Evie Schoofs
13 Published Stories
Evie Schoofs's Books and Stories
"Bound By The Wrong Brother"
Billionaires My father gave me an ultimatum: marry a man I despise or lose my entire inheritance. I chose to run, boarding a private jet with no intention of looking back.
But his reach is absolute. The phone buzzed before we even left New York airspace.
"Send me a picture with Sterling now," his voice barked, "or I'm calling your pilot to turn that jet around."
I faked the photo and fled to Las Vegas, my last resort. My mission was simple: find my father's illegitimate son, the one secret that could break his hold over me.
My only lead was a grainy picture of a ruthless fixer, a man who cleaned up my father's messes. I found him in a desolate diner, a giant of a man surrounded by a wall of guards.
I gambled everything on a single coin toss for the information I needed. He saw right through my desperate bluff.
He leaned in close, his voice a low, gravelly rasp.
"In my city, the house always wins."
I was left standing there, humiliated and defeated. But as he turned to leave, he glanced over his shoulder.
"But you're lucky. Today, I'm just curious what Howard Bright's daughter is doing so far from home."
He had seen me not as a threat, but as a curiosity. I had lost the battle, but I wasn't done yet. I was no longer running. I was hunting. Shattered Vows, Unyielding Blood Vengeance
Modern For seven years, I poured my family's fortune into my husband Chris's company, Bell Dynamics. Then, his lover, Dr. Kimberli Luna, intentionally botched my father's routine surgery, leaving him on life support.
They locked me in the hospital room, a gilded cage, while Chris ignored my frantic calls. Kimberli appeared, a cruel smile on her lips, revealing a horrifying truth: every crisis in my life-my mother's death, a near-fatal car accident, even the miscarriage of what I thought was our baby-was orchestrated by them.
"He was with me every time," she sneered. "You were just an inconvenience."
They murdered my father by shutting off his life support right before my eyes, all because I refused to sign a waiver absolving Kimberli of her crime. Chris then had me committed, drained my blood for their future surrogacy plans, and annulled our marriage to marry her.
He thought he had erased me, broken me completely.
But he forgot about the prenuptial agreement my father insisted on. An agreement that left me with 25% of Bell Dynamics. Now, armed with my father's final gift, I will not mourn. I will avenge. My Montana Escape: A New Beginning
Modern The cool metal of the gurney is the last thing I'll remember. One more session, the doctor said, and the past ten years of my life will be wiped clean.
It all comes back to that night. I walked in to find my fiancé, Alex, kissing my half-sister, Kalie-the girl I raised since she was fifteen.
When I confronted them, Kalie shoved me. I hit my head on a steel model, bleeding on the floor of the studio we designed together. But Alex didn't rush to me. He rushed to comfort her.
She lied, painting me as the attacker. My best friend, my entire world, turned against me. Alex, my Alex, had me committed, signing the papers that subjected me to brutal, punitive electroshock treatments.
He wasn't just erasing my memory; he was erasing me, punishing me for a crime I didn't commit, all to protect her.
Now, waking from the final, consensual treatment, I find a note I left for myself. It's a plan. Sell the firm. Sell the house. Disappear to Montana. And this time, I won't just be erasing the memories. I'll be erasing them. A Bride's Ghostly Return
Romance I' m already dead. My spirit floated, watching my own fiancé, Ryan Sterling, marry my adoptive sister, Olivia Reed. It was a perfect wedding, the kind every girl dreams of, but it should have been mine.
Then, a delivery man walked in, holding a simple, unadorned box. "A delivery for Mr. Sterling," he said. "A wedding gift from Ava Miller." My name hung in the air, a foul smell. The room went silent.
Whispers started. "Ava Miller? That shameless girl? I heard she went wild overseas, sleeping around with anyone. Ryan was smart to dump her. She' s nothing but a slut." My adoptive parents put on a show of sadness, saying I' d chosen the wrong path and they no longer considered me their daughter. Olivia, my rival, suggested throwing the box away.
