The Ruby Shackle: Bound To The Billionaire
I’m a CIA operative known as "The Auditor," and for months, I’ve played the role of a pathetic, abused ward in Basil Dean’s mansion. My mission was simple: gather intel on a paranoid billionaire while pretending to be a girl who flinches at her own shadow and knows nothing of the world.
The balance shattered when Basil found a photo of me smiling at a local mechanic. He didn't just get angry; he dragged me into his soundproof vault, his leather-gloved thumb pressing into my carotid artery to feel the frantic, terrified thrum of my heart.
He tagged me with a ruby bracelet—a high-tech tracking device that reported my GPS and biometrics to his phone every second. His stepsister, Corine, smelled blood in the water, accusing me of theft while Basil watched my heart rate spike on his screen like a lab rat in a cage. I was trapped in a gilded nightmare, forced to scrub floors and endure his predatory stares while a fifty-thousand-dollar shackle recorded my every breath.
I couldn't tell if he was a grieving recluse or a shark playing with his food, but every time my signal dropped, he was there, looming in the shadows, waiting for me to slip up. I was drowning in a game where the rules changed every time I tried to fight back, and the agency was starting to think I’d turned.
To end the charade, I handed the bracelet back to him in front of the entire kitchen staff, a public rejection of his twisted ownership. Basil didn't blink; he took a heavy meat mallet and smashed the ruby to dust right in front of me before making a phone call that turned my mission into a death trap.
"Get the prenup ready," he hissed, his eyes burning with a terrifying, sane obsession.
"I'm marrying her."
Chapters
Share
Chapter 3
The sunroom was blindingly bright.
Audie stood on a ladder, wiping the floor-to-ceiling glass. Her arm ached, but the rhythmic motion was grounding. Through the glass, she could see the manicured gardens. Basil was out there, walking Duchess. He was limping.
"Audie, come down from there."
Corine sat at the wrought-iron table, sipping tea from bone china. She looked benevolent today.
Audie climbed down. She missed the last step and stumbled.
"Careful," Corine chided gently. She placed a slip of paper on the table. "For the dress. And for your... trouble last night."
Audie picked it up. A check for five hundred dollars.
She widened her eyes. She looked at Corine and shook her head, pushing the check back across the table.
"Nonsense. A girl needs to look presentable. I can't have you walking around smelling like fast food," Corine insisted, her smile not reaching her eyes. "Basil has been under a lot of pressure with the asset freeze. If he takes it out on you, just know it's the illness talking."
Audie gave a small, reluctant nod, leaving the check on the table.
The glass door slid open.
Basil walked in. Duchess strained at the leash, barking ferociously at Audie.
Audie shrieked and ducked behind Corine's chair.
"Control that beast, Basil!" Corine snapped.
Basil shortened the leash. He looked pale, sweat beading on his forehead despite the chill morning air. His eyes landed on the check on the table.
"What is that?"
"Compensation," Corine said. "For the dress you ruined."
Basil walked over. He snatched the check from the table.
"Basil!" Corine gasped.
He ripped the check in half. Then into quarters. He let the confetti rain down onto the pristine tile.
"Deans don't give handouts to beggars," he sneered.
Audie whimpered, covering her face with her hands.
"She needs clothes, Basil," Corine said, her voice tight.
"Then I will buy them," Basil said. He stared at Audie, his gaze burning through her fingers. "I decide what she wears. I decide what she owns. She doesn't take money from anyone else. Is that clear?"
"You're being irrational," Corine said, reaching for the bell to summon the nurse. "You need your morning dose."
Basil leaned in close to Audie, under the pretense of intimidating her.
"Library. Tonight," he murmured. The sound was barely a breath. "Come collect what you're owed."
He straightened up and stormed out, dragging the growling dog with him.
Audie fled to the kitchen. Her heart was pounding, but not from fear.
She found a corner near the pantry where the cameras had a blind spot. She wiped her dry eyes.
Basil wasn't being irrational. He was cutting off her supply lines. He wanted her dependent solely on him.
She looked up at the corner of the ceiling. A new camera blinking red.
He was watching. Everywhere.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. A text from an unknown number. Arthur.
Hey. I know last night was weird. But the fair is in town this weekend. Maybe we could try again? No BBQ sauce this time. :)
Audie's thumb hovered over the delete button. Basil had warned her.
She deleted the message.
You may also like
8.6
Seven nights with the devil to pay a debt. One truth that will burn the world down.
Sienna Blackwood was never part of the deal until her step-brother gambled with her life to save his own.
Now, she is collateral in a brutal game of revenge. The collector is Dante Moretti, a billionaire with a fifteen-year grudge and a thirst for Blackwood blood.
He doesn't want her money; he demands seven nights of her total surrender.
But in the shadows of a Manhattan penthouse, hatred turns into a lethal obsession. When a syndicate ambush forces them to flee, the contract becomes a race for survival across the Atlantic.
Hunted for the three-year-old secret heir in their arms, Sienna and Dante must navigate a world of blood oaths and forced alliances.
In a game where every kiss is a tactical error, Sienna must decide: is her step-brother's rival the monster who shattered her life, or the only man who can save it?
7.3
TRIGGER WARNING
This book is STRICTLY EROTICA. It contains graphic sexual content, taboo themes, age gaps, and explicit scenarios intended for mature audiences only (18+).
If you are underage or easily disturbed by mature, forbidden, or extreme content, do not read this book.
