To Punish My Cheating Ex, I Bedded His Stepbrother
To punish my cheating ex, I slept with his stepbrother.
Best decision of my life?
Or the worst mistake I never saw coming?
My fiancé Christopher had been caught with his pants down-again. This time, I wasn't going to cry.
One wild night with Lance Laurent-Christopher's estranged stepbrother, the heir to the Laurent empire, and the most dangerous billionaire in Los Angeles-was supposed to be my revenge.
One night became two. Three. A dozen. Every time Christopher cheated, I'd moan louder in Lance's bed.
An eye for an eye. A betrayal for a betrayal.
When the dust settled and Christopher came crawling back, tears and pleas dripping from his lips, I felt nothing but cold satisfaction.
"Too late," I smiled. "I don't recycle trash."
But turning my back on Christopher was easy. Turning back on Lance Laurent?
He's never a man you use for revenge.
He's the devil you sign a contract with.
"Thinking about him while you're underneath me?" His grip on my jaw was brutal, his hips relentless. "You started this fire. But I decide when it burns out."
Some men you can't walk away from.
Some debts you never stop paying.
And the devil in my bed expects me to stay.
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Chapter 5
"Roxanne, take your seat soon."
The sound of her coworker snapped Roxanne out of her shocking thoughts. It was her workplace, she should be professional no matter who their client was.
Roxanne reminded herself as she headed to her seat.
"Everyone is present, shall we begin, Mr. Laurent?" Her boss politely asked Lance and the latter just nodded his head.
Somehow, Roxanne could feel his aura today was totally different from what he used to have. More abstinent but more charming.
'Charming? Keep your head, Roxy. You two only had a two-night stand. Let it go and focus on your work.'
Shaking off those messy thoughts, Roxanne forced herself to focus back on the meeting while not noticing Lance's face turned colder when she ignored his new message again.
The meeting lasted for several hours before it ended, mainly because of a picky assistant beside Lance. For some reason, Roxanne could feel that it was not that woman hate her design but hated Roxanne the person instead.
Several times, Roxanne couldn't help but glance at Lance to see if it was his idea but he didn't look at her anymore.
Weird. But it might be a good signal that he started losing interest in her.
Roxanne encouraged herself to think positively but the assistant suddenly blocked her way after the meeting.
"Long time no see, Roxanne. Hope we have good cooperation." The woman said to her with a provocative smile and then Roxanne's eyes widened as she remembered who the woman was.
***
"What? Do you mean Julie Curt, your nemesis in college? She is your client now! " Iris exclaimed after Roxanne shared her meeting with Julie that morning. Now, they were at a bar where they usually gather after work.
"Yeah," Roxanne sighed as she took a sip, "But she looked a bit different from before so I didn't recognize her at once."
"Well, good luck, sis." Iris hugged Roxanne and changed the unpleasant topic, "Putting that aside, how are things with you and Chris? "
Roxanne's fingers had curled up around her glass and froze there. Iris barely knew all that was going on. She had left her in the dark for so long and was now feeling guilty. But just as she opened her mouth, the sound of a loud chanting from the dance floor interrupted her.
Iris along with Roxanne turned their heads around slightly and saw a woman who was dressed in a red short gown actively swaying her hips to the music and dancing wildly on the dance floor, attracting the attention of many horny men.
With her red short dress, black heels, and loose blonde hair, the woman was without a doubt, pretty.
"Wait, that woman seems to be Julie Curt." It didn't take Roxanne a few seconds to recognize that face and Iris then squinted her eyes to get a better view.
"She changed a lot," Iris commented and a thought hit her when her eyes fall back on her best friend, "Don't you even realize that the face of Julie Curt now resembles yours."
"What?" Roxanne frowned to hear that. Was Iris mean that Julie got a facelift to look like her? What kidding. They both knew how much Julie Curt hated her.
Roxanne wanted to argue but suddenly noticed that Julie was straight up rejecting any guy who had come up to her as she walked seductively towards the VIP section, swinging her hips at every step.
Then the duo caught a dashing-looking young man there with a glass of whiskey in his hand. It was Lance Laurent.
"That sly little witch." Iris sneered as she watched Julie practically throw herself at Lance.
Iris had never liked Julie.
Not when they had been course mates during college and definitely not now when she was trying to use a face resembling her best friend to seduce her college senior.
No way in hell was she going to allow a leech-like Julie to have her way.
Without saying a single word, Iris stood up and approached Lance in the VIP section before Roxanne could say a single word.
She was stopped at the entrance by a few bouncers but once Lance recognized her, she was allowed in.
"Well if it isn't Lance Laurent." Iris greeted with a genuine smile happy to see her college senior after quite a while.
"Iris," Lance addressed her with one of those his usual bachelor smile. "You've grown."
"Right back at you," Iris said and turned her gaze to the leech seating beside Lance. Her smile dropped as she eyed her viciously and without acknowledging her presence, turned back to Lance.
