Shattered Vows: Falling For His Worst Enemy
For three years, I played the perfect, docile wife to Brendon Jimenez, desperate for the real family I never had as an orphan.
But during a high-society gala, I peeked through a cracked door and caught him sleeping with my best friend.
When I packed my cheap canvas bag to leave the penthouse, my mother-in-law blocked the door.
She dumped my clothes on the marble floor, called me a stray dog, and slapped me so hard my mouth bled.
Brendon just stood there, watching his mother humiliate me.
To keep me trapped as his perfect public prop, he even faked his mother's heart attack in a VIP hospital suite.
"Get on your knees. Kneel down right now and beg my mother for forgiveness until she decides to accept it."
I gave them my youth and unconditional loyalty, only to realize this prestigious old-money family was nothing but a rotting corpse built on dirty secrets.
I didn't cry, and I certainly didn't drop to my knees.
Instead, I pulled out my phone right in front of him and called my lawyer.
"File for an at-fault divorce. I have proof of his infidelity with Kaelynn Hudson. I want him ruined."
Then, I touched the matte black card hidden deep in my clutch.
It belonged to Kile Barrett, the ruthless billionaire shark my husband feared most, and I was going to use him to tear the Jimenez family apart.
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Chapter 2
Christen's pulse hammered against Kile's thumb where it pressed into her jawline. Her body acted on pure survival instinct. She tried to pull back, to put distance between herself and the danger radiating from him.
Kile's fingers tightened just enough to stop her. He held her in place, forcing her to maintain the awkward, upward angle.
Her brain scrambled for an exit. She forced the corners of her mouth up, stretching her lips into the polite, empty smile she used at charity galas.
"Mr. Barrett," she managed to say, her voice tight.
Kile released her jaw. As he pulled his hand back, the rough pad of his thumb dragged slowly across her skin. The brief friction sent a violent shiver down her spine.
He leaned back against the leather upholstery, picking up his crystal glass of whiskey. He took a slow sip, his dark eyes tracking her every movement with predatory amusement.
Christen felt her skin crawl under his stare. She grabbed her clutch from the table, her knuckles white. She needed to leave. Now.
"Brendon seems to be quite busy tonight," Kile said. His voice was a lazy drawl, but the words hit like a physical blow.
Christen froze. Her muscles locked up.
The humiliation burned through the lingering fear. She slammed her clutch back onto the table and sat back down. She met his gaze, her eyes blazing with reckless defiance.
She leaned forward, letting the neckline of her dress dip slightly.
"Are you afraid of the Jimenez family, Mr. Barrett?" she asked, her tone dripping with fake sweetness and real provocation.
Kile let out a harsh, dismissive scoff. It was the sound of a man who found the very concept of fear insulting.
He suddenly leaned forward. The space between them vanished. His face was inches from hers, his broad chest trapping her against the back of the booth. The sheer physical presence of him sucked the oxygen out of her lungs.
He lowered his voice, the sound vibrating directly against her ear.
"We both know your marriage is nothing but a cheap stage play, Christen."
A cold sweat broke out across the back of her neck. Her stomach twisted into a tight knot. He knew. He knew exactly what was happening upstairs.
She gathered the last shreds of her dignity. She pushed her shoulders back and glared at him.
"You clearly don't know how to respect a woman," she said, her voice shaking with suppressed rage.
She stood up abruptly, the edge of the table digging into her thighs.
Kile didn't try to stop her this time. He just watched her with the calm, patient eyes of a hunter watching a trapped animal struggle.
Christen turned and walked away fast. Her heels clicked sharply against the floor. She didn't stop until she reached the hotel lobby, hiding behind a massive Roman pillar. She leaned her back against the cool marble, dragging air into her burning lungs.
She smoothed down her skirt. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She locked the perfect, unbothered wife mask back onto her face.
She walked toward the elevators, intending to go straight down to the underground garage and leave.
The silver doors slid open.
Brendon and Kaelynn were standing inside. They were laughing. They looked immaculate, as if they hadn't just destroyed her life ten minutes ago.
Christen's fingernails dug so hard into her palms that the skin nearly broke. The urge to swing her heavy clutch directly into Kaelynn's smiling face was a physical ache in her arm.
Kaelynn stepped forward and linked her arm through Christen's.
"Where have you been? We've been looking everywhere for you," Kaelynn whined, her voice laced with fake concern.
Christen's eyes dropped to the side of Kaelynn's neck. Right below her collarbone, a fresh, red mark stained her skin.
A wave of nausea hit Christen so hard she almost gagged.
She pulled her arm out of Kaelynn's grasp, her movements stiff.
"I had too much champagne. I was in the restroom," Christen said. Her voice sounded hollow, like it belonged to someone else.
Brendon stepped closer. He reached out, his hand aiming for the curve of her waist to play the role of the doting husband.
Christen flinched. She took a sharp half-step backward, completely avoiding his touch.
The air in the elevator instantly turned heavy.
Brendon's hand hung in the air. His eyes narrowed, a flash of irritation and suspicion crossing his face. Kaelynn shifted uncomfortably, offering a nervous laugh to fill the silence.
The elevator pinged, arriving at the garage level.
"I have a migraine. I'm taking a car home," Christen said. She didn't wait for an answer. She walked out of the elevator, leaving them staring at her back.
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9.3
They say you can't have it all. I'm about to prove them wrong-or destroy myself trying.
When my struggling mother married billionaire Richard Stone, I thought I was gaining a family. Instead, I found three stepbrothers who became my obsession, my downfall, and my salvation.
Dominic, the eldest, cold and commanding, who kisses me like he's claiming his kingdom and looks at me like I'm the only thing he can't control.
