. "Don't."
"You didn't just betray me," he continued, anger bleeding through now. "You embarrassed me in front of him."
"You embarrassed yourself," she said, her voice steadier than she felt. "The two years we dated was nothing but a waste and I'm not doing this anymore."
"You don't get to decide that," Liam snapped. "You don't get to choose him over me."
"I didn't choose anyone," Layla said. "I chose myself."
He laughed again, but this time there was no humor in it. "You're naïve if you think this ends here."
"I'm done," she repeated. "Don't call me again."
"You think he's going to protect you?" Liam said, his voice sharp with something that sounded like jealousy-and something worse. "You think my uncle doesn't destroy everything he touches?"
Layla's chest tightened as she heard those words.
"Stay away from him," Liam added. "Or I'll make sure you regret it."
"I'm not afraid of you," she lied.
"You should....."
Layla ended the call before Liam could finish rambling.The silence afterward was deafening.
Layla sat there, phone still pressed to her ear, listening to nothing-her heart racing, her hands trembling as if they'd been stripped of strength. Slowly, she lowered the phone and stared at the dark screen, half-expecting it to light up again but it didn't.
She stood abruptly, needing distance from the bed, from the room, from the thoughts spiraling too fast inside her head, and walked into the bathroom.
She splashed cold water on her face, gripping the edge of the sink as she looked at her reflection-pale skin, flushed cheeks, eyes too bright with things she didn't want to feel and then-unbidden, unwanted-
Elias.
The memory surfaced without permission.
His hand at her back as if he'd known exactly where she would be before she did.The sound of his voice-low, controlled-sliding beneath her skin like a command she hadn't questioned.
Her breath hitched.She squeezed her eyes shut, but the images sharpened instead-the heat, the closeness, the way the world had narrowed until it felt like there was only the two of them and the danger humming between their bodies.
She leaned her forehead against the mirror, breathing shallow.
"This is wrong," she whispered.
But her body didn't listen. She slowly removed her clothes as her thoughts spiraled, replaying the way he'd looked at her-not like something fragile, not like something to be careful with-but like something he wanted. Something he'd already decided belonged in his hands. Her mind drifted through every move made on her. She found her hand drifting onto her nipples and pulling on them, really hard, and even pinching them to the point where it hurt. Her other hand was of course caressing her ass and then her finger pushing itself into her anus.
She took her shampoo and poured on her body ,savouring and anticipating every drop of water that touched her skin. She washed her body as soapy hands caressed her nipples and held her breasts.
She snaked down and over her belly and slipped sexily between my thighs. Her pussy jumped in anticipation as she washed her legs and then poured more shower gel onto her hands.
Layla's hands came up onto her breasts and cupped them again. She pushed the soap all over them and while holding them up she leant against the shower wall and tweaked her nipples hard. She felt a jolt of pleasure shoot through me. She reached for the shower head and adjusted it so that the water fell over her belly and onto her pussy. Her hands came back onto her nipples as she stared dreamily out of the shower.
She pinched her nipples a few more times while Elias gaze and touch stuck on her mind.
Her hands finally snaked down to her waist. She followed her curves and loved how it felt.
Layla thought that when Elias does this, it would make her go all soft and weak at the knees, but she had to admit, she only once felt those caresses when Elias fingered her.
Her hands rested on her hips for a while before one of them started to caress her ass. Her hands seemed to have a mind of their own, like they knew what to do without any instruction from her. Both of her hands caressed her ass and she felt a finger probe along the cleft of her anus. It hovered over the hole, waiting to be told what to do.
She looked up at the shower head. The water was still pouring over her body. She reached up and unhooked it with her right hand while the finger of her left hand had its way with her ass. Finger pushed itself inside, it wiggled itself about and then the shower head came up between her thighs and she felt hot, powerful jets of water caress her pussy lips. She held the shower head between her thighs as her fingers caressed her lips and clitoris. Her eyes were now opening and closing as she concentrated on several intrusions and sensations all at the same time.
She removed her finger from her ass and replaced the shower head in its holder. She was lusty, too lusty and horny to ignore it.
She murmured the word "fuck" as she slid her three fingers into her pussy and started bucking herself up and down. In no time,her orgasm exploded out of her as his name lingered on her lips before she could stop it. She gasped loudly as it ripped its way out and washed itself away with the water.
The intensity made Layla collapse onto the shower floor. Her legs opened slightly as she relaxed.. She was breathing heavily and her thighs were still twitching as she stood up. She finally raised herself into the full flow of the water and started to breathe a little more easily.
When it finally passed, she straightened slowly, shame and craving tangling so tightly she couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.She hated that she wanted him,hated that even now-after the threats, the warnings, the knowledge of who he was-her body remembered him better than it remembered fear.
Layla turned off the light and walked back into her room, unaware that this was only the beginning because once desire learned a name, it never forgot it.
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8.4
She'd spent her whole life hearing the same thing: cold, distant and untouchable.Like she was something behind glass-safe to admire, impossible to reach.
Then she met him.
A man who was sitting in the dark when she walked in. A stranger in her mother's house. All hard edges and quiet intensity, the kind of man who didn't need to raise his voice to fill a room. When he looked at her, really looked, something shifted. The air got thicker which made her pulse kicked up in a way she'd never felt before.
He didn't touch her because he didn't have to.
