Her grave sin was her spellbinding allure that blurred the blood-tie line for him, and his grave mistake was obsessing over a girl he was supposed to exterminate. The vicious King of Evil, the one who didn't have a heart, now finds himself trapped between vengeance, and the irresistible burning desires for the only remaining enemy he has left - and she, oblivious of the abysm of the evil he exudes, is determined to liberate herself from the cage of the monster at all costs. But her desires are inconceivable. Absurd! invalid dreams- or so did everyone thought, until things started taking a turn. What transpires when the vicious heartless monster finds himself at the feet of his culprit? What more miseries await Ella when the truth of her connection with the monster and the mystery besieging her get revealed?
I watch as the door of this dark cage flow ajar. Before I delude myself that it's Joy who has slinked in to check on me, the familiar ominous compelling scent of the monster fills the room, conjuring the familiar adrenaline rush in me. Panic spews in me, and I curl myself up under the sheets, stymieing any contact with my face so as not to irritate the bruises.
These abrasions that the monster has inflicted on me, and he is getting a kick out of giving me all these tortures for the reasons that I don't know. How I got here a week ago without a single memory from my past still remains a puzzle that I have no way of cracking.
"Get up!" His icy tone echoes, adding more terror to the aura I am gasping, my heart pounding with fear induced by his composure.
Without wasting even a second of his time, I jerk myself up and sit at the corner of the bed. His demeaning demeanor and the terror he is percolating don't allow me to look up at him. I keep my head hunched down, like a scared slave before her ruthless master. My exact situation.
He flings a small satchel on the bed, and embarks on slow terrifying strides towards me. He towers before me in a minute, pulling my head up by the hair and urging me to look at him. I swallow hard, hoping that this doesn't get physical again. I am all bruised on the face. My skin will with no doubt peel off if he decides to hurt me again.
Tears start streaming down at the fear of him. I close my eyes.
"Please, don't!" I faintly plead.
"Really, now? And you have the balls to remain seated while I am standing before you?" He hoarses, making me spring to my feet in a split second.
"Sorry! I am sorry, master!" I apologize, hoping that it's not too late.
He lets go of my hair, and delineates my sore spots with his fingers, his touch leaving sparkles of fear and pain on my skin.
"You enjoy getting hurt, don't you? You still want to play tough?" He asks.
I flinch with pain, a groan of agony escaping my lips as he cages my cheeks between his strong hand, adding more pain to the unbearable one that I am concealing.
"No, master!" I whimper, peeling my eyes to meet his scary grey ones - these pools of his which serve as the portrayal of his animosity.
They speak nothing but evil!
"Get the satchel!" He orders, jerking his hand from me.
I breath out a sigh of relief, drying the tears from my eyes as I lunge for the small satchel from the bed where he threw it earlier.
"I am not going to ask you what you have decided, you cheap slave! But still, I will give you one last chance to choose how you want to live here. The outfit you choose will state what you have decided. You have at most a minute!" His voice is as flat as it can ever get, and cold as always.
I open the satchel, and pull the first piece of fabric that my hand lands on, still contemplating on what I want.
The choices are simple. I either be his special sex toy, or he feeds me off to his sex beasts in this brothel. I know what you think. That I am stupid to have harbored all this pain when I had a choice to avoid it all. By being his special sex toy, which means that I will be exclusively his. No fucking dog in the club will dare even think of touching me. But the resentment I feel for this evil monster has clogged my mind, dissuading me from even making a simple choice like this.
He is the root cause of all my miseries, though I can't prove it. He claims to have saved me from that accident, cloaking himself as my savior, but my heart tells me otherwise. Unfortunately, my mind chose to abandon me at the worst moment, hence I have no evidence against him, and I have to be stuck in this cursed hell for I don't know how long. He has made it clear that there is no way out of this place unless you are dead, and my friend, Joy, has affirmed that to me every chance she gets.
I sprawl the red bikini on the bed, tensing at what it signifies. If I choose this, I will be like the rest of the girls, entertaining and pleasuring the beasts to their contentment, and I will have this monster, AJay, their vicious heartless boss, off my back. He won't bother me again, just like he doesn't care about the rest of the girls. I can then work on recovering my memory in peace.
