The Phoenix Sisters Rise

My final ballet scholarship audition was supposed to be my destiny. Instead, I found myself in a police interrogation room, accused of stealing from a sick girl. My own mother sat beside me, dabbing fake tears, whispering for me to confess to a "moment of weakness" while orchestrating my ruin. They showed me a security photo of a girl who looked exactly like me stuffing cash from a donation box. I denied it, but the overwhelming evidence, coupled with my mother' s performance, painted me as a desperate thief, shattering my ballet dreams and reputation. I couldn' t understand why my mother, the one person who should have supported me, was so determined to destroy my life. For years, she had subtly sabotaged my auditions-a slippery substance on my pointe shoes causing a career-ending injury, a powerful laxative in my "power smoothie" making me miss another crucial tryout. Now, she was pushing me to confess to a crime I didn't commit, driving me to the brink of suicide. Lying in a hospital bed after a desperate overdose, a chilling truth clicked into place: my grandmother' s multi-million dollar trust fund, accessible at 21 or upon "significant professional success," would go to my mother if I died or was deemed incompetent. It was never about my ballet; it was about the inheritance, and every "accident" was a calculated attempt to break me. In that moment, I knew I had to fight back, not as a victim, but with every fiber of my being.

For three years, I lived as a ghost in my own home, erased from my husband, Congressman Ethan Lester' s, memory after a convenient bout of amnesia. He remembered only his high school sweetheart, Sabrina, who promptly moved into our house, our bed. I was demoted from his brilliant political strategist to a forgotten caregiver, ignored by his staff, pitied by the press. The breaking point wasn't my humiliation, though. It was our son, Leo. When Leo got gravely sick, I begged Ethan to pull strings for a specialist at Johns Hopkins. He looked me straight in the eye, adjusted the tie Sabrina bought him, and chillingly declared, "I don't have a son. I don't know you." Leo died two days later. But then, I overheard Ethan on the phone. "Leo's death? It cements my image. The tragic, sympathetic figure. The voters will eat it up. The VP endorsement is a lock now." He let our son die. For a Senate seat. My grief didn' t just break, it sharpened into a weapon. He was a monster, and I was going to destroy him. That night, Maria Lester disappeared. But Maria Chavez was just beginning.

My mother' s voice, thick with religious fervor, announced her latest decree for SAT season: 100 days of no secular music, no TV, no internet. This wasn't the first time. I remembered falling down the stairs, Molly's raging accusations still ringing in my ears, right before the darkness consumed me. Now, I was 16 again, trapped in the same suffocating reality, but with the chilling knowledge of how it all ended for me. My twin sister, Molly, quickly embraced Mama's extreme rules, her 'pious' facade masking pure laziness, while I quietly perfected my escape plan. As Molly spiraled into isolation at school, earning the nickname "Amish Girl," my mother, Debra, only tightened her grip, even forbidding basic hygiene. The SAT scores revealed my 1580 against Molly's dismal 850, shattering Mama's carefully crafted image, especially on live stream. Instead of facing reality, Mama demanded I sacrifice my Duke acceptance, "for Molly's sake," a sister who had literally killed me in my past life. How could my own mother expect me to give up my entire future, again, for the one who destroyed me? Why was I back? This time, I wouldn't argue, I wouldn't compromise, and I certainly wouldn't die for their delusions. This time, I was getting out, even if it meant watching them burn their own lives to the ground.

Eleven years. I dedicated them all to Wesley Scott, sacrificing my architect dreams to support his political ambitions. After a decade of being his unassuming small-town Texas girl, he finally proposed, not out of love, I suspected, but for his political image. Then, an anonymous email arrived with a photo: Wesley and his childhood friend, Gabrielle, smiling, holding a deed to a luxury Austin condo, purchased jointly under their names. Beneath it, Gabrielle' s chilling message: "Coming home for good." Wesley dismissed it as "just a favor," his casual use of "Gabby" a slap in the face. But the next day, the building manager casually confirmed Gabrielle was the primary owner, and I, his fiancée, was merely "the friend," a temporary guest. That night, at Gabrielle's welcome dinner, Wesley sat beside her, radiating ownership, as everyone toasted them as "the perfect couple." Then, a friend goaded them into a kiss, and Wesley, playing to the crowd, gave Gabrielle a soft, lingering kiss, a gesture of intimacy he never showed me. All eyes turned to me, expecting tears, a scene, but I just smiled. "If Gabrielle wants him," I said, my voice clear and calm, "she can have him." He dragged me out, furious, but a later anonymous message, a screenshot of their secret Instagram post-"To our future!" and his reply, "Whatever you want, you get. Always"-extinguished any lingering hope. It was the same day he'd asked me to move in, calling it "our first real step." His betrayal culminated when a mob of HOA women, spurred by Gabrielle, publicly assaulted me at the condo, and Wesley stood by, calculating the optics of defending me. I collapsed, humiliated, only to later see his reply on the HOA Facebook chat, throwing me under the bus: "The owner on the deed is the one who matters." He had confirmed I was nothing, a squatter to his entire world. When he abandoned me in the hospital for Gabrielle's fake allergic reaction, I knew. It was over. Three days later, at our lavish engagement party, instead of our romantic slideshow, I played the video of their kiss, the condo deed, and his damning words on the jumbo screens. His political career ignited in a glorious fireball. "Why, Wesley?" I told him calmly when he screamed down the phone. "I was just making way for the real couple. After all, the owner on the deed is the one who matters." I hung up and blocked him, and everyone from that life. I was free to build my own.

