Prince Of Hell

Jayzee was already at the office at seven o'clock Monday morning. His whole family was not there yet because their flight back was just now. He did nothing all weekend but watch sports on the cable channel and swim in the pool. he was not in the mood to go to the club so he stayed at the condo for those two days. For the first time in his adult life, I think he had some 'me' time. He was still far away when he saw the bright light near his room. he saw Anikka sipping her coffee while looking at the screen monitor and her back leaned on her swivel chair. He thinks it's getting better every day. He also noticed that he had lost his innocence and that his gaze was no longer as intense as before. "Good    morning,"    he greeted her. It seemed that he was surprised by his appearance which he did not expect because it was still early. "Good morning," he greeted back. "Coffee?" offer it to him. He sat on the edge of her table and smiled. "Would you allow me to sip on your coffee cup?" he asked. Every time he attracts her, she quickly makes an excuse to avoid it. But he will not allow it to be just like that. As time goes on, he is more and more challenged by this woman who doesn't seem to care about his charisma. "No," he answered quickly making him smile even more. "Why not?    I don't have a contagious disease." "I'll just make you," he answered. But before he could stand up, he took the papercup and brought it to his lips. "Iced coffee in the morning?" he frowned as it must have been cold. He immediately placed the glass on the table. "I prefer cold," he replied. He waits for the girl to take it to drink. Maybe he was embarrassed so he was forced to take a sip again. "Now you just tasted my lips, sweetheart," he said smiling while still holding the glass. He also saw the reddening of her face. "How does it taste?" "Coffee taste," he just shrugged his shoulders and focused his eyes on the screen again. he was even more irritated by her reactions. He quickly stood up and headed to his office. "We'll talk about my schedule today, Anikka," he said while walking. In less than five minutes, he entered his office holding a ballpoint pen and some folders. he stood up and sat on the edge of the table in front of it. "What's my schedule for today, sweetheart?" "You only have three meetings today because Mr. del Mundo suddenly canceled yesterday," he answered. "Yesterday was Sunday, Anikka." "He called at my number," he answered, making her frown even more. "He's calling you off office hours?" He gave Anikka a company phone for her to use. he lost his mind that clients would use to call him even when he was out of work. "Just to cancel the meeting today," he immediately explained. "Is Oliver calling you often?" he immediately asked, referring to the supplier who was often now in front of his table. "Sort of." He shrugged his shoulders again. He cursed the secret. "Add to my schedule later my visit to Zenclub at six o'clock," he said and returned to the swivel chair. "You're going with me," he added. "It's not during work hours, Jayzee," he denied as she expected. he ignored it but started to open the folders he was carrying. "You will take the minutes of the meeting from now on," he also ordered that his father's secretary used to do. "You'll be with me at the conference room later." "Suddenly, I guess?" it said with a smile. He, on the other hand, frowned in annoyance at the thought of always talking to Oliver when he was not in the office. "That's part of your job as my secretary. I didn't just give birth to you right away because you were new." "Okay, boss," he seemed to be teasing him because he was still smiling while he was serious. "Do you need anything else?" "I need a coffee," he said without looking at the girl. "Hot or cold?" it asked. he looked at her and saw that she was amused by the visible annoyance in him. "I don't drink cold coffee, sweetheart." He stared at it intently. "I want it as 'hot' as you." He emphasized the last word but she still didn't react. He disappeared into his office for a while before he returned with a cup of coffee. "Here's your hot coffee, sir," he teased. He stood up and met her. "Is this as hot as you?" he asked comfortingly and purposely took her hand as he handed her the cup. If he thought he would be alone in the teasing, he was mistaken. And if that Oliver thinks that he will be ahead of the girl, he is also mistaken. he's not Jayzee Albano if other men can outdo him. "You decide," he replied while waiting for her to sip the coffee to answer his question. "I can't decide yet," he said after taking a sip. the truth is that he was slightly burned because the coffee was still hot. But he has to stand by what's in his mind. "Why not?" it seems like a challenge to him.

