Ms Grace

Flora Morgan lost everything in one day. Her boyfriend dumped her on live television for another woman. Minutes later, she was fired from her dream job over an embezzlement scandal she knew nothing about. Now she's drowning in debt, public humiliation, and a reputation that may never recover. Then she meets Tyler Sinclair. The NHL's most feared player. Cold, arrogant and tattooed. The man the media calls The Devil on Ice. Tyler offers her a deal, fake date him, and he'll compensate her monetarily and with a brand deal any woman would kill for. She refuses. But after one reckless night and one humiliating mistake, Flora finds herself trapped in Tyler Sinclair's world anyway-a world filled with cameras, obsession, jealousy, and ruthless rivalries. And the more their fake relationship convinces the world, the more dangerous it becomes for both of them. Because Tyler has enemies waiting for him to lose control and somewhere between the lies, the headlines, and everything in between. They're forgetting this was never supposed to be real.

"The things I want to do to you..." his voice dropped, rough and low. I smiled, daring him. "Do it. I dare you, Daddy." A flicker of danger crossed his eyes. "Vieni qui, amore mio." Come here, my love. And just like that, I forgot every reason I was supposed to stay away. ***** Have you ever fallen in love with your mother's fiancé-only to discover he craves you too? Sin, right? Yeah, that's me. Melissa Spencer. A college student, an aspiring photographer, and an anonymous erotica writer by night. Having Ben Gavin... the billionaire hockey captain and CEO of the world's top team-as my stepdad was enough to keep me on edge. Craving his touch? That's another level of sin. When financial ruin forces my mother and me into his penthouse, I swear I can resist him. But things only get worse when his dangerously charming son vows to claim me too. Now I'm caught between a hot hockey stepdad, a sexy F1 racer stepbrother, and an obsessed ex-biker boyfriend. What happens when I find out everyone's been living a double life-including my own mother?

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."

I was once the heiress to the Solomon empire, but after it crumbled, I became the "charity case" ward of the wealthy Hyde family. For years, I lived in their shadows, clinging to the promise that Anson Hyde would always be my protector. That promise shattered when Anson walked into the ballroom with Claudine Chapman on his arm. Claudine was the girl who had spent years making my life a living hell, and now Anson was announcing their engagement to the world. The humiliation was instant. Guests sneered at my cheap dress, and a waiter intentionally sloshed champagne over me, knowing I was a nobody. Anson didn't even look my way; he was too busy whispering possessively to his new fiancée. I was a ghost in my own home, watching my protector celebrate with my tormentor. The betrayal burned. I realized I wasn't a ward; I was a pawn Anson had kept on a shelf until he found a better trade. I had no money, no allies, and a legal trust fund that Anson controlled with a flick of his wrist. Fleeing to the library, I stumbled into Dallas Koch-a titan of industry and my best friend's father. He was a wall of cold, absolute power that even the Hydes feared. "Marry me," I blurted out, desperate to find a shield Anson couldn't climb. Dallas didn't laugh. He pulled out a marriage agreement and a heavy fountain pen. "Sign," he commanded, his voice a low rumble. "But if you walk out that door with me, you never go back." I signed my name, trading my life for the only man dangerous enough to keep me safe.

Lillian woke in a werecreature universe as a total loser. Good news was that women ruled here and could take multiple mates, yet she still ended up as the one everyone looked down on. Compared to her talented sister at every turn, she watched her first match get stolen and her next four mates reject her without mercy. The first mate was the King of Succubine himself. On their very first meeting, he warned Lillian that he was only staying long enough to recover from his injuries-and that there could never be anything between them. The second mate was a merman. He took one look at her and said he had no interest in a loser like her, tossing her some cash so she could break off their bond herself. The third mate was the progenitor vampire-over a thousand years old. He admitted to admiring her sister instead and made it clear he had no interest in a layabout like Lillian. Lillian cut every bond and chose her own path instead. But as she rose higher and higher, those same men returned, full of regret and begging her to look at them again. The fourth mate was a werewolf Lillian had rescued from an underground fighting ring. She thought he might actually stay-until he revealed himself as royalty. And of course, he wanted to break their bond for more power.

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.

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.

