Meet Zina Aurelius - a master of control and composure. A world-class cardiothoracic surgeon, the perfect wife on paper, and the mother of a little girl who means more to her than anything else. Her marriage is a transaction, her emotions locked away, and her life meticulously arranged - until one moment threatens to unravel everything. Her daughter meets him first. Giovanni Russo. A man who moves through the world like he owns it - all quiet dominance and undeniable presence. The kind of man Zina has spent a lifetime avoiding. But to her daughter, he's a fascination. A favorite. A force she runs to without hesitation. And the way he looks at Zina? It's nothing short of dangerous. She tells herself it's nothing - that their worlds won't intertwine. Until she finds out her husband answers to him. Now, Gio is everywhere - watching, waiting, pushing her toward something she's not sure she can resist. He doesn't ask for permission. Doesn't pretend to be anything less than a man who takes what he wants. And the way he looks at her? Like he sees the parts of her she's kept buried for too long. After years in a loveless marriage - trading passion for security, desire for duty - Gio is a fire she isn't ready for. One that threatens to consume everything she's built. But the question isn't if she'll burn. It's how long she can stand the heat.
The morning light sliced through my curtains like an unwelcomed guest - bright, insistent, and entirely too early. I ignored it, as one does with most unwanted things.
Unfortunately, my phone had other ideas. It buzzed against the glass surface of my nightstand, rattling like it had something important to say. Spoiler alert: it didn't.
I reached for it with the grace of someone who'd been performing surgery until well past midnight and squinted at the screen.
A message from John. How thrilling.
John: Flying to London tonight. Don't wait up.
Ah, John. Ever the considerate husband - sparing me the agony of his presence with his usual efficiency. I tapped out a quick reply.
Me: Didn't plan on it.
I dropped the phone and turned back into my pillow, pulling the sheets up to my nose.
Soon enough, the day would begin, and I would be required to carry on my infinite duties and responsibilities.
But for now -
The sound of small, determined footsteps echoed down the hall.
The door burst open without so much as a knock, and my five-year-old daughter made her entrance - bold, commanding, and utterly unapologetic.
Alina always entered a room like she owned it, which I found both impressive and vaguely terrifying.
"Mommy," Alina announced, her tiny figure framed in the doorway like a very short queen. "I want pancakes."
I cracked one eye open. She stood there in her pajamas, dark curls a glorious tangle, clutching Sir Reginald Flopsy - her long-suffering stuffed rabbit - by one floppy ear with the iron grip of a war general. Her expression was grave. Negotiations had begun.
"Why be needy today of all days when neither your aunty nor your nanny is around?" I asked, my voice still rough with sleep.
"Because you're my mommy," she climbed onto the bed and sat on my back, tugging at the bed cover.
"And what makes you think I'm making pancakes?"
"Because you love me," she said without hesitation.
Hard to argue with that level of self-awareness.
I sighed, turned over and brushed a wild curl away from her face. "One day, you're going to use your powers for evil."
She grinned, entirely unfazed. "But not today."
Ten minutes later, I was standing in the kitchen, hair twisted by a heatless curler, A thin, short satin robe tied loosely around my waist.
The morning light filtered through the towering glass windows, bathing the sleek marble countertops in a soft glow. The quiet hum of the espresso machine filled the air, blending with the scent of butter and batter.
I flipped pancakes with the kind of efficiency one acquired after years of handling scalpels and saving lives.
Alina sat at the kitchen island, legs swinging under the stool, conducting an animated conversation with Sir Reginald.
"Mommy," she began, her voice serious. "Do you think princesses get bored?"
I glanced over at her, eyebrow arched. "Bored of what?"
"Of being princesses." She propped her chin on her little hand. "They always wear fancy dresses and go to balls, but that sounds kinda boring if you do it all the time. What if they just want to wear pajamas and eat pancakes?"
"Maybe that's why they sneak out of castles so much," I said, flipping the last pancake.
"Exactly!" She brightened, delighted. "They just wanna wear comfy clothes and go on adventures."
"And eat pancakes."
"Yes!" She pointed at me like I'd cracked a code. "Do you think I'd make a good princess?"
I took a seat in the chair next to hers as I considered her. "You'd make a terrible princess."
Her mouth dropped open in outrage. "Mommy!"
"You hate brushing your hair." I shrugged. "And princesses probably have to brush their hair every day."
She gasped. "Every day?"
"Every single day," I said solemnly. "And they can't wear hello kitty pajamas to breakfast. It's all gowns and tiaras, all the time."
Alina's face scrunched in contemplation. "That sounds like too much work."
"Exactly. You're much better off staying here and being my baby."
She grinned, clearly pleased with this alternative. "Okay, I will if you give me more pancakes"
"Deal."
I picked my phone as we slid into silence. Messages upon messages poured in nonstop from work, only one caught my attention...
Maria: Hi, Dr. Zina. Sorry to bother you this early. I know you just got off some hours ago, but Mr. Russo called in not too long and said he would be coming in for his weekly follow up. Just to remind you.
Maria: That and you have a few consultation sessions. Nothing heavy. Thanks
I set my phone down, not sparing the message another thought. Alina, on the other hand, had finished her pancakes with impressive speed and was now using her fork to dramatically gesture at Sir Reginald Flopsy.
"Sir Reginald thinks I should wear my pink dress today," she announced, eyes full of morning mischief.
I took a sip of my coffee, unimpressed. "Sir Reginald has no say in this household."
Alina gasped, scandalized, clutching the rabbit to her chest like I'd just threatened his life.
