
The Billionaire's Obsession; Her Toxic Desires.
He is in pain, but so is she. He is her cure, and she is his sweet addiction...
Resisting her boss is the hardest thing Caitlyn has ever had to do, especially when she's married to the man she thinks she loves. How can she be so lose and lack self control? She has no idea, all she wants is to be claimed by him, her ruthless billionaire boss.
These dangerous, toxic desires will soon graduate into something more sinister and more twisted that she could have ever imagined. How will Caitlyn survive the danger that comes with being the billionaire's obsession?
***
"You torment me."
"You will be the end of me."
My body shudders, awaiting his touch. Waiting is torture, I want him to touch me now.
"Claim me, do it now." I whisper.
"Well.." he breathes on my skin, "Your wish is my command, kitten."
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Chapter 6
Caitlyn's pov.
"The magistrate will be here tomorrow morning to register our wedding." Zayn said, taking giant strides towards the elevator as if a war was coming. I had to run after him if I wanted to make it into the elevator with him.
"Why so soon?" I asked, panting as he pressed the third floor button. The elevator dinged shut and he raised a brow at me, his face unreadable.
"I have a business deal to land, Caitlyn, try to keep up. After the wedding, we're going to attend an event where you'll meet delegates and important personalities." He read out and I scratched my head.
The information seemed like a lot to take in, everything was happening too fast. I took in a deep breath, his cologne filling my nostrils and leaving me weak in the knees once again.
"But.. I don't know anyone, what do I even say?" My voice was frail as I was struggling to remain sane beside my hot boss.
"Vladimir will tell you all you need to know."
"Who's Vladimir?"
"You'll find out."
He didn't say another word to me after that, almost like he turned himself off. I attempted to start a conversation after we got out of the elevator but all I got in return was scowls and glares. He can be so annoying, it's hard to believe that he is the same guy who was cock deep inside me last night.
"Where are you going?" He suddenly stopped walking and faced me. I swallowed, confused.
"Following you, sir."
"It's past midnight, go to bed. We have a long day ahead of us." He said and strutted off, disappearing into another hallway while I stood there with a lump in my throat and my fists balled beside me.
How is it so easy for him to move on and pretend like nothing happened between us? He's treating me like a stranger, and here I was, thinking that we shared something.
He's Zayn Morrison after all, this is what he's known for. I knew this, but my chest still burned from the pain.
"Miss?"
I turned around to see Miss Rose smiling at me.
"Your room is this way."
I nodded and followed her, going back to the same room that I had tried to escape from. I slumped into the bed after changing into a pair of pajamas that I found in the walk-in closet, and within minutes, I fell asleep.
******
"The magistrate is here."
Miss Rose's voice came while I was trying to force the tiny blue dress down my head. It was the only dress available, my bags were still at the office. It would have been my size if I hadn't had a breakfast meant for two people before coming up to get dressed.
"I'll be down in a sec." I answered, finally pulling the dress down.
I brushed back my hair with my hand and smiled at my reflection. I thought I looked good, so I went downstairs to meet Zayn and the magistrate.
I came out of the elevator and walked towards the living room. Zayn was discussing with two other men. One was dressed corporately, I guessed he was the lawyer, while the other man wore a casual outfit, his face stone cold. He didn't look American.
"Sorry I'm late, couldn't find anything to wear." I chuckled nervously, tugging on the dress.
Zayn finally turned around, and I swear I saw him break a sweat when he set his eyes on me. His Adam's apple bobbed as his eyes ravaged me, exploring every inch of my body. My cheeks heated up and turned away, taking my seat.
"Uh.. yeah, I'll have someone pick up your clothes today." He cleared his throat and faced the lawyer. "Can we proceed?"
"Yes," the middle aged lawyer adjusted his glasses and pulled out a bunch of papers from his suitcase. "What about her witness?" He pointed at me and I raised my eyebrows in confusion.
