Glory T!na

The image of him being happy and loving with my best friend felt like betrayal. It felt like he had launched a knife into my heart while I was struggling to breathe. How could he betray me this way? How could he betray me with my best friend? "You said you loved me." I cried out and brushed the tears running down my face away. He stared at me, and the coldness in his eyes mirrored the one his mother always had for me. "That was my greatest mistake." I felt cold. ..... Once Imela believed love was enough, but not anymore. Love was just another lie that the weak believed in to keep them from seeing the truth: that there was no place for people like them in this world.

He rose and moved towards me, my heart picking up its pace with every step he took. His hand stroked the side of my face, causing a tingle to rush through me and I shivered into his touch just like earlier. He leaned in and his breath fanned over my face, hot, weakening and mind-numbing. "You should be running, Zera." he said with a voice so raw it made me shudder against him. "The most sensible thing to do is run from someone like me." "I don't want to run." I stubborn stated, worn out with his long game. It wasn't helping anyone. He wanted me, I could see that, and I wanted him too. His nose rubbed against mine, and he moved his forehead against mine. "Oh darling, but you should. I won't be like those little boys you've been with. I won't stop when you want me to. I won't stop until I'm completely buried in your mind and soul. You will belong to me."

"Take off your clothes, I want to see the body I'd be living with for the rest of my life," he commands, moving to the other side of the room where the red armchair was. She hesitated, and that displeased him. He growled, clearly infuriated. “Do you need some kind of motivation? Because you will not get it. Take off your fucking clothes!” he thunders, making her jump and her legs shake. With shaky hands and a trembling body, she grabbed the hand of the silk gown again and dragged it down. Her eyes stayed glued to the floor, not having the audacity to look up at the alpha king across the room from her. “You’re not done yet!” *** Mia Asika had wanted only one thing for the longest time, enlightenment and the freedom to travel the world in search of it. Mia's dreams however ended the day Ariel, her beautiful and fair older sister who was betrothed to the alpha king, died the night before her marriage and she became the last resort. Hated at sight, the alpha king moved to make her union to him that of misery. Can Mia's will for survival withstand the alpha king's cold and unloving nature? Love and Chaos series Book #1 The Alpha King's Ugly Bride Book# 2 His Forbidden Mate Book #3 The Alpha King's Runaway Bride Book #4 Alpha Koz: The Abnormal Alpha

The room is awfully quiet except for Keenan's laboured breath and my heavily pounding heart. His hands are planted on his hips and his eyes fixated on the ceiling as if he's thinking about all the regretful things he's done in his life. Why does this it feel like the beginning of another disastrous road? "What's wrong?" I ask in panic, because I wonder if he's also recollecting the events that happened last night in part like I am and regretting it. "Apparently we did more than get drunk last night," He lift the paper certificate from the bar counter and shows it to me, "we got married."

She rubbed her forehead profusely, "You do, you could walk away and save yourself now and I will be fine and I will understand." He glanced at her and his gaze locked and there was a level of sincerity in them, "If I save myself, who's going to save you?" ***** Jasmin Whyte was a twenty-six-year-old thief who ran away from her boyfriend after she caught him cheating, an excuse to finally leave her old life behind and start over, but when she discovered that she was two weeks pregnant for her him, she began back to her old ways. It wasn't long before she fell into trouble which was how she ran into billionaire Cainan Inferno and her life took an unexpected turn. Cainan Inferno was a thirty-three-year-old Billionaire and the CEO of The Inferno group which was the largest company in the country. He once had it all with money and looks, but his life took a sour turn after he lost his wife Neriah Gomez to cancer. Meeting Jasmin Whyte sparked the feeling he thought was long dead and he knew the only one capable of helping him move on from his late wife was her. He tracked her down and made her an offer she couldn't refuse while ignoring all the threats her past posed to his name, reputation and social status. All he asks in return was for her to steal his heart. Will she be able to do the one thing he asks or will she lose her heart in the process?

