Sea Quest
17 Published Stories
Sea Quest's Books and Stories
My Mysterious Husband Is My Billionaire Boss
Billionaires To fulfill her dying grandmother's final wish, Clarice married a complete stranger.
After a quick signature at City Hall, the man handed her a key and vanished overseas for an entire year.
But when Clarice was promoted to the corporate headquarters, her quiet life was shattered.
A year later, they crossed paths at the company. As Clarice sized up her formidable CEO, she was struck by a vague sense of familiarity, yet she could not for the life of her place where she had seen him before.
Rumors spread that the powerful CEO of The Sinclair Group, who had always kept his distance from all women, was married-and utterly obsessed with his wife, spoiling her rotten.
Clarice had heard the gossip too, never realizing that the envied Mrs. Sinclair was none other than herself.
It was not until one night after a banquet that the truth came to light. Slightly intoxicated, Nolan Sinclair IV leaned close to her ear and murmured in a low, intimate voice, "Darling." Rejected By The Alpha, Claimed By The Royal General
Werewolf I sealed my rare White Wolf aura and royal identity for three years to repay Alpha Silas for saving my life, secretly building his impoverished pack into prosperity.
But instead of gratitude, he brought his mistress Elara to our bedroom, forcing me to sign an Omega downgrade contract.
"She has earned her place by my side in the Capital. Not you," Silas announced coldly.
When I tried to leave, he crushed my hand under his heavy boot. To solidify her position, Elara poisoned me with wolfsbane, and Silas tortured my face with a silver scourge to extract a false confession of a secret lover. Locked in a silver-wired cage on the carriage ride to the Capital, I bled out and lost the pup I had secretly been carrying. Silas and his mother merely watched with cold indifference.
"It is merely a Rogue's bastard pup. It deserves to die," Elara sneered.
I gave them everything, using my clandestine royal connections to feed their starving pack, yet they treated me like disposable refuse and killed my unborn child just to elevate a thief.
When Silas dragged me before the Lycan King and Queen to publicly execute my supposed lover—who turned out to be the Royal Army's top General and my true fated mate—I finally let my black velvet hood fall.
It was time for them to realize the "Omega slave" they had tortured was actually the kingdom's eldest Princess. Trading Passion With The Ruthless Tycoon
Romance Chloe was drowning in crushing debt and a rare neurological condition that made her skin agonize for a touch she couldn't bear.
That was until her mysterious neighbor, Julian, stepped in. He saved her from a predatory client by beating the man half to death, secured her a $20,000 payout, and miraculously cured her tormenting condition with a single, desperate night in her bed.
But Julian was dangerous. He drove a Bentley, had the police turning a blind eye to his violence, and hid dark secrets behind a handyman disguise. Terrified by his world and the absolute control he had over her body, Chloe panicked. The morning after he tenderly held her together, she pulled out her checkbook.
She handed him a check for $500.
"For your service. It was excellent," she said coldly, treating the lethal man like a cheap escort.
His vulnerable expression shattered, replaced by a look of profound hurt and ice-cold rage. He slammed her door, vanishing from her life.
Almost immediately, her skin began to burn again, and her career stalled. The brutal realization hit her: she had driven away the only person who could anchor her. But why did a man with such immense wealth and power pretend to be a blue-collar worker just to get close to her in the first place?
Desperate, she wired him another $500 to force a reaction. Late that night, as she stood nervously at a convenience store counter buying boxes of condoms, a low, triumphant voice whispered in her ear.
"Preparing for next time?" Phoenix Rising: My Doomed Supreme General Husband
Mafia Arden Monroe was locked in a sterile psychiatric room by her own flesh and blood.
Not long after, her brother Delmar arrived with a cold ultimatum.
He demanded she publicly break her engagement so her fiancé Brenden could marry her half-sister Kallie.
If she refused, the doctors would declare her legally unstable, and she would rot in this asylum forever.
In her previous life, Arden fought back desperately.
