Trapped By The President's Dangerous Secret
I was just a urologist trying to survive my first solo VIP consult. The patient was an arrogant, terrifying man who refused a basic exam.
But an hour later, I was in the ER, watching his seven-year-old son bleed out on the operating table.
The boy had the rarest blood type in the world—Rh-null. And so did I.
I gave my blood to save the kid, thinking that would be the end of it. I was completely wrong.
The terrifying VIP was Auguste Raymond, the President of the United States.
Because the traumatized First Son woke up crying for me, the White House didn't just thank me. They took me.
My own mentor blackmailed me with my mother's nursing home fees, threatening to cut off her medical funding if I didn't comply.
The Secret Service shoved me into a black SUV, confiscated my phone, and forced me to sign a strict NDA.
I was stripped of my medical career and locked inside the West Wing. I gave my blood to save his only son, and in return, the President made me his prisoner.
Standing in the Oval Office, facing the most powerful man in the free world, I realized my normal life was over.
"Your medical duties are suspended indefinitely. You are nothing but a nanny now," he ordered coldly.
I looked at the encrypted burner phone they handed me, typed a single text, and accepted my golden cage.
"I'm in."
Chapters
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Chapter 1
Ana stared at the medical chart in her hands.
The name printed at the top was Arthur Vance.
Below that, the entire medical history section was completely blank.
No previous surgeries. No current medications. Not even a listed primary care physician.
A heavy knot of annoyance formed in her stomach.
She pressed the button on the internal intercom sitting on her desk.
"Send the patient in."
Before she could even lift her finger from the plastic button, the heavy wooden door of the VIP consultation room was shoved open.
It hit the wall with a dull, violent thud.
Two massive men wearing dark suits and earpieces stepped into the room.
Their eyes darted to the corners of the ceiling, scanning the blind spots of the security cameras.
Ana's pulse spiked.
She pushed her chair back and stood up, her jaw tightening.
"Excuse me, you are violating HIPAA privacy laws. Get out of my clinic."
A tall man in a dark, custom-tailored trench coat walked right past the bodyguards.
Auguste stopped in the center of the room.
His cold, piercing gaze locked onto Ana's face.
The air in the room instantly felt thinner, pressing down on her chest and making it hard to breathe.
He walked over to the examination table but didn't sit down.
He just stood there, his eyes scanning the medical equipment with absolute disdain.
Ana forced her heart rate to slow down.
She picked up her stethoscope from the desk.
"Take off your coat and put on the hospital gown."
Auguste completely ignored her instruction.
"Which security firm handles this hospital's network? The perimeter feels remarkably porous for a private facility."
Ana froze, her fingers gripping the metal of the stethoscope until her knuckles turned white.
She felt a hot flush of anger crawl up her neck.
He was dodging the issue of his hidden illness.
"Avoiding medical treatment will only lead to permanent damage to your prostate function, Mr. Vance."
A dangerous, dark glint flashed in Auguste's eyes.
He took a slow step forward, his tall frame leaning slightly toward her.
The bodyguard on the left immediately stepped forward, his body angling slightly as he placed a flat hand against his suit lapel, physically inserting himself between Ana and Auguste in a clear, professional warning posture.
Auguste raised his right hand, making a tiny, sharp gesture with his fingers.
The bodyguard snapped back to his original position instantly.
Ana's stomach dropped at the sudden movement, but she refused to back down.
She grabbed a plastic urine collection cup from the counter and shoved it toward him.
Auguste looked down at the plastic cup.
The corner of his mouth twitched upward in a brutal, mocking smirk.
He reached out, took the cup from her hand, and dropped it straight into the biohazard waste bin.
Ana slammed her palm against the desk.
"If you refuse to cooperate, leave my clinic right now."
Auguste opened his mouth to speak, but a tiny red light suddenly flashed inside his right ear.
The color drained from his face.
His lazy arrogance vanished, replaced by an expression of pure, lethal alertness.
The two bodyguards lunged forward, using their massive bodies to form a tactical shield between Auguste and Ana.
Auguste turned around and strode toward the door.
He didn't offer a single word of explanation.
Ana ran around the desk, reaching out to grab the sleeve of his trench coat.