But Ryan, his face a cold mask, stopped her. He had worn that mask for months, ever since "those photos" were sent to him. He never asked for an explanation. He just publicly broke our engagement and announced his marriage to Olivia. Now, he looked at the box, with intense focus. "No," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "I want to see it."
The whole room held its breath. I thought he hated me, that he had betrayed me. But something in his eyes, something in his words, sparked a strange, cold hope in my ghostly heart. What would he find inside? What truth would be uncovered? Revenge Wears a Diamond Ring
Romance The heavy iron gate groaned open, releasing me after seven long years.
Dr. Evelyn Reed. Once a brilliant surgeon, now just an ex-con.
My husband, David, and our son, Ethan, were there, a beacon of hope in the sharp sunlight.
"Evelyn, you' re finally out. Welcome home," David whispered, holding me tight.
I thought their love was my lifeline, the one thing that kept me alive.
But in a dusty closet, an old voice recorder shattered that illusion.
"Dad, didn' t you set her up? Why didn' t you let her stay in jail longer? Seeing her makes Aunt Sarah unhappy." Ethan' s voice, then David' s, stern and unfamiliar. "She deserves everything she got!"
My blood ran cold. The evidence against me-medical malpractice, illegal human trials, organ trafficking-it had all been fabricated.
David, my own husband, had actively participated. My son, Ethan, had testified against me.
My adopted grandfather, dead. My biological parents, publicly disowning me for Sarah, the girl they raised in my place. My career, ruined. My life, a stepping stone for her.
The house, once a sanctuary, was a shrine to Sarah, filled with portraits of her painted by David and Ethan – a love and adoration they never showed me.
All their affections, all their promises, were a monstrous lie.
Overwhelmed, I stumbled upon a forgotten phone number-a promise made in the depths of my despair.
My hands shook as I dialed, a quiet whisper sealing my fate. "The time has come to fulfill that promise." The Woman I Didn't Marry
Modern The last thing I remembered was the hospice ceiling, stark and cracked, as I lay paralyzed, trapped, regretting forty years wasted on a woman who betrayed me and a daughter who wasn't even mine. My wife, Nicole, was probably with Matthew, as she always had been.
Then, a sudden, jarring jolt. My eyes snapped open, and I was eighteen again, back in my Cleveland bedroom, the phone buzzing with Nicole's vivacious voice inviting me to a party. This was the night it all began-the night I intervened, thinking I was saving her, only to become the consolation prize she resented for a lifetime.
A life where I' d put her first, sacrificed my dreams, and eventually died alone, a fool betrayed by the very person I' d sworn to protect. The pain of that forty-year sentence, the revelation that Gabrielle, the child I loved more than anything, was Matthew's, flooded me.
How could I have been so blind, so stupid? How could she have built our entire relationship on such a cruel, intricate lie? The humiliation, the rage, and the profound sorrow felt like a physical blow.
Not this time. This time, I hung up the phone, the sound a chime of liberation. I was alive, I was free, and Nicole Anderson would be nothing but a stranger. The Fiancée's Fatal Flaw
Romance Yesterday, she was my fiancée, the woman I thought I'd spend the rest of my life with.
Today, the day our future was supposed to begin, she called to tell me she had amnesia and didn't know who I was.
Then, she told me to meet her at the courthouse to annul our marriage license, threatening me with her father's lawyers.
I arrived to find her clinging to Caleb, her high school sweetheart, his arm possessively around her waist.
She looked at me with cold, empty eyes and declared me a stranger, even as Caleb smirked, confirming her "amnesia" was real, or maybe not.
The following days were a blur of humiliation: she kicked me out of our shared apartment, branding my life's work as "junk" while Caleb moved in, deliberately wearing my band's t-shirt.
