Authoress Charity

"This is wrong, Tristan..." Her heart races rapidly as she steps away from him and walks back until her back is pressed hard against the wall. "Come on, Tracy... We both know you want this," The corner of his lips twitches into a smirk as he finally traps her between his arms while staring at her as though he'll devour her anytime soon. "Do you really want me to stop, hmm?" Nuzzling his head on her neck, and trailing his hand on her bare inner thigh, he whispers against her neck, driving her to the edge of craziness. "I'm...I'm..." "Tell me you want me, Tracy, and I promise to make you feel so good like no man ever did to you before," He nibbles on her earlobe, and she gasps sharply. "I want you, Tristan..." Those words slips out of her mouth before she can stop them. That was all the permission needed to pin her to the bed...

Shirley Wilson grew up in an abusive home, where she had to feed on her tears with each day that passes by. Hoping that her life would get better as time goes by, it only became worse after she was sold to a stranger by her stepfather. She was sad that she was sold, but was also happy that she has finally left the horrible world of her stepfather. Thinking that her life would change when she gets to her home, she was horrified to find out that she wasn't going to work as a maid as she thought earlier, but there was something more horrible waiting for her. A life she never imagined she would ever live, an awful fate that only existed in fictional world. She was sold not to become a maid, but a baby breeder to the billionaire, Dylan Wilfred and his wife, Wendy Lee. Will she ever get out of her horrible nightmare?

Evelyn Jones has always had a passion for her job as an accountant in Turner's empire, a successful business company. However, her passion for her job changed after she met the arrogant son of her boss, who was to become the new CEO. She thought that she'll be able to hold it in and keep working with them, however, she was mistaken as her psycho boss wouldn't let her be, nor give her the sack letter that she so much desired. Will she be able to cope with her new boss?

"You're a slut, Nadia. I hate you!" Trevor yells at the top of his voice, grabbing the flower vase on the mirror stand, and smashing it on the ground. "You think you're different from all of them? Do you think you're different from all those bitches I sleep with? Hell no, Nadia!" He yells again, glaring hard at her. "Don't you dare, Trevor! Don't you dare talk to me in that manner. Don't you dare call me names, you heartless beast! Do you have a conscience at all? Do you have a heart...." "One more word from you Nadia, and I'll make sure you regret the day you were born. For your damn information, I don't have a conscience. I don't have a heart," The corner of his lips slowly twitches into a smirk as he emphasizes his statement. "I thought you loved me..." "I never said I did... We were horny, and we satisfied each other. Whatever happened between us, is not based on some feelings shit, it was all fun," Nadia watches her with a broken heart as tears trickle down her cheeks. "And that thing inside you... You think it's mine? Were you by chance thinking that I'm going to take responsibility for that thing you're carrying? That's never going to happen, is either you get rid of it, or you go to hell with it. I don't care if you die or not, that's your problem to deal with. You're not my type my kind of woman, Nadia," And with that, he grabs her roughly and throws her out of his room, slamming the door hard on her face. Where is she going to start this journey of hers? How will she cope with the pregnancy? Staring at the closed door, her whole world comes crashing down before her eyes...

Living a simple life has always been her dream, but her life became a misery after she made the biggest mistake of becoming a substitute bride for the sake of her best friend. Chloe Orlando is a young orphan that lived with her only friend, after the death of her late parent. Her life took another turn when she had to pose as Jeffrey Ramos' bride on his wedding day, in the place of her best friend. She thought it was just a one time thing, but what happens when her life and career is now at stake, and the only way to save herself is to marry the young billionaire for real? Do you think she'll be able to cope in the marriage, especially knowing that his heart still belongs to her best friend?...

Octavia, a beautiful and strong werewolf, was born into the family of Zaid, an omega type of werewolves, the lowest ranking werewolves in Dark Moon pack. For the fear of going through the brutal pains of being an omega, her parents decided to keep her birth a secret from the outside world, as the only one who knew about the poor girl's existence after the parents, is Lia, the Alpha's surrogate mom. She was locked inside the house for twenty years, not seeing the outside world. No friends, no other families, just she and her poor parents. She always sneaked out in the night to get fresh air, and all these time, she made sure to not stay out long, to avoid being caught, as it'll end her poor parents in trouble. On this fateful day, her whole life turned into a misery, as she went out, but got caught by a stranger, who turned out to be their Alpha, whom she had seen a couple of times, but never got to see his face. To punish her and the parents, the Alpha decided that her parents should be killed, to justify their crime, but what happens, when the little Octavia, got consumed by her power, and her demon took over her, right in front of the Alpha, which is something that had never happened in history?