"She doesn't need any witness, Vladimir is here for both of us." Zayn quickly answered, focusing on the papers in front of him.
Oh.. so he's Vladimir.
"Alright then. I don't think there's any need for the formalities, we can just go right ahead and.."
"You talk way too much. Open the fucking document!"
Zayn's outburst made me flinch. Why is he so impatient?
"Sorry sir." The lawyer shivered, quickly opening the document and pointing out where we should sign. Zayn picked up the pen first and signed, while I watched and wondered if I was really about to do the right thing.
I raised my head only to find Vladimir staring at me. He didn't even bother to look away, and I couldn't decipher why he was even looking at me. His face was just as unreadable as Zayn's, and something about him made me shift in my seat.
"Caitlyn!" Zayn snapped, and I flinched again, blinking at him.
"Yes." I answered, taking the pen from him and signing my own part of the document.
I didn't understand why he was being so hostile towards me all of a sudden.
"You're both husband and wife." The lawyer pronounced and my heart sunk. It suddenly dawned on me that I had gotten married to my boss just a day after divorcing my shithead husband.
How on earth did I even get myself into this mess? I fell back on the couch, trailing off for a moment. What the hell have I done? My heart was racing, and my head started to itch badly.
"Are you okay?" I heard a deep voice out of nowhere and I jolted from my thoughts, only to find Vladimir standing in front of me. He was taller than I thought.
"I'm fine."
"Well, Zayn just left with the lawyer, and he asked me to tell you everything you need to know about the event tonight." His accent was Russian, I guess that would explain his name. He made himself comfortable beside me.
"He already left?" I asked.
"Yes. Now, pay attention to every little detail that I'm going to give. The event is a gathering of esteemed men and women from various organizations. Tech, insurance, cosmetics, celebrities, literally any organization you can think of. So here's all you need to know."
Vladimir explained everything perfectly to me like I was a toddler, completely countering the impression I had of him at first. He was nice, and I felt really comfortable around him.
Soon, he was done explaining everything, but I was nervous about being presented to everyone as Zayn's wife.
Later that night, Zayn returned with a bag, it contained a dress, the dress that I was supposed to wear to the event. It was a long red dress with gold embellishments, and a thigh high slit, completely different from what I was used to. It came with expensive looking gold jewelry, and a pair of YSL heels to go with it.
"Get dressed." He ordered, "we'll be leaving soon." He tried to walk away but I stopped him, hurt by his coldness towards me.
"Did I do something wrong?" I stared down at my feet and he grunted.
"What do you mean? And look at me when you're talking to me." He said and I raised my head immediately.
"You.. you have been cold to me since yesterday, and I thought.."
"You thought what?" He quickly cut me off and I swallowed. "You thought we were going to become best buddies after we spent one night together? You're just one of the other girls, so don't get ahead of yourself."
My heart dropped to my feet, and I stood there, glued to the floor with tears streaming down my face as I watched him walk away.
My fists tightened and I grabbed the dress, along with the jewelry, walking out of the manor.
"Just one of the other girls? Then why did he ask me to marry him!?" Tears burned the corners of my eyes as I stuffed the dress into the trash can, making sure I buried it at the bottom of the can.
"Fuck you and your dress, Zayn Morrison."
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8.2
William Donavan is an oil magnate, but his life of wealth and privileges couldn't prevent him from falling ill. Now, with only one year left to live, he must race to secure an heir.
That is, until he crosses paths with Sophia Davis-a young woman who works as a waitress by day and spends her nights sleeping on a park bench.
Sophia is going through the worst phase of her life since her mother passed away and she was forced to run away from home. She works hard and saves every penny, dreaming of affording a place to live.
When she's approached by a man offering her a marriage contract that includes having a child-all she has to do is sign, and her life would change forever.

