Wrong Room: Sleeping With My Fiancé's Uncle

To revenge herself on her unfaithful fiancé Kevin, Isidora hides her striking beauty behind a plain disguise, and targets his uncle - the most formidable man Kevin fears. After one reckless night, Isidora leaves cash as payment and says lightly, "You were good last night." She tries to leave quietly, but is pulled into his arms. "You think you can walk away after this?" he says, his tone low and possessive. Cedrick is a feared, untouchable titan on Wall Street - elegant, aloof, and completely uninterested in women. Not even the most beautiful socialites in the city can catch his eye. When gossip spreads that he was seen pressing a woman against a wall and kissing her fiercely, no one believes it. When the rumors name Isidora, the crowd scoffs. He rejects even the most beautiful women, so why would he notice a plain girl like her? All doubt disappears when they see the dignified Cedrick drop to one knee to help Isidora with her shoe, pleading softly for just one kiss. When Kevin finally sees Isidora's true beauty and begs for forgiveness. But Cedrick kicks him out at once, slams a marriage certificate on the table, and says sharply. "Call her Aunt."

Chapters

Chapter 2

Isidora sat in the back of the Lincoln Navigator parked outside The Pierre hotel.

She stared into the sun visor mirror. Her fingers were numb as she applied the third layer of dark, cakey foundation to her cheeks.

She glued the fake freckles back onto her nose. She shoved the heavy, black-rimmed glasses onto her face.

The breathtaking woman from the hotel room was gone. The ugly, pathetic Wyatt heiress was back.

She pulled the collar of her Victorian-style dress higher. The fabric scratched her skin, but it was necessary to hide the dark, violent bruises the stranger had sucked into her neck last night.

Isidora pushed the car door open and stepped onto the red carpet.

Camera flashes exploded in her face. From the corner of her eye, she saw a group of socialites pointing at her.

"Look at her," one of them whispered loudly. "She looks like a moldy nun. How is Kevin Garrison marrying that?"

Isidora kept her head down. She let the insults bounce off her armor. She walked into the grand ballroom, her eyes fixed on the marble floor.

Her father, Arsenio Wyatt, marched up to her. He didn't say hello. He grabbed her arm, his fingers digging into her flesh.

"Keep your mouth shut tonight," Arsenio hissed in her ear. "If you ruin this trust fund merger with the Garrisons, I will make you regret being born."

Isidora nodded slowly, pulling her arm free.

She scanned the room, looking for Kevin. She needed to know if he had the nerve to bring Chantelle to their official engagement dinner.

Suddenly, the loud chatter in the ballroom died. The live orchestra stopped playing mid-note.

Hyman Garrison, Kevin's father and the current chairman, was practically sprinting toward the grand entrance. Sweat dripped down his forehead.

Heavy, deliberate footsteps echoed across the marble floor. Each step sounded like a gavel striking wood.

The crowd of Wall Street elites parted like the Red Sea. They pressed themselves against the tables, terrified to block the path.

Hyman grabbed the microphone, his hands shaking visibly.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Hyman stammered. "Please welcome the true head of the Garrison family, returning from Los Angeles... Mr. Cedrick Garrison."

The name sent a physical shockwave through the room. People gasped. Cedrick was the exiled billionaire, the ruthless hedge fund predator who ate companies for breakfast.

Isidora slowly lifted her head. She pushed her ugly glasses up the bridge of her nose and looked toward the entrance.

The moment her eyes landed on the man surrounded by bodyguards, the blood drained from her face.

Her heart slammed against her ribs so hard she thought they would crack.

The razor-sharp jawline. The cold, dead eyes. The terrifying, suffocating aura of power.

It was him. The man from the hotel room. The man she had left a thousand dollars for on the nightstand.

Isidora couldn't breathe. Her lungs refused to expand. She took a frantic step backward, trying to hide behind a tall floral arrangement.

Her heel caught the edge of a socialite's silk gown.

"Watch it, you freak!" the woman shrieked, shoving Isidora hard in the chest.