For seven years, I was a ghost in their sprawling estate, officially a husband but truly a glorified servant, burying my dreams to pay off their 'generosity.' My own daughter, Molly, called me "Ethan" and saw me as just another part of the staff, while my wife and her parents constantly reminded me of my "place." Then, after a late celebration for a minor promotion, I returned home only to find myself locked out, Nicole having changed the gate code as a petty power play. I spent the night curled in my old pickup, staring at the grand house that was never my home, watching my own daughter look at me and walk away, leaving me to the cold. How could I have so completely lost myself, and how could they be so utterly devoid of empathy for the man they claimed to have "saved"? The next morning, I walked back into that house, handed her the divorce papers, and walked out of that life forever, ready to reclaim every single piece of myself they had stripped away.

I used to think my biggest challenge was building life support systems for astronauts, but then I came home. My quiet Ohio hometown, the one I' d escaped with an MIT scholarship and a secret burning desire for a bigger life, felt smaller than ever. I was back for a high school reunion, reluctantly, to face Matthew Scott, the boy who' d relentlessly bullied me and now owned half the town. He thought I was still "just Gabby," a wash-up struggling with a boring data entry job, a lie I carefully maintained to protect my parents and my classified work at NASA. The reunion quickly devolved into the public humiliation I expected, with Matthew and his sycophants cornering me, pouring wine on me, and trying to extort money. But then, he crossed a line far more dangerous than he could ever comprehend. He snatching my phone, oblivious that it held top-secret national security data, and used it to call his corrupt sheriff buddy, thinking he had finally trapped me. He thought he was calling in local backup to finish off his high school rival, but in reality, he had just triggered a security alert that would bring the full force of the federal government crashing down on his little kingdom. He had no idea that in his arrogant attempt to destroy my life, he had just detonated his own, and mine was about to get a surprising new chapter.

They don't know I'm a girl. They all look at me and see a boy. A prince. Their kind purchase humans like me for their lustful desires. And, when they stormed into our kingdom to buy my sister, I intervened to protect her. I made them take me too. The plan was to escape with my sister whenever we found a chance. How was I to know our prison would be the most fortified place in their kingdom? I was supposed to be on the sidelines. The one they had no real use for. The one they never meant to buy. But then, the most important person in their savage land-their ruthless beast king-took an interest in the "pretty little prince." How do we survive in this brutal kingdom, where everyone hates our kind and shows us no mercy? And how does someone, with a secret like mine, become a lust slave? . AUTHOR'S NOTE. This is a dark romance-dark, mature content. Highly rated 18+ Expect triggers, expect hardcore. If you're a seasoned reader of this genre, looking for something different, prepared to go in blindly not knowing what to expect at every turn, but eager to know more anyway, then dive in! . From the author of the international bestselling book: "The Alpha King's Hated Slave."

Life was a bed of roses for Debra, the daughter of Alpha. That was until she had a one-night stand with Caleb. She was sure he was her mate as determined by Moon Goddess. But this hateful man refused to accept her. Weeks passed before Debra discovered that she was pregnant. Her pregnancy brought shame to her and everyone she loved. Not only was she driven out, but her father was also hunted down by usurpers. Fortunately, she survived with the help of the mysterious Thorn Edge Pack. Five years passed and Debra didn't hear anything from Caleb. One day, their paths crossed again. They were both on the same mission—carrying out secret investigations in the dangerous Roz Town for the safety and posterity of their respective packs. Caleb was still cold toward her. But as time went on, he fell head over heels in love with her. He tried to make up for abandoning her, but Debra wasn't having any of it. She was hell-bent on hiding her daughter from him and also making a clean break. What did the future hold for the two as they journeyed in Roz Town? What kind of secrets would they find? Would Caleb win Debra's heart and get to know his lovely daughter? Find out!

Maia grew up a pampered heiress-until the real daughter returned and framed her, sending Maia to prison with help from her fiancé and family. Four years later, free and married to Chris, a notorious outcast, everyone assumed Maia was finished. They soon discovered she was secretly a famed jeweler, elite hacker, celebrity chef, and top game designer. As her former family begged for help, Chris smiled calmly. "Honey, let's go home." Only then did Maia realize her "useless" husband was a legendary tycoon who'd adored her from the start.

For ten years, Daniela showered her ex-husband with unwavering devotion, only to discover she was just his biggest joke. Feeling humiliated yet determined, she finally divorced him. Three months later, Daniela returned in grand style. She was now the hidden CEO of a leading brand, a sought-after designer, and a wealthy mining mogul—her success unveiled at her triumphant comeback. Her ex-husband’s entire family rushed over, desperate to beg for forgiveness and plead for another chance. Yet Daniela, now cherished by the famed Mr. Phillips, regarded them with icy disdain. "I’m out of your league."

Corinne devoted three years of her life to her boyfriend, only for it to all go to waste. He saw her as nothing more than a country bumpkin and left her at the altar to be with his true love. After getting jilted, Corinne reclaimed her identity as the granddaughter of the town's richest man, inherited a billion-dollar fortune, and ultimately rose to the top. But her success attracted the envy of others, and people constantly tried to bring her down. As she dealt with these troublemakers one by one, Mr. Hopkins, notorious for his ruthlessness, stood by and cheered her on. "Way to go, honey!"

At their wedding night, Kayla caught her brand-new husband cheating. Reeling and half-drunk, she staggered into the wrong suite and collapsed into a stranger's arms. Sunrise brought a pounding head-and the discovery she was pregnant. The father? A supremely powerful tycoon who happened to be her husband's ruthless uncle. Panicked, she tried to run, but he barred the door with a faint, dangerous smile. When the cheating ex begged, Kayla lifted her chin and declared, "Want a second chance at us? Ask your uncle." The tycoon pulled her close. "She's my wife now." The ex gasped, "What!?"