Sheltered By The Coldhearted Billionaire Boss
Overnight, Ella lost her family, her home, and her entire life. Discarded by the foster system, she was left shivering in the freezing mud outside her ruined estate.
That was when Javier Shepherd appeared. The terrifyingly cold, powerful billionaire pulled her from the dirt, threw her into a massive glass penthouse, handed her an unlimited black card, and vanished overseas, leaving her in the hands of a cruel caretaker.
The caretaker treated Ella like garbage, feeding her cheap, processed meals while using the black card to buy designer bags. The toxic food triggered a severe allergic reaction. Ella collapsed in the dark hallway, her throat swelling shut, gasping for air while the caretaker locked the door and turned up the TV. She almost died on that cold hardwood floor.
When Javier found out, he ruthlessly destroyed the caretaker and sent her to prison. He guarded Ella's hospital bed with terrifying intensity and even moved into her apartment to stop her panic attacks. Yet, when Ella finally broke down crying over her dead parents, his eyes turned to ice.
"Losing emotional control over a juvenile past is an inefficient waste of energy."
He sneered, treating her grief like a bad financial investment. Ella was completely bewildered. Why did this dangerous man protect her so fiercely, yet hate her past so deeply?
It wasn't until his cousin visited the hospital that the cruel truth was revealed. Javier wasn't saving her out of kindness. He had been obsessed with Ella's mother—his family's adopted daughter who ran away years ago. To him, Ella wasn't a person to be loved. She was just a replacement asset, a ghost of the woman he never got over.
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Chapter 5
The elevator doors on the VIP floor of the private hospital slammed open. Javier stepped out, his dark suit radiating a freezing, lethal energy.
Cale walked a half-step behind him. His face was grim. He held a thick stack of freshly printed medical reports in his hand.
Javier's leather shoes hit the polished marble floor with heavy, aggressive thuds. The sound echoed down the empty corridor like a countdown.
Brenda sat on a plastic chair outside the room. When she heard the footsteps, she jumped to her feet, her entire body trembling.
Javier stopped directly in front of her. He didn't say a single word. He snatched the stack of papers from Cale's hand and slammed them hard against Brenda's chest.
The papers exploded out of the folder, fluttering to the floor like snow.
"What did you do?" Javier asked. His voice was a low, terrifying whisper that promised absolute destruction.
Brenda stuttered, taking a step back. "She-she's a picky eater! It was just a sudden allergy, I swear I didn't-"
Javier let out a short, dark laugh. He rattled off the exact dates and amounts of three designer handbags Brenda had purchased using the black card.
Brenda's knees gave out. She collapsed onto the floor, tears streaming down her face as she began to beg loudly.
Javier didn't look down at her. "Call the lawyers," he ordered Cale. "Make sure she rots in a cell."
Cale grabbed the collar of Brenda's uniform. He dragged her down the hallway, her shoes scraping against the marble until her crying faded away.
Javier stood alone outside the door. He took a deep breath, forcing the violent rage out of his muscles. He pushed the door open.
The room was dim. The only sound was the steady, rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor.
Javier walked to the edge of the bed. He looked down at Ella. A clear oxygen mask covered her face. She looked incredibly small, her skin a translucent, sickly pale. An IV needle was taped to the back of her bruised hand.
The muscle in Javier's jaw locked. His hands dropped to his sides, his fingers curling into tight fists until his knuckles turned white.
Ella's eyelashes fluttered. She slowly opened her eyes.
She saw the tall, dark figure standing over her. Her pupils dilated, and tears instantly flooded her eyes.
She reached up with her free hand. She grabbed the edge of the oxygen mask and yanked it down. The sudden movement pulled the IV line tight, causing a streak of dark blood to back up into the clear tube.
Javier leaned over instantly. His large hand clamped down on her shoulder, pinning her flat against the mattress with undeniable force.
"Do not move," Javier ordered. His voice was harsh, but a faint tremor hid beneath the command.
Ella didn't fight him. Instead, her fingers shot out and grabbed the bottom edge of his suit jacket. She gripped the wool fabric so hard her joints ached.
She tilted her head back, looking up at him. Tears spilled over her bottom lashes, running down her pale cheeks and soaking into the pillow.
"Please," she rasped, her voice weak and broken. "Don't give me to anyone else."
She twisted the fabric in her fist. It was the only thing anchoring her to the earth.
"Let me live with you," she begged. "I'll sleep in the basement. Just don't leave me with strangers."
Javier stared down at her white-knuckled grip on his coat. His throat worked as he swallowed hard, a sudden, inexplicable tightness seizing his chest as if the oxygen had been completely sucked out of the room. He forced his face to freeze into a mask of total indifference. He reached down and grabbed her wrist.
One by one, he pried her cold, stiff fingers off his jacket.
He stood up straight, putting three feet of physical distance between them. He looked down at her with eyes as cold as ice.
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7.2
In the roaring flames of the abandoned warehouse, my skin blistered and peeled.
Through the crackling fire, my sister Elara's malicious voice echoed. She told me my husband, Damien, was dead, and it was all my fault.