As a result, her family froze her trust fund and completely destroyed her reputation in high society.
They even framed her fiercely loyal assistant, Jennie, throwing her into a terrifying concrete cell to silence her.
When Arden had absolutely nothing left to take, they orchestrated a tragic accident.
She was left to burn alive in an abandoned warehouse, feeling her own bones turn to ash.
Until she died, she didn't understand. She was a Monroe, her father's legitimate daughter.
Why did her father and brother hate her so much?
Why did they collude with political enemies to slaughter her maternal grandfather and uncles just to strip away her protection?
Opening her eyes again, the suffocating smoke was gone, and she was back on the day Delmar came to force the breakup.
"I'll do what you want," Arden whispered, perfectly masking her cold, murderous resolve.
This time, she would inherit the secret Beaumont wealth, ally with the dying General Donovan Mathews, and burn their world to the ground. The Sick Tycoon's Unwanted Substitute Bride
Billionaires I am the adopted daughter of the Dillard family, a medical student surviving entirely on a full scholarship.
But when their family business faced bankruptcy, my adoptive parents decided it was time for me to pay them back.
My sister refused to marry a rumored "dying freak" from the wealthy Terrell family, so they forced me to take her place.
When I refused, my adoptive father showed me a flawless, disgusting AI Deepfake video of myself.
"Sign the marriage contract, or this goes to your medical school."
To save my hard-earned future, I was shoved into a wedding dress and shipped off to the Terrell estate.
But my nightmare had just begun.
My new husband was the exact same dangerous, sick man I had accidentally injured while escaping an attacker the night before.
He didn't recognize me in the light, assuming I was just the greedy, gold-digging Dillard daughter.
He humiliated me, forcing me to sleep on the floor and clean shattered crystal with my bare hands.
As the sharp shards sliced into my skin and blood pooled in my gloves, I didn't shed a single tear.
He told me I had a three-month trial period as his wife before he threw me out.
I calmly wrapped a band-aid around my bleeding finger.
Three months is exactly what I need to find the original Deepfake file, ruin my adoptive family, and escape this monster for good. Out Of Your League: The Lethal Ex-Wife
Romance Erica Murphy had spent three years rotting in a freezing prison cell.
She thought she was serving time for a tragic accident, but the truth was much darker. Her husband, Colten, had framed her for his mistress's drunk hit-and-run, stolen her fortune, and left her to take the fall.
The day Erica was finally released, a speeding car intentionally slammed into her, shattering her spine. As she lay dying on the emergency room table, flatlining on the monitor, Colten and his pregnant mistress didn't come to save her. Instead, they tossed a stack of divorce papers onto her bloody hospital blanket. They wanted her to sign away her last remaining shares and take on thirty million dollars of toxic corporate debt.
"Sign it," Colten demanded coldly, looking at her crushed body with utter disgust. "Consider this the last bit of dignity I'm giving you."
The original Erica died right there, suffocating in despair and betrayal, unable to understand how the man she loved could be so monstrous.
But when the flatline on the monitor suddenly spiked and her eyes snapped open, the traumatized victim was gone.
Replaced by the cold, calculating consciousness of a future special ops commander. With microscopic nanobots rapidly fusing her shattered bones together, Erica picked up the pen, preparing to burn Colten's entire empire to ashes. From Mafia Doll To Montana Queen
Mafia I was the invisible daughter of the Hayes crime family, secretly painting portraits of Marcus, the Underboss. He was the man who had once protected me from the world, the man I loved from the shadows.
But he chose power over affection. To secure an alliance, he engaged Isabella.
Threatened by my existence, Isabella staged a fake miscarriage and framed me for destroying her heirloom wedding dress.
Marcus didn't ask for my side of the story. Blinded by rage over his "lost heir," he ordered his guards to drag me to the Ice Cellar—a freezing underground torture chamber used for traitors.
