Wrong From The Start
⚠️WARNING:
This book contains explicit sexual content, possessive and toxic male leads, manipulation, emotional abuse, and disturbing themes that may be triggering to some readers. This is nothing like healthy love.
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I loved Tyler Beaumont for twelve years. Years of hoping and waiting, believing that one day, he would finally choose me.
So when my parents told me I was being arranged to marry into his family... I thought it was fate. I thought I had won.
But I was wrong, because the man waiting for me at the altar isn't Tyler.
It's his brother, Grayson Beaumont.
The one I never heard of-the one with cold eyes, a cruel mouth, and a hatred for me sharp enough to bleed.
I don't know what I did to deserve it. I don't even remember.
But he does. He remembers everything. He didn't marry me for love. He married me for revenge.
And from the moment I became his wife, he made one thing clear-I would pay for a past I don't even remember.
"I tried to forget you," he tilted my chin, staring directly into my soul. "But watching you love him? That was the first time I understood what hatred really feels like."
And Tyler?
The man I spent twelve years loving? He won't let me go.
"I don't need you to choose me," he whispered. "I just need you to understand... no matter whose name you take, you will always be mine."
Two brothers.
One filled with hatred.
The other with obsession.
And me?
Caught between a past I can't remember...and a truth that could destroy us all. Because somewhere between lies, desire, and betrayal, I realize the most dangerous thing of all:
I was never meant to love the right brother.
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Chapter 3
" Holy shit! You look like a mess, Tess." Another intern, Miles said the moment he saw her. " What on earth happened to you?"
He asked worriedly, quickly taking the coffee from her. Everyone's eyes were now fixed on her, some with concern while some with mockery as they giggled over her ruined shirt and the way she was limping.
" Long story, Miles. Believe me, this day is a bad luck day." She whispered, her cheeks reddened in embarrassment.
She cracked a tiny smile of gratitude at Miles as he helped her hand over the coffees to each person.
" But seriously, you need to change that shirt, it's a mess."
" I know, but I don't have any other one here." She murmured, her shoulders slumping as she hung her head low.
How is she supposed to face Tyler with her looking like this? If he sees her like this, he'd definitely laugh and say ' she's messy like always'.
Tears filled her eyes. She was supposed to impress him, not make him laugh at her.
' This must be it, the reason why he never looked my way, the reason why he doesn't love me and that's because.. I just can't seem to do anything right.'
She sniffled and quickly wiped her eyes before anyone would notice or catch sight of her crying.
Just then, someone announced. " Everybody, the boss is here!"
Her heart jumped.
Her head snapped up.
It wasn't only her head that instantly went into chaos, but also the office. Everyone immediately began arranging themselves and their desks, making sure they looked at their absolute best.
" Oh no! I should get away! He can't see me like this." Tessa immediately stood up, with her chest racing, she turned to quickly get out of the office but just then, someone walked in along with two other executives.
She didn't wait to see their faces before she turned instantly.
' Tyler.' she whispered in her mind.
Her body stood frozen along with the office that suddenly became a graveyard.
Miles saw her shaking slightly on the spot and tried to cover her by standing in front of her.
" Good morning, sir." The greetings echoed.
Tessa closed her eyes in self-disappointment. How she wished to see him standing there, so respected and feared by everyone.
Even his presence feels different. The room was instantly swallowed by his aura the moment he stepped in making her feel even more nervous.
" Hey, you!"
Tessa heard a slightly familiar deep, rigid voice filled with disdain. For some reason, it made her chest leap as it seemed to be directed at her.
" Orange shirt, black skirt." The voice called.
Trembling slightly, Tessa took another look at herself, then her head which suddenly felt heavy around her neck lifted up slowly to see all eyes on her.
" The boss is calling you," Miles whispered to her.
' The..the boss? That doesn't sound like Tyler.' Her brow furrowed, but her palms became sweaty, afraid Tyler would eventually see her like this.
She swallowed bitterly and slowly, she turned. Her eyes remained fixed to the ground, her eyes blinking countless times.
" I knew it was you." The voice said, forcing Tessa to look up and she instantly wished she hadn't.
Her jaw dropped to the ground.
Her shoulders lost their lives in an instant.
' He's.. he's the boss?' Her brow knitted deeply in shock.
