Sold To The Devil: Escaping My Ruthless Husband
I was standing in the center of the gallery, holding a glass of expensive champagne, when the screens behind me flickered and my life ended.
It was supposed to be an art unveiling, but the monitors shifted to fake footage of me handing evidence to the FBI.
My fiancé, Ethan, looked at me like I was a sick dog that needed to be put down.
My father slapped me across the face in front of everyone, disowning me to save his own skin.
That was when Luca Vitti, the city’s most dangerous man, stepped in.
He cleared the room and took my hand.
I thought he was saving me.
I didn't realize he was just collecting a new pet.
I was locked in his estate, isolated and terrified.
Then, my healthy mother suddenly "died" of pneumonia in a Vitti clinic.
Days later, I saw Luca’s frail stepsister, Clara, breathing easily for the first time in her life.
She had my mother’s lungs.
I became nothing more than a breeding vessel.
When I fell pregnant, I overheard Luca and Ethan planning my death.
"Once the kid is cut out, she's a loose end," Luca had said.
They were going to kill me and give my son to the woman who stole my mother's breath.
I couldn't let that happen.
So, I staged a tragedy.
I induced labor in secret, hid my living son, and placed a fake corpse in the crib with a note: The Vitti Legacy.
I escaped while they mourned.
Five years later, Luca finally found the doctor’s confession.
He learned that Clara had orchestrated everything.
He opened the velvet box I left behind and realized it was empty.
Now, he knows I didn't kill his son.
I saved him from becoming a monster like his father.
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Chapter 6
Alessia POV
The water in the shower had long since turned cold, but I didn't reach to turn it off.
I needed the noise. I needed the deafening roar of the water to drown out the sound of my own heart breaking.
I looked down at the pills trembling in my hand. They were potent—high-grade muscle relaxants and labor inducers I had swiped from the clinic weeks ago. Just in case. Just in case I needed an exit.
I never thought the exit would be for him.
My hand shook violently as I brought the cup to my lips. I swallowed them dry. One by one. Gritty and bitter against my tongue.
I sat on the tiled floor of the shower, the freezing water beating down on my swollen belly. I apologized to him. I whispered his name, Leo, over and over again until the syllables lost their meaning and dissolved into a rhythm of grief.
I couldn't let them have him. I couldn't let Clara cut him out of me and claim him as her own. I couldn't let Luca raise him to be a butcher.
It was better this way. It was a mercy. Better for him to never breathe the same poisoned air as the Vittis.
The pain started an hour later. It wasn't just a cramp; it was a searing, twisting knife grinding into my lower back. I bit down hard on a folded towel to keep from screaming, my jaw aching from the pressure.
I clawed at the grout between the tiles until my fingernails cracked and bled.
It went on for hours. The blood mixed with the water, swirling down the drain in diluted pink ribbons.
When it was over, I didn't look at him. I couldn't. If I looked at his face, if I saw Luca's nose or my father's chin, I wouldn't be able to do what came next.
With trembling hands, I wrapped him in the silk pillowcase I had brought into the bathroom. It was soft. It was the only soft thing he would ever know.
I placed him inside the airtight container I had prepared. I didn't cry. I had wept all my tears before I took the pills. Now, I was just a machine. A vessel that had been emptied and scraped hollow.
I hid the container in the back of the ventilation shaft behind the vanity, a place I knew no one ever checked.
Then came the hardest part.
I cleaned the floor. I scrubbed every inch of grout with bleach until my hands were raw and burning. I showered again, washing the scent of birth and death off my skin, scrubbing until I was red.
Moving like a ghost, I took the foam padding from the decorative pillows on the chaise lounge. I shaped it. I taped it to my stomach.
The adhesive pulled at my skin, a sharp sting against the dull agony inside me, but I ignored it.
I put my nightgown back on.
I looked in the mirror. I still looked pregnant. I still looked like the vessel they wanted.
But I was a tomb.
I unlocked the door and walked back into the bedroom. Luca was asleep. He didn't move. He didn't know that his legacy was already gone.
I climbed into bed beside him, my body screaming in protest. I lay there, staring at the dark ceiling, feeling the phantom weight of the child I had just sent back to the stars.
You wanted a Vitti, Luca.
I closed my eyes.
I will give you one.
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8.0
My father gave me an ultimatum: marry a man I despise or lose my entire inheritance. I chose to run, boarding a private jet with no intention of looking back.
But his reach is absolute. The phone buzzed before we even left New York airspace.
"Send me a picture with Sterling now," his voice barked, "or I'm calling your pilot to turn that jet around."
I faked the photo and fled to Las Vegas, my last resort. My mission was simple: find my father's illegitimate son, the one secret that could break his hold over me.
My only lead was a grainy picture of a ruthless fixer, a man who cleaned up my father's messes. I found him in a desolate diner, a giant of a man surrounded by a wall of guards.
I gambled everything on a single coin toss for the information I needed. He saw right through my desperate bluff.
He leaned in close, his voice a low, gravelly rasp.
"In my city, the house always wins."
I was left standing there, humiliated and defeated. But as he turned to leave, he glanced over his shoulder.
"But you're lucky. Today, I'm just curious what Howard Bright's daughter is doing so far from home."
He had seen me not as a threat, but as a curiosity. I had lost the battle, but I wasn't done yet. I was no longer running. I was hunting.
7.5
"Let's play a game."
"What game?"
"One that involves you not screaming."
★★★★★
I'd been the perfect girlfriend to my star hockey player for two years.
Stood in the rain at his practices. Drove hours just to watch him warm benches. Wore his jersey like it meant something.
And he repaid me by fucking his way through half of Chicago-including the sister of the one man he's been obsessed with for years.
