When My Boyfriend Turned Me into a Game for His Friends

I arrived at Hayes's apartment twenty minutes early, balancing his favorite Thai takeout in one hand and my keys in the other. The doorman nodded at me with familiar recognition as I stepped into the elevator. Five years of dating had made me practically a resident here. "Surprise," I whispered to myself, checking my reflection in the polished elevator doors. I'd taken extra care with my appearance today—Hayes had been distant lately, and I wanted to remind him why he'd fallen for me in the first place. The apartment was quiet when I entered. "Hayes?" I called out, setting the food on the kitchen counter. No response. "He must be running late," I murmured, noticing his iPad on the coffee table. A notification lit up the screen: "The Game: New Message." I shouldn't look.

Chapters

Chapter 3

I studied my gym's schedule carefully before heading to my usual Tuesday afternoon session. According to the information I'd gathered from the group chat, Marcus Chen—one of Hayes's closest friends and an active participant in the bet—always worked out between 2 and 4 PM on Tuesdays.

"He'll be there," I texted Nikolai as I changed into my workout clothes.

"Already on my way," came his immediate reply.

I'd been training for a triathlon before discovering Hayes's betrayal, and I'd kept up my routine since then. Today, though, I had a different goal in mind.

I was on the bench press when Nikolai walked in, his presence commanding immediate attention. Several women glanced his way, whispering behind their hands. I pretended not to notice him, focusing instead on my form as I lifted the weights.

"Your technique is all wrong," a deep voice said from behind me.

I turned to find Nikolai standing there, his expression concerned but his eyes gleaming with something else entirely.

"I've been doing this for years," I replied, loud enough for nearby members to hear.

"Doesn't mean you're doing it right." He stepped closer, his cologne—that now-familiar scent of sandalwood and pine—enveloping me. "May I?"

I nodded, and he stepped behind me, his hands finding my waist. "Your core isn't engaged," he murmured, his lips close to my ear. "Let me show you."

His hands guided my movements, lingering longer than necessary as he adjusted my position. I felt the heat rising to my cheeks—partly from the workout, partly from his touch.

"That's better," he said, his voice low and intimate. "Much better."

From the corner of my eye, I spotted Marcus watching from the free weights section, his expression a mixture of shock and disbelief. His phone was already in his hand, fingers flying across the screen.

"Is that—?" I started to ask.

"Don't worry about him," Nikolai said, his hand still resting on my hip. "He's exactly where we want him."

---

The charity gala glittered with wealth and privilege. Hayes had insisted I wear a particular dress—"something that shows you're with me," he'd said, though his eyes had barely registered my presence all evening.

He'd been at the bar with his friends for the past hour, leaving me to make small talk with acquaintances. I felt like an accessory rather than a partner.

"Aurora Davis," a voice called from behind me. "What a surprise."

I turned to find Nikolai in a perfectly tailored tuxedo, looking like he belonged on a magazine cover.

"Nikolai," I said, feeling Hayes's eyes on us from across the room. "I didn't know you'd be here."

"As a major donor, I couldn't miss it." He extended his hand. "Would you honor me with a dance?"

Before I could respond, he'd already led me to the dance floor. The orchestra began playing a tango, and Nikolai pulled me close.

"Your boyfriend seems distracted tonight," he murmured as we moved together.

"He's been busy," I replied, matching his steps perfectly.

Nikolai's hand pressed against the small of my back, guiding me through a spin that brought me back against his chest. "Not too busy to notice us," he said, his breath warm against my ear.

I glanced toward the bar and caught Hayes's gaze. His face was tight with anger, while Macie whispered something in his ear, her hand possessively gripping his arm.

"They're watching," I said, a thrill running through me.

"Let them," Nikolai replied, pulling me into another spin. "This is just the beginning."

---

The night air was cool against my skin as Nikolai and I left the gala. My heart raced with adrenaline and something more dangerous.

"Come home with me," I said impulsively.

His eyes darkened. "Are you sure?"

"I've never been more certain."

My apartment felt different with Nikolai in it—smaller somehow, yet infinitely more intimate. The pretense of our arrangement seemed to fall away as soon as the door closed behind us.

"This isn't part of the plan," he said, his voice rough with desire.

"Maybe the plan changed," I replied, stepping closer to him.

When his lips found mine, it wasn't like anything I'd experienced with Hayes. There was reverence in his touch, as if I were something precious rather than a conquest.

Hours later, wrapped in my sheets with Nikolai's arms around me, I finally understood the difference. Hayes had always made love to my body while ignoring my soul. Nikolai had worshipped both.

"This changes everything," I whispered against his chest.

"Does it?" he asked, his fingers tracing patterns on my bare shoulder.

I thought about Hayes, about the bet, about my carefully constructed revenge plan. None of it seemed to matter anymore.

"Yes," I said finally. "This is no longer just a game."

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For three years, Annika Price believed she was married to a struggling man who had lost everything. She worked herself to exhaustion to support him—taking multiple jobs, giving up her dreams, and loving him with a devotion he never returned. Then she discovers the truth. “Everest Kennedy” was never poor. Never powerless. Never even truly her husband. Behind the fake marriage certificate hides one of the wealthiest and most ruthless billionaires in the country—a man who approached her under a false identity for reasons far crueler than she could have imagined. While Annika sacrificed everything for love, Everest and his elite circle watched her suffer like it was part of a game. Humiliated, heartbroken, and carrying a secret pregnancy he refuses to accept, Annika walks away determined to reclaim her dignity. But Everest, a man used to controlling everything, is suddenly unable to let her go. What begins as revenge spirals into obsession. And when the truth behind their marriage finally unravels, Everest must face the one thing money and power can never buy back: The woman he destroyed with his own hands.