I pull the other attire, and sprawl it on the bed too. A blue gown, well designed for a queen. This will give me an emblem of his special girl, and I wouldn't have to reek of dirt of the sperms from uncountable men drilling me all of my stay here. But I will be leaking of this disgusting monster's pheromones and cums instead. I can't stand his presence, even his name alone. How can I bear his scent on me? And my morals? Well, toss that aside for now. It's not like I have control of their being intact anymore, but losing myself to this beast? It's absurdly disgusting and suffocating even by the mere thought of it.
My thinking is cut short by him grabbing my neck, and turning me around to face him as he fumes with anger.
"I don't have all day, you whore! And nobody, much less a pathetic cheap whore like you keeps me waiting. Speak! Me or my beasts?" He roars with so much fury and impatient, almost deafening me with his rich outbursts.
"I... I..." I can't speak.
He is strangling me, choking my lungs out as I struggle for air.
He mercilessly throws me on the bed after noticing my struggles to breathe, and I gasp for air and battle to steady my breathing, my hands nuzzling my neck, soothing the pain of his grip.
"I am fucking done with you, Ella! Let's see how long you'll will last in those dom rooms. You have exhausted all your chances, so don't come crying to me after!" He warns, and starts strolling out, his long heavy strides echoing with such fear that jerks me up from this bed.
"Wait, Ajay!" I howl his name, running before him.
Sometimes, being bold isn't just about standing your ground, but choosing what's best at the moment, especially when you don't have a choice. And this me - desperate, and without a choice. I need to survive in this evil place.
"I choose you!" I respond, without blinking, and without a second thought, but his next words wreck my hopes into the tiniest pieces.
"You wasted all your chances. You chose what's to come for yourself!"
What? No. No. No.
He attempts to walk away, but I fall to his feet, hugging his knees tight as tears sprinkle.
"Please! Please! I will do anything you want just, please, don't throw me to those beasts!" I cry, sitting on my legs and peeking up at his blurry tall frame through the sheer of tears in my eyes.
I thought he would nudge me aside and stomp out, but contrary, he leans his tall figure down, and grips me with one hand by the color, pulling me to my feet.
"Good! Now I hope you know the weight of your words!" He states.
I nod my head fast, avoiding blowing this last chance.
"I want to see you sprawled on the bed in the next two seconds - Naked!"
I almost leap at his words, but I realize I have no time to waste, and that I have no choice. I have to bear this disgrace and torture to avoid more torture and humiliation. I have to sacrifice my dignity to this monster that I loathe with every inch of me.
"You are a cold-blooded psycho! Get your filthy, bloodstained hands off me!" Through clenched teeth, Irma shrieked as she battled to liberate herself from the man's barbarous hold. His eyes were a refulgent inferno. They held an insidious fire of lust as they thrived deeper into her debilitated ones. "How flattering!" The man sneered, and Irma froze. A ripple of both ice and fire skint in her nerves at the man's vexatious riposte. Before she could amass any little bravery left in her, the man spoke again in a hoarse tremor, erupting a chill down her spinal tube. "But if you don't watch your sweet, dirty mouth, you snoopy, pesky brat, my third leg will shut it for you! Or maybe," he wavered, and fixed his dangerous, lascivious gazes on hers, gently stroking her hair as if petting his sweet, wild pet, "that is what you want, little dove?" A freelance journalist, flaming with ardent desires to unveil the secrets behind the series of mysterious disappearances happening in the city. Her hunch points her to the dark underworld of the mafia, and unfortunately, she crashes into LUCCA DE'MATTHEW-the other name for terror! Their encounter will evoke a catastrophe that only they can solve. But how, if their mere beingness is a menace to each other?
I spent years cleaning up a man. We were in love, or should I better say, I was in love, because in the end, that is what that shit felt. After all that I did for him, he heartlessly broke my heart. Found him in bed with our wedding planner two weeks to our wedding. And he had the balls to take pleasure in my pains. I almost became a murderer that night. Almost killed a man. I put the very first stain on my family's spotless name. My father could not take it. He distanced himself from me and stood a safe distance to watch the whole world rise against me. But in all these difficult and trying moments, one thing remained my solace and my beacon of all the good vibes that I yearned for-Joe Fredrick Montana. My stepbrother. And before we knew it, the connection bloomed into something we both never anticipated. It is wrong, yet so strong! It is forbidden, yet irresistible. For a while, none of us seemed to care about the consequences of our steamy undercover affairs, until something that threatens to tear everything between us and beyond happens. This, is our story!
