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Married To My Ex-Fiancé's Silent Uncle
Twenty minutes before the "Wedding of the Century" at The Plaza, I stood outside the Presidential Suite in a fifty-thousand-dollar Vera Wang gown. I was the girl from a West Virginia trailer park about to marry Hugh Maxwell, the golden heir to a billion-dollar defense empire. I pushed the door open only to find Hugh pinned against the bed with my own stepsister, Floy. She was wearing my bridal diamond necklace, and the sounds of their laughter scraped against my eardrums like sandpaper. I didn't scream; I listened as Hugh grunted that once the wedding was over and the trust fund unlocked, he'd dump "that hillbilly trash" on a bus back to the mountains. They weren't just cheating; they were planning to steal my family's land deeds and leave me with nothing. When I set off the sprinklers and exposed their naked bodies to the paparazzi, the Maxwell family didn't apologize. They called me a "greedy peasant" and threatened to ruin my life unless I signed a new deal to save their crashing stock. I realized then that I was never a bride to them. I was a transaction, a rounding error in a ledger to be used and discarded. They thought my poverty made me weak and my silence made me a victim. "If we don't have a marriage certificate by midnight, the bank freezes thirty percent of our liquidity," their lawyer warned. So, I gave them exactly what they wanted. I used a loophole in their hundred-year-old family covenant and married the only other direct heir available. I didn't marry Hugh. I walked into the ICU and married his uncle, Fleet Maxwell-the legendary war hero who had been in a vegetative state for months. Now, I am the matriarch of the Maxwell dynasty. I've suspended Hugh's executive powers, exiled my mother-in-law to the Swiss Alps, and taken control of the family vault. They think I'm just a gold-digger waiting for a "corpse" to die so I can collect a fifty-million-dollar widow's payout. But last night, as I lay beside my comatose husband, the man they called a vegetable gripped my hand back.
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ACCIDENTALLY OURS
Malik "Malice" Banks has been obsessively in love with his best friend, Nathaniel Price, since the moment they met. They couldn't be more different: Malik is a powerful Alpha destined to become the Empire's next top Enforcer, while Nathaniel is a meek, orphaned Omega constantly scorned by the pack.
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What Rightfully Ours
Ellie Alan, a seventeen-year-old girl that about to turn eighteen has never liked her classification type, omega. Because of that, she spent seventeen years of her life hiding between gammas, in order to live a quiet life without her responsibility as an omega. It was until she met Matthew Bancroft.
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Ours To Tame
This book contains explicit mature scenes, gore, sex, blood, BDSM, 18+ not suitable for younger viewers. Escaping a terrible fate, a beautiful but scarred young woman finds herself sold to a group of dangerous mafia men. But just when she thinks she's found a safe haven, the shadows of her past co Romance R18+ModernRevengeLove triangleSexual slaveMafiaAttractiveAge gapLust/EroticaArrogant/Dominant
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