Vesper's marriage to Julian Sterling was a gilded cage. One morning, she woke naked beside Damon Sterling, Julian's terrifying brother, then found a text: Julian's mistress was pregnant. Her world shattered, but the real nightmare had just begun. Julian's abuse escalated, gaslighting Vesper, funding his secret life. Damon, a germaphobic billionaire, became her unsettling anchor amidst his chaos. As "Iris," Vesper exposed Julian's mistress, Serena Sharp, sparking brutal war: poisoned drinks, a broken leg, and the horrifying truth-Julian murdered her parents, trapping Vesper in marriage. The man she married was a killer. Broken and betrayed, Vesper was caught between monstrous brothers, burning with injustice. Refusing victimhood, Vesper reclaimed her identity. Fueled by vengeance, she allied with Damon, who vowed to burn his empire for her. Julian faced justice, but matriarch Eleanor's counterattack forced Vesper's choice as a hitman aimed for her.

Trigger/Content Warning: This story contains mature themes and explicit content intended for adult audiences(18+). Reader discretion is advised. It includes elements such as BDSM dynamics, explicit sexual content, toxic family relationships, occasional violence and strong language. This is not a fluffy romance. It is intense, raw and messy, and explores the darker side of desire. ***** "Take off your dress, Meadow." "Why?" "Because your ex is watching," he said, leaning back into his seat. "And I want him to see what he lost." ••••*••••*••••* Meadow Russell was supposed to get married to the love of her life in Vegas. Instead, she walked in on her twin sister riding her fiance. One drink at the bar turned to ten. One drunken mistake turned into reality. And one stranger's offer turned into a contract that she signed with shaking hands and a diamond ring. Alaric Ashford is the devil in a tailored Tom Ford suit. Billionaire CEO, brutal, possessive. A man born into an empire of blood and steel. He also suffers from a neurological condition-he can't feel. Not objects, not pain, not even human touch. Until Meadow touches him, and he feels everything. And now he owns her. On paper and in his bed. She wants him to ruin her. Take what no one else could have. He wants control, obedience... revenge. But what starts as a transaction slowly turns into something Meadow never saw coming. Obsession, secrets that were never meant to surface, and a pain from the past that threatens to break everything. Alaric doesn't share what's his. Not his company. Not his wife. And definitely not his vengeance.

Aurora woke up to the sterile chill of her king-sized bed in Sterling Thorne's penthouse. Today was the day her husband would finally throw her out like garbage. Sterling walked in, tossed divorce papers at her, and demanded her signature, eager to announce his ""eligible bachelor"" status to the world. In her past life, the sight of those papers had broken her, leaving her begging for a second chance. Sterling's sneering voice, calling her a ""trailer park girl"" undeserving of his name, had once cut deeper than any blade. He had always used her humble beginnings to keep her small, to make her grateful for the crumbs of his attention. She had lived a gilded cage, believing she was nothing without him, until her life flatlined in a hospital bed, watching him give a press conference about his ""grief."" But this time, she felt no sting, no tears. Only a cold, clear understanding of the mediocre man who stood on a pedestal she had painstakingly built with her own genius. Aurora signed the papers, her name a declaration of independence. She grabbed her old, phoenix-stickered laptop, ready to walk out. Sterling Thorne was about to find out exactly how expensive ""free"" could be.

The roasted lamb was cold, a reflection of her marriage. On their third anniversary, Evelyn Vance waited alone in her Manhattan penthouse. Then her phone buzzed: Alexander, her husband, had been spotted leaving the hospital, holding his childhood sweetheart Scarlett Sharp's hand. Alexander arrived hours later, dismissing Evelyn's quiet complaint with a cold reminder: she was Mrs. Vance, not a victim. Her mother's demands reinforced this role, making Evelyn, a brilliant mind, feel like a ghost. A dangerous indifference replaced betrayal. The debt was paid; now, it was her turn. She drafted a divorce settlement, waiving everything. As Alexander's tender voice drifted from his study, speaking to Scarlett, Evelyn placed her wedding ring on his pillow, moved to the guest suite, and locked the door. The dull wife was gone; the Oracle was back.