For three years, Cali Sullivan abandoned her brilliant tech career to be the quiet, accommodating wife of billionaire Halsey Donovan. But on her thirtieth birthday, she returned to their London mansion only to find it empty. The housekeeper, looking at her with deep pity, revealed that Halsey had taken his female friend, Brittaney, out shopping to celebrate her birthday instead. He had even taken their young daughter, Lily, with them. When Cali called him, Halsey coldly dismissed her, his attention entirely on Brittaney's bright laughter in the background. The crushing blow came the next morning when Cali stood outside Lily's bedroom and overheard her own daughter's innocent wish. "I wish Auntie Brittaney could be my new mommy. I think Daddy would like that, too." Later that afternoon, Cali saw them through the window of a private club. Halsey was wiping a smudge from Lily's face with a tender focus he never showed his wife, while Brittaney casually fed him cake. They looked like the perfect, happy family. All of Cali's desperate love and sacrifices felt like a cruel joke. She had been entirely erased from her own family. In that moment, the agonizing pain just stopped, replaced by a cold, absolute clarity. Cali drafted a divorce agreement waiving every cent of his wealth, left her platinum wedding rings on the nightstand, and booked a one-way flight back to New York. She was no longer Mrs. Donovan; it was time to get her real name back.

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.

Kayla stood outside the CEO suite, holding a custom suit for her fiancé, Brennon. They had spent seven years building a tech company from a freezing garage into a billion-dollar empire. But through the cracked door, she heard the breathy laugh of Evelin, the newly hired director. Then came Brennon's low, careless voice. "The wedding's a PR milestone for the IPO, nothing more." Kayla's blood turned to ice. "She's comfortable. Makes sense on paper," Brennon continued. "But you, Evelin. You understand ambition." The betrayal hit her like a physical blow. She had written the core code that made him a billionaire. She had stayed up until 4 AM debugging while he slept on a futon. Now, he was mocking their relationship to his mistress and handing over her life's work to a woman who couldn't even read a data log. Seven years of loyalty, reduced to a PR stunt. She didn't cry. Instead, a cold, violent clarity washed over her. Why should she let him keep the crown she forged? Without a word, she pulled the three-carat diamond off her finger and dropped it into her bag. She walked out of the building, drafted her resignation, and accepted a VP position at his biggest Wall Street rival. It was time to show Brennon what happened when the real genius behind his empire decided to tear it down.

Ava had been married to Wall Street titan Damian Carlisle for three years, an orphan chosen by his late grandmother solely to provide an heir. But at the matriarch's funeral, Damian stood intimately before the flashing cameras with his childhood sweetheart, Isabelle. The entire elite family deliberately excluded Ava, leaving her standing alone in the shadows. The guests whispered about how perfect Damian and Isabelle looked together, completely ignoring the actual wife standing right there. To Damian, Ava was nothing more than a piece of inherited furniture he didn't know where to place. Realizing she was just a discarded placeholder, Ava quietly left the estate and sent him divorce papers. But Isabelle secretly intercepted the legal documents to keep Damian in the dark. Enraged when he finally discovered her escape, Damian tracked Ava down to her shabby Brooklyn rental. He smashed through her door, physically dragged her out in the middle of the night, and forced her back to the sprawling estate. He installed new locks on the reinforced windows, pinned her to the bed, and coldly commanded her to fulfill her biological duty. "You owe this family, Ava. You were given everything, and this is how you will repay that debt." Trapped in the dark, a chilling despair washed over her as she realized a piece of paper could never free her. Against his absolute wealth and power, her rights and her tears meant absolutely nothing. But as her gaze fell on the corporate financial reports she had been secretly analyzing, her fear vanished. If the law couldn't beat him, she would use the only language he understood. She would accept the executive position at his rival's firm, dismantle his empire piece by piece, and personally ruin him.

Chloe Beaumont thought she had a perfect life, until she woke up tied to a metal chair in a freezing warehouse. A hitman forced her to watch a live stream of a lavish wedding, where the groom was her fiancé, Braden, and the bride was her beloved stepsister, June. Through the screen, Braden coldly revealed their master plan. He had never loved Chloe; he only wanted her wealth and connections, while June was always his true prize. They had framed Chloe for insider trading to destroy her reputation and steal her company for pennies on the dollar. To add to the ultimate betrayal, June was already pregnant with Braden's child. "Finish her, and make sure it's clean." Braden ordered over the phone, claiming her worthless life was their final wedding gift. As the hitman plunged a knife into her heart, Chloe's despair morphed into pure, all-consuming hatred. How could the two people she trusted most build a perfect life entirely on top of her grave? Why had she been so blindly foolish to dismiss all their lies and coincidences as paranoia? Opening her eyes again, the agonizing pain and the grimy warehouse were completely gone. She was sitting in a luxurious hotel suite, dressed in expensive silk pajamas. It was exactly six years in the past, on the morning of her arranged wedding to the feared billionaire Damian Montgomery. This was the exact day June had tricked her into jilting Damian at the altar to run away with Braden. This time, Chloe smiled coldly, ready to walk down the aisle and drag her betrayers into an ocean of despair.