[ " Are you blind?! / You disgusting, arrogant maggot, you spilled my coffee and you can't even say sorry? This company teaches manners but guess you left yours at home." ]
Memories of her own words flooded in without permission, widening her eyes in horror. ' I'm screwed.' she paled instantly.
He stepped closer to her, not hurriedly, not aggressively, just one step that made the air thin and caused her to instinctively drop her gaze.
Even though she wasn't looking at him, she could feel his piercing glare. She inhaled shakily, inhaling his manly cologne that was both mesmerizing and intimidating.
She could feel her legs wobble as he said in an exasperated tone.
" Arrogant maggot."
The word that now sounds like a mistake made her tremble.
He stopped right in front of her. Close enough that she could see the sharp line of his jaw when she finally forced herself to look up. His expression did not explode in anger. It didn't twist in outrage.
It hardened.
His eyes were dark, not wild, not offended, just coldly assessing, as though recalculating her value.
"Interesting," he said quietly.
Her throat tightened." I. I.." words failed her the moment she most needed them. "Please don't fire me," she found herself blurting out, pride cracking under fear.
A faint curve touched his lips, not warm, not amused. Calculating. "Of course not."
Her brows lifted in surprise as she did not expect him to agree not to fire her. Though confusion still tangled low in her chest as to why he's the boss, and not Tyler.
" I won't fire you." He continued smoothly, " but don't misunderstand," his gaze sharpened. " I'll make sure you beg to be fired."
The words weren't loud.
They didn't need to be.
They crawled under her skin and stayed there.
He then leaned slightly closer, just enough to invade her space without touching her.
"Tessa Monroe," he said, her name rolling off his tongue with unsettling familiarity. "Nice meeting you again."
Her breath hitched.' Wh-what?! How did he know my name?' Confusion tangled violently with fear in her chest as she stared at him.
Then he leaned back. "Let me teach you the manners that were forgotten at home."
He turned without another word and walked out.
And only then did the room seem to breathe again.
Tessa stood still, shaken and pale, lost at what to do.
"Tessa," Miles whispered urgently behind her. "You're supposed to follow him."
Her stomach dropped.
Right.
The executives were still standing there. Waiting.
With her chest racing and her leg still aching from the fall, she forced herself to move. Each step felt heavier than the last as she limped out of the office.
Whispers immediately erupted behind her.
" She's new here and already in trouble?"
" What did she do? The boss seems really pissed."
" I don't know," Miles replied to the people asking him.
" Well, she's screwed for sure." Another worker added.
Tessa kept limping till she turned the corner and saw him. He was standing by a door at the end of the hallway, hands tucked neatly into his pockets. His posture was relaxed, almost lazy yet there was nothing casual about him.
He wasn't looking at her, he was staring at the floor as if deep in thought.
If she wasn't terrified out of her mind, she would've admitted it, that he looked unreal. Tall. Composed. Untouchable.
His hair was perfectly combed, dark and sleek, his suit - different from the one she had stained earlier fit him like it was tailored by the gods themselves.
Greek lord.
That was the only comparison her mind could make, and that realization made her even angrier.
'Why is he acting like I committed a crime? I'm the one whose coffee he spilled, ruining my outfit. I'm still the one who got humiliated.' Her thoughts tangled as she limped closer. 'Tyler is the boss... he told me this company belongs to him, so.. Maybe this man is just an executive trying to scare me. He doesn't have the same power as Tyler so..'
He looked up just then. The movement was slow, intentional, halting her thoughts instantly with his glare.
"You can't even walk properly?" he said flatly, his gaze dropping briefly to her injured leg before returning to her face.
The irritation in his voice made her stomach clench.
'He sounds horrible,' she cursed inwardly. 'Unlike how he looks.'
She stopped a few steps away from him, unsure whether to stand straight or lower her head. He didn't wait for her to decide, without saying anything, he pushed the door open.
The hinges creaked.
The room beyond was dark and stale, thick with dust, old filing cabinets lined the walls, papers stacked carelessly in corners as though the place had been forgotten for years.
He stepped aside.
"Tidy up this place."
Her head snapped toward him. "What?!" Her eyes widened. "Alone?"
He blinked once, slowly as if her question bored him.
Her chest rose and fell faster. ' No way! How on earth am I supposed to clean this up by myself!' she quickly turned to him."This is impossible," she protested, shaking her head. "I can't do this by myself."
