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.

I just got my billionaire husband to sign our divorce papers. He thinks it's another business document. Our marriage was a business transaction. I was his secretary by day, his invisible wife by night. He got a CEO title and a rebellion against his mother; I got the money to save mine. The only rule? Don't fall in love. I broke it. He didn't. So I'm cashing out. Thirty days from now, I'm gone. But now he's noticing me. Touching me. Claiming me. The same man who flaunts his mistresses is suddenly burning down a nightclub because another man insulted me. He says he'll never let me go. But he has no idea I'm already halfway out the door. How far will a billionaire go to keep a wife he never wanted until she tried to leave?

Elodie took a deep breath and knocked, the sound echoing in the quiet corridor. A moment of silence passed, broken only by the pounding of her heart. Finally, the door snicked open, revealing a surprised Dashiell. 'Can't you see the Do Not Disturb sign? We don't want-' His initial frown quickly morphed into confusion at the sight of his wife. 'What are you doing here?' he demanded. 'Your girlfriend invited me,' Elodie replied, her voice laced with icy calm. She tried to peer past him, but his broad frame blocked the view. A saccharine voice chimed in from within the room. 'Elodie? Oh dear, we didn't mean for you to find out this way. It's just that-' Elodie cut her short. 'Oh please, Selene. Spare me the fake apologies. You wouldn't have sent me all those texts if you didn't want me to know.' Dashiell shifted uncomfortably, his face a mask of annoyance. 'What texts?' Elodie stepped past him, taking in the luxurious suite with a sardonic smile. The king-sized bed, the scattered rose petals, the lingering scent of sex – it all painted a vivid picture of their betrayal. She looked up at Dashiell, her gaze unwavering. 'I want a divorce.' ****** Dashiell lived a life of luxury, surrounded by the best things money could buy. But when a car accident left him vulnerable, he met Elodie, a seemingly ordinary woman who nursed him back to health. Mistaking her for just another employee, Dashiell entered into a loveless marriage with her solely for convenience. However, fate had a different script in store. Elodie, the 'ordinary nurse,' held a secret more precious than any diamond: she was the sole heiress to Northstar, a vast and powerful enterprise. Unaware of her true identity, Dashiell cast her aside when his ex-girlfriend returned, leaving Elodie humiliated. But Elodie was not one to be easily broken. She shed the facade of the meek nurse, reclaiming her rightful inheritance and stepping into the role of Northstar's CEO. Now, the woman Dashiell discarded was the one holding the reins of power. As Elodie thrives in her new role, Dashiell is consumed by regret. He finally sees Elodie for the extraordinary woman she truly is, realising the depth of his mistake. But will his remorse be enough to win back the heart he so carelessly discarded?

'What do you want from me?' she finally managed to ask, her voice trembling. Logan's lips curled into a dark smirk. 'Since you were the one who took those photos that damaged my reputation,' he said, his voice dripping with disdain, 'it's only fair that you face the consequences.' Alessia's heart beat wildly as she tried to comprehend the meaning behind Logan's words. Before she could gather her thoughts and ask what kind of punishment he had in mind, Logan's hand clamped down on her jaw, holding her firmly in place. Her eyes widened in shock, her breath caught in her throat. In an instant, Logan lowered his head, capturing her lips with his own in a possessive and demanding kiss. *************** After a fateful night, Alessia awakens to the realisation that she has given her virginity to a stranger. With only a note and a bundle of money as clues, she embarks on a journey of self-discovery and motherhood. Years later, Alessia finds herself navigating the cutthroat world of paparazzi reporting while raising her genius son, Milo. Her quest for a scandalous scoop leads her to the enigmatic billionaire CEO, Logan Wilde, whose face bears an uncanny resemblance to her son. As she dives deeper into Logan's world, she can't deny the magnetic attraction between them. Logan, suffering from a haunting secret, feels the same way. Determined to know her, he makes an unexpected proposition. As they explore the complexities of their newfound connection, they discover shocking revelations that bind them together in unimaginable ways. Amidst misunderstandings and prideful clashes, their love is put to the ultimate test. Alessia and Logan each hold a secret that could shatter their fragile bond. Will they find the courage to reveal the truth and embrace the love that fate has brought into their lives? Or will Logan's unexpected encounter with a woman long presumed dead threaten to tear them apart once and for all?

