Ava John

Every story in this collection is a direct line to your own wanting, each read leaves you drenched, and craving more thighs pressed together, breath caught in your throat. From a stranger's fingers finding you in a crowded bar to the slow, devastating unraveling of a woman on her knees, these are the moments you'll return to, again and again, until you're trembling. Warning: "Not for the faint of heart-only for the Dirty Slut-Seekers who crave the filth. Open the book only when you're ready to be ruined, and consumed by your filthy fantasies.

"I am a low-ranking Omega, but my will is my own." They took everything from her. Her freedom, her pack, and her name. Sofia Fletcher has survived four years of slavery, a mate who rejected her for her own stepsister, and the kind of cruelty that teaches you never to hope. She has one rule left: trust no one. Then Draco walks into an auction house and takes her. He doesn't bid. He doesn't ask. He simply crosses a room full of bowed heads because when the most powerful being alive enters, everyone drops their eyes, and he takes her home. He is an Alpha King like no other. Werewolf. Vampire. Demon king. Dragon slayer. Immortal. And he has been searching for Sofia for years, because she is the one thing in his long, terrible life he cannot walk away from. His fated mate. Sofia wants nothing to do with him. She is an Omega the lowest rank in pack society with a dangerous secret buried in her blood, and a past that left scars no one is allowed to touch. Draco is patient, possessive, and impossible to ignore, and the mate bond humming beneath her skin is beginning to feel less like a curse and more like an answer. But Sofia's secret is the kind that gets witches killed. And Draco's world is full of enemies including the brother who wants to destroy him, and the father who will use anyone to take back what he lost. Falling for the Alpha King was never the plan but fate has it's own plan.

She was never supposed to be his choice. When the Voss family's empire crumbles under the weight of catastrophic debt, a deal is struck with the most powerful man in the room Xavier Holt the Billionaire, and CEO of The Holt empire. The kind of man who walks into a room and changes its temperature. Everyone expected him to choose Madison Voss, the beautiful, polished, perfect Madison the golden daughter who had spent her whole life being chosen first. He chose Nora instead. Nora, the overlooked one. The difficult one, the sister who asked too many questions, refused to perform, and had spent twenty-six years being everything her family wished she wasn't. The black sheep. She doesn't want this marriage. She doesn't want him. She wants him to choose Madison and let her go back to her small apartment, her plants, her romance novels, and the quiet life she'd built for herself in the spaces her family forgot to look. But Xavier Holt doesn't negotiate. He doesn't explain. And he absolutely does not change his mind.

Amy has enough problems. She's the new girl at Fieldman High, still grieving her parents, living with a brother who resents her existence, and now working at a coffee shop just to get by. The last thing she needs is Leo Calloway charming, infuriating, and the most performative person she has ever met - proposing that she pretend to be his girlfriend to make his cheating ex jealous. She says yes anyway. Because she's tired of being the girl things happen to. Because Michelle has made her a target. And because the arrangement comes with protection she didn't know she needed. What she doesn't agree to is falling for him. But somewhere between the fake smiles and the real conversations, between kitchen tables and difficult truths and Leo showing up every single time it counts, the line between pretend and real becomes impossible to find. And as Amy's carefully kept secrets begin to surface secrets darker, and more dangerous than anyone around her knows, she discovers that the boy who is her archenemy might be the only person she trusts with all of it. And that the coffee shop she walked into looking for a job might have given her something she has been missing her whole life. Some things, it turns out, find you exactly when they're supposed to.

Penelope is heartbroken when she gets to know that her fiance is going to get married to her step-sister Mireya who is already carrying his child. As she tries to pick up the broken pieces of her heart and move on she is forced to make a life-changing decision in order to save her grandpa's life from the clutches of her wicked stepmother. Tyrell Achilles is the man whom Penelope has to marry. He is rumoured to be a crippled, hot-tempered, cruel man with a damaged face and the son of the Achilles family which was once the wealthiest family in the country until they went bankrupt. After the wedding, Penelope realised everything was not what it looked like, but one thing was sure, she was going to use this opportunity to make every single person who betrayed her pay. She was going to ruin them till the very end but to achieve her goal, she must be able to thread through the traps and conspiracy unscathed. When she is on the verge of giving up, a hand is stretched out to her, and it is none other than that of her alluring husband Tyrell Achilles and he says these words to her gazing into her eyes. "I never thought this would happen but I'm in love with you, Pennie." Will she give love a chance or keep fighting the feelings she has for her enigmatic yet alluring husband?