He said nothing.
" I.. I can't." She shook her head, " I am sorry for earlier." She continued, desperation creeping into her tone. " So sorry, I didn't know.. I was frustrated and.." she looked up just then to see him shooting her that cold, unmoved gaze.
' No matter what I say, or apologize, he'll still make me do this, right?' she thought inwardly and swallowed.
"If anything, I'll speak to the boss. Mr. Beaumont."
There it was.
The mistake.
His expression didn't change immediately but his jaw tightened. His eyes darkened not with anger but with something colder, something scarier.
"Too bad," he said quietly.
Her heart skipped.
"I am Grayson Beaumont."
The name landed like a hammer.
" The CEO of King's corporation."
Her body froze, her eyes went wide.' That's not possible, he can't be the CEO, what about Tyler, how is he a Beaumont when Tyler doesn't even have a brother?'
Her lungs for some seconds forgot how to work as he stepped closer, leaned forward, and added as his voice dropped an octave. " And I am your boss. Your worst nightmare."
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8.6
In my past life, the Cerberus strain leaked, turning the world into a blood-soaked hell of rotting flesh and mutated monsters.
I thought my boyfriend Declan and my best friend Hailee would have my back as we fled the quarantine zone.
Instead, when the surging crowd of the infected cornered us, they didn't hesitate.
They shoved me backward into the horde just to buy themselves three seconds to run.
As I fell into the mud, I saw them fleeing without a single backward glance.
"She's dead weight anyway!" Hailee screamed.
"Just keep running, she'll distract them!" Declan yelled back.
I was torn apart, feeling the agonizing tear of rotting teeth sinking into my neck and the hot spray of my own blood.
Before the apocalypse, my greedy uncle had locked away my ten-million-dollar trust fund, leaving me with nothing but a fake boyfriend who only wanted me for my money.
Until my last breath, I couldn't understand how the people I loved most could trade my life for a head start.
Why did I blindly trust them? Why didn't I see through their perfectly choreographed lies?
Opening my eyes again, the stench of decaying flesh vanished, replaced by the sterile smell of my college dorm room.
Hailee and Declan were standing over my bed, faking tears of concern over my meningitis fever.
I was back exactly seven days before the world ended, and my spatial vault ability had come back with me.
This time, I'm extorting my uncle for every cent, hoarding the city's supplies, and leaving them all to rot.
9.1
Waking up with a cold, scaly hand wrapped around my throat wasn't the worst part.
The worst part was realizing I'd transmigrated into the body of Terra Mason—the most despised woman in the entire Enclave. She drugged high-level beast-men and forced them into life-binding bio-contracts. She locked an aquatic warrior in a dry basement until his organs failed. She treated the most lethal males in the city like broken toys.
Zev, the Level 6 serpent who's currently choking me, would rather blow up his own heart than spend another day as my slave. His affection metric? Negative ninety. His trust? Zero.
Then my system activates: the Kore AI. It gives me exactly 500 credits, a medical nano-gel, and a recipe for neutralizing the radioactive poison in mutant meat. Real food. In this world, that's worth more than gold.
I save Rhys, the dying aquatic male everyone left for dead. I season a slab of purple mutant steak until Sam, a battle-scarred grizzly shifter, groans at the taste—and his trust points finally tick above zero. When my backstabbing ex-best friend tries to steal my males and destroy me, I don't scream or throw a tantrum like the old Terra. I dismantle her with the truth.
But earning their trust means more than grilling meat. A scorpion swarm ambushes us at midnight. Sam throws himself between me and a stinger the size of my arm. As he stands over the corpse, fur receding from his claws, he stares at me and whispers, "You were testing me."
Yes. I was. Because in this world, the weak don't survive. And I refuse to be weak again.
Four beast-men. Four contracts. One system. And a whole lot of steak. Let this dystopian wasteland know—I'm not the monster they remember. I'm worse. I'm the one who's going to feed them until they'd kill for me.