'Callie,' he began, his voice husky, 'crying over your ex-boyfriend won't solve anything.' Confusion etched across her face, Callie furrowed her brows. 'Then what will?' she demanded, her voice tinged with frustration. Elias leaned closer, his warm breath caressing her cheek. 'You need to show him what he's lost. Find a man who's more handsome, more powerful, and richer than him. Then, make a grand entrance into his life with your new partner.' Callie scoffed, her eyes rolling in disbelief. 'Where am I supposed to find someone like that?' Elias's fingers gently lifted her chin, locking their gazes together. 'I can be that man,' he said. 'If you agree to be with me, I'll protect you from any harm, including your ex-boyfriend.' ********************************************** Elias Westwood, billionaire heir turned professional solider, a commanding presence on the battlefield, conceals a tender heart that beats for only one woman--Callie Hawthorne, a fearless surgical resident, possesses an innocent charm and wields her skills like a warrior in the operating theatre. Their first encounter thrusts them into a dangerous game of deception. Elias uses Callie as a pawn, their lips locked in a passionate kiss, fooling his pursuers. In that moment, Callie feels the allure of the enigmatic soldier, and a strange connection sparks between them. An impulsive decision seals their fate-a hasty marriage to escape an arranged union and prove Callie's readiness to move on from a past love. Little did they know, this act would propel them onto an unforeseen path. Amidst the chaos of war, Elias risks his life for his countrymen, while Callie tends to the wounded and shelters refugees. In the midst of battle, a tender love blossoms. Elias's strength and haunting scars captivate Callie, who shares the pain of being an orphan. She admires his unwavering bravery, finding solace in their shared experiences. Yet, their bond faces relentless challenges. Women vie for Elias's attention, while men yearn for Callie's affection. Sinister forces within the army conspire against Elias, and false accusations threaten to tear Callie away from the man she loves. And Elia's search for the truth about his parents' deaths leads him to confront one of the country's most powerful families. Passion collides with suspense, and love battles against those who seek to tear them apart. Will Elias and Callie emerge unscathed from the shadows, or will their sacrifices shatter their dreams forever? Discover their fight for a future filled with hope, trust, and the promise of a happy ending.

The kiss grew more passionate as he felt her warm supple body pressing against his chest. He couldn't believe how soft she was. He was gentler this time, making love to her with a slow, languorous pace, pausing now and then to check the expression on her face. Kira was. transported. She no longer felt the fabric of the sheets underneath her. One moment, she was floating in the air, cuddled by cotton candy clouds. The next, she'd become one with a dinghy, bobbing up and down with the undulating waves. His scent enveloped her. He was on top of her, using his arms to support his weight and avoid crushing her. She snuggled up closer to him, safe and snug, cocooned in his warmth. Kira had always marvelled at Austyn's stamina, but he outdid himself tonight. In the midst of overwhelming rapture, Kira still had the presence of mind to broach the subject she'd been meaning to bring up. 'My dad's medical bills.' Austyn paused. He frowned as he looked into those beseeching eyes. 'It'll be taken care of by the end of business day tomorrow,' he said with a bit of an edge in his voice. Kira breathed out. ****** She is a 21-year-old college student who dreams of becoming a journalist. He is the heir of the McCarthy family and president of a business empire. She is bright-eyed and vivacious, a glass-half-full kind of gal. When life throws her a curveball, she knocks it out of the park. He is the archetypal alpha male, aggressive and domineering. Endowed with both brains and brawn, he steamrolls over his enemies and rules his company with an iron fist. The two would never have crossed paths if not for a cruel twist of fate. Kira's world was turned upside down when her father was hospitalised after a car accident. The medical bills were astronomical. Austyn McCarthy offered her a way out. The price: becoming his contract wife. At night, he consummated their marriage but called out another woman's name. Who was she? Why did Austyn marry Kira if he was in love with someone else? Kira was his lawful wife, but she had no right to ask these questions. Then one day, the woman showed up in front of her.

For five years, I abandoned my status as the heiress of the powerful Montgomery family to play the role of a poor, submissive housewife for Barrett. Then, a bank notification popped up on my phone. Barrett had forged my digital signature and transferred our entire $50 million joint trust fund to a woman named Crista Reid. When I called his boardroom to confront him, he humiliated me in front of a dozen Wall Street executives. "Stop acting like a hysterical housewife. You're living in a penthouse I pay for, so don't embarrass yourself." I broke into his encrypted laptop and uncovered the sickening truth. Crista was his mistress, and they had a five-year-old son together. Barrett hadn't just stolen my money; he had spent years painting me as a helpless charity case he rescued, completely erasing the fact that my financial models built his entire company. He thought I was just a discarded peasant he could manipulate, cheat on, and replace. He truly believed he held absolute power over my life. He had no idea that I still possessed the highest security clearance of the Montgomery empire. I pulled an old BlackBerry from a hidden wall compartment, plugged it in, and dialed my family's lawyer. "Draft the prenup for Commodore Clayton IV," I ordered, choosing to marry Wall Street's most ruthless predator. "I'm done playing the peasant."