He despises me... From head to toe... Despite his incredibly handsome face, his unusual sharp tongue speaks volumes. The perfect shape of his body screams that I'm unfit for him. His red and thin lips only know how to utter, "stay away!" In his deep eyes symbolizing strictness, all my flaws and mistakes are reflected. Considered very intelligent, but to me, he's a handsome fool! Because he dislikes me, pushes me away, mocks me, avoids me, and sometimes shouts at me. He sees me as a person with a contagious disease. My stay in their happy home is like a colossal and devastating collapse of his world. He is Lucas Eion Jimenez, and I am Cara Isabelle Mendez—this is my story and my unwanted existence.

"Vincent, Mama is looking for you. Aren't you going home?" Athan asked the twins. I faced Ethan, who was staring at the girl next to him at the bar. "Nope. I'm busy," he said absentmindedly. I just shook my head. Ethan remained focused on the girl's thigh beside him. Damn playboy. "Ah, okay. I'm leaving then. Text Mama, okay?" Athan bid farewell. Without a word, he walked away, leaving me dumbfounded, watching him go. "You like my bro?" Ethan teased. I faced him before taking another sip. "Like is for kids, Ethan," I rolled my eyes. Shortly after, a tray of shot glasses arrived. It was placed in front of us. He smiled at me before locking eyes. "Oh, then love?" he chuckled. I took a shot glass before shaking my head again. I rolled my eyes. "Like, duh! Yuck, you believe in that?!" "Hell, no. Of course not," he replied. I glanced at him before nodding. "At least we have something in common," I said, taking another shot. He followed suit. "Really, I thought girls like you believe in fairy tales. Like Mr. Right," he teased, barely holding back laughter. I choked on my sixth glass before shaking my head. "You say that again, and I swear, I will make you shut up," I said in irritation. Ethan's thoughts about fairy tales and Mr. Right disgusted me. Did I look like a naive twelve-year-old girl? "Oh, you can't make me shut up, baby," he arrogantly replied, moving his face closer. I inched mine towards him too. "Wanna bet?" I challenged. His lips quirked up, mischief gleaming in his green eyes. He stood up and approached me. "Sure. If I win, you'll stay at my pad tonight," he confidently said. I resisted the urge to blush at his words, meeting his gaze. "And?" "And I will rock your world, babe."

"Jazz! I miss you!" A literal shout happened on the phone call between the two because it had been a long time since they last talked. My catching up with Jazz and Frances was interrupted when there was a knock, and Frances's mom and dad entered her room. "Frances?" her Mommy asked, so she turned to face them. "Are you busy? Can we talk to you for a minute?" Her mom spoke gently while looking at her. Frances bid farewell to her best friend, promising to meet later, before facing her parents. "Yes, mommy?" "Child," her mom cleared her throat, glancing at her husband. "You're getting married." Frances blinked several times before the words sank in. You're.. Getting.. Married.. Frances sighed, remembering what happened a few days ago. She couldn't comprehend it. She wasn't even eighteen yet! "Francey, Don't be depressed na," her best friend comforted. "Besides, you know your future husband, right?" Jazz teased. That's what annoyed Frances the most about all this. Of course, she knows who! Her groom-to-be is none other than the guy she hates the most! He's Jiro Martine, Jazz's older brother and the most annoying guy in her life!

