SUBMISSIVE TO MY BROTHER'S BESTFRIEND
I'm Karima Heart, and I basically live a double life. In school, I'm the quiet, nerdy bookworm. At night, I'm the seductive, high-demand stripper every one screams for.
But everything's about to change. My perfect secret is on the verge of exposure because my brother's best friend just caught me. Now, to keep him quiet, I have to play his little obedient girl... and with him living under our roof, it's getting harder to resist the pull between us...
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Chapter 8
OWAIN LUTHER
I didn't plan for Malcom to show up early, but it wasn't exactly shocking either. The guy had a sixth sense for walking in at the worst possible moment... And we weren't even doing anything illegal, just her in my arms, that's all, but...
When his eyes locked on us-Karima in my arms, her lips parted like she'd just caught herself wanting something she shouldn't. For a second, he froze. Then his brain finally registered the scene.
Before I could blink, he was moving. I could swear he wanted to murder me, with that fury in his eyes... Karima broke out of my hold as if he hadn't seen everything-stepping between us just as he closed the distance.
"We... Owain was just comforting me. That's all. It's been a rough day," she rushed out.
I didn't say a word. There was really no point. The lie was weak, but she tried. Which meant something. She wasn't really the hard girl she pretended to be.
Exactly why she needed someone like me to bring out that wild in her and maybe with a little bit of learning and Devil's spice, she'd catch up quick.
Malcom's eyes narrowed. "Are you serious? That's supposed to mean anything to me?"
Karima's tough-girl act slipped. Her body edged slightly back like his voice alone could break her. She swallowed hard.
"I swear, Malcom. You can ask Owain... I just found out Nathan and Ellie were dating behind my back," she said, her voice softer now, but a little cracked. "I lost it, okay? Owain stopped me before I did something stupid."
Malcom turned to me, that unspoken you'd-better-confirm-this-look in his eyes. I gave him a calm shrug. Nothing else.
She covered for me. I could return the favor. She was already playing well, though.
He sighed, his jaw tight. Then, his anger shifted but still a little protective, but less ready to kill like before.
The only thing holding Malcom back was Karima standing there, and that hurt in her eyes, he couldn't bring himself to add more weight to it.
"You could've called me," he muttered to her, his voice thick with guilt. "I'd have shown up and handled that *ssh*l* myself."
"You wouldn't have made it in time, bro," I said under my breath.
He didn't look at me. He just placed a hand on her shoulder, the other brushing over her cheek with that quiet big-brother tenderness.
"Go fix us something to eat, alright? We'll be out in a minute."
She nodded, her eyes lowering to the ground, before she walked out without another word.
The door clicked shut.
And just like that, Malcom's eyes cut straight to me.
"Stay away from my little sister, Owain. That's not a suggestion, it's a warning."
I almost laughed. Seriously? Calling her little. Was that supposed to be a joke?"
"You sure she's still little?" I muttered with a smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth.
His jaw tightened. "Don't push me. She's not one of your girls you can play games with."
"Relax, man," I held my hands up in mock surrender. "She told you I was just comforting her. Why are you still wound up? Don't you trust her?"
His eyes narrowed, his fists clenched at his side. "I trust her. It's you I don't."
He stepped closer, invading my space, his voice lower but sharper this time. "So just do what I said. Stay. Away."
I chuckled. "Alright, fine. I'll stay off her lane... but you better pray she doesn't come back to mine. I'm not the one chasing her."
He shot me a death glare. "I'm watching you, Owain."
I leaned my head back, letting the silence sit between us before meeting his gaze dead-on. His forehead was pulsing with veins bulging like they were about to explode. That's how you know Malcom's boiling.
I gave a low whistle. "You're acting like she's your girlfriend, not your sister. Might want to tone down that possessiveness a little."
That was it.
His fist slammed into my jaw.
My head jerked sideways, but I didn't stagger. Nah, I'd been expecting it. He needed to blow off steam, and I gave him the spark.