But the final blow was her booking my studio for her elopement party with Caleb, forcing me to DJ and play the love song I wrote for her as their first dance.
I played my heart out, watching them sway, feeling every fiber of my being shatter, wondering how someone could inflict such calculated cruelty.
Why was she doing this to me, turning our sacred bond into a twisted public spectacle?
Little did she know, I had overheard her entire malicious game weeks ago, and my heartbreak was just the beginning of a cold, calculated plan of my own. The Intern Who Fought Back
Modern The Austin heat was brutal, but I worked 60-hour weeks as an intern at Chadwick' s Smokehouse, fueled by free brisket and the promise of a paycheck.
I desperately needed that money for my community college tuition and my brother' s medical bills back home.
But when my internship ended, Mr. Chadwick and his daughter Gabrielle laughed in my face, telling me the "experience" was my payment and I should be grateful.
They tried to dismiss me with a crumpled hundred-dollar bill, dismissing two months of grueling work.
I fought back and got paid, but their retaliation was swift and brutal.
First, they used their influence as college donors to get my scholarship suspended and my work-study revoked, threatening my entire future.
Then, Gabrielle launched a vicious online smear campaign, fabricating a pornographic dating profile with my picture, falsely accusing me of being a "home-wrecker" and a "prostitute."
The internet exploded, dragging my name through the mud, and the college dean demanded my immediate withdrawal.
They wanted to bury me, to make me disappear quietly and protect their precious reputations.
But they severely underestimated me.
I wasn't just a film student; I knew how to put a story together, and now I wasn't fighting for money-I was fighting for my life, my family, and my future.
I wouldn't just survive; I would make sure the Chadwick empire crumbled under the weight of its own ugliness, and they would get exactly what they deserved. Level Up: Her Vengeance Achieved
Modern I was Sarah Miller, head coach of The Vortex, the eSports team I' d poured my soul into, deeply in love with our MVP, Jake. Today was the National Championship Finals, the culmination of years of relentless effort, a moment I believed would define our shared triumph.
But just before the match, Jake' s "childhood friend," Brittany, offered him a strange, vibrant blue drink – a "special focus aid" she cooed. Instinct screaming at me, I lunged, smashing the suspicious liquid from his hand, desperate to protect him from what I knew was wrong.
His response was immediate and brutal: a searing slap across my face, loud enough to echo, in front of the entire team. "You crazy bitch!" Jake screamed. The very players I built, The Vortex, just stood by, silent and condemning. This act of betrayal spiraled into a nightmare: their humiliating loss, Brittany' s meticulously orchestrated online hate campaign, my swift firing, career annihilation, and eventually, a fatal hit-and-run orchestrated by a shadowy figure.
I died, bleeding out on cold asphalt, not from a random accident, but from their calculated malice. Every sacrifice, every ounce of dedication, repaid with public humiliation, utter destruction, and a lonely, violent end. Why did protecting the people I loved lead to my demise? Was I truly so disposable, so easily villainized?
Then, cold sweat. I gasped awake, sitting bolt upright, a calendar notification on my buzzing phone confirming: "National eSports Championship Finals - TODAY." I stared at my younger, unscarred reflection. I was back. This second chance wasn't for them; it was for me. This time, I wouldn't intervene. They would face the consequences of their own choices. And this time, I would burn them all down. Revenge Of The Neglected Heiress
Fantasy I was just a freshly unemployed paralegal in Chicago, killing time by hate-scrolling the trashiest online serial, "Heiress Undone." "This writing is an abomination," I muttered, typing a furious comment about the doormat protagonist and cartoon villains.
The moment I hit 'post,' my screen flickered. A pop-up declared: [Narrative Correction System Activated.] Before I could react, my apartment dissolved. One blink later, I was in a ridiculously opulent mansion, dressed as a personal assistant, right in the middle of the Miller family drama I' d just criticized.