8.6
I was eight months pregnant with the heir to the city's most powerful crime family. My husband, Austen, told me he was hosting a private celebration to honor me and the baby.
But when I walked into the warehouse, the steel doors slammed shut behind me.
I wasn't in a ballroom. I was locked inside an industrial glass freezer.
Through the thick glass, I saw Austen standing with his assistant, Deb. They were laughing. He told me he didn't care about his son; he only cared about the trust fund that would unlock upon my father's death.
"Cool her off," he ordered.
His men dumped buckets of ice water onto me. The shock was instant. I begged him to stop, screaming for the life of our child, but he just watched with cold eyes.
As I collapsed into a slush of ice and my own blood, I felt the baby fade away.
Austen thought he had won. He thought my father, the Don, was dead and buried. He thought I was just a helpless, spoiled princess he could dispose of to seize the throne.
He was wrong.
With my last ounce of strength, I looked through the glass and mouthed three words: "He is coming."
Before Austen could react, the warehouse doors didn't just open—they exploded inward.
And through the smoke walked the man Austen thought was worm food.
My father wasn't dead. But my husband was about to wish he was.

7.4
"Will you be a good girl for Daddy?" His husky voice dripped with lust.
"Yes, please fuck me hard, Daddy." I answered, breathlessly.
His hands were all over my body as he pressed into me roughly and I could feel my pussy swelling in response to his hardness.
"Good," he whispered against my ear, teeth nipping at my skin. "Because you'll be a damn good whore."He bit down again, pulling away from me long enough to grab one of my wrists and pin it above my head, then began fucking me hard, his hips rolling violently and slamming into mine in time with his movements.
•• •• ••
Camille Caldwell, tasked by her wealthy father to learn the ropes of business under the watchful eyes of a dear and trusted mentor, Gavriel found herself juggling between being a dutiful secretary and a seductive temptress at night.
At first, all she wanted from him was for him to give a good report to her father of her behavior, but as she got closer to him, she couldn't resist the magnetic attraction that drew her to him.
When Billionaire Gavriel Donovan agreed to take the only daughter of his friend under his wing as his secretary, he merely counted it as doing a favor for an old friend, but Camille will have him doing the unthinkable, and he'll have her pinned beneath him, screaming for more pleasure.
Can their forbidden desires survive in a world where their romance is regarded as abominable?
Was Gavriel willing to put his friendship and reputation on the line for a girl he was old enough to father?
*****
This book unapologetically contains very dark, raw, and mature contents. Do not open unless you'd love to be stuck in a sex-filled, lusty, and romantic world.

8.6
"Do you feel that, Wren? That pull between us?" His eyes darken, flicking to my mouth. "It's wrong. Your brother would slit my throat for even standing this close. But tell me, little bird-" his breath ghosts against my skin, "-are you trembling because you hate me... or because you've wanted this as much as I have?"
>>>
Wren thought she'd left the chaos of New Orleans behind; the club life, the blood-soaked loyalty, the men who lived and died by their kuttes. Seattle gave her everything she could ever want-freedom, love, a future.
But one betrayal sends it all crashing down.
Dragged back home by tragedy, Wren finds herself under the watchful eye of Ezra Jax, the vice president of the Raven Reapers MC, and her brother's best friend. He's infuriating, dangerous, and far too tempting.
But the deeper she's pulled into his world, the more she realizes that nothing about her past or Ezra, is what she thought.
Yet in the chaos of gang wars, debts, and betrayals, he's the one who never leaves her side. The more she fights him, the harder she falls. And the more he pushes her away, the more dangerous his pull becomes.
Because in this world, love isn't sweet. It's brutal, bloody, and bound to break them both.
When loyalty is everything and love can cost your life, will Wren risk her heart on the one man she was never meant to love?

8.3
For three years, I was the perfect, invisible wife to Bart Brown. On our third anniversary, I stood in the kitchen for four hours, preparing his favorite meal with imported truffles, only to receive a cold text command.
"Crysta fainted again. Get to the hospital. Now."
My rare Rh-negative blood was the only thing the Brown family valued. Bart didn't want a wife; he wanted a walking blood bank for his "sick" best friend, Crysta. While I was fainting from chronic anemia, Crysta was smirking in her hospital bed, clutching Bart's hand and mocking my "peasant" lifestyle.
Even his mother treated me like a servant, demanding I vacuum the floors after I'd already offered my veins for the hundredth time. When I finally reached my breaking point and signed the divorce papers, they didn't let me go quietly. They filed a false police report, accusing me of stealing a multi-million dollar diamond necklace just to watch me crawl.
I didn't understand how a family could be so heartless. I had cooked their meals, cleaned their house, and literally bled for them, yet they were determined to ruin my life the moment I stopped being useful. Did they really think I was a nobody with nowhere to go?
Standing outside the hospital with a bruised wrist and nothing to my name, I didn't cry. I simply took off my cheap wedding ring and dialed a secure line I hadn't touched since the day I married him.
"It's me, Dad," I whispered as a fleet of black Maybachs rounded the corner. "The extraction is a go. I'm coming home."

8.4
My sister, Eleanor, was the laughingstock of the Vance family.
She was known as the pathetic, socially crippled heiress, bullied at school and discarded by our father for his new step-daughter.
I thought she just couldn't handle the pressure, until I stood in the freezing morgue and watched the heavy industrial zipper seal her bruised face away forever.
The car crash that killed her wasn't an accident.
Our cousin paid the driver to secure the family trust fund. Our step-sister Sophia orchestrated her daily torment, and our father Arthur embezzled her inheritance to buy a fake Ivy League pedigree.
They ruined Eleanor's reputation, painted her as a disfigured lunatic, and left her to die in absolute despair.
Why did the people who shared our blood treat her worse than a stray dog? How could they smile for the cameras while her blood was still wet on their hands?
They thought with Eleanor dead, they had finally won.
But they didn't know I existed.
I scrubbed the weakness from her name and took over her identity.
I slipped into a black tactical suit, bypassed military-grade security, and walked straight into the office of Wall Street's apex predator, Ethan Thorne.
I pressed a combat knife against his aorta and looked into his cold eyes.
"I need a political marriage. And you need a wife."
Starting today, Eleanor Vance is back, and the entire family is going to burn.