For ten years, I was the perfect, obedient wife to my wealthy husband, managing his severe OCD and hosting flawless high-society parties. But on our tenth anniversary, when I brought him his special hangover soup, I caught him sleeping with my younger sister in our master bedroom. Instead of panicking, he coldly handed me divorce papers with zero assets. He told me I was just a "placeholder" until my sister finished her degree and was ready to take my spot. Desperate, I called my mother for help, only to find out she had known about their affair for years. "You don't have Jana's drive or her looks. You clean house and you cook. That's not a wife, that's a domestic." My own mother sneered at me, telling me to walk away quietly because our family needed his financial support. They kicked me out of the penthouse with nothing but a suitcase, laughing that a woman who hadn't worked in a decade would end up begging on the streets. I bled for this family for ten years, only to be thrown away like garbage when my sister wanted my life. But they didn't know that while I was playing the boring housewife, I had secretly earned a Cordon Bleu diploma, a Cornell nutrition certification, and a Columbia master's degree. Using a hidden photo to blackmail a property out of him, I packed my elite credentials and landed a $300,000-a-year job managing a billionaire's estate. When my ex-husband drunkenly called days later demanding I come back to serve him, I calmly hit block.

For two years, Clementine played the perfectly obedient wife to billionaire Donovan Bray, wearing his heavy diamonds and enduring his cold indifference. Until she accidentally saw his tablet and discovered she was just a "collateral asset"—a cheap lookalike prop hired to make his ex-girlfriend, Gisela, jealous. When Gisela returned to New York, Donovan's mask completely slipped. During a vicious argument where he mocked Clementine as a pathetic shadow, he grabbed her, causing her to fall down a flight of marble stairs. Waking up in the hospital, Clementine learned she had miscarried a six-week-old baby she didn't even know she had. But what truly shattered her was hearing Donovan's voice through the cracked hospital door. "It changes nothing." He coldly lied to his friend that the fall had caused permanent infertility. "It was probably for the best." He had killed her unborn child and casually dismissed her worth, truly believing she was a penniless nobody who would suffer his abuse in silence. He thought he held all the power, leaving her broken and discarded for his true love. What Donovan didn't know was that his fragile, dependent wife was secretly "C.", the billionaire genius behind Aurelian, the world's most exclusive luxury jewelry empire. Lying in the sterile room, Clementine dried her tears, filed for a ruthless divorce, and permanently froze his supplementary black card. It was time to show him who really held the strings.

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 was Landon Mercer's secret girlfriend and loyal assistant for four years. I thought my absolute devotion would eventually win his heart. But he casually announced his engagement to a wealthy heiress, reminding me I was just a convenient nobody from an orphanage. When I got trapped in a horrific car crash and begged him to call an ambulance, he just hung up on me, annoyed that my bleeding was ruining his romantic getaway. He even blackmailed me with my orphanage's land lease, forcing me to attend his engagement party as a prop. At the party, his elite family and friends brutally humiliated me. They deliberately crushed my broken arm, poured red wine over my head, and kicked me into a freezing pond. When Landon finally pulled me out, he didn't care that I was suffocating and turning blue. "Are you out of your mind? You come out here and cause a scene during my engagement party?" He threw a stack of cash at my shivering body, furious that I had embarrassed him in front of his wealthy guests. Looking at the hundred-dollar bills floating in the muddy water, my four years of foolish love completely died. To him, I wasn't even human; I was just a cheap toy he could abuse and pass around. I didn't cry, and I didn't beg. I dragged my soaked, battered body into a car and headed straight to the penthouse of his biggest billionaire rival. It was time to burn Landon Mercer's world to the ground.

Kenzie, the former leader of the Aegis Alliance, opened her eyes to find herself reincarnated as a freezing, abandoned infant in a wet cardboard box. She was rescued from the rain by Devin Ayers, a ruthless billionaire, and rushed to a private hospital, but a deadly threat was already waiting for her. The ER doctor, Desiree Dillon, approached her with a syringe. Through a sudden burst of telepathy, Kenzie read the doctor's dark thoughts. Desiree wasn't trying to cure her fever. She deliberately ignored the safe dosage, drawing a lethal amount of Diazepam to permanently silence the crying baby and disguise it as sudden infant death. "This will make it all go away," Desiree smiled gently, the needle glinting as it moved inches from Kenzie's arm. Trapped in a weak, paralyzed three-month-old body, Kenzie couldn't run, fight, or even speak. She could only watch the poison inch closer. How could she survive death only to be assassinated in a hospital bed by a corrupt doctor? She used to command armies. The sheer injustice and terror of dying completely helpless in this tiny body ignited a blinding rage inside her. Refusing to be a victim again, Kenzie pushed her newborn brain to its absolute limit and unleashed a desperate telepathic scream directly into the billionaire's mind. "Poison! She's trying to kill me!" Devin, who had been looking away, suddenly froze, his icy gray eyes locking onto the doctor's wrist.