It was the exact scene: Eleanor Miller shrieked at meek Ava, while her 'sister' Brittany feigned illness. My tablet chimed, revealing a grim truth: Ava's narrative was at "98% failure" for justice. Then, the unbelievable offer: fix this story, and I'd get $7.8 million in royalties.
My paralegal brain screamed "Insane!" but the payout was real. Yet, seeing Ava' s quiet despair, the infuriating injustice of these cartoon villains resonated deeper than any sum. I was just a reader, but now I was unexpectedly tangled in a living, breathing train wreck.
As Eleanor demanded Ava apologize, I stepped forward. "Actually," I said, my voice clear, "Ava has nothing to apologize for." The System buzzed. This wasn't just about the money anymore. "We're going to get you out of this mess," I promised Ava. "I'm in." Too Late, Mr. Vanderbilt
Romance For three years, my high-society marriage to Ethan Vanderbilt was a gilded cage, filled with a silence louder than any sound.
I had loved him for seven years, a fervent adoration that secretly curdled into despair, despite being married to a man who barely acknowledged my existence.
Then, hidden in the Hamptons estate, I overheard his raw anguish: he married me only because my supposed best friend, Chloe, begged him to, calling it her idea to protect them from scandal.
My heart fractured anew when he confessed to Chloe, the woman he truly loved, that being my husband would "kill him," and later, when he confirmed to my face their entire scheme with a casual "Yes."
He exploited my love even further, begging for a kidney to save Chloe' s life and promising "anything," only to later reveal his utter indifference to my well-being.
At a chaotic gala, as he shielded Chloe from a champagne shower, he left me exposed to shattering glass and a life-threatening allergic reaction, proving I truly "meant nothing" compared to her.
I watched him fuss over her, oblivious to my smoke-stained face after a restaurant fire, finally understanding the depth of his contempt and my own utter disposability.
The man I had adored was a ghost who had systematically taken me for granted, using my heart and even my body as a mere convenience for his secret affair.
How could I have been so blind, so stupid, to trade everything for a love that was always a transactional lie?
There was nothing left but to embrace the chilling clarity of my shattered reality and finally set myself free.
I left him the divorce papers he' d signed unread and my wedding ring, boarding a plane to Montana, leaving behind the luxurious illusion of my past life and stepping into the unknown future. The Wedding Crash: Delivered From The Dead
Romance I worked three desperate jobs for Olivia, my wife, after her family's fashion empire crumbled, drowning in millions of debt.
She claimed we needed a ‘fake divorce' to protect me, a sacrifice I bravely accepted, even enrolling in a high-risk medical trial for quick cash.
But one afternoon, arriving home early, I overheard her silky voice, a shocking confession to her assistant: our ‘divorce' was a charade.
She planned to marry her brand director, Julian, for a ‘big splash' society wedding, then later divorce him and remarry me.
My world imploded.
Every ounce of my dedication, every aching muscle and every risk I took, had been a calculated lie.
The divorce papers became lead in my hand, burning with the truth of her deceit.
Then came the crushing news: the experimental trial had failed, leaving me with just one month to live.
Adding insult to fatal injury, I received her elegant wedding invitation to Julian Thorne, set for one month from now.
How could the woman I'd loved so fiercely, for whom I'd sacrificed everything, be such a cold, calculating monster?
My heart shattered, but a quiet resolve hardened my spirit.
I wouldn't be there to see her wedding, but my final, silent revenge would arrive precisely on time, delivered in a shocking package for Olivia Hayes, at The Grand Astoria, on her wedding day. Remarried To The False Heir
Modern Tristan is the real young master in the drama.
His father said, whoever between him and his brother first has a grandson, will be able to inherit billions of assets from the family.
Three years after getting married, he was honest and sincere:
"If you can't get pregnant, but she is pregnant, I can only choose her. You know how important a child is to me, right?"
I twitched at the corner of my eye, but still didn't tell him the truth.
Later, I married his brother and went to his house for dinner while pregnant.