Eleanor had no idea that crossing paths with Gannon Starks the popular CEO who would turn out to be her mate was about to make her life take a huge turn, changing who she thought she was and giving her a new set of responsibilities. Was she going to accept her true self and responsibilities or run away from them?

A collision of two worlds brought them together. Two single parents, with different personalities and distinct parenting styles. Playboy billionaire Henderson Bain is in search of a nanny for his daughter Itzel. Lena Cohen a single mother applies for the job though qualified, Henderson refuses to offer her the job because of their first encounter but seeing how Lena and Itzel get along, he decides to employ her. With their adorable kids in the picture, Lena and Henderson discover that they have much more in common, but they ignore all rising sparks and burning desires because of their past gruesome experiences with love. Will they finally let go of their past, and give love a chance? Or try to suppress their feelings for each other? And what if their past comes knocking at their doors once again?

To Aliyah Sanchez, love wasn't mere fantasy, it was a reality she had yet to experience. She had always dreamt about the day she would tie the knot with her prince charming after which they were going to live happily ever after. Well, until she found herself walking down the aisle to get married to her cousin's fiancé, the supercilious man she hated the most. Her cousin had eloped on the day of her wedding and she became her replacement. The fairy tale she had always looked forward to crashed before her the moment she heard 'Congratulations on being my wife Mrs Aliyah Marion Brews' Marion her just proclaimed husband whispered wrapping his hand around her waist. Her eyes burned with rage as she watched the grin that played on his lips. She was never going to love this man, he was the total opposite of her dream guy. Marion Brews was the city's heartthrob, sexy famous, wealthy, and charming but in Aliyah's sight, he was nothing more than an arrogant, cocky, spoilt brat. But for how long since they were now married... Were their feelings for each other going to change? Was there a chance for love between these two, especially when they got past the barriers they placed between each other? What would be their fate when people from their past resurface?

"Mason, Mr McGrath is your Father," Dr Ben let out. Stacey's brows creased, she pursed her lips in response to what she had just heard," You mean to say my boyfriend is my brother, how's that even possible?" She asked in stutters. When Stacey and her Sister Chelsey move to a new school, little does she know that there's a lot in store for her, secrets, lies and betrayals that had been kept in the dark are brought to light. Falling in love with the school's Golden boy Mason gets her into a situation she never wanted, makes her enemies with the school's most popular girls Scarlett and Camilla, also worsens the already strained relationship she has with her sister Chelsey.

Chloe had just given birth to twins, lying exhausted in a cramped, bustling hospital ward. When she called her husband, Julian, he was busy partying with his actress mistress. He coldly hung up on her, having already drafted a brutal divorce agreement that would leave her with a pittance. Strangers in the next bed loudly mocked her pitiful state, gossiping about how Julian was dumping her. For years, Chloe had erased her own identity to fit into his elite world, only to be thrown away like garbage. She was completely alone, clutching her helpless babies, bracing herself to sign the cruel papers just to survive. She couldn't understand why her absolute devotion was met with such chilling indifference. Why did she have to suffer this ultimate humiliation while he celebrated with the woman who ruined her life? But then, a senior doctor noticed a unique mole on her wrist and ran a secret DNA test. The results were staggering: Chloe was the long-lost daughter of the billionaire Beaumont family. With her fiercely protective parents and three powerful brothers suddenly forming an impenetrable fortress around her, Chloe picked up her phone and texted her arrogant husband. "City Hall tomorrow at 10 AM. If you don't show up, my lawyer will handle everything. And trust me, you won't like their terms."

Five years ago, I stood in the freezing rain at my mother's funeral, waiting for my husband. Blake Knight, the billionaire NHL superstar, was two hours late. When he finally showed up, he brought his rumored girlfriend, the woman he had just rented a hotel rooftop for to celebrate her birthday. Watching him defend her fake tears, my heart completely died. I took off my diamond wedding ring, placed it on my mother's headstone, and walked away from my marriage forever. I fled to London, changed my name to Ava, and secretly raised the triplets he never knew existed. I thought I was finally safe from him. But today, my kids vandalized a silver Aston Martin in our apartment's parking garage, and the owner caught my youngest daughter. My phone rang. The voice on the other end was Blake's. He had moved into my building, and he was holding my little girl in his penthouse, demanding her mother come get her immediately. Panic suffocated me. If I walked through that door, my five years of hiding would be instantly destroyed. He would recognize me, realize I didn't get rid of our child like everyone thought, and he would use all his power to take my babies away. I couldn't let him ruin my life again. "I'm just her nanny," I lied through my teeth. I frantically begged my best friend to go upstairs and rescue my daughter in my place. He bought the disguise, but now, the King of the Ice is dangerously obsessed with investigating my new identity.