"You still have to pay the consultation fee!"
The bodyguard shoved her shoulder hard.
The force sent Ana stumbling backward, her heels catching on the linoleum floor.
Auguste disappeared down the hallway.
The heavy door slammed shut in her face.
Ana rubbed her aching shoulder, staring at the empty room.
A bitter taste of humiliation coated the back of her throat.
She grabbed the blank medical chart and hurled it into the trash can.
Her first independent VIP consultation was a complete failure.
Suddenly, a high-pitched alarm blared from the hospital's overhead PA system.
The sound vibrated in her teeth.
"Code Trauma. Level One. Emergency Department."
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7.9
June was an ordinary architect struggling to pay rent, completely estranged from her high-society mother.
But one night, she was kidnapped and beaten in an abandoned warehouse by Gage Becker, the city's most ruthless billionaire, who demanded payback for her mother's sins.
Gage pointed a high-definition camera at June's battered face and video-called her mother, threatening to release the footage and ruin her upcoming billion-dollar wedding.
"I will never throw away a billion-dollar marriage for a useless daughter."
Her mother's cold voice echoed through the warehouse before the line went dead.
From that moment, Gage systematically destroyed June's life. She was publicly humiliated and forced to hack off her own hair with a cigar cutter. She was blacklisted from every firm in the city, evicted by her landlord, and violently mugged in a freezing New York blizzard.
Curled up in an icy tunnel waiting to die, June felt a suffocating despair. She hadn't spoken to her mother in months. Why did she have to endure this hell for a woman who didn't even care if she lived or died? Why was a monster like Gage so obsessed with driving her to the grave?
When Gage's armored Maybach pulled up, he stepped into the snow to mock her, waiting for her to finally surrender and beg for his mercy.
But the absolute humiliation snapped the last thread of June's sanity.
Instead of crying, she lunged forward with feral energy and sank her teeth directly into the devil's flesh.
8.7
Explicit 18+ | Reader Discretion Strongly Advised
Dark themes, noncon/dubcon, extreme kink, power imbalance, group dynamics, knotting, overstimulation, and possessive claiming ahead.
A brutal omegaverse world. Warring packs. Rare silver-eyed omega Kai Voss lives hidden until a midnight raid destroys his safety.
The most feared triad captures him: Thorne Blackwood, a pierced sadist who pushes limits; Aurelius Voss, the volatile second, his knot pulsing with hunger; Cassian Reyes, the silent, amber-eyed observer whose fixation vows complete ownership. Dragged to their mountain den, Kai becomes their prize.
Defiant and sharp-tongued, Kai resists every command. His body betrays him with slick, aching need. On the first night, the alphas take him, one by one, then together. They stretch him past reason. Knot him impossibly. Fill him until his rim thins visibly. Slick eases the searing burn into shattering pleasure.
"Room for one more?" Thorne growls, forcing his pierced length beside the two already locked inside. He drags across sensitive spots until Kai arches, tears falling, his body yielding as omega instincts beg for more.
Three cocks locked and throbbing, owning him entirely.
"Fuck, he's taking us all," Aurelius groans.
Cassian watches silently, eyes blazing, plotting the next step to remake Kai forever.
Raw conquest becomes unbreakable obsession: relentless heats, punishments blending pain and ecstasy, jealous rivalries over cries, rare tenderness binding possession deeper.
Three ruthless alphas pursue the forbidden, shattering their defiant omega until he is stretched wide, ruined, reborn in their image. Relentless desire shows no mercy: tight entrances forced open, rimmed raw by impossible girths, slick-soaked and pulsing under unyielding ownership.
Hide and read in secret. Once the story begins, escape is impossible. Squirm. Ache. Hunger for every page.
DON'T BLAME ME WHEN YOU CAN'T STOP READING ALL 150 CHAPTERS ⚠️🔞‼️
8.7
I was the spare daughter of the Vitiello crime family, born solely to provide organs for my golden sister, Isabella.
Four years ago, under the codename "Seven," I nursed Dante Moretti, the Don of Chicago, back to health in a safe house. I was the one who held him in the dark.
But Isabella stole my name, my credit, and the man I loved.
