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 5
Constance stared at the back of her hand, a red mark blooming where Aisling had smacked it. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish.
"You savage!" Constance shrieked. "You have no class!"
Aisling crossed her arms over her chest and smirked. "Better a savage than a parasite who confuses cruelty with class."
Brendon finally snapped out of his shock. He puffed up his chest, trying to reclaim his territory. He pointed at the door. "Get out of my house, Aisling. Now."
Aisling didn't even turn her head to look at him. "Shut up, you pathetic mama's boy. You can't even protect your own wife."
The insult hit Brendon's fragile ego like a bullet. His face turned a dark, ugly red. He lunged forward, reaching out to grab Aisling by the shoulder and physically throw her out.
Christen moved faster. She stepped in front of Aisling, her body acting as a shield. She glared at Brendon, her eyes burning with a violent intensity he had never seen before.
"Touch her," Christen hissed, her voice vibrating with rage, "and see what happens."
Brendon froze. His hand hovered in the air. He actually took a step back, intimidated by the raw hatred radiating from his wife.
Constance saw her son retreat and lost her mind. "You ungrateful bitch!" she screamed at Christen. "You bring outsiders in to attack your own husband? You are a disgrace to this family!"
Christen looked at the mother and son. The pristine suits, the expensive watches, the absolute rot underneath it all. The last three years of her life flashed before her eyes-a pathetic, desperate attempt to belong to a family that was nothing but a beautiful corpse.
She took a deep breath. The suffocating weight she had carried for three years lifted off her chest. She stood up perfectly straight.
"The Jimenez family is a joke," Christen said. Her voice was terrifyingly calm. "You are an empty shell built on lies and dirty secrets."
Constance gasped, clutching her chest as if she had been stabbed. "Get out! Get out of my son's house!"
"I'm leaving," Christen said. She looked directly at Brendon. The silence in the hallway was absolute.
"And I want a divorce."
The words dropped like a bomb.
Brendon's pupils dilated. His jaw went slack. "What?"
Constance stared for a second, then burst into a sharp, hysterical laugh. "A divorce? Is this your little game to get a payout? Read your prenup, you stupid girl. You won't get a single dime from us."
"Your money is filthy," Christen said, her voice steady. "I wouldn't take a cent if you begged me. I'm leaving with nothing."
Panic finally pierced through Brendon's arrogance. He realized she meant it. His perfect image, his controlled life, was shattering.
"No!" Brendon roared, his voice cracking. "I do not agree to a divorce! You are not leaving!"
Christen ignored him. She bent down and picked up her canvas bag. She turned toward the door.
Constance saw Christen dismissing them, turning her back on their authority. Her mind snapped.
She lunged forward with terrifying speed. She raised her arm high and swung with every ounce of strength in her body.
Aisling was blocked by Brendon's broad shoulders and couldn't reach them in time. Christen, weighed down by the heavy bag, couldn't duck fast enough. She only managed to turn her head slightly.
Smack.
The sound of flesh hitting flesh echoed sharply in the hallway.
Constance's palm connected brutally with the left side of Christen's face. The sheer force of the blow snapped Christen's head to the side.
A stinging, burning pain exploded across her cheek. Her ear rang with a high-pitched whine. She tasted the warm, metallic tang of blood pooling inside her cheek where her teeth had cut the flesh.
The hallway went dead silent.
Brendon stared at his mother in horror, but his feet remained glued to the floor. He didn't move to help his wife.
Aisling let out a guttural scream of pure rage. She shoved Brendon out of the way with both hands, charging forward like a lioness.
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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.