Betrayed by her fiance and her family, Ellie thought, for a fleeting moment, that being tied down to a ghost she had never known was the only option. But that was until a wild thought banged her head. "Run, Ellie!" Her mind screamed. The heart is always right, they say, and at that point in her life, Ellie had no one to trust but her shattered heart. She ran into a new city, and as if fate had chosen to compensate her for all the sufferings she had gone through, she crashed with someone who swept her off her feet on their very first encounter. But months later, a call came through from home: "Ellie, my child. You need to come ASAP! Your father has been seriously ill. Your father needs you now more than ever." The voice of her nanny echoed through the line. The following morning, Ellie was once again packing her bags and saying goodbye to the love she had found. Finding her father on his sick bed and with a swam of doctors surrounding him broke Ellie's heart into a million pieces. And then came her father's plea in his sick bed. "My dear, I am giving you a choice out of this, but on one condition: that you have to meet your betrothed even just this once. Whatever you decide after that, I, your father, will respect your decision." This was what Ellie had always wished for, but given the situation, she knew she could not upset her father. She had to concede. But the moment her supposed ghost betrothed walked in, Ellie realized one thing: she had never known the face of betrayal until that particular moment!
“You are a cold-blooded psycho! Get your filthy-blood-stained hands off me!” Through clenched teeth, Irma shrieked as she battled to liberate herself from the man's barbarous hold. His eyes were a refulgent inferno. They held an insidious fire of lust as they thrived deeper into her debilitated ones. "How flattering!” The man sneered, and Irma froze. A ripple of both ice and fire skint in her nerves at the man’s vexatious riposte. Before she could amass any little bravery left in her, the man spoke again in a hoarse tremor, erupting a chill down her spinal tube. “But if you don't watch your sweet-dirty-mouth, you snoopy, pesky brat, my third leg will shut it for you! Or maybe," he wavered, and fixed his dangerous lascivious gazes on hers, gently stroking her hair as if petting his sweet wild pet, “Is that what you want, huh, little kitten?” A freelance journalist, flaming with ardent desires to unveil the secrets behind the series of mysterious disappearances happening in the city. Her hunch points her to the dark underworld of the mafia, and unfortunately, she crashes into LUCCA DE’MATTHEW - the other name for terror! Their encounter will evoke a catastrophe that only they can solve. But how, if their mere beingness is a menace to each other?
She got pregnant by the man she loved, but he left her. To protect the image of their family, Ayana Salma De’Mario was grounded and hidden like a bad omen, together with her child. Five years later, she knows only the walls of her room, her sweet five-year-old girl, her paintings, the young student she is teaching, and this mysterious ghost lover whom she has never met. But a tragedy strikes their family empire. In need of a savior, her family decided to trade the black sheep of the family to save their company. And in the picture enters the cold-hearted Adam Stone De'Leon, the most notorious heartbreaker the city has ever had. A proud womanizer who parades his sins as if they are crowns. But the moment he meets Ayana, something changes—something that leaves his walls in shambles. His heart starts beating for Ayana in ways he never imagined. He would go to any extreme to have her. Can she really resist him, or will she also make it to the list of uncountable women he has knacked and tossed aside like trash?
She was all alone, wallowing in divine grief and lamenting her losses. She had nothing to call her own, and all her wounds had refused to heal. She yearned for just one thing now—to disconnect from the cruel world. In the darkness, she closed her eyes, hoping to awaken in a place of tranquility—in heaven, surrounded by the beautiful souls she had lost. But to her bewilder, she found herself in bed the next morning with someone she would never have anticipated seeing again, especially in the darkest moment of her life—Liam Morgan Adams. Her ex. And he came with his own overflowing bucket of surprisal and sorrows that, for reasons best known to him, only Lynn could help him carry. "Bear me a child, Lynn. The price is yours to name.” He spoke, and everything in Lynn froze. A child! Her head spun some degrees, and when it settled, she squinted as the raw memories of her past pains surged in, fused with the memories of what they once had. And his constant, desperate plea left her between a rock and a hard place. Can she do this? Can this be her redemption? And Liam, why would a filthy, married billionaire ask for a child out of wedlock? And why Lynn, of all people?