Now, Dante looked at me with nothing but cold disgust, believing her lies.
When a neon sign crashed down on the street, Dante used his body to shield Isabella, leaving me to be crushed under twisted steel.
While Isabella sat in a VIP suite crying over a scratch, I lay broken, listening to my parents discuss if my kidneys were still viable for harvest.
The final straw came at their engagement gala. When Dante saw me wearing the lava stone bracelet I had worn in the safe house, he accused me of stealing it from Isabella.
He ordered my father to punish me.
I took fifty lashes to my back while Dante covered Isabella's eyes, protecting her from the ugly truth.
That night, the love in my heart finally died.
On the morning of their wedding, I handed Dante a gift box containing a cassette tape-the only proof that I was Seven.
Then, I signed the papers disowning my family, threw my phone out the car window, and boarded a one-way flight to Sydney.
By the time Dante listens to that tape and realizes he married a monster, I will be thousands of miles away, never to return.
9.0
Once a pampered princess, Alaina now clutched a deactivated American Express card, staring out at Central Park. Her family’s fortune was gone, her life, over.
Her family's Hamptons estate, a four-generation legacy, was seized by Dyer Capital. The name hit her: Hardin Dyer, the poor boy she’d once scorned, had returned.
Hardin marched in, serving a divorce agreement. He'd orchestrated her family's downfall for revenge, giving her 24 hours to vacate his property. Penniless, her father faced prison, needing $50 million. Her mother forced her to beg Hardin, who sneered, offering the money for her body. Alaina ripped up the contract.
Hours later, her father had a heart attack. Desperate, she became "Lexi," a club girl enduring humiliation. In the Viper Room, Hardin's lackeys demanded she lick whiskey off his shoe for $10,000. Hardin watched. Outside, her brother Ashton's hand was threatened for a $3 million debt. Spirit shattered, Alaina returned, knelt on broken glass, offering to sign. But Hardin declared her family "dead," offering $10 million for her body, commanding her to use her mouth.
In a furious act of defiance, Alaina threw whiskey in his face, snatched the check, and fled. Yet, when he finally took her, a searing, foreign pain and blood on the sheets revealed a shocking truth: he had never touched her three years ago. Why had he let her believe such a monstrous lie?
8.6
Today was my father's grand second wedding, but for me, it was the anniversary of my mother's death.
My new stepmother, Marley, who was only four years older than me, cornered me. To establish her dominance as the new Luna, she ordered her servants to force me to my knees and violently ripped my late mother's necklace from my neck.
It was the only memento my mother had left me. Marley sneered, threw it to the ground, and shattered the gems. When I scrambled to pick up the broken pieces, she dug her high-heeled shoe into the back of my hand, mocking me as dirty trash. No one stepped in to help. My father was too busy celebrating his new marriage under the dazzling lights, completely erasing my mother's memory and leaving me to be abused in my own pack.
My heart was full of grievance and despair. Why did my mother's lifelong devotion end with her grave desolate and her daughter humiliated? I swore I would never become a weak, discarded she-wolf whose life depended on a man.
Desperate to escape the suffocating wedding, I ran outside and stumbled right into the chest of a terrifying stranger.
"No one should ever touch what is precious to you."
His golden eyes blazed with fury as sparks instantly shot through my veins. He was Kade Blackwood, the ruthless Alpha of the feared Blood Moon Pack—and my fated mate.
9.5
One night, I was a girl seeking vengeance in a velvet mask. He was the stranger who took me against a cold stone wall, his touch a silent, lethal promise.
Now, he is Caspian Blackwood-the most feared architecture professor at Aethelgard. When my "perfect" boyfriend, Dominic Calloway, cheats on me and sabotages my degree, Caspian offers a lifeline with a razor-thin edge: Be his silent, nude model for thirty days.
The rules are absolute. I must wear a silk mask and a weighted collar. I must never speak. I must hold the poses he demands until my muscles scream for mercy. In the lecture hall, he ignores me with arctic indifference. In the studio, his gaze is a physical weight, stripping me faster than his hands ever could. But as the charcoal scratches against the paper, I realize the "deal" isn't just for art. It's for the soul I accidentally gave him in the dark. Will the deal destroy his career, or consume me first?