She married him out of desperation, becoming the perfect docile wife while he treated her like dirt beneath his shoes. But everything shattered the night she overheard him mocking her with his friends-and discovered the necklace she'd cherished, her only link to the boy who once saved her life, didn't even belong to him. It was all a lie. No longer the doormat he married, she discards her fake identity and reclaims her birthright as the hidden heiress of Salvadore City. Now she's on a mission: find the necklace's true owner among his circle of friends, no matter how many hearts she has to break along the way. But her husband isn't ready to let go. Convinced she's playing games to make him jealous, he's blindsided when divorce papers land in his hands. By the time he realizes the woman he dismissed was never who he thought she was, she's already moved on-living her truth, chasing her destiny, and leaving him choking on regret. Some cages, once opened, can never be closed again.

My stepmother’s bodyguards were seconds away from dragging me back to a life that was essentially a prison cell wrapped in silk. I couldn't even scream for help because the words always died in my throat—a clinical condition called selective mutism that felt like drowning on dry land. I had just discovered the sickening truth: my father was planning to sell me to a sleazy investor named Sterling to cover his company’s bankruptcy. They were going to drug me, ship me off to a private island, and strip away the only thing I had left—my late mother’s multimillion-dollar art trust. When I arrived at the manor, my stepmother Lydia handed me a glass of wine laced with bitter sedatives, her smile sharp as a razor. "Drink up, darling. It’ll make the transition to Mr. Sterling much easier." My stepsister Harper stood in the corner, wearing a dress bought with my mother’s stolen money, mocking my inability to speak. My father didn't even look me in the eye as he calculated my price tag, treating his own daughter like a piece of damaged, mute inventory. They thought because I didn't speak, I didn't hear them laughing about the "accident" that killed my mother or how they planned to burn her final restoration work. They assumed my silence was a sign of surrender, a white flag waved by a broken girl who would never fight back. How could the people who were supposed to be my family treat me like a commodity to be traded? Did they really think my silence meant I was weak, or that I didn't know every dirty secret they were hiding in their ledgers? I didn't drink the wine. Instead, I burst into the VIP suite of Carlisle Pierce, the most cold-blooded billionaire in New York, and slammed a crumpled napkin on his table with a desperate, last-second gambit. "MARRY ME. NOW. $1 MILLION."

As I lay on the floor of our manor, bleeding out from a ruptured ectopic pregnancy, I used my last ounce of strength to call my husband, Cole. I begged him for help, my vision blurring. But the only thing I heard was the clinking of champagne glasses and his mistress's giggle in the background. "Stop the drama, June," Cole snapped, his voice cold. "We're about to go on stage. Don't call again." He hung up, leaving me to die alone on the Persian rug while he accepted an award with another woman on his arm. I woke up in the hospital days later. My baby was gone. They had removed my fallopian tube. Cole finally arrived, smelling of expensive scotch and his mistress's perfume. He didn't hug me. He didn't cry. Instead, he leaned over my hospital bed, pressing his knee into the mattress until my fresh stitches tore open and bled. "You embarrassed me by calling an ambulance," he hissed. "My mistress, Alycia, says you're faking it. Clean yourself up." He left me bleeding again to go announce a $10 million donation to Alycia's "groundbreaking" medical research. I stared at the TV screen, numb. The research Alycia was taking credit for? It was mine. I wrote that patent years ago under a pseudonym. They thought I was just a poor, orphan housewife who needed Cole's money to survive. They had no idea I was actually a billionaire scientist hiding my identity. I pulled the IV needle out of my arm. A drop of blood fell onto the divorce papers I had been hiding. I didn't wipe it off. I signed my name right over it. Then I walked into the bank, reactivated my dormant account with $128 million, and bought the penthouse directly overlooking Cole's house. The mourning widow is dead. The avenger is born.