Darya spent three years loving Micah, worshipping the ground he walked on. Until his neglect and his family's abuse finally woke her up to the ugly truth-he doesn't love her. Never did, never will. To her, he is a hero, her knight in shining armour. To him, she is an opportunist, a gold digger who schemed her way into his life. Darya accepts the harsh reality, gathers the shattered pieces of her dignity, divorces him, takes back her real name, reclaims her title as the country's youngest billionaire heiress. Their paths cross again at a party. Micah watches his ex-wife sing like an angel, tear up the dance floor, then thwart a lecher with a roundhouse kick. He realises, belatedly, that she's exactly the kind of woman he'd want to marry, if only he had taken the trouble to get to know her. Micah acts promptly to win her back, but discovers she's now surrounded by eligible bachelors: high-powered CEO, genius biochemist, award-winning singer, reformed playboy. Worse, she makes it pretty clear that she's done with him. Micah gears up for an uphill battle. He must prove to her he's still worthy of her love before she falls for someone else. And time is running out.
The whispers said that out of bitter jealousy, Hadley shoved Eric's beloved down the stairs, robbing the unborn child of life. To avenge, Eric forced Hadley abroad and completely cut her off. Years later, she reemerged, and they felt like strangers. When they met again, she was the nightclub's star, with men ready to pay fortunes just to glimpse her elusive performance. Unable to contain himself, Eric blocked her path, asking, "Is this truly how you earn a living now? Why not come back to me?" Hadley's lips curved faintly. "If you’re eager to see me, you’d better join the queue, darling."
"Never let anyone treat you like shit!" I learned that the hard way. For three years, I lived with my in-laws. They didn't treat me as their son-in-law but as a slave. I put up with everything because of my wife, Yolanda Lambert. She was the light of my life. Unfortunately, my whole world came crashing down the day I caught my wife cheating on me. I have never been so heartbroken. To have my revenge, I revealed my true identity. I was none other than Liam Hoffman—the heir of a family with trillions of dollars in assets! The Lamberts were utterly shocked after the big reveal. They realized what fools they had been for treating me like trash. My wife even knelt down and begged for my forgiveness. What do you think I did? Did I take her back or made her suffer? Find out!
It was supposed to be a marriage of convenience, but Carrie made the mistake of falling in love with Kristopher. When the time came that she needed him the most, her husband was in the company of another woman. Enough was enough. Carrie chose to divorce Kristopher and move on with her life. Only when she left did Kristopher realize how important she was to him. In the face of his ex-wife’s countless admirers, Kristopher offered her 20 million dollars and proposed a new deal. “Let’s get married again.”
She was a world-renowned divine doctor, the CEO of a publicly traded company, the most formidable female mercenary, and a top-tier tech genius. Marissa, a titan with a plethora of secret identities, had hidden her true stature to marry a seemingly impoverished young man. However, on the eve of their wedding, her fiance, who was actually the lost heir to a wealthy dynasty, called off the engagement and subjected her to degradation and mockery. Upon the revelation of her concealed identities, her ex-fiance was left stunned and desperately pleaded for her forgiveness. Standing protectively before Marissa, an incredibly influential and fearsome magnate declared, "This is my wife. Who would dare try to claim her?"
There was only one man in Raegan's heart, and it was Mitchel. In the second year of her marriage to him, she got pregnant. Raegan's joy knew no bounds. But before she could break the news to her husband, he served her divorce papers because he wanted to marry his first love. After an accident, Raegan lay in the pool of her own blood and called out to Mitchel for help. Unfortunately, he left with his first love in his arms. Raegan escaped death by the whiskers. Afterward, she decided to get her life back on track. Her name was everywhere years later. Mitchel became very uncomfortable. For some reason, he began to miss her. His heart ached when he saw her all smiles with another man. He crashed her wedding and fell to his knees while she was at the altar. With bloodshot eyes, he queried, "I thought you said your love for me is unbreakable? How come you are getting married to someone else? Come back to me!"