"Boss, she's here." The leader of the long-lost PSG turns out to be an English-speaking grasshopper! That's probably why he didn't acknowledge her earlier, because he couldn't understand her. The man with his back turned slightly nodded in recognition. After that, they were left alone in that spacious room. Hannah smirked, knowing she was in trouble with this cocky Boss of the gangsters. It was a big mistake to untie her hands. Even though this Boss was towering and broad-shouldered, he wouldn't stand a chance if they were to wrestle. Yes, she'd hit him repeatedly until he coughed up coins. The audacity of dragging her in front of his people! No one could do that to her! "So, you're the Boss, face me then! What do you want from me?!" she yelled fearlessly, even though his henchmen were just outside. The man didn't respond. This only infuriated her more. "You're so arrogant! I told you to face me!" The man placed the red-wine-filled glass he was holding onto the side table nearby. She was getting annoyed because he seemed indifferent to what she was saying. After displaying that power in front of her, he acted like he wanted her to kneel just for a bit of attention? Of all things she disliked, it was people like him—arrogant and full of self-importance just because they were rich! "If you think I'm scared of you because of the number of your henchmen outside, you're wrong! If you don't want to get hurt, release me now!" No answer. Damn it. Did it have to be in Spanish? "When someone talks to you, you face them, okay? Are you an alien? Can't you understand english? Do you want me to kick you??" She noticed his hands clenching, probably irritated by what she said. He slowly turned towards her. Her jaw dropped literally. Her eyes widened. She blinked ten times. Sweat started forming on her forehead even though the room was cool. Those intelligent brows... Those firm and arrogant lips... And the icy cold stare... Is this for real? It's like he was ripped from the pages of the Prince of Hell magazine and brought to life before her, Prince of Hell #2 in flesh and breathing. Goodness gracious! Not just her jaw, even her heart, liver, and kidneys fell for him! Her whole system went into a riot, because the man she'd desired for a long time was right in front of her now!

She's cruel. She's cold. She's Beautiful. She's Powerful. And she badly needs a boyfriend! Sabrina is your typical fierce lady boss with an attitude. Despite physical perfection and above-average IQ, she's a No Boyfriend Since Birth virgin. She doesn't care, she doesn't need a man anyway. But she has a school alumni to attend. She needs a boyfriend to show off. So she hired the best-looking poor guy she has ever laid eyes on. Almost perfect. But what if her hired boyfriend isn't really poor? And what if he's part of the elite club called PRINCES OF HELL, a list of all ruthless yet dazzling billionaires around the globe? And he's not asking for money as payment.

I shook my head before looking at myself through the mirror again. I just did a little touch-up and decided to go out again. It would be embarrassing if I kept Damian waiting there. He seems like a nice guy. We've only exchanged a few words, but I immediately sense his goodness. He doesn't seem like a man who judges a woman solely by her appearance. I hope we'll get along. A smile appeared on my lips as I left the powder room. Even from a distance, I could see our vacant table. The food we ordered was already there. But Damian was nowhere in sight. Where could he be? Maybe he's in the restroom? When I reached the table, I sat down. I scanned my vegetable salad and grimaced. It doesn't look appetizing. Damian's burger looks much better. But minutes had already passed, and there was no sign of Damian in front of me. I was starting to feel a pang in my heart for an unknown reason. I looked around, hoping to catch a glimpse of him, but it didn't happen. The waiter who served us earlier accidentally passed by my side. "Excuse me!" He turned to look at me, approaching with questioning eyes. "Yes, Ma'am?" "My c-companion earlier, d-did you see him?" He took a moment to think, as if trying to recall. With every passing second of his contemplation, my heart pounded even harder. "Oh! Yes, Ma'am. I saw him leave earlier. He seemed to be in a hurry. He's the handsome one, right?" I nodded. "Did he say anything or leave any instructions?" I didn't pay much attention to what the waiter was saying when my phone rang again. From the illuminated screen, I saw a message from Damian that shattered my heart into pieces. Damian: I'm sorry, Sandra. It's nice to meet you, but I don't think we'll work out. Eat the burger I ordered, instead. It's for you. Don't worry, your bill's already taken care of. Take care."