"When was the last time we met like this, off work I mean?"
Lance chuckled and took a sip from his glass as he remembered the last time he had hung out with Iris and ended up spending close to a million dollars on drinks. "Three years if I recall correctly."
"Well, care to join this junior for a drink?" Iris said and pointed towards her table.
Lance's eyes followed the direction where she had pointed and when his gaze landed on Roxanne who had been watching them and she instantly avoided his eyes, he chuckled.
"I didn't realize you now went for fake copies, Lance." Julie cut their talk while having craftily wrapped her arms around Lance's upper ones.
Iris' smile faded at once. God she really can not stand Julie using that low version of Roxanne's face to do such disgraceful things.
She looked back at Lance. "I didn't expect your taste to diminish so much."
Before Julie lost her temper, Lance just chuckled and stood up, "Let's go for some drink."
Roxanne was nervous while watching them approach. Before Iris had her seat with Lance, she rose from her and dragged Iris by the arm.
"Please excuse us for a minute." She faked a smile at Lance but barely looked him in the eyes before rushing off.
In the restroom, Roxanne made sure they were both alone before asking. "What are you doing?"
Iris seemed confused. She didn't see anything wrong in what she had done.
"Inviting a friend over to join us and drink? Why? What's wrong?"
"A friend?" Roxanne asked and barked a laugh like she was some crazy person. "Unbelievable."
Iris was truly confused at this point and asked. "What's wrong? Roxy, did you do something that you're not telling me about?"
That question was all it took to make Roxanne burst.
"Yes. I slept with him." She admitted and felt like a lump had been removed from her throat, while Iris stared at her silently with wide eyes.
"You. you slept with Lance Laurent?" She had nearly screamed but calmed herself down at the last moment. "Wait, doesn't that mean you cheated on Christopher?"
Roxanne shook her head and pulled Iris closer before explaining the entire situation. By the time she was done, Iris's nostrils were flaring with anger toward Christopher.
"That douche bag." She gritted out. "I swear to God I'd kill him when I get my hands on him."
"Don't." Roxanne objected. "Not yet at least." She added seconds later.
Iris snickered before asking. "So, you and Lance?"
Roxanne felt heat rush to her cheeks and was about to dismiss the topic but before she could, Iris asked.
"Was he good in bed?"
Roxanne thought back to the night they had sex and licked her bottom lip. He had been more than good, fantastic was the word to describe his skills, but obviously she wasn't going to admit that.
"He was average." She told Iris with a shrug. "A bit disappointing if you asked me."
Iris laughed out loud. She couldn't believe what her friend had just said.
"You are crazy, scratch that, insatiable."
Roxanne swatted her teasing aside and leaned against the wash hand basin with a huff.
"Well now that you know, best keep that big mouth of yours shut." She warned.
Iris raised her hand in the air. "You can trust me, this secrete goes to the grave with me." Then she added in. "Shall we head back now?"
Roxanne glanced in the direction of the restroom door and shook her head. She felt like she needed to sober up a bit before going back out. She didn't want to face Lance right now as she seemed to have drunk a bit too much before.
"You go ahead; I think I need to clean my makeup up a bit."
However, when she stepped out of the restroom a few whiles later, she was suddenly picked up and thrown over a shoulder.
A harsh smack on her butt caused her to yelp and her movement to come to a standstill when she heard that familiar voice.
"Some little birdie told me you were quite disappointed with my bed skills. Then let me show you something tough tonight."
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8.6
"What do you think people would say if they found out you don't have a dick?" Christian asked, his voice low and dripping with seduction. His hand pressed firmly against my crotch, fingers exploring the flat, unfamiliar emptiness there. A devilish smirk curved his lips. "Or if they discovered these voluptuous breasts you've been hiding so well?"
A strangled moan slipped from my throat as his hand slid under my shirt, his fingers brushing over my hardened nipples, teasing them with slow, deliberate strokes.
"Which do you think they'd call you?" he murmured, eyes gleaming. "A boy with tits... or a dickless little fraud?"
I stared into his hungry blue eyes, words failing me.
"The term you're looking for is 'girl,'" came Xavier's smooth voice from the bathroom doorway. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click, his gaze raking over me with open interest. "So tell me, little girl... what the hell is someone like you doing in an all-boys dorm?"
Christian's smirk widened. "She wants to be devoured by boys like us." His fingers gave my nipple one last firm pinch before he leaned in closer, breath hot against my ear. "And I'll be more than happy to give her a taste."
9.2
She loved him until she lost herself.
Now, behind locked doors and shattered glass, she must learn to breathe again.
When she first met Lloyd, he was magnetic and intoxicating. The kind of man who turned every head when he entered a room, who spoke in promises sweet enough to taste. With him, she felt chosen, cherished, and safe.