The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her. Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. ""Mr. Kensington,"" the nurse's voice cracked, ""your wife... she's critical."" A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. ""Liam is in the shower,"" Seraphina's voice purred. ""Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low."" Then, Liam's bored voice: ""If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning."" Click. The line went dead. A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living. Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body. Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back.

My husband Julian celebrated our five-year anniversary by sleeping with his mistress. He thought I was a clueless trophy wife, too dim to notice the vanilla and tuberose scent on his expensive suits. He was wrong. For years, I played Mrs. Vance, hiding my brilliance while Julian claimed my patents. An anonymous email confirmed his ultimate betrayal: photos of him and Scarlett Kensington in ecstasy. My heart didn't break; it solidified into ice at five years wasted. I activated "The Protocol" for a new identity and escape countdown. Playing the doting wife, I plotted his downfall, catching him with his mistress selling my work, and publicly snapping his credit card. His betrayals and stolen work ignited a cold, calculated fury. He had no idea the monster he'd created. I was dismantling his empire. I shredded his patent papers, stripping him of his ill-gotten gains. With a final tap, I initiated "Identity Erasure." Mrs. Vance was dead. Dr. Evelyn Thorne had just begun her counterattack.

Sienna Sullivan entered the penthouse not as a bride, but as a business transaction to pay off her family's debts. Manhattan's most ruthless billionaire, Julian Vanderbilt, expected a submissive wife, but he purchased a woman who was secretly a global fashion icon and a lethal operative. When he finally tried to lock her in a gilded cage to "protect" her, Sienna didn't just walk away-she jumped from his moving Rolls-Royce to reclaim her own crown. The arrangement was a psychological prison. Julian paraded fake heroines in her face, never realizing Sienna was the "Ghost," the soldier who had already saved his life in a war zone years ago. While she bled in the shadows to keep his empire from crumbling, he dismissed her as a mousy tutor. The humiliation was absolute as her family mocked her as a "charity case" and Julian treated her like a fragile doll. He ignored the warrior who was the true power behind his throne, choosing to prioritize his own secrets over her safety. She realized Julian didn't want a partner; he wanted a possession to hide in a vault. The discovery that he would never trust the woman beneath the mask was the final betrayal. He only loved the version of her he could control. Sienna finally chose to burn the bridge. After neutralizing an assassin in a designer gown, she tossed her wedding ring into a puddle and vanished into the night. She wasn't running from the fire; she was going back to the desert to finish the war. The Queen has left the board, and the King is coming for blood.

Stella Judd worked hard for her entire life, in return, she only got endless deception and oppression and died without dignity. However, she was reborn with time turning back. She vowed to never again let anyone who had bullied her get anything out of her. She got away from a very vicious family and got rich by her own hands. Nevertheless, she felt in love with a cripple. Although he was a cripple, Stella wanted to protect her husband and live in peace, but she didn't expect that her crippled husband suddenly turned into the distinguished Prime Minister! What's more, not only he was not lame anymore, but also he walked with her through life and death.

Her sister is marrying her ex. So she brings her best friend as her fake fiancé. What could possibly go wrong? Savannah Hart thought she was over Dean Archer-until her sister, Chloe announces she's marrying him. The same man Savannah never stopped loving. The man who left her heartbroken... and now belongs to her sister. A weeklong wedding in New Hope. One mansion full of guests. And a very bitter maid of honor. To survive it, Savannah brings a date-her charming, clean-cut best friend, Roman Blackwood. The one man who's always had her back. He owes her a favor, and pretending to be her fiancé? Easy. Until fake kisses start to feel real. Now Savannah's torn between keeping up the act... or risking everything for the one man she was never supposed to fall for.

For three years, I documented the slow death of my marriage in a black journal. It was my 100-point divorce plan: for every time my husband, Blake, chose his first love, Ariana, over me, I deducted points. When the score hit zero, I would leave. The final points vanished the night he left me bleeding out from a car crash. I was eight weeks pregnant with the child we had prayed for. In the ER, the nurses frantically called him-the star surgeon of the very hospital I was dying in. "Dr. Santos, we have a Jane Doe, O-negative, bleeding out. She's pregnant, and we're about to lose them both. We need you to authorize an emergency blood transfer." His voice came over the speaker, cold and impatient. "I can't. My priority is Miss Whitfield. Do what you can for the patient, but I can't divert anything right now." He hung up. He condemned his own child to death to ensure his ex-girlfriend had resources on standby after a minor procedure.