Isidora stumbled backward. Her hip crashed into the corner of the champagne tower table.

Several crystal glasses tipped over, shattering against the marble floor. The sharp sound echoed like a gunshot in the dead-silent ballroom.

Cedrick stopped walking.

His head snapped toward the corner. His cold, predatory gaze locked onto the source of the noise.

Isidora immediately dropped her chin to her chest. She let her messy hair fall forward, praying the thick glasses and the ugly makeup would work.

Cedrick's eyes swept over her disastrous outfit. A flicker of deep disgust crossed his face. He began to turn his head away.

But then, a draft from the open ballroom doors swept through the room.

It carried a scent.

Cedrick's nostrils flared. His entire body went rigid.

It was a faint trace of iris. A scent that inexplicably smoothed the jagged edges of his chronic insomnia for a fleeting second. It was an anomaly that irritated his hyper-vigilant instincts. Why would this pathetic, heavily made-up creature carry a scent that demanded his attention?

Cedrick didn't walk toward the main table. He pivoted on his heel and walked straight toward the dark corner.

The crowd held their breath. Isidora's fingers dug into the fabric of her skirt. Her palms were sweating.

Cedrick stopped less than two feet away from her. His massive frame blocked out the light.

Hyman rushed over, laughing nervously. "Cedrick, please excuse the mess. This is Kevin's fiancée, Isidora Wyatt."

Cedrick's eyes darkened at the word fiancée.

He looked down at her. His gaze slowly dragged from her fake freckles down to the high collar of her dress.

Right at the edge of the collar, the thick layers of concealer were caked unevenly, a desperate attempt to hide her own natural pallor.

Cedrick let out a low, dark chuckle that made the hair on the back of Isidora's neck stand up.

He leaned in, his lips inches from her ear.

"Miss Wyatt," Cedrick whispered, his voice dripping with lethal intent. "The perfume you chose smells as good as the woman in the hotel room last night."

Continue to next part

On the night of their third wedding anniversary, Ashley was ready to reveal a secret to her husband- She was pregnant. But moments after their passionate intimacy, her Alpha coldly delivered the blow-he wanted a divorce. His fated mate had returned. Stripped of her wolf spirit, abandoned by the pack, and carrying his child, Ashley was cast aside like a disposable Omega. Just as she prepared to leave alone- The boy she had once rejected had now risen as the most formidable Alpha King. The possessive hunger in his gaze sent shivers through her-did she dare face him? Was this vengeance, or something more? But did she even have a choice?

Action Romance Werewolf

8.2

Betrayed By Love: The Genius's Revenge

8.2

For three years, nineteen-year-old Ella Campbell rotted in a freezing psychiatric isolation room. Her billionaire family didn't visit her once, only pulling her out today to force her to publicly apologize to Ashlyn, the perfect sister who had framed her. At Ashlyn's glamorous engagement gala, Ella was treated worse than a stray dog and forced to watch her childhood sweetheart propose to her sister. When Ella showed no jealousy, her brother Ivan dragged her onto a dark balcony and nearly choked her to death. Her mother didn't even check if Ella was breathing, merely ordering a makeup artist to paint thick concealer over the dark purple handprints on Ella's neck so the family's stock price wouldn't drop. Standing under the blinding stage lights in a shapeless gray dress, facing three hundred mocking Wall Street executives, Ella was supposed to be the broken, obedient psycho the Campbells needed. "I am deeply sorry for the pain I caused." She was supposed to end the apology there and bow to her abusers, but Ella didn't shed a single tear. "My only regret is that I didn't insist on waiting for the police to arrive that night. I deeply regret that I didn't demand a full, legal toxicology report to prove to everyone exactly what happened." As the ballroom erupted into suspicious whispers and her paralyzed twin brother finally saw the violent bruises hidden beneath her makeup, Ella's counterattack against the Campbell family officially began.