If only I had been warned earlier the dramatic gene would be passed on
"Mommy!"
"Sweetheart, it's a school day, not a royal ball. You have uniform for a reason. Wear it."
She huffed but hopped off the stool, making her way to her room with the slow, tragic steps of a child facing great injustice. I let her have her moment.
By the time we were out the door, she'd mostly recovered, switching gears entirely to a long-winded debate on what I couldn't even understand. I let her carry the conversation, adding the occasional hum of acknowledgment as I navigated the morning traffic.
At school drop-off, she leaned forward for a kiss, her tiny hands pressing into my cheeks to hold me still. "Bye, Mommy! Don't let the bad guys get you."
I arched a brow. "What bad guys?"
She considered, then gave a dramatic little shrug. "I dunno. Just be careful."
I tapped her nose. "Go. You're already late."
She scampered off, Sir Reginald bouncing in her grip as she rushed to meet her friends. I waited until she disappeared into the building before pulling away, sliding seamlessly from mother to doctor as I headed for the hospital.
By the time I walked in, the chaos of the morning had settled into its usual rhythm. Maria caught sight of me and gave a quick nod.
"Dr. Zina, Mr. Russo's expected in an hour. Also, Dr. Lewis needs a consult on a post-op case."
"Noted." I glanced at my watch. "Anything else?"
Maria hesitated. "Your husband called the main desk earlier. Wanted to confirm you'd be at the gala with Alina this week."
"What did you tell him?"
"That you were in surgery and unavailable."
"Good answer."
Maria smirked. "Figured as much."
Three years ago, Cecilia was left battered and alone by the man she loved most, Alston, yet she bravely completed the wedding ceremony while pregnant. Three years later, although they were married, they grew apart over time. Cecilia focused on her career, no longer foolishly believing in love. But her transformation instantly threw Alston into a panic... And what is the secret from 11 years ago that Cecilia has always been reluctant to reveal? *** "She went to a law firm, met with a lawyer..." A lawyer? Is Cecilia suing someone? Who? Is there any recent litigation against the company? Alston suddenly chuckled coldly, "Who could she sue? I'm the CEO of this company. How come such a matter doesn't come to me first?" The assistant swallowed nervously, speaking softly, "Sir, there's no litigation against the company. She met with... a divorce lawyer."
For ten years, Daniela showered her ex-husband with unwavering devotion, only to discover she was just his biggest joke. Feeling humiliated yet determined, she finally divorced him. Three months later, Daniela returned in grand style. She was now the hidden CEO of a leading brand, a sought-after designer, and a wealthy mining mogul—her success unveiled at her triumphant comeback. Her ex-husband’s entire family rushed over, desperate to beg for forgiveness and plead for another chance. Yet Daniela, now cherished by the famed Mr. Phillips, regarded them with icy disdain. "I’m out of your league."
Linsey was stood up by her groom to run off with another woman. Furious, she grabbed a random stranger and declared, "Let's get married!" She had acted on impulse, realizing too late that her new husband was the notorious rascal, Collin. The public laughed at her, and even her runaway ex offered to reconcile. But Linsey scoffed at him. "My husband and I are very much in love!" Everyone thought she was delusional. Then Collin was revealed to be the richest man in the world. In front of everyone, he got down on one knee and held up a stunning diamond ring. "I look forward to our forever, honey."
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!"
For as long as Emily can remember, she has wanted to overcome her shyness and explore her sexuality. Still, everything changes when she receives an invitation to visit one of the town's most prestigious BDSM clubs, DESIRE'S DEN. On the day she chose to peruse the club, she noticed three men, all dressed in suits, standing on the upper level, near the railing. Despite her limited vision, she persisted in fixating on them. Their towering statues belied the toned bodies concealed by their sharply tailored suits-or so she could tell. The hair of two of them was short and dark, and the third had light brown-possibly blond-hair that reached the shoulders. The dark, crimson background incised their figures, exuding an air of mystery and strength. They stood in stark contrast to the unfiltered, primal energy that pulsed through the club. Shocked by the desires these men aroused in her, she was disappointed to learn that they were masters seeking a slave to divide and conquer. She couldn't afford the fee, and she also realized that they were outside her league. Emily hurriedly left the club, feeling disappointed and depressed, unaware that she had also caught the group's attention. A world of wicked pleasure, three handsome men. Over the years, they have lived a life of decadence, their lavish lair serving as a stage for their most sinister desires. But despite the unending parade of willing subjects, one woman sticks out. A mysterious stranger with white porcelain skin and a killer body, a slave, a name with no address, the first lady to attract their eye and they will go to any length to obtain her no matter the consequences.
They don't know I'm a girl. They all look at me and see a boy. A prince. Their kind purchase humans like me for their lustful desires. And, when they stormed into our kingdom to buy my sister, I intervened to protect her. I made them take me too. The plan was to escape with my sister whenever we found a chance. How was I to know our prison would be the most fortified place in their kingdom? I was supposed to be on the sidelines. The one they had no real use for. The one they never meant to buy. But then, the most important person in their savage land-their ruthless beast king-took an interest in the "pretty little prince." How do we survive in this brutal kingdom, where everyone hates our kind and shows us no mercy? And how does someone, with a secret like mine, become a lust slave? . AUTHOR'S NOTE. This is a dark romance-dark, mature content. Highly rated 18+ Expect triggers, expect hardcore. If you're a seasoned reader of this genre, looking for something different, prepared to go in blindly not knowing what to expect at every turn, but eager to know more anyway, then dive in! . From the author of the international bestselling book: "The Alpha King's Hated Slave."