But safety was an illusion, and love became a weapon.
And slowly, piece by piece, he dismantled her until nothing of the woman she once was remained.
Now institutionalized after a breakdown, she begins to piece together the brutal truth of what really happened in the shadows of their love story. Memories sting like open wounds: the manipulation disguised as tenderness, the apologies that blurred into threats, the desperate hope that tomorrow he'd be the man she fell for again.
Yet beneath the grief and the shame, a quiet rebellion stirs, a vow to reclaim her voice, her freedom, and her life. Because this is not just a story of how she fell apart. It is a story of how she rises.
Haunting, raw, and achingly intimate, Boys like him peels back the glittering mask of a toxic love affair to reveal the kind of darkness that hides in plain sight, and the unbreakable strength it takes to escape it.
7.9
After her twin brother's unexplained death at Alpha Academy, Alexandria Hyde takes his place and his name to uncover the truth. Now living as "Alex," she's thrown into a world of hot, testosterone-fueled Alphas who fight to the brink of death... and she has to survive it while hiding who she really is.
But staying hidden isn't easy–
Not when the Alphas start noticing her.
Not when the truth she's chasing might destroy her first.
And definitely not when they start fighting for her instead.
7.6
Johana walked half a mile through a brutal blizzard just to secure a tutoring job with the elite Black family.
But the very night she was hired, she received a terrifying call from the ER—her quiet roommate, Hazelle, had been drugged and severely traumatized at a Hamptons party.
When Johana rushed to the hospital, she didn't find the police. Instead, she found a team of ruthless billionaires erasing the crime.
Leading them was Dalton Black, the cold, arrogant older brother of her new student.
Within minutes, Dalton's fixers wiped the hospital's security footage, deleted all digital evidence, and forcefully transferred Hazelle to a locked private psychiatric facility.
"We are ensuring her privacy."
Dalton's voice was devoid of emotion, treating the horrific assault like a minor PR glitch.
His friends mocked Johana's powerlessness, while Dalton authorized a blank check to pay for the private ward, effectively burying the scandal and buying their silence.
Johana stood in the sterile hallway, trembling with a mix of despair and absolute rage.
How could they destroy an innocent girl's life and simply pay to make it disappear? Why was the truth so easily erased by money?
She had no wealth, no connections, and no proof, but she refused to be a victim of their cover-up.
Staring directly into Dalton's intimidating, icy blue eyes, Johana made a vow.
"I don't want your money. I will find out what you monsters did to her."
She thought the billionaire heir would crush her on the spot, but instead, he watched her walk away and quietly ordered his assistant: "Find out everything about Johana Neal."
7.2
Clara's husband of three years walked into their penthouse with two lawyers.
He threw a divorce agreement on the table, demanding she sign away all her assets. If she refused, he would bankrupt her family and send her mother to federal prison.
He did it all for his new girlfriend, Corinne. After stripping Clara of everything, Kane stood by while Corinne publicly humiliated her, stepping on her fingers and mocking her misery. When Kane suspected Clara might be pregnant, he dragged her to a private clinic. He forced her onto an examination table and ordered a deeply invasive medical check-up, treating her like absolute garbage just to ensure she wasn't carrying his heir.
Lying on the cold medical bed in a thin paper gown, Clara's heart completely shattered. She didn't understand how the man who once promised her forever could turn into such a ruthless monster. She was indeed pregnant, but she knew if he found out, he would steal her baby and destroy her completely.
With the help of a tech-genius friend, Clara faked a negative test result and escaped his clutches. The next day, she walked into their company, threw a bold "I QUIT" note right in the mistress's face, and walked away. Touching her belly, Clara swore she would return to make them pay for every single thing they had done.
9.3
My father ordered me to marry into the cursed Vaughn family.
Their heirs were rumored to die young from a mysterious genetic agony. My sister Kayden laughed, saying she wasn't going to waste her youth planning a funeral. So, I became the sacrificial lamb.
When I refused, my father slammed his hand on the table and threatened to throw my dead mother's ashes into the city dump.
"You are a struggling actress with no money and no power. You have no choice," he told me coldly.
To make matters worse, my own agent drugged my drink at a business dinner, trying to sell my body to a sleazy investor just to secure project funding.
I was completely cornered, suffocating under the weight of their cruelty. I couldn't understand how my own flesh and blood could be so vicious, treating me like a worthless pawn to be traded and discarded.
But none of them knew that while escaping the drug-laced dinner, I crashed directly into the terrifying Vaughn heir, Algot.
When his glowing crimson eyes locked onto me during a violent episode of his cursed pain, we discovered an impossible truth: my physical touch was the only cure for his agony.
Looking at the dark bruises he accidentally left on my neck, I chose not to run. Instead, I pulled out the private business card he gave me and dialed his number.
"You need me," I whispered to the dangerous billionaire. "And I am going to use you to destroy them all."