Prince Of Hell

He despises me... From head to toe... Despite his incredibly handsome face, his unusual sharp tongue speaks volumes. The perfect shape of his body screams that I'm unfit for him. His red and thin lips only know how to utter, "stay away!" In his deep eyes symbolizing strictness, all my flaws and mistakes are reflected. Considered very intelligent, but to me, he's a handsome fool! Because he dislikes me, pushes me away, mocks me, avoids me, and sometimes shouts at me. He sees me as a person with a contagious disease. My stay in their happy home is like a colossal and devastating collapse of his world. He is Lucas Eion Jimenez, and I am Cara Isabelle Mendez—this is my story and my unwanted existence.

"Vincent, Mama is looking for you. Aren't you going home?" Athan asked the twins. I faced Ethan, who was staring at the girl next to him at the bar. "Nope. I'm busy," he said absentmindedly. I just shook my head. Ethan remained focused on the girl's thigh beside him. Damn playboy. "Ah, okay. I'm leaving then. Text Mama, okay?" Athan bid farewell. Without a word, he walked away, leaving me dumbfounded, watching him go. "You like my bro?" Ethan teased. I faced him before taking another sip. "Like is for kids, Ethan," I rolled my eyes. Shortly after, a tray of shot glasses arrived. It was placed in front of us. He smiled at me before locking eyes. "Oh, then love?" he chuckled. I took a shot glass before shaking my head again. I rolled my eyes. "Like, duh! Yuck, you believe in that?!" "Hell, no. Of course not," he replied. I glanced at him before nodding. "At least we have something in common," I said, taking another shot. He followed suit. "Really, I thought girls like you believe in fairy tales. Like Mr. Right," he teased, barely holding back laughter. I choked on my sixth glass before shaking my head. "You say that again, and I swear, I will make you shut up," I said in irritation. Ethan's thoughts about fairy tales and Mr. Right disgusted me. Did I look like a naive twelve-year-old girl? "Oh, you can't make me shut up, baby," he arrogantly replied, moving his face closer. I inched mine towards him too. "Wanna bet?" I challenged. His lips quirked up, mischief gleaming in his green eyes. He stood up and approached me. "Sure. If I win, you'll stay at my pad tonight," he confidently said. I resisted the urge to blush at his words, meeting his gaze. "And?" "And I will rock your world, babe."

"Boss, she's here." The leader of the long-lost PSG turns out to be an English-speaking grasshopper! That's probably why he didn't acknowledge her earlier, because he couldn't understand her. The man with his back turned slightly nodded in recognition. After that, they were left alone in that spacious room. Hannah smirked, knowing she was in trouble with this cocky Boss of the gangsters. It was a big mistake to untie her hands. Even though this Boss was towering and broad-shouldered, he wouldn't stand a chance if they were to wrestle. Yes, she'd hit him repeatedly until he coughed up coins. The audacity of dragging her in front of his people! No one could do that to her! "So, you're the Boss, face me then! What do you want from me?!" she yelled fearlessly, even though his henchmen were just outside. The man didn't respond. This only infuriated her more. "You're so arrogant! I told you to face me!" The man placed the red-wine-filled glass he was holding onto the side table nearby. She was getting annoyed because he seemed indifferent to what she was saying. After displaying that power in front of her, he acted like he wanted her to kneel just for a bit of attention? Of all things she disliked, it was people like him—arrogant and full of self-importance just because they were rich! "If you think I'm scared of you because of the number of your henchmen outside, you're wrong! If you don't want to get hurt, release me now!" No answer. Damn it. Did it have to be in Spanish? "When someone talks to you, you face them, okay? Are you an alien? Can't you understand english? Do you want me to kick you??" She noticed his hands clenching, probably irritated by what she said. He slowly turned towards her. Her jaw dropped literally. Her eyes widened. She blinked ten times. Sweat started forming on her forehead even though the room was cool. Those intelligent brows... Those firm and arrogant lips... And the icy cold stare... Is this for real? It's like he was ripped from the pages of the Prince of Hell magazine and brought to life before her, Prince of Hell #2 in flesh and breathing. Goodness gracious! Not just her jaw, even her heart, liver, and kidneys fell for him! Her whole system went into a riot, because the man she'd desired for a long time was right in front of her now!