*No one messes with fire and goes unburnt.* "Twenty four hours is my most generous offer to you." He says with no trace of pity in his tone. Her eyes widen, "But that's unfair." "Unfair is demolishing the house on you while you're still inside and believe me that's what I'm going to do if you don't get lost in twenty-four hours." She scoffs"You're unbelievable." "Being unbelievable is what has brought me here today." He agrees with a nod. "And being an idiot is what will take you to where you will be tomorrow, cause you might be a billionaire, but you sure are an idiotic one." Cainan Inferno is a self-made billionaire and since he worked for everything he has, he doesn't do well with insult from people, especially those that are not his class. So what happens when poor Neriah Gomez cross the line with Cainan and calls him an idiotic billionaire before his staff? Will he do to her like he has done to the rest or will the cold-hearted monster choose to let it go??

"You really think I'm playing around?" He grounds at me through gritted teeth and he takes a step closer and I begin to move back. "I gave you a strict instruction and you disobeyed, you chose to rebel." There is about one zillion comeback running through my head, but my brain only focuses on the man whose green eyes has somehow turn into black because he's mad at me. "Do you know what happens to rebellious people?" I keep moving back until my back hit the wall and I hiss out in frustration. I swallow hard and try not to look at him, pissing him off would be a good thing when we aren't the only ones in the whole house. "Do you?!" He demands with a roar. "No, I don't. Tell me." I say, hiding the trembling of my voice as I look up at him. He takes a firm step close to stand intimately close to me, his height making me feel like a little child. "They get punished." *** The arrangement was, I get to meet her, propose to her, we get married as that would create a stronger bond d the two business associates, bringing us together as a family. Falling in love with her personal assistant was never part of the arrangement.

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.

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.

The thunder cracked over the Hamptons, but it was nothing compared to Elena Sharp's scream. She lay twisted on the marble foyer, accusing me of trying to kill her baby. My husband, Julian, walked in, saw the scene, and his eyes froze me out of his life forever. He didn't listen, shoving a separation agreement across the desk, accusing me of murder. Stripped of my name and home, I was thrown out, left with nothing but my clothes and a terrifying secret growing inside me. My accounts frozen, I ended up in a crumbling Philadelphia row house, forced to pawn heirlooms. During a fire, my water broke, and I delivered our premature daughter, June, whose lungs were damaged. I stole formula to feed her, facing massive medical bills. Accused of destroying an heir, I was exiled while carrying his true legacy, fighting for every breath. The injustice burned, but June's life was my only fight. Three years later, June needed life-saving surgery. Julian's dying grandmother called me back with the funds, forcing a cruel charade with the man who hated me, a man still oblivious to his daughter.

The silence in St. Patrick's Cathedral wasn't peaceful; it was a physical weight on Stella's shoulders, heavier than her wedding dress. She stood alone at the altar, ready for her perfect life, when her phone vibrated with a text that shattered everything. Her fiancé, Bryce, messaged just moments before the vows: "I can't do this. Monica needs me. I'm sorry." Monica, her maid of honor, was the reason he fled. Bryce's mother then publicly shamed Stella, implying her career ambition drove him away. The betrayal of her sacrifices, her future, and her dignity ignited a white-hot rage. Stella ripped off her veil, grabbed the microphone, and exposed the groom and maid of honor's affair to the stunned guests before storming out. A furious wreck in her ruined gown, she stumbled on the cathedral steps, meeting Julian Sterling, the "Cursed Son" in a wheelchair. He offered no pity, only a detached assessment. In a defiant, adrenaline-fueled moment, Stella crouched and asked, "Are you single?" Julian, needing a strategic alliance against his family, agreed to a cold, transactional marriage of convenience. With the City Clerk's office hours ticking down, Stella tore her dress, determined to forge a new path of vengeance and desperate necessity.

Vivian clutched her Hermès bag, her doctor's words echoing: "Extremely high-risk pregnancy." She hoped the baby would save her cold marriage, but Julian wasn't in London as his schedule claimed. Instead, a paparazzi photo revealed his early return-with a blonde woman, not his wife, at the private airport exit. The next morning, Julian served divorce papers, callously ending their "duty" marriage for his ex, Serena. A horrifying contract clause gave him the right to terminate her pregnancy or seize their child. Humiliated, demoted, and forced to fake an ulcer, Vivian watched him parade his affair, openly discarding her while celebrating Serena. This was a calculated erasure, not heartbreak. He cared only for his image, confirming he would "handle" the baby himself. A primal rage ignited her. "Just us," she whispered to her stomach, vowing to sign the divorce on her terms, keep her secret safe, and walk away from Sterling Corp for good, ready to protect her child alone.