He just muttered one word;low and rough, like gravel and honey.
"Kneel."
And she did.
Not because she was weak,not because she didn't know better but because for the first time in her life, someone saw past the glass and the careful distance she'd built around herself. He saw what she'd been hiding-the part of her that wanted to be taken, not just touched.
"Yes, Daddy."
The words left her mouth before she could think. And when they did, something inside her cracked wide open.
From that night on, Jessy wasn't the girl people whispered about anymore. She was the woman who'd tasted danger and couldn't get enough. The one who finally understood what it meant to feel.
7.8
THIS IS A DARK ROMANCE FEATURING DARK CONTENT AND MORALLY AMBIGUOUS CHARACTERS.
Peyton has been in her marriage, enduring the pain of watching Odin, her husband, flirt and cheat in the guise of an open marriage-a decision he made without her agreement.
She hit a dead end when Odin broke the number one rule: bringing one of his flings to their home, their bed. That's when she made an impulsive decision-cheat and not feel guilty.
He wants her to get a boyfriend? No, she'd do him one better. One night, that's all it took, and the next day she finds herself tangled with her husband's brother.
Axel-He's a live wire, pure mischief and untamed. He doesn't just give Peyton what she's been starved of; he ignites a fire she didn't know she had, making her crave the wild freedom only he offers. With Axel, it's not just a fling; it's an explosion of everything forbidden.
Raphael-A little unhinged? More like a master of controlled chaos. He's the kind of man who sears himself into your soul, leaving an unforgettable mark deep in your memories. Raphael doesn't just flip a switch in your brain; he rewires it entirely, making you question every sane choice you've ever made.
Ready to dive deeper into Peyton's dangerous game?
7.9
On Christmas Eve, the snow fell in relentless sheets.
My grandmother and I were cast out into the snow as if we were nothing by my uncle.
My aunt cursed me as a bad luck charm, while my uncle's boot landed fiercely in my chest.
I knelt in the freezing snow, clutching my grandmother's body as it grew cold, my nails digging into my flesh, convinced that death awaited us tonight.
Suddenly, the blinding headlights cut through the night.
A convoy of Rolls-Royce cars, bearing diplomatic plates, silently blocked the entrance to the rundown neighborhood.
The elderly butler strode directly to my grandmother, who had been "blind" for forty years, and knelt on one knee, "Your Highness, forgive us for arriving so late."
8.9
I lived as the "scarred ghost" of the Stephens penthouse, a wife kept in the shadows because my facial burns offended my billionaire husband's aesthetic. For years, I endured Kason's coldness and my family's abuse, a submissive puppet who believed she had nowhere else to go.
The end came with a blue folder tossed onto my silk sheets. Kason's mistress was back, and he wanted me out by sunset, offering a five-million-dollar "silence fee" to go hide my face in the countryside.
The betrayal cut deep when I discovered my father had already traded my divorce for a corporate bailout. My step-sister mocked my "trashy" appearance at a high-end boutique, while the sales staff treated me like a common thief. At home, my father threatened to cut off my mother's life-saving medicine unless I crawled back to Kason to beg for a better deal.
I was the girl who took the blame for a fire she didn't start, the wife who worshipped a man who never looked her in the eye, and the daughter used as a human bargaining chip. I was supposed to be broken, penniless, and desperate.
But the woman who stood up wasn't the weak Elease Finch anymore; she was Phoenix, a tactical predator with a $500 million secret. I signed the divorce papers without a single tear, walked past my stunned husband, and wiped the Finch family's bank accounts clean with a few taps on my phone.
"Your money is dirty," I told Kason with a cold smile. "I prefer clean hands."
The cage is open, the hunt has begun, and I'm starting with the people who thought a scar made me weak.
7.4
For three years, I documented the slow death of my marriage in a black journal. It was my 100-point divorce plan: for every time my husband, Blake, chose his first love, Ariana, over me, I deducted points. When the score hit zero, I would leave.
The final points vanished the night he left me bleeding out from a car crash. I was eight weeks pregnant with the child we had prayed for.
In the ER, the nurses frantically called him-the star surgeon of the very hospital I was dying in.
"Dr. Santos, we have a Jane Doe, O-negative, bleeding out. She's pregnant, and we're about to lose them both. We need you to authorize an emergency blood transfer."
His voice came over the speaker, cold and impatient.
"I can't. My priority is Miss Whitfield. Do what you can for the patient, but I can't divert anything right now."
He hung up. He condemned his own child to death to ensure his ex-girlfriend had resources on standby after a minor procedure.
8.3
"I don't want your money, Elara. I want the five years you took from me."
Elara's world shatters when her father gambles away her freedom to the most dangerous man in the city. Silas Vane isn't just a ruthless billionaire; he's the Alpha of the Blackwood Pack, and he's been hunting Elara for years.
To Elara, he's a stranger holding a debt she can never pay. To Silas, she is the mate who vanished, leaving him with a scarred heart and a thirst for vengeance. Trapped in his obsidian estate, Elara must navigate a world of shifting shadows and primal instincts. As the line between captor and protector blurs, a dark secret begins to surface: Elara isn't as human as she thinks, and her "debt" was written in blood long before she was born.
Can she escape the Alpha's golden-eyed gaze, or will she finally remember why she ran in the first place?