For three years, Ciara played the perfect, invisible protocol wife to billionaire Jordon Webb. But on the day she finally held a positive pregnancy test, he abandoned her mid-sentence to rush to the side of his ex-lover, Jasmine. Seeking answers, Ciara went to his Wall Street office, only to be publicly humiliated by his family. His cousin intentionally poured scalding espresso over her hand, leaving her skin blistered and raw. "She's a protocol wife. She knows her place. She's replaceable." Hearing Jordon's cold words to his friends shattered her. When he finally appeared, instead of defending his injured wife, he furiously scolded her for causing a scene and ruining his company's image. That night, while Jordon stayed at the hospital holding a perfectly fine Jasmine in his arms, Ciara was left completely alone in their dark, empty penthouse. A sudden, agonizing cramp ripped through her abdomen. She suffered a devastating miscarriage, bleeding out on the cold marble floor with no one to answer her cries. A decade of loving him had left her with a dead baby, a ruined hand, and absolute despair. Why did she have to lose her child while he fiercely protected the woman who mocked her existence? The next morning, her sorrow burned away into cold, hardened ash. Ciara signed the divorce papers, waiving all alimony, and left them behind. Jordon had no idea that his docile, charity-case wife was actually LUNA, the world-famous anonymous couture designer. She packed her bags, walked out of the penthouse, and prepared to take her life back.

Keely returned to her Manhattan penthouse a day early, expecting the loving billionaire husband who had just told her how much he missed her. Instead, the scent of cheap vanilla perfume led her to the guest room, where she found Haden tangled in the sheets with his timid, soft-spoken secretary. To the world, Haden was the flawless, devoted partner. He would even beat a man to a bloody pulp at a high-society gala just for insulting her, violently claiming he was protecting his wife. But behind his golden-retriever facade lay a narcissistic monster. While begging for her affection and making her breakfast, he was secretly draining their marital assets into offshore accounts in the Cayman Islands. Keely had to swallow her disgust, forcing a perfect smile as she played the clueless, dependent trophy wife he wanted her to be. It made her physically sick. She couldn't understand how the man who looked into the camera with eyes full of love just last night could be the same thief plotting to leave her with nothing. Was his violent, suffocating obsession with her just a sick cover for his betrayal? But Haden didn't know his "helpless" wife was actually the ruthless CTO of a tech empire. She had already hacked the home surveillance and traced the missing funds, ready to make him bleed. Then, her private investigator called with a medical report that pushed her revenge to the edge. "Mrs. Jones, Darlene Sutton is six weeks pregnant."

Cecile jolted awake from months of prescription haze, only to realize she was trapped in a live reality show designed to destroy her. Her billionaire husband had orchestrated the broadcast to publicly humiliate her and elevate his own PR image. He ordered her to follow a degrading script. What was worse, her five-year-old son, Damien, was genuinely terrified of her. When an empty wine bottle rolled across the floor, the tiny boy instantly threw his arms over his head, bracing for a hit. The production crew shoved microphones into the trembling child's face, trying to trigger his trauma for ratings. The live chat cursed Cecile as a toxic abuser. The show's golden girl maliciously tried to poach Damien on camera to prove Cecile was an unfit mother. The crew even rigged the game, forcing Cecile and her son into a freezing, rotting mud shack with a collapsed roof. They were all just waiting for her to break down and beg. "A toxic woman like you doesn't deserve to be a mother." The crew read the hateful comments aloud, expecting a hysterical meltdown. The realization that she had been manipulated into destroying her own child hit Cecile like a physical blow. How could a father subject his own son to this public cruelty? The weak, easily manipulated Cecile was dead. She threw the PR script away, rolled up her sleeves, and picked up a rusted hammer. This time, she would protect her son and tear down anyone who stood in her way.

The freezing rain lashed against my face as I clung to the iron gates of the Hendrix estate, begging for a chance to prove I didn't kill my best friend. I had come here for mercy, but the man I had secretly loved for years had a different plan. He didn't want to hear my truth; he wanted to see me broken. As the sun rose, the estate manager delivered the final blow. He shoved Emery’s phone into my face, showing a forged text message that framed me for her death, then turned his back as the gates slammed shut. My own family didn't offer a lifeline, either. When the police came for me, my parents didn't fight for my innocence; they chose to disown me to save their bank accounts from Alfredo’s wrath. I was thrown into Rikers Island, stripped of my dignity, and subjected to years of calculated, brutal torture paid for by the man who once held my heart. How could the person I loved turn my life into a private slaughterhouse based on a lie? After three years of hell, I walked out of those prison gates with nothing but a scarred body and a hollow soul. The woman who loved Alfredo Hendrix died in that cell. Now, I’m back in the city where it all began, and I’m done hiding.