For ten years, I was the perfect, obedient wife to my wealthy husband, managing his severe OCD and hosting flawless high-society parties. But on our tenth anniversary, when I brought him his special hangover soup, I caught him sleeping with my younger sister in our master bedroom. Instead of panicking, he coldly handed me divorce papers with zero assets. He told me I was just a "placeholder" until my sister finished her degree and was ready to take my spot. Desperate, I called my mother for help, only to find out she had known about their affair for years. "You don't have Jana's drive or her looks. You clean house and you cook. That's not a wife, that's a domestic." My own mother sneered at me, telling me to walk away quietly because our family needed his financial support. They kicked me out of the penthouse with nothing but a suitcase, laughing that a woman who hadn't worked in a decade would end up begging on the streets. I bled for this family for ten years, only to be thrown away like garbage when my sister wanted my life. But they didn't know that while I was playing the boring housewife, I had secretly earned a Cordon Bleu diploma, a Cornell nutrition certification, and a Columbia master's degree. Using a hidden photo to blackmail a property out of him, I packed my elite credentials and landed a $300,000-a-year job managing a billionaire's estate. When my ex-husband drunkenly called days later demanding I come back to serve him, I calmly hit block.

For five years, I abandoned my status as the heiress of the powerful Montgomery family to play the role of a poor, submissive housewife for Barrett. Then, a bank notification popped up on my phone. Barrett had forged my digital signature and transferred our entire $50 million joint trust fund to a woman named Crista Reid. When I called his boardroom to confront him, he humiliated me in front of a dozen Wall Street executives. "Stop acting like a hysterical housewife. You're living in a penthouse I pay for, so don't embarrass yourself." I broke into his encrypted laptop and uncovered the sickening truth. Crista was his mistress, and they had a five-year-old son together. Barrett hadn't just stolen my money; he had spent years painting me as a helpless charity case he rescued, completely erasing the fact that my financial models built his entire company. He thought I was just a discarded peasant he could manipulate, cheat on, and replace. He truly believed he held absolute power over my life. He had no idea that I still possessed the highest security clearance of the Montgomery empire. I pulled an old BlackBerry from a hidden wall compartment, plugged it in, and dialed my family's lawyer. "Draft the prenup for Commodore Clayton IV," I ordered, choosing to marry Wall Street's most ruthless predator. "I'm done playing the peasant."

For four years, Ellyn was the scarred, despised wife of billionaire Baron Hudson, enduring his cruelty with silent devotion. But one night, after brutally forcing himself on her, he threw divorce papers at her bruised chest. "Did you really think I could ever stomach looking at that hideous face of yours for the rest of my life?" He kicked her out into the freezing rain because his flawless true love, Christine, was finally coming home. To ensure Ellyn suffered, Baron froze all her bank accounts, wanting her to starve on the streets until she begged for his mercy. Penniless and shivering in a rundown apartment, Ellyn discovered she was pregnant with his child, right as the news broadcasted him lovingly welcoming Christine at the airport. Her heart died completely. She had given him ten years of her life, only to be thrown away like garbage. But a shocking miracle happened: the intimate trauma had somehow triggered a biological cure, completely peeling away the ugly scar that had ruined her face for twenty years. If the ruthless Hudson family found out she was healed and carrying the heir, they would steal her baby and destroy her. Instead of taking his five-million-dollar hush money, Ellyn tore the contract to pieces, hid her newly flawless face, and vanished to Paris. Four years later, the Hudson family's grand banquet was brought to a dead halt by a stunning, untouchable woman in a red trench coat and her genius three-year-old son. Ellyn was back, and she wasn't the ugly duckling anymore.