9.3
She sells flowers. He spills blood. And he will stop at nothing to make her his. Elena Rossi has always lived quietly among roses and lilies, dreaming of love as gentle as the petals she arranges. She thought she found it in Daniel, the man she planned to marry. Until her wedding day when a dangerous stranger walked into the church and shattered everything. Adrian Volkov is a king in the underworld, a man feared for his ruthlessness and power. But to him, Elena is not just a prize. She is an obsession. A storm he cannot live without. And he will burn the world and anyone in it, to claim her. Torn from the life she knew, Elena resists him, manipulates him, and even runs from him. But Adrian is relentless. His love is dark, his touch both punishing and tender, and his obsession inescapable. When betrayal and bloodshed close in, Elena must face the truth: She doesn't just fear him. She doesn't just hate him. She loves him. Petals and Blood is a haunting, passionate tale of obsession, betrayal, and the dangerous kind of love that blooms in shadows.
8.6
I was the untouchable Mafia Queen, but my reign ended in the blood-soaked depths of a damp dungeon.
My half-sister, Kelsey, drove a rusted, sharpened spoon into my chest, screaming about the unfairness of fate.
In my past life, my father sold me to the ruthless Don Dante Blackwell as collateral to pay off his debts.
To survive, I took a black-market fertility drug, birthed his heir, and clawed my way to the throne through sheer ruthlessness.
But in the mafia world, a pregnant woman isn't a queen; she's a walking target.
I survived countless bombings and poisonings, only to be betrayed and slaughtered by my own family.
Until my last breath, I couldn't understand. I had sacrificed everything to secure our survival in the empire. Why did my blood and tears only earn me a rusted spoon to the heart?
Opening my eyes again, I am seventeen, sitting in my father's drawing room.
Two black velvet boxes sit on the mahogany table.
Kelsey greedily snatches the box containing the fertility drug, her eyes gleaming with feverish triumph.
"I'll take this one, Papa."
She thinks she is stealing my golden ticket to the crown, completely unaware that she just chose a death sentence.
I lower my gaze, letting my eyelashes mask the cold, lethal amusement pooling in my eyes as I take the remaining box.
Inside is the detailed psychological profile of the Don's dead fiancée.
This time, I won't be a breeding mare fighting off assassins. I will dissect the devil himself.
8.3
My husband watched as my skin melted, scalded by boiling soup, yet his hands were busy comforting my attacker. Five years of marriage, built on a foundation of my family's power, crumbled with a single, brutal act of betrayal. He bought me off with a penthouse and a trust fund, but I tore out my IV and threw his charity back in his face.
It was our fifth anniversary, but my husband, Ethan, remained distant, avoiding any talk of Chicago or the mafia protection my family once offered him. He then pushed a black velvet box across the table.
Inside was a Separation and Property Division Agreement, not a diamond. He told me to sign for Ilene's security, offering millions. When I refused, Ilene hurled boiling soup. Ethan shielded her, not me, as the scalding liquid melted my dress.
With second-degree burns, he blamed me, ordering me from our home for Ilene’s comfort. My family saved him, yet he sacrificed my body and marriage for another woman.
The love I felt turned to ash. What kind of debt demanded my flesh and marriage?
I ripped the IV from my arm, hurling his "charity" keys back. My diamond ring placed on the agreement, I walked away. From today on, Ethan, you and I are dead to each other.
7.5
I was the adopted daughter of the wealthy Ruiz family, but the moment their true heir appeared, I was thrown away like trash.
Not long after being kicked out, my adoptive father and uncle hired a hitman to stage a fatal car crash on Mulholland Drive.
Pinned under an overturned Porsche with a shattered leg, I watched the hitman point a suppressed pistol between my eyes.
"The Ruiz family sends their regards."
Before this, my reputation had already been completely destroyed by a director, a pop idol, and a reality TV star, leaving me blacklisted and universally hated.
My adoptive family didn't just want me ruined; they wanted me permanently silenced to tie up loose ends.
The hitman pulled the trigger, and the original Alicia died in despair, tasting only rain and blood.
Until her last breath, she didn't understand.
Why did the family she loved treat her like a disposable object? Why did those three men maliciously frame her and turn the world against her?
Opening my eyes again, the fear was gone, replaced by an ancient, cosmic indifference.
I, the Arbiter, had taken over this deceased vessel.
Moving faster than the human eye, I crushed the hitman's steel gun with my bare hand and turned his soul into dust.
Looking at the memories of those who wronged this girl, I signed a contract for the very reality show they were starring in.
Since I borrowed this body, taking out the trash is a required courtesy.