Mercy Orii
1 Published Story
Mercy Orii's Book and Story
The Psychopath's Doctor (His cure)
Romance "Let me go," I screamed, my voice echoing off the walls, as the unnervingly attractive man, who was supposed to be my patient, forcefully pinned me down onto his bed. His dark eyes gleamed with a mix of madness and obsession as he restrained me, an unsettling grin stretching across his face.
"You are so beautiful, Momma...so incredibly beautiful," he murmured, his gaze locked onto me with an intensity that made my skin crawl. It felt as though he was completely in his own world, a place where my desperate pleas for freedom did not exist. This sickening façade he wore, as though he were talking to someone other than the terrified woman he had trapped, made my stomach churn in disbelief.
This nightmarish situation was not what I had anticipated when I had agreed to serve as the personal doctor for this deranged individual. I thought I could help him, perhaps even make a difference in his life, but now it was clear-I had misjudged him entirely. He was proving my worst fears right, unraveling the fantasies I had spun about saving him, revealing instead a horrifying reality that I had been foolish to ignore.
"Let me go, you crazy bastard!" I shouted again, my voice filled with desperation and frustration, rising above the din of my racing heart. But he only responded with a low, deranged chuckle that sent shivers down my spine, a sound so chilling it resonated with his unstable mind.
"Yes, Momma, I'm crazy for you," he declared, his voice tainted with unhinged fervor as he slowly trailed his hands from my abdomen down to my thighs. A sharp gasp escaped my lips, a reflexive reaction to his touch that was both unwelcome and shocking, a physical violation that left me stunned.
"You love what I'm doing... don't you?" he taunted, his twisted grin widening as he watched my horrified expression. Before I could even process what was happening, he leaned in and pressed his lips against mine in a brief yet jarring peck. My body recoiled involuntarily, a mixture of shock and revulsion flooding my senses as the boundaries of my professional duty shattered against his deranged advances.
In that moment, I realized just how dire my situation truly was. This was not merely a confrontation with a patient; it was a dangerous game of survival against a man whose reality was warped, and I was the unwilling object of his twisted affections. It was a sickening realization, one that filled my thoughts with a desperate urgency to escape his grasp before it was too late.
"How dare you? You absolute psychopath!" I exclaimed, my voice tinged with disbelief and outrage. My initial shock from his unexpected kiss hit me like a bolt of lightning-an overwhelming mix of surprise and confusion coursed through my veins. "What on earth do you think you're doing? Let me go this instant!" I demanded, my heart racing as I stared into his eyes, filled with an unsettling mixture of amusement and intensity. To my astonishment, he merely grinned again, displaying a strikingly beautiful set of teeth that somehow made the situation all the more unnerving.
"You know... I really can't stand it when anyone labels me as a psychopath," he replied, his tone light but laced with an unsettling undercurrent of danger. "But oddly enough, when you say it... I can't help but feel incredibly turned on." His chuckle sent a shiver down my spine, and before I could fully process his words, he leaned in and playfully bit my earlobe. The unexpected sensation caused a soft mewl to escape my lips, a reaction I couldn't quite control despite my attempts to resist him.
In truth, I had been trying desperately to push him away from me, my instincts screaming for me to flee. Yet, lately, the things he said and the way he touched me were creating an undeniable impact, stirring something within me that I had long kept buried. It was confusing and frightening, igniting a war between my rational mind and my body's instictual responses.
"You're so unbelievably beautiful," he continued, his gaze fixed intently on me as if he were drinking in every detail of my being. "And I can't help but feel this overwhelming curiosity about how you'll moan my name." His laughter echoed in the air, hysterical and wild, heightening my anxiety and leaving me feeling more scared and vulnerable than ever.
"Get ready, Kimberly Wilson ..." he said, the intensity of his words causing my breath to catch in my throat. "We're going to have a tremendous amount of fun together, and I sincerely hope you're prepared for what's to come." With that, he smashed his lips onto mine with such force that it left me utterly gobsmacked. The world around us faded away, leaving only the chaotic swirl of emotions and the undeniable tension between us as I tried to grapple with the reality of this moment.
Ok what the hell did I get myself into?, I should have known I should have declined to Mr Felix decision that I should be this mad man's doctor, Now look at what's happening,I thought and as the Psychopath You might like
HIS DOE, HIS DAMNATION(An Erotic Billionaire Romance)
Viviene 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.
His Twisted Game, My Dangerous Love
Rabbit 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 Billionaire's Cruelty, My Secret Daughter
Rabbit 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. Pregnant and Divorced: I Hid His Heir
Rabbit 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. My Crippled Husband Is a Secret Billionaire
Rabbit 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. After Betrayal, She Claimed Her Empire
Rabbit 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." The 100-Point Divorce Plan
Gavin 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.