Scarlett Hayes thought marrying James Whitmore would finally make her family see her as more than a burden. Instead, it destroyed her life. Framed for crimes she didn't commit, betrayed by the people she trusted most, and sentenced to prison while pregnant, Scarlett lost everything in a single night. Then came the cruelest blow of all. After giving birth in chains, she was told her baby had died. The people responsible believed she would spend the rest of her life rotting behind bars. They were wrong. Five years later, Scarlett returns. No longer the discarded daughter of the Hayes family. No longer the broken woman they left behind. Now she is Commander Scarlett Hayes-a decorated war hero, the unseen force behind a global intelligence empire, and a woman powerful enough to make governments tremble. She comes back for one reason only: revenge. Her ex-husband, the stepsister who stole her life, and the family who buried her alive are about to learn exactly what happens when a woman with nothing left to lose takes back everything they stole. But as Scarlett tears through the secrets of her past, one truth threatens to change everything- the child she mourned for years may not be dead. And the mysterious man connected to the night that changed her life has been watching from the shadows all along.

On her wedding night at The Plaza Hotel, Clara went looking for her husband. Instead, she found him in the dimly lit parking garage, passionately pinning down her bridesmaid. She couldn't even scream or expose them. Just hours before the ceremony, Julian had tricked her into signing away her twenty percent shares of their co-founded company, leaving her completely penniless and unable to pay her grandmother's life-saving medical bills. Fleeing in absolute despair, a sudden hotel blackout plunged her into a second nightmare. She was dragged into a pitch-black room and brutally violated by a heavily drugged stranger. When a shattered Clara returned to the office to audit the books and reclaim her power, Julian demoted her to a dusty desk by the trash cans. He flaunted his mistress in the executive suite and deliberately sent Clara into a horrifying trap. He arranged for vicious clients to drug and assault her, demanding high-definition blackmail photos so he could divorce her with absolutely nothing. "Since you want to play rough, you can service Mr. Petrocelli tonight," the thug sneered, locking the VIP room door. Clara was pushed to the brink of hell. Why was the man she devoted three years of her life to trying to destroy her so completely? And why did the freezing cedarwood scent of the stranger who ruined her in the dark perfectly match Conrad Vance, the ruthless CEO and Julian's untouchable uncle? Rather than let Julian win, Clara smashed a glass bottle, held the jagged edge to her own throat to force the men back, and threw herself off the second-floor balcony into the freezing night. But the bone-crushing impact never came. A massive figure shot out from the shadows and caught her, and her brutal counterattack finally began.

My four-year-old daughter was dying of leukemia, waiting desperately for a bone marrow transplant. I begged my billionaire husband to just call the registry or visit her, but he claimed he was too busy with board meetings to care. Until the hospital informed me that my daughter's life-saving bone marrow had been suddenly reallocated to another patient. When I walked down the VIP hallway, I found my husband. He wasn't at a board meeting. He was gently peeling an apple, playing the loving father to his widowed mistress's daughter. When my pale, sick daughter called out for him, he instinctively stepped back in disgust. I later discovered the mistress had bribed the hospital to swap the registry numbers, stealing my daughter's marrow for her own child. When I demanded a divorce, my husband laughed in my face. "You haven't worked a day in four years. You're a purchased asset. You don't get to walk away." He threatened to freeze my accounts, assuming I would be starving on the streets and begging to come back. His family and the mistress publicly mocked my background, waiting for me to be utterly humiliated. They thought I was just a useless, penniless housewife who relied entirely on his last name to survive. They didn't know I never needed a single cent of his money. I packed my bags, took my daughter, and made a single phone call. Three days later, at his family's elite banquet, my husband waited to see me beg. Instead, the most powerful corporate magnate in North America walked right past him, bowed to me at a perfect ninety-degree angle, and spoke. "Welcome back to the throne, Madam."