"You don't f*cking tell me how to protect my own blood!" he growled. "Especially not from a s*x-crazed freaks like you."
I rubbed my jaw with a laugh, with a slow and sharp move. "Okay. As you wish. Just try not to make it so obvious you're in love with her. I've done my part keeping your little secret... I'm done now."
That hit home. Exactly, how I imagined it.
He charged forward, and this time I didn't play nice. I caught him mid-swing, twisted him around and drove my fist across his face once, then another shot to his ribs. That first punch was payback, the second was just for fun.
He tackled me again, and we rolled hard across the floor, knocking over a chair and slamming into the side table. He wasn't bad, but he wasn't better than me. Not in a fight.
He obviously did some work out, he'd improved a little but he was still behind me.
Right in the middle of the chaos, there was a knock. It came sharp and fast.
We froze, both of us breathing hard as if we just ran a marathon.
The door creaked open slowly.
And there she was. Karima Heart.
And behind her was... Yasmin.
My d*mm girlfriend.
Sh*t!
My jaw locked immediately.
Yasmin's eyes darted between our blood-flushed faces, the mess on the floor, and our stiff bodies. She blinked.
"Were you guys... fighting?" she asked, her voice low and confused.
Karima said nothing.
And me?
I knew right there, I was officially screwed.
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8.2
I was trapped in a velvet booth at Le Bernardin, Arthur Sterling’s hand crawling up my knee as he whispered that my father would be in handcuffs by morning if I didn't spend the night with him.
Desperate to escape, I lunged at the only man more dangerous than Arthur—Gunnar Kirk, the "Butcher of Wall Street"—and kissed him in front of every camera in the room, thinking I was choosing the lesser of two evils.
I was wrong; Gunnar didn't just play along, he took possession, forcing me into a cold-blooded contract to be his fake fiancée to save his corporate image from an SEC investigation. While my greedy stepmother and sister were busy fighting over the diamonds he sent, I was living in terror, trying to hide the one thing that truly mattered: my infant son, hidden away with a nanny in a cramped Queens apartment. When my baby suffered a febrile seizure and I rushed to the ER, I looked up to see Gunnar standing in the doorway, his glacial eyes boring into me as he realized the "ruined" socialite was hiding a child from her past.
I tried to sabotage the wedding, setting up my fame-hungry stepsister as a decoy bride so I could flee to Switzerland with my son, but Gunnar caught me on the fire escape before I could take a single step toward freedom. He threw me over his shoulder like a sack of flour and told me that if I didn't walk down that aisle, he would personally ensure my father rotted in prison.
We stood at the altar and exchanged vows in a ceremony built on blackmail and lies, but as we walked out as husband and wife, Gunnar didn't look at me with affection; he turned to his assistant and ordered a total deep dive into the medical records I had spent a year trying to erase.
"Find out exactly what happened during those nine months in Switzerland, and tell me who that baby really belongs to."
8.7
My fiancé plunged our SUV into an icy river during a blizzard. He had a choice: save me, or save his childhood sweetheart, Kianna.
He didn't hesitate. He left me to drown.
This wasn't the first time. In my last life, he' d "saved" me after Kianna drowned, only to trap me in a loveless marriage. He blamed me for her death, his silent accusations a constant torment. My own parents didn't care, forcing the wedding to secure a corporate merger. I was nothing more than a pawn.
He married me not for love, but as penance, making me his living scapegoat for the woman he truly lost.
But when I opened my eyes again, I was back in the sinking car, the icy water rising around me.
This time, I smiled and pushed him toward her.
"Save Kianna," I commanded. "She needs you more."
8.7
For years, I was Faron Blackwell' s "whipping post." A cruel pact with his mother forced me to endure one hundred public humiliations for his affairs, a living tally of his conquests. I was a joke to high society, the wife who couldn't keep her husband.
After the final scandal, I discovered I was pregnant. But Faron, repulsed by the scars his family' s punishments left on my body, hadn't touched me in months. He was convinced the child wasn't his.