Billionaire Modern Romance

8.0

Fake Divorce, Real Retribution

8.0

The American Express alert chimed on my phone at exactly 2:47 PM, interrupting my review of quarterly investment reports. I glanced at the notification with the casual indifference of someone accustomed to substantial charges—until I saw the amount. Six thousand dollars. Hermès Beverly Hills. I set down my Mont Blanc pen, the burgundy leather of my home office chair creaking as I leaned back. Six thousand dollars wasn't unusual for our household expenses, but something about this particular charge felt off. Tanner typically consulted me about major purchases, a courtesy born from years of managing our combined finances with military precision. I opened the detailed statement on my laptop, my manicured fingers clicking across the keyboard with practiced efficiency. The transaction details populated: one limited-edition children's backpack, custom monogrammed, purchased for immediate delivery to the Shaw residence on Maple Drive. Atlas and Eliana's address.

Billionaire Modern Romance

8.2

My Husband Saved Her Cat While My Father Bled to Death

8.2

The smell hit me first. Candles. Lilies. Something underneath it all — sweet and wrong, the way a room smells when it's trying too hard to hide something dead. St. Augustine's was packed. Every pew filled, every face turned toward the front of the nave where Julien Herrera lay in a mahogany casket lined with white satin. The priest was still speaking. I couldn't hear the words. All I could hear was my own breathing and the low, steady pressure of Clyde's hand on my back, steering me down the center aisle like I was luggage.

Modern Mystery Romance

9.2

The Billionaire's Secret Heir: Sign the Divorce

9.2

I spent three years as the perfect, silent wife to billionaire Ezequiel Sanford, enduring a marriage colder than the marble floors of our Manhattan mansion. The day I finally saw two pink lines on a pregnancy test was the same day my world burned down. I found Ezequiel at the hospital, but he wasn't there for me. He was cradling his ex-girlfriend, Alexa, with a gentleness he had never shown me, while my own father was being rushed into the ICU after a suicide attempt triggered by our family's bankruptcy. Instead of comfort, Ezequiel handed me divorce papers. He had checked a box that read "No Issue of Marriage," effectively erasing any claim I had to his legacy. He blackmailed me, promising to save my father’s company only if I signed away every cent of alimony and walked away with nothing. When Alexa called him claiming an emergency, Ezequiel shoved me aside so violently I hit the sharp corner of his glass desk. As I collapsed to the floor, clutching my abdomen in sudden, searing pain, he didn't even look back. "Stop acting," he sneered, his voice dripping with disgust. "It’s pathetic. I will never love you, Claudia, no matter how many times you fall down." He walked out to be with her, leaving me bleeding on his office carpet with the secret he had spent years trying to avoid. He thought I was a gold-digger faking a crisis, never realizing I was actually carrying the Sanford heir he claimed didn't exist. Now, I’m hiding in a private clinic while my husband’s security team scours the city for me. My childhood friend just handed me a one-way ticket to Paris and a chance to restart the medical career I sacrificed for a lie. The money just hit my father's account. I’m signing the papers and disappearing. By the time Ezequiel realizes what he’s lost, I’ll be a world away, and he’ll never even know my child’s name.

Billionaire Modern Romance

7.1

The Billionaire's Shadow Wife

7.1

To the world, Nayla was the picture of perfection. But behind her elegant smile lay a wound that cut deeper than anyone could imagine. Her world shattered in a single night when she discovered her husband's betrayal with the one woman she trusted most-her own best friend. Instead of drowning in tears, Nayla chose a different path: she walked away without looking back. She wasn't running; she was reclaiming the dignity that had been trampled upon. Destiny led her to Arzlan Dirgantara, a young, handsome, and cold-hearted CEO who lived his life without a single flaw in the public eye. Unbeknownst to her, Arzlan had been captivated by Nayla since the moment their paths first crossed-and he was a man who never played games. Arzlan offered Nayla something extraordinary: A love contract with a shocking condition. At first, it was nothing more than a cold business arrangement. But as time passed, the walls they built around their hearts began to crumble. The clinical agreement slowly transformed into a flame that turned their lives upside down. Caught between the scars of her past and a blossoming new love, Nayla must make a choice: Will she return to the past that destroyed her, or embrace a future with a man willing to kneel for her happiness?

Billionaire Modern Romance

8.3

The Jilted Mafia Heiress Takes It All

8.3

I stood at the altar of St. Patrick's Cathedral, the daughter of New York’s most feared Don, ready to lower myself to marry a common soldier. Then, a toddler in the front pew shrieked, "Daddy." Liam didn't squeeze my hand for reassurance. He dropped it like it was a branding iron. In front of five hundred of the criminal elite, he ran down the aisle, scooping up his secret child and the mistress who had been blackmailing him. He left me standing there, humiliated and alone. Three months later, the "Jilted Princess" title still clung to me. Yet, Liam had the audacity to bring her to my father's birthday gala. Sarah, wearing a dress far too tight and a smug smile, cornered me in the middle of the ballroom. She wanted to twist the knife. "He hates you, you know," she screamed, loud enough for the Dons and Capos to hear. "He says sleeping with you was like sleeping with a statue. He chose real love! He chose a family!" The room went deathly silent. Liam looked at me with pity, thinking he had won. He thought I was broken. He thought I was alone. I took a slow sip of my champagne and set the glass down. "I am not alone, Sarah," I said calmly. I turned toward the shadows near the entrance. "Ethan?" I called out. The crowd parted instantly for the scarred, lethal man who stepped forward—The Ghost of Chicago, the most feared Underboss in Europe. He walked over and wrapped a heavy, possessive arm around my waist. "I’d like you to meet my husband," I told a horrified Liam. "And our daughter is waiting upstairs."

Billionaire Mafia Modern

When My Boyfriend Turned Me into a Game for His Friends

Chapter 3

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