He said, "How is this possible? You clearly can't give birth!"
Everyone looked at each other, and finally I broke the silence:
"Tristan, why don't you go check it out?" You might like
Wrong Room: Sleeping With My Fiancé's Uncle
Natala O'neal 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.” I Slapped My Fiancé-Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis
Jessica C. Dolan Being second best is practically in my DNA. My sister got the love, the attention, the spotlight. And now, even her damn fiancé.
Technically, Rhys Granger was my fiancé now-billionaire, devastatingly hot, and a walking Wall Street wet dream. My parents shoved me into the engagement after Catherine disappeared, and honestly? I didn't mind. I'd crushed on Rhys for years. This was my chance, right? My turn to be the chosen one?
Wrong.
One night, he slapped me. Over a mug. A stupid, chipped, ugly mug my sister gave him years ago. That's when it hit me-he didn't love me. He didn't even see me. I was just a warm-bodied placeholder for the woman he actually wanted. And apparently, I wasn't even worth as much as a glorified coffee cup.
So I slapped him right back, dumped his ass, and prepared for disaster-my parents losing their minds, Rhys throwing a billionaire tantrum, his terrifying family plotting my untimely demise.
Obviously, I needed alcohol. A lot of alcohol.
Enter him.
Tall, dangerous, unfairly hot. The kind of man who makes you want to sin just by existing. I'd met him only once before, and that night, he just happened to be at the same bar as my drunk, self-pitying self. So I did the only logical thing: I dragged him into a hotel room and ripped off his clothes.
It was reckless. It was stupid. It was completely ill-advised.
But it was also: Best. Sex. Of. My. Life.
And, as it turned out, the best decision I'd ever made.
Because my one-night stand isn't just some random guy. He's richer than Rhys, more powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be playing with.
And now, he's not letting me go. Craving for My Tyrant Husband
Cosme Seidel I was cheated on by my scumbag boyfriend.
On the night I got blackout drunk, I married a stranger, and when I woke up, I only found a marriage certificate and a black card.
He took care of my scumbag ex for me, gave me a canary diamond ring, but refused to show his face-he only called me baby on video calls.
I ran to my best friend's house to hide, only to find that the billionaire next door, who made my heart skip a beat, had the exact same scent as him.
My best friend cried and begged me: "He's Augustus, a tyrant who eats people alive!"
But only I knew that the man who pressed me against the terrace railing, leaned down to kiss me, and whispered "I'll protect you" softly.
Fifty thousand dollars to sneak photos of his private office? I'll go.
Not for the money, but to ask him to his face-
Gus, how many secrets are you hiding? And how long have you been craving me? Her Secret Identity: The Tycoon’s Unplanned Wife
JESSICA KIRK My family arranged my marriage to Silas Thorne, a Wall Street titan. There was just one problem: everyone, including my powerful new husband, believed I was a crippled, helpless girl from the countryside.
On the day of my physical therapy, my father called, not to ask how I was, but to demand I give up the marriage for his illegitimate daughter, Chloe.
"You can barely walk without a limp," he sneered. "You are going to embarrass the Vance family."
My new husband treated me with cold duty, carrying me like a fragile doll but refusing to share a bed, citing my ‘soft tissue injury’ as a pathetic excuse. The rejection was humiliating. To make matters worse, Chloe tracked me down while I was shopping, eager to mock me in public.
"Silas doesn't value you," she said, flashing a cheap ring from my father. "You’re just a crippled placeholder."
They all saw a weak girl they could push around, completely blind to the fact that my limp was a carefully crafted lie.
So I took the unlimited black card Silas gave me and bought a fifty-seven-million-dollar pink diamond, crushing her in front of New York’s elite. When I returned to our penthouse, Silas was waiting for me, a dangerous smirk on his face.