He ordered his mistress, a doctor, to terminate the pregnancy.
"Make sure she feels every bit of it," he said. "No anesthesia."
To force a confession about a lover who never existed, he trapped me and the children from my non-profit in a building and set off a bomb. As the inferno raged, I heard him screaming my name.
I ran straight into the flames, ready to end the nightmare.
But Faron didn't know his own mother had a different escape plan for me all along.
8.0
After divorcing my cheating husband, I thought I had found my savior in his powerful business partner, Cole.
For three years, he pampered me like a queen, building a perfect, golden cage of devotion.
But on the day I happily discovered I was pregnant, I overheard him talking to my ex-husband's mistress.
"Elinor is just a convenient tool. If she gets pregnant, I'll fake a paternity test and annul the marriage so she leaves with nothing."
My entire marriage was a meticulously crafted lie to secure his position and protect the woman he truly cared about.
Before I could quietly escape, Cole orchestrated a brutal attack.
I was dragged into a dark alley, beaten until my ribs fractured, and my unborn child was violently ripped away from me.
As I lay bleeding out in the freezing rain, my heart shattered into dust.
I didn't understand how the man who kissed me every morning could coldly order his thugs to beat me to death just to appease his real lover.
They left me there to rot, thinking they had finally erased the naive fool who got in their way.
Three years later, the world still believes Elinor Marsh died in a tragic car accident.
But when Cole and his elite circle attend a high-profile Interpol reception, they don't expect the new Chief Liaison Officer to step onto the stage.
I am Helena Fu now, and I have returned to burn their empire to the ground.
7.5
Natalie Brooks, the young lady of the Brooks family, hid her identity to marry Samuel Morgan for love. The three-year cold marriage ended with a divorce when his first love, Lily, returned. Natalie left proudly, returning to her home, the most powerful Brooks family in New York, with her four talented brothers.
Natalie gradually transformed into a strong businesswoman. Samuel was surprised because Natalie was completely different from the image of the weak wife she had been before. He began to waver, remembering the years of living together, but was still surrounded by Lily's weak pretense.
Although Natalie was divorced, she still had lingering feelings, but she chose to strongly confront him, determined to prove her worth. From here, she continuously confronted Samuel and Lily, both to regain what she had lost and to force them to regret ever looking down on her. Meanwhile, Lily always played the role of the "weak girl", taking advantage of Samuel's pity, but she increasingly revealed her jealousy and hypocrisy. Natalie's brothers – especially Nathaniel Brooks and Henry Brooks – were fiercely protective of their sister and wanted Samuel to repent for what he had done to Natalie.
7.1
To survive a forced one-year marriage contract with the ultra-wealthy Chavez family, Averi Marsh disguised herself as a pathetic, ugly duckling.
She caked her flawless skin in muddy yellow foundation, wore thick glasses, and played the part of a trembling, uneducated orphan.
The entire family treated her like literal garbage.
The youngest brother publicly swore he would rather cut off his own hand than marry a piece of trailer park trash.
Her nominal fiancé, Clarke, looked at her with cold disdain, allowing his glamorous companion to humiliate Averi by forcing her into a neon pink clown dress.
At a high-society party, a socialite shoved her into an infinity pool, laughing as the heavy fabric dragged her to the bottom.
They all wanted to see the poor girl broken, humiliated, and driven out of their pristine world.
What they didn't know was that beneath the hideous sweaters was a breathtaking, lethal predator.
They had no idea she was 'Spectre', the undefeated underground racing god who had just humiliated the arrogant Clarke on the track.
They didn't know she could shatter a bully's wrist in seconds or bankrupt their wealthy friends with a single text message.
But when the chlorinated pool water washed away her ugly makeup, the family's ambitious second son caught a glimpse of her true, flawless face.
The game of hide-and-seek was officially over.
The Chavez family thought they were torturing a helpless sheep, but they were about to realize they had locked themselves in a cage with a wolf.