She Outshines All the Starlight
Under the starry sky, Jerry’s rough hands tore away the last scrap of lace from Barbara’s body.
She gasped—or tried to—but he sealed her lips with his own. Their breaths tangled, feverish, swallowing her half-hearted protest into broken, panting sighs.
Then a ringtone cut the night. Jerry’s brow furrowed. Annoyed, he fumbled for his phone, glanced at the screen, and released his grip on her slender waist.
He answered in French. “She’s here.”
Barbara’s skin, still flushed from his touch, met the cool night air. Before she could even form a complaint, the words that followed hit harder than any slap.
In the darkness, Jason’s voice carried clearly through the line. He replied in French, but Barbara’s mind translated every syllable into a cold, brutal truth.
“So she’s there. Don’t tell me you’re getting addicted to these little affairs, Jerry. Or have you forgotten you have a real fiancée?”
Under that vast, indifferent sky, Barbara felt herself plunge into an icy abyss.
Seven years. Seven years with Jerry.
Once, she had been the most promising painter at the Southborough Academy of Fine Arts. But on the eve of her first solo exhibition, her father’s company went bankrupt, drowning them in debt.
That was when Jerry appeared—her childhood friend turned savior. He cleared all her debts, brought her into his world, and cared for her with what she’d believed was devotion.
She thought he truly loved her. She believed he’d braved the gossip and opposition just for her.
Jason’s voice continued, dripping with casual cruelty.
“You and Claire are engaged anyway.” Amusement tinged his tone. “So what about Barbara? What are your plans for her?”
“Her?” Jerry let out a derisive snort, laced with contempt. “You think she’s some chaste saint? If she hadn’t crawled into my bed back then, using every trick in the book to seduce me, do you think I’d have spared her a second glance? Give her enough benefits, and she’ll behave. Besides, who else does she have to turn to now? Her bankrupt father? Or that mother of hers who does nothing but cry? Everything she has, I gave her. What right does she have to bargain with me?”
Barbara bit her lip until she tasted copper, forcing herself to stay silent.
So that was what she was in his eyes. A plaything. Disposable.
Jerry’s gaze, still dark with lingering desire, swept over her. His voice took on a taunting, vulgar edge.
“You have no idea. The way she moans… fucking obscene. Drives me wild. That milky-white skin, so soft to the touch… And the way her hips move, like a damn snake. Sets me on fire every time. Those legs… long, pale, wrapping around you until you forget your own name. And the sounds she makes… could melt a man’s bones. Much cleaner than the girls you find out there.”
Jason coughed, an awkward sound.
“Who are you trying to fool?” Jerry’s laugh was crude. He licked his lips, as if savoring the memory. “All the things I wouldn’t dare try with Claire… I’ve tried them all on her. Every position, every toy. The feeling… fucking incredible. Tell you what. After I’m married, I’ll pass her to you for a while. Consider it a gift from your brother. I’m not tired of her yet, but you can have a taste.”
“That’s… not really appropriate…” Jason’s protest was weak, his voice tinged with unmistakable excitement.
“What’s inappropriate about it? Just thinking about it gets me going! We could even… explore some new possibilities together. Wouldn’t that be fun?”
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Chapter 3
Today was Jerry and Claire’s engagement banquet. All of Southborough’s elite had gathered for the occasion, while she was forced to hide like a shameful secret in this gilded cage.
Jerry’s expression stiffened for a moment before his smile returned. “Jealous?”
Barbara ignored him, turning back to the files spread across the desk.
He wasn’t about to let it go. Grabbing her shoulders, he forced her to face him, his tone turning sharp. “Barbara, what’s your problem?”
“Do you have any idea how hard it was to slip away from that banquet?” Closing the distance between them, his eyes darkened dangerously. “I came here with a gift just to make it up to you—and this is the thanks I get?”
Barbara almost laughed in his face.
Did he really think stealing a few minutes from his own engagement party was some grand act of charity?
“Envious?” His voice dropped to a murmur against her ear, thick with desire. “Be good for me tonight, and maybe I’ll get you a ring too.”
“Be a good girl. I promise, yours will be even bigger…”
His hands began to wander.