"I heard," he said, his voice a low rumble, "that you bought a star with my money today?" Craving The Wrong Brother
Elysian Sparrow She spent ten years chasing after the right brother, only to fall for the wrong one in one weekend.
~~~
Sloane Mercer has been hopelessly in love with her best friend, Finn Hartley, since college. For ten long years, she's stood by him, stitching him back together every time Delilah Crestfield-his toxic on-and-off girlfriend-shattered his heart.
But when Delilah gets engaged to another man, Sloane thinks this might finally be her chance to have Finn for herself. She couldn't be more wrong.
Heartbroken and desperate, Finn decides to crash Delilah's wedding and fight for her one last time. And he wants Sloane by his side.
Reluctantly, Sloane follows him to Asheville, hoping that being close to Finn will somehow make him see her the way she's always seen him.
Everything changes when she meets Knox Hartley, Finn's older brother-a man who couldn't be more different from Finn. He's dangerously magnetic. Knox sees right through Sloane and makes it his mission to pull her into his world.
What starts as a game-a twisted bet between them-soon turns into something deeper. Sloane is trapped between two brothers: one who's always broken her heart and another who seems hell-bent on claiming it... no matter the cost.
CONTENT WARNING:
This story is strongly 18+.
It delves into dark romance themes such as obsession and lust with morally complex characters.
While this is a love story, reader discretion is advised.
No More Your Scorned Wife: The Medical Empress Returns
Ela Osaretin "Sign it. Save her, and I'll give you anything."
For four years, I was Damian Wright's 'invisible wife'.
While I played the pauper, he poured his soul into his dying first love. Desperate, he blindly signed a stack of papers to buy the 'Gifted Doctor's' time.
He didn't read the fine print. Buried inside was our Divorce Decree.
"Congratulations, Damian," I said, stripping off my surgical mask to reveal the wife he never truly knew. "You're free."
The submissive Amelia is dead.
The legendary 'Ghost Surgeon'? That's me.
The blindfolded racing queen 'Raven'? Also me.
The shadow behind the global intelligence network V-Null? Still me.
I was ready to vanish, but Lucas Sullivan-the titan who makes the Wrights look like peasants-blocked my path.
When Damian tried to reclaim me, Lucas didn't just stop him; he brought an empire to its knees.
"They don't deserve to look at you," Lucas whispered, his touch a lethal mix of protection and obsession. "But if you crave the world, Amelia, I'll burn it down just to hear you say my name."
Marrying My Runaway Groom's Powerful Father
Temple Madison I was sitting in the Presidential Suite of The Pierre, wearing a Vera Wang gown worth more than most people earn in a decade. It was supposed to be the wedding of the century, the final move to merge two of Manhattan's most powerful empires.
Then my phone buzzed. It was an Instagram Story from my fiancé, Jameson. He was at Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris with a caption that read: "Fuck the chains. Chasing freedom." He hadn't just gotten cold feet; he had abandoned me at the altar to run across the world.
My father didn't come in to comfort me. He burst through the door roaring about a lost acquisition deal, telling me the Holland Group would strip our family for parts if the ceremony didn't happen by noon. My stepmother wailed about us becoming the laughingstock of the Upper East Side. The Holland PR director even suggested I fake a "panic attack" to make myself look weak and sympathetic to save their stock price. Then Jameson’s sleazy cousin, Pierce, walked in with a lopsided grin, offering to "step in" and marry me just to get his hands on my assets.
I looked at them and realized I wasn't a daughter or a bride to anyone in that room. I was a failed asset, a bouncing check, a girl whose own father told her to go to Paris and "beg" the man who had just publicly humiliated her.
The girl who wanted to be loved died in that mirror. I realized that if I was going to be sold to save a merger, I was going to sell myself to the one who actually controlled the money.
I marched past my parents and walked straight into the VIP holding room. I looked the most powerful man in the room—Jameson’s cold, ruthless uncle, Fletcher Holland—dead in the eye and threw the iPad on the table.