For two years, Clementine played the perfectly obedient wife to billionaire Donovan Bray, wearing his heavy diamonds and enduring his cold indifference. Until she accidentally saw his tablet and discovered she was just a "collateral asset"—a cheap lookalike prop hired to make his ex-girlfriend, Gisela, jealous. When Gisela returned to New York, Donovan's mask completely slipped. During a vicious argument where he mocked Clementine as a pathetic shadow, he grabbed her, causing her to fall down a flight of marble stairs. Waking up in the hospital, Clementine learned she had miscarried a six-week-old baby she didn't even know she had. But what truly shattered her was hearing Donovan's voice through the cracked hospital door. "It changes nothing." He coldly lied to his friend that the fall had caused permanent infertility. "It was probably for the best." He had killed her unborn child and casually dismissed her worth, truly believing she was a penniless nobody who would suffer his abuse in silence. He thought he held all the power, leaving her broken and discarded for his true love. What Donovan didn't know was that his fragile, dependent wife was secretly "C.", the billionaire genius behind Aurelian, the world's most exclusive luxury jewelry empire. Lying in the sterile room, Clementine dried her tears, filed for a ruthless divorce, and permanently froze his supplementary black card. It was time to show him who really held the strings.

They say what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, mine didn't. I came back with a marriage certificate bearing a stranger's name, a ring worth more than my parents' love ever was, and a son whose father I've never seen, never known, never remembered. I went to Vegas for a racing competition. I won. I celebrated. And somewhere between the victory and the sunrise, my life changed forever. For six years, I've lived with the consequences of one reckless night. I built an empire. I raised my son. And I searched for the man who changed my life without even knowing it. Then fate laughed in my face. My sister married my ex-fiancé-the man I was promised to since childhood. The man I was supposed to become Mrs. Windsor for. The man who now wears my family name... and looks far too much like my child. Every time I'm near him, the past presses closer. Every glance feels like a question I'm terrified to ask. I shouldn't notice him. I shouldn't feel anything. He is my sister's husband. But some secrets refuse to stay buried. Because the truth about Vegas isn't just in the ring on my finger or the child in my arms. It's standing right in front of me. And when it finally comes out, it won't just destroy a marriage, it will burn an empire to the ground.

On my wedding day, my fiancé Connor received an urgent phone call. He told me a D-list actress had broken her leg on set, then abandoned me right at the altar. In my past life, I cried until my throat bled, begging him not to leave. But my tears only brought endless humiliation. My mother and adopted sister mocked me, framed me, and forged my signature to steal my multi-million dollar trust fund. They kicked me out of the family estate without a single dime. I ended up freezing to death in the minus-twenty-degree New York blizzard, listening to my mother's voicemail telling me to die in the street as long as I didn't bleed on her carpets. Until my last breath, I couldn't understand why my own blood relatives hated me so much, yet treated an adopted daughter like a precious princess. The only person who showed me any mercy—draping his wool coat over my frozen corpse and giving me a proper burial—was Connor's ruthless, untouchable uncle, Harding Snow. Opening my eyes again, I was back in the bridal suite, right as Connor was rushing out the door. This time, I didn't shed a single tear. I let him run to his actress, then walked straight into the VIP room to face the most feared billionaire on Wall Street. "The wedding proceeds as planned, but the groom's name changes to yours."

To revenge herself on her unfaithful fiancé Kevin, Isidora hides her striking beauty behind a plain disguise, and targets his uncle - the most formidable man Kevin fears. After one reckless night, Isidora leaves cash as payment and says lightly, "You were good last night." She tries to leave quietly, but is pulled into his arms. "You think you can walk away after this?" he says, his tone low and possessive. Cedrick is a feared, untouchable titan on Wall Street - elegant, aloof, and completely uninterested in women. Not even the most beautiful socialites in the city can catch his eye. When gossip spreads that he was seen pressing a woman against a wall and kissing her fiercely, no one believes it. When the rumors name Isidora, the crowd scoffs. He rejects even the most beautiful women, so why would he notice a plain girl like her? All doubt disappears when they see the dignified Cedrick drop to one knee to help Isidora with her shoe, pleading softly for just one kiss. When Kevin finally sees Isidora's true beauty and begs for forgiveness. But Cedrick kicks him out at once, slams a marriage certificate on the table, and says sharply. "Call her Aunt."