She's cruel. She's cold. She's Beautiful. She's Powerful. And she badly needs a boyfriend! Sabrina is your typical fierce lady boss with an attitude. Despite physical perfection and above-average IQ, she's a No Boyfriend Since Birth virgin. She doesn't care, she doesn't need a man anyway. But she has a school alumni to attend. She needs a boyfriend to show off. So she hired the best-looking poor guy she has ever laid eyes on. Almost perfect. But what if her hired boyfriend isn't really poor? And what if he's part of the elite club called PRINCES OF HELL, a list of all ruthless yet dazzling billionaires around the globe? And he's not asking for money as payment.

I shook my head before looking at myself through the mirror again. I just did a little touch-up and decided to go out again. It would be embarrassing if I kept Damian waiting there. He seems like a nice guy. We've only exchanged a few words, but I immediately sense his goodness. He doesn't seem like a man who judges a woman solely by her appearance. I hope we'll get along. A smile appeared on my lips as I left the powder room. Even from a distance, I could see our vacant table. The food we ordered was already there. But Damian was nowhere in sight. Where could he be? Maybe he's in the restroom? When I reached the table, I sat down. I scanned my vegetable salad and grimaced. It doesn't look appetizing. Damian's burger looks much better. But minutes had already passed, and there was no sign of Damian in front of me. I was starting to feel a pang in my heart for an unknown reason. I looked around, hoping to catch a glimpse of him, but it didn't happen. The waiter who served us earlier accidentally passed by my side. "Excuse me!" He turned to look at me, approaching with questioning eyes. "Yes, Ma'am?" "My c-companion earlier, d-did you see him?" He took a moment to think, as if trying to recall. With every passing second of his contemplation, my heart pounded even harder. "Oh! Yes, Ma'am. I saw him leave earlier. He seemed to be in a hurry. He's the handsome one, right?" I nodded. "Did he say anything or leave any instructions?" I didn't pay much attention to what the waiter was saying when my phone rang again. From the illuminated screen, I saw a message from Damian that shattered my heart into pieces. Damian: I'm sorry, Sandra. It's nice to meet you, but I don't think we'll work out. Eat the burger I ordered, instead. It's for you. Don't worry, your bill's already taken care of. Take care."

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."

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?

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.

The day Raina gave birth should have been the happiest of her life. Instead, it became her worst nightmare. Moments after delivering their twins, Alexander shattered her heart-divorcing her and forcing her to sign away custody of their son, Liam. With nothing but betrayal and heartbreak to her name, Raina disappeared, raising their daughter, Ava, on her own.Years later, fate comes knocking when Liam falls gravely ill. Desperate to save his son, Alexander is forced to seek out the one person he once cast aside. Alexander finds himself face to face with the woman he underestimated, pleading for a second chance-not just for himself, but for their son. But Raina is no longer the same broken woman who once loved him.No longer the woman he left behind. She has carved out a new life-one built on strength, wealth, and a long-buried legacy she expected to uncover.Raina has spent years learning to live without him.The question is... Will she risk reopening old wounds to save the son she never got to love? or has Alexander lost her forever?

I think it was more of guilt than worry. I was fucking my ex fiancee's father and while I may not know how this leads, I knew I never wanted it to end. Liv Bennett thought she had her future all figured out-until the night she caught her fiancé, Aaron Blackwood, in a passionate betrayal with her step sister just a night before their wedding. Heartbroken and humiliated, Liv drowns her sorrows in alcohol and ends up sharing a heated, unforgettable night with a mysterious older man. But when the haze of the night clears, Liv's world is turned upside down again. The man she had a one night stand with is none other than Kaelon Blackwood-Aaron's father and a powerful billionaire alpha. As Liv struggles to pick up the pieces of her shattered life, she discovers she's pregnant with Kaelon's child, throwing her into a whirlwind of scandal and forbidden love. Caught between the betrayal of the past and the temptation of a forbidden future, Livphina must find the strength to choose her own path. But can she overcome the obstacles of age, power, and family to claim the love that was never meant to be hers? Will she walk away from the man who could destroy her-or embrace the one who might just save her?