“Jerry, what do you even think I am?”
He caught her hand, pulling her roughly against his chest with a low laugh. “What do you think you are? Sweetheart, don’t be difficult. Do we really need to spell it out?”
His voice was a husky, seductive whisper—yet it sent a chill straight down her spine.
“You’re engaged, Jerry. Why are you doing this?”
Trembling, she shoved against his chest with all her strength, but his arms were like iron bands around her.
After a desperate struggle, she finally broke free.
She fled to the bathroom, snatched a wet wipe, and began scrubbing her skin where he’d touched her. Over and over, as if she could scour away the memory itself.
She felt filthy.
Jerry stumbled back from her shove, nearly losing his balance.
Watching her frantic scrubbing, his face darkened.
“Barbara, stop this,” he said, his voice low and rough with anger. “You know how I feel about you.”
“Stop this?” A bitter laugh escaped her. “Jerry, when have I ever *not* been ‘making a scene’ in your eyes?”
“I ducked out on my own party. I left my fiancée, my family, all our guests. Do you have any idea the pressure I’m under? I just wanted to see you. I just… missed you.”
“Missed me?” The words tasted like ash. If she hadn’t overheard his conversation with his friends a few days ago, she might have almost believed him.
At her scornful tone, the smile finally faded from Jerry’s lips, replaced by a chilling calm.
“Barbara, enough.”
“Just stay. Be good, and I’ll give you everything you want. Everything except my name. You know how this works. Claire is just a business arrangement. Once this all settles down, we can go back to how things were…”
“Go back?” Barbara laughed, the sound hollow. “To being your caged songbird?”
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7.1
I woke up gasping for air, expecting the cold concrete of a prison cell, but my fingers sank into the plush leather of a luxury Lincoln. I was twenty-four again, wearing the silver silk dress from the night my life was systematically destroyed.
Beside me sat my cousin Catrina, the woman whose carefully crafted lies had orchestrated my ruin and sent me to a penitentiary for five years.
In my first life, this was the night the dominoes fell. Catrina stole my jewelry to paint me as mentally unstable, and by morning, I was stripped of my medical license and labeled a criminal. My mother’s family, the Montgomerys, stood by and watched as my father’s company was devoured by wolves, treating my existence like a "liability" that needed to be managed. I still felt the phantom tremors in my hands from prison fights and the stinging betrayal of being discarded by the people I called family.
I had lived through five years of absolute hell, a former surgeon rotting in a cell while the people who framed me toasted to their success at galas I was no longer invited to.
"Don't be selfish, Dawn," Catrina whispered, reaching for the necklace that would later be used as evidence against me. "Let the jewelry shine on someone who actually matters."
She thought I was still the fragile victim she could manipulate, but she didn't realize I had returned from the grave with the cold, clinical calculation of a fixer.
Instead of walking into her trap at the gala, I forced the car onto a dark service road and dragged a dying billionaire, Jennings Stafford, from the wreckage of a burning SUV.
He was the only man powerful enough to destroy my enemies, and as I stitched his wounds with stolen supplies, I didn't ask for a thank you.
I looked him dead in the eye and proposed a contract that would set the world on fire.
"I want a strategic marriage. You get a harmless wife with a legacy name to calm your board, and I get immunity from everyone who ever touched me."
The bill for my five years in prison had finally come due, and I was here to collect.
7.2
Elmore Thomas rushed into the emergency room, clutching his feverish seven-year-old son, Buddy, tightly to his chest.
When the privacy curtain was pulled back, the air in Elmore's lungs vanished. The attending physician standing under the harsh lights was his wife, Kendal—the woman everyone believed had burned to death eight years ago.
But there was no tearful reunion. Kendal looked at him, and her eyes froze into impenetrable ice. She treated him like a biohazard, strictly referring to him as the family member.
Worse, she didn't recognize Buddy. She comforted their crying son with the same gentle warmth she used to reserve for Elmore, completely unaware she was soothing the baby she thought had died.
Days later, Elmore watched from the shadows as she picked up another boy outside a prep school, her left hand flashing a massive diamond engagement ring.
When his butler accidentally recognized her, Kendal shielded her new stepson with pure disgust in her eyes.