Action Modern Romance

9.3

Flash Marriage To My Disabled Commander

9.3

Six years ago, my adoptive family framed me for commercial espionage, stripped me of my identity, and threw me out. Now, I finally returned to the Solis estate as a commercial pilot to take back what was mine. But the first thing my adoptive mother did was threaten me with that forged evidence again. She demanded I take my sister Kiana's place in a marriage contract with a disabled man, simply because Kiana refused to marry him. When I refused, Kiana ambushed me at the airport with a mob of reporters. She cried for the cameras, publicly accusing me of causing our father's and brother's deaths. She painted me as a ruthless monster who bankrupted the company and ruined the family. The crowd instantly turned on me, screaming that I was a murderer and a gold-digger. Kiana wanted to completely destroy my reputation so I would have no choice but to submit to her arrangement. I looked at her fake tears, feeling a cold, absolute fury. How dare she use the tragic deaths of the only family members who actually loved me as a prop for her sick show? They had ruined my life once, and now they wanted to bury me alive. I didn't hesitate. I slapped her hard across the face right in front of the flashing cameras. "That was for my father and brother." Then, my real fiancé, a decorated Delta Force commander, rolled through the crowd in his wheelchair. He tossed a classified Pentagon file to the reporters, completely clearing my name and exposing Kiana's lies. I married him to start my revenge, but as I stepped into his heavily secured penthouse that night, I realized my powerful new husband had been preparing for me for a very long time.

Action Modern Romance

9.1

Fury of Betrayal

9.1

She had loved him. Truly. Foolishly. And he had used her. For her blood. For her silence. For her sacrifice. She didn’t cry. Not even when the fire died and the cold crept in. Instead, she whispered to the night: > “I will not die here. I will not be forgotten.” The rogue wolves found her on the third day. There were five of them—scarred, savage, and hungry. They circled her like vultures, sniffing her fear. “You smell like pack,” one growled. “I was,” she replied. “Then you’re meat.” She didn’t run. She didn’t beg. She stood. And something inside her snapped. Not like a bone. Like a chain. Her blood surged. Her eyes burned. Her skin shimmered with heat. The wolves lunged. She screamed. But it wasn’t a scream. It was a howl. A howl that split the sky. The wolves froze. One whimpered. Another backed away. Zariah didn’t shift. She transformed. Her body glowed with crimson light. Her voice echoed with ancient power. The wolves bowed. She didn’t understand it. Not yet. But she felt it. She was no longer prey. She was something else. Something forgotten. Something feared. She spent the next weeks learning. Hunting. Listening. The rogue wolves taught her how to survive. But they also feared her. They called her “Crimson.” They whispered that she was cursed. That her blood was not of this age. She didn’t care. She trained. She healed. She grew. And one night, under a blood moon, she stood atop the ridge and made a vow: > “I will return. Not for love. Not for forgiveness. But for reckoning.” Her. “You should’ve stayed dead,” he said, voice low. She turned to him, lips curling into a smile. “I came back to bury the living.” His jaw tightened. “You don’t know what you’re walking into.” “I know exactly what I’m walking into,” she said. “And I’m not walking. I’m hunting.” --- The Trials began at dawn. The first challenge was physical—an obstacle course designed to test speed, strength, and endurance. Wolves shifted mid-run, leaping over fire pits, scaling stone walls, diving through enchanted fog. Zariah didn’t shift. She ran in human form, her cloak billowing behind her like wings. She didn’t win. But she didn’t lose. She finished in the top five. Kael noticed her then. His eyes narrowed. His nostrils flared. He didn’t recognize her. Not yet. But he felt something. Liora whispered in his ear. He nodded. Zariah kept walking.