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.  

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."

I stood at the edge of the ballroom, a black blot on my husband’s perfect canvas. While Jensen Carlson stood under the crystal chandeliers as the master of his universe, the guests whispered that his "friend" Aubree was a much better match for him than I ever could be. My stomach was twisting in sharp, jagged cramps from what I knew was acute appendicitis, but to the Carlson family, I wasn't a wife—I was a utility. My mother-in-law called me a "drill bit" and ordered me to drive Jensen home like a servant because his "optics" mattered more than my internal organs. When I arrived, Jensen didn't ask why I was shaking; he just snapped that my black coat was "depressing" and told me to stop "fidgeting" with my medication. He spent the night whispering to Aubree, then came home and fed my divorce papers into a shredder, mocking me for thinking I could survive a week without the Carlson name. The next day, he humiliated me in front of my entire department, accusing me of flirting with staff just as I was about to collapse from the pain. I had given up my PhD for this man and secretly written the code that built his billion-dollar empire, yet he viewed me as nothing more than a "depreciating asset." Even as I lay shivering on the hardwood floor because his mother locked the guest rooms to force me into his bed, he only sneered, asking if he was "that repulsive" when the pain made me vomit. "If you're not in the car by seven, I'll cut off your grandfather's medical funding." That was the final thread. I didn't go to the gala. Instead, I reclaimed my original patents, wiped my server access, and met him on the curb with a cardboard box and a resignation letter. "I'm not your wife anymore, Jensen. And I'm not your employee." As my Uber pulled away, leaving him clutching a revoked patent and a divorce petition, I realized I wasn't losing everything—I was finally starting to breathe.

I received a pornographic video. "Do you like this?" The man speaking in the video is my husband, Mark, whom I haven't seen for several months. He is naked, his shirt and pants scattered on the ground, thrusting forcefully on a woman whose face I can't see, her plump and round breasts bouncing vigorously. I can clearly hear the slapping sounds in the video, mixed with lustful moans and grunts. "Yes, yes, fuck me hard, baby," the woman screams ecstatically in response. "You naughty girl!" Mark stands up and flips her over, slapping her buttocks as he speaks. "Stick your ass up!" The woman giggles, turns around, sways her buttocks, and kneels on the bed. I feel like someone has poured a bucket of ice water on my head. It's bad enough that my husband is having an affair, but what's worse is that the other woman is my own sister, Bella. ************************************************************************************************************************ "I want to get a divorce, Mark," I repeated myself in case he didn't hear me the first time-even though I knew he'd heard me clearly. He stared at me with a frown before answering coldly, "It's not up to you! I'm very busy, don't waste my time with such boring topics, or try to attract my attention!" The last thing I was going to do was argue or bicker with him. "I will have the lawyer send you the divorce agreement," was all I said, as calmly as I could muster. He didn't even say another word after that and just went through the door he'd been standing in front of, slamming it harshly behind him. My eyes lingered on the knob of the door a bit absentmindedly before I pulled the wedding ring off my finger and placed it on the table. I grabbed my suitcase, which I'd already had my things packed in and headed out of the house.

"Wasn't I good in bed? Didn't I spoil you enough? What the hell did those fuckers give you that I couldn't?" My husband, Dean, yells at me for the very first time, gripping my hand and when I look into his eyes, I see how much he's hurting, how much he believed all the lies, how much he's not willing to listen. "I'd never do that to you, Dean. I love you, please believe me," tears streamed down my face as I pleaded with him. "You're meant for the streets Bella, and that's where you'd always be," And just like that my once perfect marriage hits the rock edge in a twinkle of an eye. A stripper, an exotic dancer but none of that mattered to Dean, he promised to love me and he kept to his words, not until this day. And even worse, he used my past against me, something he swore never to do.. ***** Ethan Fernandez, is a notorious casanova and unlike his friend, he never commits to any woman until his path crosses with Ivy, the formidable lawyer and the last person that gives a fuck about men and their shenanigans. Now, the player becomes the played as his life takes an unexpected turn with the walking temptation that lurks in the form of Ivy Reynolds.