About the Collection
This is not romance. There are no fade-to-black moments.
Every word drips with heat, sin, and raw pounding desire. Between these pages, you'll find stories that push boundaries and explore the forbidden-age gap temptation, reckless taboos, and sinful encounters.
And when you think you can't take more, a bonus awaits you at the end-an exclusive MILF , BDSM series written to make you horny instantly.
If you came here for the hottest, most descriptive, most unapologetic erotica.
You're in the right place.
Are you ready to sin?
Don't touch yourself too much🤭
9.5
Reyna has one mission... And it is definitely not falling for the guy who ruined her best friend's life.
Reyna Davidson is twenty and torn when her best friend, Varna Soni's heart gets broken by Grentwood's hockey-star-playboy, Evander Gabriel.
His betrayal sparks a chain effect, driving Varna into drugs, and eventually, psychiatric hospitalization.
Reyna, overtaken by grief and anger, sets her vengeful eyes on Evander.
She transfers to Grentwood College, armed with one mission: Get close, make him fall, then crush his heart until it bleeds and he feels the pain Varna felt.
But things take a dark turn when she starts to see cracks beneath Evander's perfect playboy mask.
And she becomes the target of a psychopathic girl who is obsessed with him.
With growing feelings, a mentally ill best friend, and the psychopath, Reyna is about to discover that there is more to her mission... than revenge.
9.4
"I'm terribly sorry my champagne found your face so magnetic, Captain."
Theodore Ashford does not get angry. No - he smiles. Slow. Amused. Dangerous.
"No apology necessary, Lady Cruelton. In fact, I insist you join us for dinner next week. I find you... fascinating."
-
Beatrice Whitmore died once already.
She wakes up inside a 1940s romance novel - not as the heroine, but as the infamous purple-haired villainess destined for scandal, disgrace, and an early grave. Everyone hates Lady Cruelton.
Which is perfect.
Because survival comes with rules.
A mysterious System rewards her with Hatred Points for humiliation, social ruin, and expertly executed cruelty. The more she's despised, the longer she lives. Reform is fatal. Kindness is suicide.
Being terrible should be easy.
Until Captain Theodore Ashford - decorated war hero, heir to an estate as vast as his ego - refuses to despise her. Immune to her schemes, unfazed by her insults, he watches her with knowing amusement... as if he sees through every calculated performance.
Faking her death was supposed to secure her escape from the plot.
Instead, his attention drags her deeper into it.
Now Beatrice must outmaneuver gossip, rewrite a story determined to destroy her, and earn enough Hatred Points to survive - without falling for the only man who doesn't hate her.
Because in a world where love is the true death sentence for a villainess...
Cruelty might be her only way out
7.6
I was kneeling on the cold concrete of an abandoned warehouse, staring at a ticking timer while a masked man held a knife to my throat. My fiancé's nephew, Preston, finally burst through the door, but he wasn't alone. He was clutching my stepsister, Felicia, both of them looking frantic.
The kidnapper gave Preston a brutal choice: the bomb was rigged to the door, and he could only take one woman with him. The other would stay behind to burn.
Without a single second of hesitation, Preston grabbed Felicia's hand and turned his back on me.
"I'm sorry, Annelise," he said, his voice flat and devoid of any real regret.
He slammed the heavy iron door shut, leaving me to scream in the darkness as the flames began to roar. He didn't just leave me to die; he did it to protect his inheritance, treating me like a piece of trash that was finally being cleared from his path.
Later, in the hospital, he didn't even offer an apology. Instead, he raised his hand to strike me, threatening to finish what the fire started if I dared to speak a word about his cowardice. His stepsister laughed, trying to pour scalding coffee on my face while calling me a pathetic loser who should have stayed in the warehouse.
I sat there, cowering and shaking like a broken girl, letting them believe they had won. I watched their cruelty with wide, watery eyes, wondering how they could be so blind to the monster they were provoking.
What Preston didn't know was that the entire kidnapping was a performance I had choreographed myself, and every second of his betrayal was recorded in 4K.
Now, I've successfully moved into the manor of the real king-his uncle, Francesco Lancaster. He thinks he's rescued a wounded bird, but he's actually invited a world-class predator into his home. The game is no longer about survival; it's about total destruction.
8.3
For three years, I was the lowest Omega in the Blackwood Pack, hopelessly devoted to my Fated Mate, Alpha Kaelen.
But when I was mauled by rogues and bleeding out in the freezing forest, I desperately begged him for help through our mate link. He crushed his wolf’s instincts to save me and sent back a chilling thought before severing our connection completely.
"She is a mistake. Silence."
He didn't just leave me to die. The next morning, he dragged me before the entire pack, publicly rejected me, and let his people strip me of my clothes and dignity. They threw me out of the territory with nothing but a scratchy burlap sack, expecting the deadly wilderness to claim my life by nightfall.
I thought my life was over, until I stumbled upon a hidden sanctuary in the woods and uncovered a horrific truth. I wasn't just a worthless Omega. I was the last surviving Matron Luna of the legendary Mooncrest Pack—a powerful pack that Kaelen's own father had brutally massacred decades ago out of pure jealousy.
He thought he had discarded a piece of trash, entirely unaware of the blood feud between our families. He didn't know he had just set me free.
Now, with my ancient powers awakening and my lost people gathering by my side, I am going to make the Alpha who threw me away pay for every drop of blood his family spilled.