For days, I shivered in the absolute darkness, listening to the water drip, realizing the man I worshiped was actually my jailer. My father, protecting his own millions, let it happen.
In that cold, the girl who loved Marcus died.
When he finally released me, he expected me to be broken, obedient, and grateful for his mercy.
Instead, I burned every painting I had ever made of him. I packed a single bag and vanished into the night, escaping to a rugged ranch in Montana where no one knew my name.
Three years later, the truth about Isabella’s lies finally surfaced.
Marcus tracked me down. The King of New York fell to his knees in the dirt and cow manure of my new home, weeping, begging, and offering me the entire world to come back.
I looked down at the man who once owned my heart.
"You can't un-shatter a glass, Marcus," I said coldly. "I'm not coming home." The Betrayal That Broke Me
Romance The sterile hum of the hospital room grated on my nerves, a grim backdrop to my mother' s shallow breaths. I clung to her frail hand, praying each rise and fall of her chest wouldn't be her last.
But then my phone buzzed, pulling me into a different kind of nightmare: a photo of my wife, Sarah, draped provocatively over a junk car, sent by Jake, her "creative director."
My blood ran cold. Sarah, my Sarah, looking cheap and available, with Jake' s smug caption about "pushing boundaries."
Then came his direct message-another photo, Sarah' s eyes closed, her lipstick smeared, and Jake' s hand on her bare shoulder, possessive.
Below it, a single line that ripped through me: "Wish you were here? Don't worry, I'm taking good care of her."
Rage flooded my chest, hot and acidic. I called Sarah, my voice shaking, begging her to come, to say goodbye to my dying mother.
"I can't just leave, Alex," she snapped, her voice sharp with impatience. "This is Jake's big break. Everything is riding on this. I can't let him down."
"Your mother-in-law is dying," I whispered, disbelief choking me. "My mother is dying."
"And what do you want me to do about it?" she sneered. "Hold her hand? It's not like she ever liked me anyway. I' ll be there when it' s over. Just... handle it. I have to go."
The line went dead, her cruel words echoing in the suffocating quiet of the hospital corridor.
Moments later, the doctor delivered the news: she was gone. My world went silent.
Then, my phone buzzed again, an Instagram notification: "Sarah.Evans and Jake.Creates are now live."
I clicked it, a hollowed-out shell of a man, watching my wife celebrate with her lover while my mother's body grew cold in the room behind me.
They celebrated their "win" with champagne, Sarah screaming, "To us! To the win!" as Jake leaned in for a long, deep kiss, for the whole world to see.
Why? Why did she choose him? Why did she treat my mother with such contempt in her final hours?
The answer lay buried in years of betrayal, starting even before our wedding day. And now, I would unearth every dirty secret, even if it meant tearing my own life apart. My Son's Death, His Sympathy Vote
Romance My life as Jocelyn Scott, wife to rising political star DA Ethan Scott, was a carefully crafted facade of domestic bliss, though I, a Senator' s daughter, had traded my ambition for his.
Then came the "accident." At the hospital, my husband, bandaged for dramatic effect, publicly declared amnesia, disowning me and our five-year-old son, Leo, and embracing his "first love," Sabrina, daughter of a powerful senator whose endorsement he craved.
Overnight, I became a "household staff member" in my own home, watching Sabrina wear my clothes and sleep in my bed. Leo, ostracized and bullied at school, came home with bruises and tear-filled eyes, while his father walked past him as if he were furniture. The final, crushing blow came when Ethan, watching our son drown in a fountain, joked, "Well, that'll get the sympathy vote." Leo died that night, and Ethan saw his death as pure political gold.
How could he? How could the man I loved, the father of my child, be such a monstrous, calculating machine? My son, my beautiful boy, reduced to a tragic headline, his resting place torn down for a hot tub.
In that hollowed-out instant, the last shred of my former self died. And in its place, a cold, hard resolve was born. I would fake my own death, resurrecting Jocelyn Fuller, and become the ghost that would haunt his rise, then meticulously orchestrate his devastating fall. Built From The Ashes
Modern My last memory of my first life was Ethan, standing over my grave.