Serena Vance, an unloved wife, clutched a custom-made red velvet cake to her chest, enduring the cold rain outside an exclusive Upper East Side club. She hoped this small gesture for her husband, Julian, would bridge the growing chasm between them on their third anniversary. But as she neared the VIP suite, her world shattered. Julian's cold, detached voice sliced through the laughter, revealing he considered her nothing more than a "signature on a piece of paper" for a trust fund, mocking her changed appearance and respecting only another woman, Elena. The indifference in his tone was a physical blow, a brutal severance, not heartbreak. She gently placed the forgotten cake on the floor, leaving her wedding ring and a diamond necklace as she prepared to abandon a marriage built on lies. Her old life, once a prison of quiet suffering and constant humiliation, now lay in ruins around her. Three years of trying to be seen, to be loved, were erased by a few cruel words. Why had she clung to a man who saw her as a clause in a will, a "creature," not a wife? The shame and rage hardened her heart, freezing her tears. Returning to an empty penthouse, she packed a single battered suitcase, leaving behind every symbol of her failed marriage. With a burner phone, she dialed a number she hadn't touched in a decade, whispering, "Godfather, I'm ready to come home."

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.

My husband promised me forever, but gave me endless lies. On our anniversary, I found his secrets on social media, exposed by his mistress. He didn't just break my heart; he broke my entire world. Seraphina sat alone in her opulent mansion, preparing their anniversary dinner, feeling the suffocating weight of her cold, hollow marriage. An Instagram post from Tiffany Sloan then brazenly revealed Harrison's hand at a romantic dinner, shattering his flimsy excuses and exposing his blatant infidelity. The betrayal turned Seraphina's despair into cold resolve. He gaslighted her, dismissed her pain, and reminded her she was "nothing." He chose his mistress over her dying brother, caused her to break an ankle, and finally abandoned her on a desolate street corner, stripped of dignity. How could she have sacrificed her entire violin career for a man who so casually discarded her? Under that bridge, her foolish love died, leaving only a fierce desire for reclamation. Shivering and alone, a faded flyer for a violin teacher caught her eye. It was a defiant whisper of her old self, a promise: Seraphina Vanderbilt was gone, and a new Seraphina was finally free.

Sera stood at the altar, ready to renew vows with Lucas Sterling, a public declaration of their solid marriage. But in that holy silence, Lucas answered his phone, his voice booming, "Naomi? I'm coming." He then turned, eyes cold, declaring, "It's over," abandoning her mid-ceremony. The crowd gasped. His family humiliated her, calling her "trash." He then cut off all her money, stranding her in a downpour. The cruelest blow: his sister revealed Lucas had gossiped about Sera's deepest trauma-a past kidnapping-mocking her belief he was her savior. This betrayal shattered Sera's loyalty, replacing pain with cold rage. How could he expose that secret? And why did powerful Julian Thorne appear, whispering, "I've known who you are for a long time," as if privy to her past? With her last attachment severed, Sera pulled out her encrypted phone. Her voice chilling, she commanded, "Target Sterling Supply Chain. Initiate Phase One: Disruption." Her counterattack had begun.

My wealthy husband, Nathaniel, stormed in, demanding a divorce to be with his "dying" first love, Julia. He expected tears, pleas, even hysteria. Instead, I calmly reached for a pen, ready to sign away our life for a fortune. For two years, I played the devoted wife in our sterile penthouse. That night, Nathaniel shattered the facade, tossing divorce papers. "Julia's back," he stated, "she needs me." He expected me to crumble. But my calm "Okay" shocked him. I coolly demanded his penthouse, shares, and a doubled stipend, letting him believe I was a greedy gold digger. He watched, disgusted, convinced I was a monster. He couldn't fathom my indifference or ruthless demands. He saw avarice, not a carefully constructed facade. His betrayal had awakened something far more dangerous. The second the door closed, the dutiful wife vanished. I retrieved a burner phone and a Glock, ready to expose the elaborate lie he and Julia had built.