icon 0
icon TOP UP
rightIcon
icon Reading History
rightIcon
icon Sign out
rightIcon
icon Get the APP
rightIcon
closeIcon

Claim Your Bonus at the APP

Open

Romance Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
The Assistant and her Playboy Celebrity

The Assistant and her Playboy Celebrity

Victoria was about to graduate high school and move to Los Angeles with her mom to pursue her dream of being an actress. But disaster struck and her mom was murdered. The murder remained unsolved with no leads. So, Victoria left everything behind and never looked back. She met the perfect guy who was handsome, famous and rich. Her life seemed picture perfect in Hollywood, until her past caught up with her. ** It was the day before my 18th birthday when my mother was murdered. It appeared to be a home invasion. I should have been home, but I had a school project due and stayed late at the library. It is hard not to think of the "what if's". What if I was home, would I have been killed too? What if I could have saved her? The guilt I feel for not being there engulfs me some days. I never knew my father and I do not have any siblings. It was just me and my mom. The only other family I had was my best friend, Theo. We have known each other since we were little and talk every day. After graduation, me and my mom were going to move to Los Angeles together. My lifelong dream was to be a famous actress in Hollywood. Theo didn’t want me to go. He would always say that I was too good for Hollywood and that it would ruin me one day. But I felt all alone now and wanted nothing more than to leave. Theo tried convincing me to stay. He told me that I would have regrets leaving without knowing who my mother's killer was. But the police had zero leads and I had nothing left here in this small town. He tried getting me to stay for him, but I just wanted to be away from everything and everyone who reminded me of home and my mom. I know it hurt him, but it hurt me more to stay. So, after graduation I left for California and never looked back. Theo would text me every day. At first, I would respond, but after a while I stopped and so did he. Years had passed and I did a good job of forgetting my old life. I just celebrated my 22nd birthday and you would think by now that I would have some acting gigs under my belt. But I found out very quickly how hard it is to break into show business. All the money I got from my mom's passing had run out and I had to take odd jobs to make ends meet. I worked at a diner for a while. Then I got a job at a fancy boutique. This is where I got my big break and met Charles Sampson. He was shopping for his wife and was saying how his assistant had just quit due to a family emergency and he was in desperate need of a new one. Charles was in his 60's but he had a long acting career under his belt and just landed a major role in a successful series. I jumped at the opportunity as this could be a great stepping stone for me to land an acting role. Plus, I could learn a lot from him. I felt like things were finally looking up for me. I had been working for Charles for a few weeks and today was the day we got to go on set for filming. I was beyond excited and really nervous. "Victoria, please stop playing with your hair." Charles said. "I am so sorry." I said as I put my hands under my legs so I couldn't do it again. It was one of my nervous habits and was hard to control. "You will do great. You do not need to be nervous. If anything, I should be the one being nervous." he said as he laughed. There were a lot of big named actors and actresses on this show, and I was excited but scared to meet them. So far, Charles is the biggest celebrity I have ever met. The car dropped us off at the entrance of the set for today. We both walked in and were greeted by the producer. She had her assistant show us to his fitting room. As we were walking by the suites, I glanced at the name on the wall outside of one of the doors and saw Luca Hayes. I have had a crush on him for as long as I can remember. I couldn"t believe I was walking by his fitting room. The door was open, and I peeked in. He was pulling a shirt over his head and all I could see was his toned abs. I didn't stop staring until his shirt covered them. I quickly looked up and we made eye contact. I could feel my face heat up and immediately turn red. He had this cute smirk on his face, and I looked away and left as fast as I could. I was so embarrassed. He probably thought I was some weirdo, just staring at him. I wouldn't be surprised if I had drool coming out of my mouth. I hurried and caught up with Charles and the assistant. We arrived at his fitting room and his stylist was ready for him. I didn"t need to be there for this so I asked, "Is there somewhere that I can set up my laptop to work on emails?” The assistant showed me to a communal area with food, wifi and a lounge area. "Be careful with him. He is known to make you feel special, but it is all a lie." She said as she walked away. I looked up from my laptop and saw Luca walking toward me. I didn’t dare say a word and just looked back at my screen. "Did you like what you saw?" he asked. I kept my eyes down and said. "I don't know what you are talking about.”
My Wedding Night, His Downfall

My Wedding Night, His Downfall

The Hamiltons' garden party was a symphony of social graces, too sweet with expensive perfume and the forced laughter of people I barely knew. My fiancé, Captain Alex Hamilton, looked sculpted from a dream, charming everyone as usual. Our future, everyone believed, was perfectly laid out. But something had been off. His phone always angled away, his eyes distant. Then, from the old conservatory, I heard voices drift– Lex' s and Bree Evans' . "She can't find out, Bree. Not about us, not about the baby," Lex whispered. Baby? My breath caught in my throat. Bree whined about "their son," and Lex replied about securing "Sarah' s substantial trust fund" after marriage. Disgust rose hot and choking. He wasn't just cheating; he was planning to use my fortune to fund his entire secret life with another woman and his child. My world tilted violently. The man I was about to marry, the hero everyone admired, was a vile, calculating fraud. This wasn't a mistake; it was a meticulously planned betrayal, a monstrous financial scam camouflaged as love. How could I have been so utterly blind to such cold, professional deception? A sudden, cold calm settled over me. I walked back into the party's noise, slipped the gaudy engagement ring from my finger, and faced him. "I believe this belongs to you," I said, my voice clear. "Our engagement is off. I overheard you. About your son." His face drained. The fight was just beginning. I was going to marry Ethan Cole.
No Longer His To Break

No Longer His To Break

The drug pulsed through my veins, every inch of my body screaming for release, yet my husband, Ethan, stood over me, his face etched with familiar disgust. Just thirty minutes earlier, his childhood sweetheart, Scarlett, had forced 99 pills down my throat, challenging me: if Ethan was still repulsed by my 200-pound body, even under the aphrodisiac's influence, I had to sign the divorce papers. Scarlett' s taunt echoed: "I bet even if you strip naked and beg like a dog, he won't touch your two-hundred-pound body!" Consumed by the drug, I sank to the floor, pressing my lips against Ethan' s polished shoes, begging for help, for the man who once swore to protect me. He commanded, cold and devoid of emotion: "Use your mouth. Unbuckle my belt." He promised to help if I complied. My heart, already shattered, splintered as I fumbled with his belt, a memory piercing through the haze: I had endured agonizing experimental treatments, nearly dying, to cure the rare disease that was killing him. He had vowed eternal gratitude, promised to cherish me forever. But the cure had ravaged my metabolism, ballooning my body and his affection dwindled just as fast. Then, his sneer: "You really think I'd touch this? You' re disgusting. Trying to manipulate me with drugs? You' re pathetic." He kicked me away, walking out, leaving me to burn while Scarlett posted a triumphant selfie with him: "He's mine. Alone." I was just a placeholder, a life-saving tool that had outlived its usefulness. The fire inside raged, but a chilling resolve hardened. I wouldn't die here. A numb voice whispered: "I will erase Ava Miller, the hopeful artist, the loving wife, the pathetic, two-hundred-pound woman begging on the floor. I will leave this life behind and become someone else. Someone powerful."