"Jameson is gone," I said, my voice as hard as stone. "Marry me instead." Too Late, Mr. White! I'm Married To Your Rival Now
Krystal Twelve years of love, loyalty, and promises-shattered in one gunshot moment.
Aria thought she knew what love meant: sacrifices, patience, blind faith in the man she'd called her fiancé for over a decade. But on Valentine's Day, with a gun pointed in their direction, Liam instinctively shielded his ex, Sophia-while Aria was left bleeding and invisible.
"You almost died!"
"And he didn't even look at me, Lili. He wrapped his arms around her like I was nothing."
Torn between heartbreak and dignity, Aria makes a bold move-marrying Liam's wealthy rival, Aiden Carter, in an impulsive act of revenge. But Aiden is more than a rebound. He's powerful, possessive, and unexpectedly protective-and he plays for keeps.
Now caught between a love that failed her, and a man who may demand more than she's ready to give. Aria's heart faces the ultimate reckoning.
Will she finally become someone's first choice-or lose herself trying? Sexy Behind The Mask
Ellie Wynters She hides behind ugly suits and fake names. He's done trusting women. When they meet in a masked sex club, neither realizes they've been fighting each other across boardroom tables for eighteen months. At Taylor Industries, she's Joy Smith-the frumpy CFO who drowns her curves in shapeless polyester and wearing a wig. At home, she's the forgotten wife of a cheating lawyer who hasn't touched her in so long she's starting to wonder if she's broken. When she finds hot pink lace panties stuffed in her couch cushions...definitely not hers, it's not heartbreak she feels. It's freedom. Grayson Taylor doesn't do relationships anymore. Not after walking in on his actress fiancée with another woman. Now he channels everything into hostile takeovers and board meetings, especially the ones where his overcautious CFO fights him on every goddamn acquisition. Joy Smith is brilliant, infuriating, and funny when he pushes all her buttons. But Honey is tired of being invisible. Tired of never having felt real pleasure. So, when her best friend gives her the details of The Velvet Room-Manhattan's most exclusive masked club-she promises herself just one night. One night to find out if her husband's right, if she really is frigid, or if she's just never been touched by the right hands. She doesn't expect the masked stranger who claims her the second she walks in. Doesn't expect the chemistry that ignites between them, the way he makes her body sing, or the orgasms that leave her shaking. Doesn't expect him to hand her an email address with one command: "Only me. No one else touches you." The Discarded Heiress: Marrying My Lethal Husband
Xiao Wang The rain in Detroit was slick with grime when my family finally came to fetch me. They didn't want a reunion; they wanted a sacrificial lamb to marry into the Kaufman empire to save their failing business.
I thought I was just being sold off, but the limo ride ended under a dark overpass where six hired thugs were waiting with chains. My own sister had ordered them to "break my spirit" so I’d be a shaking, pathetic mess by the time I reached the altar.
They called me "Detroit trash" and sprayed air freshener when I sat on their leather seats. My stepmother wanted a video of me begging for my life, and my father was ready to trade me like a used car to a man everyone called a "vegetable." They expected a submissive country girl, unaware that I was a high-level "cleaner" who could snap a radius bone before they could even scream.
When I finally reached the Kaufman estate, I found my fiancé, Barron, slumped in a wheelchair, drooling and silent. But as soon as the doors closed, the "invalid" grabbed my wrist with a grip of iron and whispered a command that changed everything.
I didn't understand why my own blood was so desperate to see me destroyed. What had I ever done to deserve a hit squad and a forced marriage to a man they thought was a corpse?
But Barron isn't a vegetable, and I'm not a victim. We just touched down at the Moon family gala in a matte-black helicopter, and as the doors slide open, the "broken" bride is about to show them exactly what happens when you throw away the wrong daughter.
"If we're going to crash a party," Barron whispered, his eyes burning with lethal clarity, "we should make an entrance." 
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