I woke up on silk sheets that smelled of expensive cedar and cold sandalwood, a world away from my cramped apartment in Brooklyn. Beside me lay Ezra Gardner-my boss, the billionaire CEO of Gardner Holdings, and the man who could end my career with a snap of his fingers. He didn't offer an apology for the night before; instead, he looked at me with terrifying clarity and proposed a cold, calculated business arrangement. "Marriage. It stabilizes the board and solves the PR crisis before it begins." He dressed me in archival Chanel and sent me home in his Maybach, but my life was already falling apart. My boyfriend, Irving, claimed he had passed out early, yet his location data placed him at my best friend's apartment until three in the morning. When I tried to run, I realized Ezra was already ten steps ahead, tracking my movements and uncovering the secret I'd spent twenty years hiding: my connection to the powerful Senator Grimes. I was trapped between a CEO who treated me like a line item on a quarterly report and a boyfriend who had been using me while sleeping with my closest friend. I felt like a pawn in a game I didn't understand, wondering why a man like Ezra would walk up forty flights of stairs on a broken leg just to make sure I was safe. "Showtime, Mrs. Gardner." Standing on the red carpet in a gown that cost more than my life, I watched my cheating ex-boyfriend's face turn pale as Ezra claimed me in front of the world. I wasn't just an assistant anymore; I was a weapon, and it was time to burn their world down.

I was an intern nurse working exhausting shifts, yet my mother constantly forced me into blind dates with wealthy, arrogant men to secure our family's social standing. During a terrifying hospital lockdown, an assassin disguised as a doctor held a scalpel to my throat. I was almost killed, but a high-ranking military colonel threw his own body down a flight of concrete stairs to shield me. I survived with cuts and bruises, but when I went home, my mother didn't care about my near-death experience. She was only furious that I had rushed out on my blind date with Preston, a rich financial analyst. She forced me to meet him to apologize. When Preston grabbed my arm, bruised me, and mocked my attack as a pathetic lie, my mother still took his side. "Men get angry," she told me coldly. "It's your job not to provoke them. You will beg for his forgiveness, or you are no longer welcome in this house." I had narrowly escaped an assassin, yet my own family was willing to feed me to a monster just for a fat paycheck and neighborhood gossip. My heart went completely dead. So, when the intimidating Colonel appeared, offering me maximum military protection through a sudden marriage, I didn't hesitate. I walked back into my parents' house and calmly slapped a crisp marriage certificate onto the coffee table. "I won't be apologizing to Preston. I got married today."

On our third anniversary, my husband canceled our dinner, claiming a sudden work emergency. I tracked his phone to an exclusive French restaurant, only to find him tenderly fastening a blessed bracelet—one I had flown across the world to get for him—onto his college ex-girlfriend's wrist. The sheer shock triggered a violent placental abruption. Bleeding out in my car just across the street, I frantically called his number. Through the window, I watched him glance at his screen, frown in annoyance, and press decline to focus on his lover. While I was wheeled into a freezing operating room for an emergency C-section utterly alone, he took his mistress back to our marital bed. He didn't even bother to check if I was alive, completely oblivious that our premature daughter was fighting for her life in the NICU. I soon discovered our entire marriage was a sham. He had used my family's wealth to save his company, and now he was trading me to secure a massive business deal with his ex's father. The man I loved didn't exist; he only saw me as a disposable asset. "I'm going to make him wish he had never been born." After secretly securing my baby in a private retreat, I ordered a medical-grade silicone pregnancy belly to hide my flat stomach. I stepped back into our penthouse, ready to burn his precious empire to the ground.

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.

For seven years, I played the perfect fiancée and glorified personal assistant to Donavon Bray, the star forward of the New York Dynamos. But at a glittering charity gala, I overheard a conversation in the shadows of the terrace that shattered my world. "Getting engaged to Cordia was just a habit, a responsibility. Jocelynn is the one I've always wanted." Overnight, the media crowned Donavon and his newly returned childhood friend the golden couple. He paraded her around town, treating her with a chivalry and tenderness he never once showed me. He even publicly fired my loyal assistant, sneering to the entire front office that they needed "real professionals" like Jocelynn, not someone who just fetches coffee. My own best friend took to social media to side with them, mocking me as the "wrong time" in his epic romance. To Donavon, I was just a lucky "Puck Bunny," a clueless prop meant to stroke his ego and manage his schedule. He had no idea I was two months away from finishing my master's thesis in predictive data modeling at MIT. So, I took off my diamond ring, blocked his number, and quietly signed a contract to become the Chief Data Analyst for his team's biggest corporate rival. As I prepared to dismantle his multi-million dollar contract with my own algorithms, I was ready to show him exactly what a glorified assistant could do.