For years, I had treated Damien like a monster. I fought him, threw tantrums, and desperately tried to escape our marriage, all because I blindly followed Elara's advice.
"Remember, the harder you fight, the more disgusted he'll get."
She texted me things like that, telling me to smash vases over his head and run away, claiming she was protecting me.
In reality, she was poisoning my mind, stealing my valedictorian spot at university, and plotting to crawl into my billionaire husband's bed.
My foolish rebellion cost me everything, ultimately leading to Damien's tragic death and my own fiery end.
As the massive explosion tore my consciousness to shreds, I finally understood who truly loved me and who the real monster was.
I died suffocating on my own agonizing regret, wishing I could tear Elara apart.
Then, a rush of freezing air punched into my lungs.
I opened my eyes to the crisp scent of cedar and mint. I was back seven years ago, on the very night our marriage was supposed to go to hell.
This time, looking at Damien's flawless, unscarred face, I didn't push him away.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and made a silent vow: I would make every single person who ever hurt him bleed.
7.4
I single-handedly saved my family's corporate empire from a hostile takeover, securing our market share for the next decade.
But my grandfather didn't see me as a hero. He saw me as a flawed piece of inventory.
To calm the board and fix the reputation I supposedly ruined, he forced me into an arranged marriage, auctioning me off to the highest bidder.
Desperate, I turned to my childhood friend, Egnacio, the only person who ever promised to protect me.
But instead of saving me, he publicly humiliated me. He used my desperation as a networking opportunity, pitching my arranged marriage as a business deal to a ruthless private equity king named Dexter Mathews.
Later that night, I caught Egnacio holding my cruel cousin in his arms.
"What man wants to be with a woman who looks at you like she's planning a hostile takeover?"
Hearing him mock my pain shattered the last bit of hope I had.
I realized I was never family to them. I was just a sharp knife, used to cut down their enemies and then traded for cash before I got dull.
The heartbreak vanished, replaced by a cold, violent rage.
I didn't break, and I didn't run.
Instead, I got into the back of Dexter Mathews's car. He had watched my family tear me apart, but he didn't see a broken pawn. He saw a queen.
And together, we were going to burn their entire empire to the ground.
9.3
Marissa was the perfect wife. She traded her high powered corporate ladder for home cooked meals and a designer sanctuary, all to support her husband, Ethan.
But when Ethan confesses to a four month affair not out of guilt, but because his mistress is extorting him for $300 million...Marissa's world turns to ash.Ethan's solution is as twisted as his heart.
"Cheat back. Get even. Stay married."Driven by a cocktail of rage and Revenge, Marissa decides to take him up on his offer. She heads into the night looking for a single moment of rebellion to wash away the scent of Ethan's lies.
She finds it in the arms of a cold, devastatingly masked handsome stranger who makes her forget everything.Broken and fueled by the betrayal, Marissa decides to take the ultimate risk. She slips into an exclusive, members only masquerade club...a place where names don't exist and only desires matter.
Behind a lace mask, she meets him....a man who smells of expensive bourbon and cold command.He is the first person in years to see the fire in her, not just the wife she became.They share a night of scorched....earth passion that leaves Marissa breathless and "even." She leaves before the sun rises, intending for the stranger to remain a ghost of her revenge.
But some ghosts have a name.When the masks come off and the corporate world demands her return, Marissa comes face to face with the man from the club. He isn't just anyone. He is Xavier Sterling....the ruthless billionaire CEO she once worked for, and the man Ethan calls his "best friend."Xavier knows her scent. He knows her touch. And most dangerously, he knows exactly what Ethan did to her.
Now, Marissa has to navigate a world where her husband wants her to stay, the mistress wants her dead, and the CEO wants to own the one woman he was never supposed to touch.
Now, Marissa is caught in a lethal triangle. Xavier wants to own her, Ethan wants to keep her to save his reputation, and the $300 million debt is threatening to drown them all. In a world of billionaire power plays, Marissa is about to learn that revenge is a dish best served... in the CEO's bed.
7.5
Five years of a fake marriage to a billionaire.
Christi thought she was a wealthy wife-until City Hall told her the truth.
No marriage license. No legal rights. Nothing but a lie.
Her husband cheated on her for four years.
His entire family mocked her, used her, and planned to trap her with a baby.
She was ready to ruin them all.
Then a secret changed everything:
Her late parents were DARPA elites. She is the sole heir to $50 billion.
There's only one catch-marry Cornelius Gregory, Wall Street's ruthless paralyzed tycoon.
She signs the contract in an instant.
Freeze their accounts. Destroy the Rivera family.
The game is over for them.
And the queen has just arrived.
9.3
For years, Gabriela believed the man beside her would be the one she grew old with. They had loved each other since they were young, but in the end, all those years meant nothing beside a younger woman's smile.
Returning from a business trip, she uncovered his betrayal with brutal clarity. Still, she did not cry or beg. She took out her phone, recorded every damning second, and filed for divorce the moment she could.
Afterward, she rebuilt her life into something brighter, richer, and stronger, even marrying a powerful tycoon. As for her ex and his shameless mistress, they could rot together.
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.