Zane Mercer.
The NHL's most dangerous player. My stepfather's worst enemy. And the man who looked at me like I was something worth destroying the world for.
One impossible offer.
One desperate bet.
One night that changed everything.
Zane doesn't do fake. He doesn't do half measures.
When he tells me I'm his for two months, he means it. In every way that matters.
But Zane has secrets buried so deep they connect to my family's past in ways I never imagined. Dark secrets. Deadly ones.
What starts as a transaction turns into obsession.
What starts as revenge turns into something I can't walk away from.
And what starts as a lie might be the only truth that matters.
They say some men are too dangerous to love.
They're right.
But I was never good at following warnings.
★★★★★
This book contains explicit sexual content, dominant/possessive behavior, morally gray characters, family conflict, and themes that may be triggering. Intended for mature readers 18+.
This isn't your normal hockey romance. It's dark, raw, and unrelenting-where obsession, desire, and power collide, and nothing is off-limits.
7.6
When the kidnapper pressed a tactical knife to Falon's throat and demanded a one-million-dollar ransom, she was certain her fiancé would pay.
Instead, Jerod's annoyed voice echoed through the speaker. He was busy cutting a cake with his fragile, manipulative mistress, Abby.
"Do whatever you want with her," Jerod told the thug. "I am done."
The call disconnected. Left to die, Falon was injected with a lethal black-market aphrodisiac. She fought her way out, escaping into the freezing rain, and threw herself at the mercy of a stranger in a black Maybach. That stranger was Bell Farrell, a ruthless billionaire and Jerod's biggest corporate rival. To survive the burning drug and shatter the memories of her fiancé's betrayal, she gave herself to the devil that night.
The next morning, Falon woke up in a stranger's bed, staring at her bruised skin. For four years, she had endured her abusive family's cruelty, watching them treat her fake, adopted sister like a princess while using Falon as a corporate pawn. She had compromised everything for Jerod, only to be thrown away like garbage.
Why did she have to suffer while the people who destroyed her played the victims?
Falon took off her five-carat engagement ring and threw it in the trash.
She put on a sharp black suit and crashed her family's elite ballroom gala, ready to burn their high-society facade to the ground.
9.1
I drowned in freezing pool water, the mocking laughter of the elite Savage family echoing in my ears.
When I opened my eyes, I was an eight-year-old orphan again, right on the day those monsters came to adopt me.
Terrified of repeating my hellish past, I ran down the hallway and desperately grabbed the shirt of a random, dumpy IT guy, begging him to take me instead.
I thought I had chosen a weak, boring suburban dad to hide behind.
But I was completely wrong.
My new mom greeted me with a ceramic tactical knife hidden in her apron.
My clumsy dad sliced dinner ribs with the terrifying precision of a seasoned hitman.
My ten-year-old brother was a dead-eyed sociopath who immediately calculated my bone density.
They were a family of lethal underworld monsters, yet they frantically pretended to be a normal, pathetic household just for me.
7.2
Aldan Anabelle was destined to be a luna, beautiful, talented and heir of the great Kam kingdom. Everything was perfect, until one faithful night, her parents died in a fatal accident. Planned by an unknown clan, set up by her uncle Raven. After the death of her parents, life turned into a nightmare, uncle molested and maltreated her.
To protect her father's legacy, she's sent to leave with her fated mate for 5yrs, the only way to get her legacy was if she could break his stone heart. Alpha Roman, a cold-hearted heir of Fangspire pack, vowed never to love because of his stepmother's maltreatment. Within 5 years, he fell in love with her.... after a long time of tormenting her. Their worlds merge, their hearts ignite and their bond becomes unbreakable.
Not until she was kidnapped, did everything go sour. Her fashion show trips became a trap for taking her blood. To prevent the prophecy from coming through, her uncle planned her death. But unknown to them, nobody was found. Anabelle never died that day. She rises from the ashes under a new name. A powerful businesswoman whose internal desire was filled with revenge.
When fate pushes them together again, they stand on opposite sides of destiny.
Driven by misunderstanding and anger toward each other.
Love. Betrayal. Revenge
A Luna who returns from ashes to regain her throne, legacy.
And a mate, who would destroy the kingdom to earn her forgiveness.
"Would she be able to defeat her uncle plots?" and win the heart of the cold hearted Alpha.
7.3
I was summoned home from boarding school for a funeral, thinking my family finally wanted me back. I stood in the pouring rain, watching a mahogany casket disappear into the mud, while the silence in my head felt like it was drowning me.
That night, I hid behind a tapestry and listened through a vent to my father’s study. He wasn't talking about grief. He was talking about "tissue compatibility" and "near-perfect matches" with the family lawyer.
They didn't want a daughter; they wanted a donor. My father’s voice was devoid of emotion as he discussed "the harvest." My half-sister was dying, and I was the spare part they had been growing for years. They had even removed the lock from my bedroom door so I could never truly shut them out.
The realization shattered me. I was just a biological backup plan, a life deemed less valuable than the one they preferred. How could a father look at his own child and see nothing but a heart to be cut out and transplanted?
I didn't wait for them to come for me. I stuffed a backpack, flushed my SIM card, and climbed out the window into a thunderstorm. I caught a bus to the middle of nowhere, ending up in a seat next to a massive, predatory man named Hoyt who looked like he’d killed people for less than a seat preference.
He pinned my wrist with a grip like iron and growled, "Who sent you?"
I couldn't speak to defend myself, but as we rolled into a dying town called Blackwood Creek, I knew one thing for certain. I would rather take my chances with a stranger with a gun than stay another night with the family that wanted me dead.