Julian, the charming playboy who hides a vulnerable soul beneath his perfect smile, making me feel like I'm the only woman he's ever truly seen.
Asher, the brooding artist who paints me like I'm his muse and touches me like I'm his masterpiece, seeing parts of my soul I didn't know existed.
They're forbidden. They're dangerous. They're everything I shouldn't want.
But when I discover my father didn't die by suicide that he was murdered by the very man who now calls himself my stepfather, these three powerful men becomes my unlikely allies.
First it was a forbidden attraction, now it's an arrangement that defies every rule.
The rules are simple:
I'll give each of them a chance.
I'll take everything they offer.
And in the end, I'll have to make the hardest decision of my life:
Choose one of them. Choose all of them. Or choose myself.
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.
7.1
Bonnie Galvan woke up to the suffocating scent of lilies, staring at the mirror in the exact same seven-figure wedding dress she had worn seven years ago.
In the doorway stood her so-called best friend Itzel and her secret lover Erwin, desperately urging her to elope.
They warned her that her soon-to-be husband, the billionaire Arlington Townsend, was a crippled monster, and marrying him would ruin her life forever.
In her previous life, she blindly believed their lies and ran away from the altar.
Because of her public betrayal, the ruthless Townsend family completely bankrupted her father's company in retaliation.
Erwin and Itzel swooped in as her saviors, only to steal whatever was left of her family's wealth and power.
When she was finally stripped of her value, Erwin pushed her down an icy mountain slope during a brutal blizzard.
With a shattered ankle, she could only watch as Itzel smirked and Erwin coldly walked away, leaving her to be buried alive under the freezing snow.
As her lungs burned and her heart gave out in the agonizing cold, she was consumed by hatred.
Why did the man who swore to protect her and the friend she trusted with her life plot so meticulously to destroy her?
Opening her eyes again, Bonnie was back in the bridal suite, minutes before the ceremony.
This time, she didn't run.
She walked straight down the aisle, looked the terrifying Arlington Townsend in the eye, and firmly said her vows.
"I do."
7.1
For six years, I played the pathetic, wolfless Omega to honor the dying wish of the late Alpha who protected me.
But on our sixth anniversary, my fated mate, Alpha Kian, was photographed looking tenderly at his mistress.
When he finally stormed into our penthouse, he didn't apologize. Instead, he threw a fifty-million-dollar check onto the bed.
"Take the money and accept my rejection obediently, or I'll show you what happens when you defy an Alpha."
To force my compliance, he terminated all trade agreements with my best friend's pack, pushing them to the brink of bankruptcy. He accused me of blackmailing his grandfather into our marriage, entirely blind to the fact that his beloved mistress was actually a banished, feral Rogue.
I had spent six years swallowing my pride, drinking toxic herbs to suppress my true White Wolf scent, and enduring his absolute disgust just to keep his pack safe.
Why did I bleed for a man who despised my very existence?
I looked at the blood money, and the suffocating sorrow in my chest was instantly replaced by white-hot fury.
I didn't take a single cent. Instead, I submitted the rejection papers myself, dropped my pathetic disguise, and walked out into the freezing rain.
A towering warrior with a black umbrella dropped to one knee before me in the mud.
It was time to stop hiding and return home as the billionaire heir of the legendary Silvermoon Pack.
7.8
Elodie was the Evans family's adopted daughter, living in a cold, isolated room while her sister Bristol enjoyed a life of luxury. Secretly, she was a top-tier freelance operative.
Her adoptive family finally found a use for her. To secure a massive corporate merger, they decided to marry her off to Elwyn Lyons, a billionaire heir rumored to be a violent, dying psychopath.
They did this just to spare their precious Bristol from the exact same arrangement.
When Elodie hesitated, her adoptive father showed his true colors. He threatened to cut off the life-saving medical care for Gus, the poor man who had actually raised her.
Her older brother even laughed about it with his friends in the dark.
"If Lyons dies, she gets nothing. If he beats her, well... she's tough to break. Either way, she's a pawn."
Hearing her brother casually discuss her potential death as a business strategy was the final blow. They didn't see her as a daughter, just a disposable shield.
All those years of staying quiet to keep the peace turned to ash. She realized the people she called family were monsters who would eagerly trade her life for a few patents.
Elodie threw an ironclad legal separation agreement on their coffee table and walked out forever.
To secure Gus's medical funds, she accepted an eight-figure commission from a mysterious client. Her mission was to play a toxic lover and publicly destroy the Lyons engagement.
Little did the Evans family know, the "sickly" heir was actually in peak physical condition, and he had just hired Elodie to ruin them all.
8.7
I handed my terminal brain cancer diagnosis to my billionaire husband, hoping for a shred of comfort.
Instead, he sneered, accused me of faking it for a better divorce settlement, and told me to die quickly.
Heartbroken, I turned to my sister, a top surgeon, who promised to save my life.
But on the operating table, my soul was ripped from my body as I watched her inject me with a lethal drug.
She didn't just murder me. She harvested my organs, forged my medical records to claim I was a hysterical liar who ran away, and went straight to my penthouse to take my place.
She looked at my blank organ donation consent form and smiled.
"Don't worry, he'll sign."
And he did. My husband welcomed her into our bed and announced their grand wedding, while my own mother celebrated my disappearance as a chance to secure his wealth.
I hovered in the air, screaming silently.
Why did my own flesh and blood slaughter me to steal my life? Why did the man I loved hate me so much that he'd happily marry my killer?
As my husband stood by the window, daring my runaway self to show up at their wedding, my spectral heart turned to stone.
I decided not to fade away. I would stay right here as a ghost, and watch their monstrous charade burn to the ground.