Action Fantasy Werewolf

7.5

Heiress Betrayed: My Sweet Revenge Wedding

7.5

For seven years, I hid my identity as a wealthy heiress to be with my boyfriend, Ewing. I followed him across the country and made myself small so he could feel big. On Thanksgiving, he ditched our celebration for his first love, Bree, who supposedly had a "burst pipe." Later, she posted an intimate selfie with him, calling him her "hero." Then she sent me a video of him at a bar, laughing with his friends. "She's just being dramatic," he slurred, smirking at the camera. "A new necklace and she'll forget all about it. She's easy." Easy. Seven years of my life, my love, my sacrifice-all reduced to that one word. I realized I was never his partner. I was just a placeholder. I didn't cry. I packed my bags, booked a one-way flight to New York, and sent him one final text before blocking his number. "Don't bother coming home. I'm getting married."

Action Billionaire Romance

9.5

Love has its end, and there is no return date

9.5

The Serene Chants Temple hummed with sutras and clamored with a crowd. Kneeling on a prayer mat before the Buddha, Madison prayed with profound depth. *I, Madison, vow to journey to the sacred land, to guard the holy mountain, and never again to set foot beyond the Tibetan Plateau.* Walter observed her humble attire. *The Sacred Peak of Zagrama is humanity’s last pure land. To set foot there requires abandoning all attachments—renouncing every earthly passion and tie.* Though her eyelids fluttered, her gaze held a serenity born of utter detachment. *In this life, I will not marry, I will not bear children. I am willing to lay down my attachments and take monastic vows!* Pity filled his eyes. *The air on the holy mountain is thin, the cold perpetual, the conditions harsh beyond measure. Once you enter, you must guard the sacred land until your life’s end.* *Madison, are you certain?* She nodded solemnly. *I am willing to guard the sacred land for a lifetime. Until my very last breath!* Seeing her resolve was firm, Walter did not dissuade her further. *Fast and purify for three days; bathe and burn incense. Then, I will have the local Tibetans escort you into the holy mountain.* The Sacred Peak of Zagrama was a Buddhist sanctuary, forbidden to outsiders. To go and guard it meant complete isolation from the world. She and Louis would never see each other again. … Madison had lost both parents in her youth, growing up instead within the walls of Serene Chants Temple. When she was five, her parents had taken her up the mountain to pay respects to the Buddha—only to encounter enemies bent on revenge. Murdered by the villains, they left her hiding beneath a statue, where she narrowly escaped. Walter, seeing her alone and helpless, had taken her in. The year she turned eighteen, Madison met Louis and fell for him at first sight. He had fled to the Tibetan Plateau to escape an arranged business marriage, entering religious life as his refuge. One night, Madison pushed open the door to the meditation chamber. Louis sat on a prayer cushion, his fingers turning a sandalwood rosary, sacred verses whispering from his lips. His glacial detachment, the rigid control in his posture—it all kindled a reckless hunger in her. Summoning her courage, she settled herself astride his lap, her pale, jade-like fingers gripping his chin. Her red dress, thin as cicada wings, hinted at the alluring curves beneath. After a lifetime of obedience, she suddenly wanted to break the rules, just this once. "Mr. Louis, your worldly ties are not yet severed. Reciting sutras won’t bring you peace!" His expression remained cold and remote as a mountain glacier, a silent warning. His gaze darkened. "This is a sacred place. You’re defiling it. Have you no shame?" Madison leaned forward, her graceful curves on display as she wrapped herself around his waist with a reckless new allure. "People have emotions and desires, joy and sorrow. Why should that be shameful?" She was eighteen, every fantasy amplified by a lifetime behind temple walls. Having grown up there, she had always yearned for the world outside. Not a ripple of emotion crossed Louis’s face; his eyes stayed utterly still. Madison pressed on, her voice a low murmur. "You don’t want to be a sacrifice to a business marriage. You don’t want to strain family ties, so you choose to run away." "Only a coward runs. The strong face adversity—they hold their own fate." He had fled to this pure sanctuary, thinking he could escape the mundane world. Then his lips found her ear, his warm breath on her skin, and everything spiraled out of control. Candlelight shuddered against the walls. The very room seemed to tremble with the heat they generated.

Action Modern Romance

Wrong Room: Sleeping With My Fiancé's Uncle

Chapter 2

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