"Tell that psychopath to sign the divorce papers immediately. I have a new family now."
The words 'new family' echoed in Elmore's skull, tearing him apart. For eight years, he had lived in a hell of guilt and madness, raising their son in the shadow of her ghost. How could she just erase their past? How could she give her tender smiles to a stranger and look at him with absolute revulsion?
Standing in a luxury ballroom, Elmore squeezed his hand until his crystal champagne flute shattered, thick blood dripping onto the rug. The murderous obsession in his dark eyes returned as he called his lawyer.
"Freeze her divorce application. Use every dirty trick in the book. She isn't leaving."
8.4
Katelyn Miller's romantic getaway turns into a nightmare when she catches her boyfriend, Mark, in the arms of another woman aboard the Love Boat cruise. Heartbroken and humiliated, she drowns her sorrows in alcohol—only to wake up in a stranger's bed after a passionate, mistaken encounter in cabin 1412.
Two weeks later, Katelyn discovers she's pregnant. With Mark coldly cutting ties and her life in shambles, she tracks down the father: Alexander Sterling III, a wealthy, enigmatic lawyer who views their unexpected connection as a problem to be managed. But when he offers her a shocking proposal—a temporary marriage to secure his family's legacy—Katelyn must decide whether to accept his calculated arrangement or face single motherhood alone.
As they navigate their forced proximity, secrets emerge: Alexander's lingering ties to another woman, Katelyn's growing doubts about his motives, and the undeniable chemistry that blurs the lines of their contract. But when betrayal strikes again, Katelyn must confront the painful truth—some mistakes can't be undone, and not all fairy tales have happy endings.
9.3
My Sexy Boss
9.3
Cherry Mae Banaag, an exceptional and hardworking woman, had one main goal: to provide a better life for her father, who was battling a heart condition. Faced with life's challenges and the lack of financial resources for her father's surgery, Cherry found herself with no option but to accept an offer from Rexon Del'Torre, the renowned lead vocalist of Logistic Band, whom she had recently met at the Resto-Bar where she worked. Initially agreeing to be his personal assistant, Cherry soon found herself in a situation where Rexon requested something more. How could she resist his charisma, his captivating scent, and his provocative touch? How could she turn down Rexon Del'Torre when he seemed to be the only one capable of fulfilling her desires and claiming her body and soul?
9.3
He bought me to bear his child. I never meant to fall for the monster who owned me.
Sold to the ruthless mafia boss Dante Moretti, I became a prisoner in his world of blood and power.
He was cold, commanding, and dangerously irresistible. Every touch felt like fire, every kiss a sin I couldn't stop committing.
But his brother offered me comfort. A way out. A reason to hope.
Until his betrayal tore everything apart and left me craving the very man I was meant to fear.
Now I'm trapped between two brothers bound by secrets, lies, and desire.
And when a forbidden pregnancy threatens to destroy us all, I have to decide, is love worth losing my freedom, or will it be the weapon that finally breaks me?
9.5
After being locked in a mental institution for two years, Arlie was finally brought back to the Mccormick estate.
But her billionaire husband, Killian, didn't bring her home out of guilt or love. He handed her a cold surrogacy contract.
Her biological son, Julian, now looked at her with terror, calling her a monster while clinging to Kaelynn—the very mistress who had framed Arlie and stolen her life.
Killian froze Arlie's assets, locked her in a high-rise penthouse, and threatened to send her back to the asylum forever if she refused to undergo IVF.
He claimed they desperately needed a new baby's umbilical cord blood to cure Julian's terminal illness.
But Arlie secretly contacted her doctor and uncovered a horrifying truth.
The experimental gene therapy she had received years ago meant any attempt at pregnancy would trigger a fatal organ shutdown.
Killian didn't care if the procedure killed her in agony; he just wanted to use her as a disposable breeding machine to harvest a "spare part."
Watching the media brand her a selfish mother who wanted her son to die, the last trace of the obedient wife vanished.
Arlie pulled out a hidden satellite phone and dialed a number she hadn't used in years.
"Ronan, it's Li," she said coldly. "Wipe my name from their servers and prepare a full-scale assault. It's time to destroy them."