He wasn't crying; he was smiling, that cruel twist of his lips I knew all too well.
"I forgive you, Chloe," he' d whispered, putting his arm around Jessica as they walked away with the son I' d raised, leaving me to rot.
They stripped me of everything: my apprenticeship, my dignity, decades of my life wasted raising their abandoned baby, "Lucky."
When I got sick, they threw me away like trash, only to reveal their truth: Lucky was their child, conceived in a twisted plan to steal my future.
I gasped, my eyes flying open, not in a coffin, but back in my 1995 body, young and alive, standing on a desolate back road.
Just feet away, a baby carrier, and the wailing infant inside.
In my past life, pity had washed over me, and I' d rushed to save him, unknowingly signing my own death warrant.
This time, as I looked at the carrier, I felt nothing but a cold, hard fury.
I turned my back and walked away, choosing a path of ice instead of kindness. When Good Backfires: A Student's Vengeance
Young Adult My college life as a pre-med student at a California state university was focused on rigorous studies, good grades, and upholding personal integrity, shared with my best friend Olivia and our free-spirited roommate, Jessica.
The facade of normalcy shattered when Jessica reappeared after a three-day disappearance, clutching my personal water bottle, her neck and arms covered in unsettling red welts, all while boasting about dodging crucial health screenings.
My attempt to responsibly report her for avoiding mandatory health checks spiraled disastrously: Jessica, fueled by rage, staged a dramatic escape and, aided by her ethically compromised academic advisor, Dr. Peterson, orchestrated a fake cyberbullying charge against me.
Suddenly, my reputation was on the line due to a formal disciplinary warning, making me the campus pariah.
How could doing the right thing backfire so spectacularly, leaving me accused and shamed, while actual recklessness went unchecked?
The injustice was a bitter pill, confirming my deepest suspicions about Jessica's manipulative nature and the disturbing, illicit alliance she clearly shared with Dr. Peterson.
But instead of breaking me, this unfair attack ignited a cold fury, transforming my disgust into a calculated resolve: I would expose their corrupt web, even if it meant playing their game, starting with a discreet "accident" in Dr. Peterson's office. Her Second Life, His Last
Romance My sister Eleanor was set to marry Marcus Thorne, a powerful man whose family held immense sway.
It was a pre-arranged union, heralded as the cornerstone of a grand alliance between the Harrisons and the Thornes.
But my world shattered when I uncovered the horrifying truth: Marcus had orchestrated Eleanor's death, masking it as a "sudden illness."
Before I could expose his monstrous secret, a killer's hands clasped my throat.
The suffocating scent of expensive oud cologne filled my lungs as my vision faded.
My first life ended right there, in my father's study-a place of power that became my tomb.
Every attempt to reveal the truth, every desperate plea, was brutally silenced.
The injustice was a burning fire within me.
How could his heinous crimes go unpunished?
The phantom ache of that chokehold, indelibly linked to the memory of that rich, woody scent, fueled an insatiable fury.
I died knowing the monster would walk free.
But then, I gasped, sitting bolt upright in my silk sheets, sunlight streaming into my room.
It was Eleanor's engagement day once more.
This wasn't a nightmare; it was a resurrection.
This was my second chance.
I knew what I had to do: I would marry Marcus Thorne myself, infiltrating his inner circle to save Eleanor and orchestrate his ultimate downfall.
This wasn't just survival; it was war. Once Broken, Now Free
Modern My 21st birthday wasn't just a day; it was the day.
The day Ava Harrison promised we' d meet at Austin's iconic Continental Club, the moment I believed she'd finally see me, the kid who poured his soul into songs just for her.
But as I arrived, guitar in hand, ready to begin our future, I heard her voice, clear and cold, telling her friend: "It' s a great way to finally shut down little Ethan. Still chasing that silly promise about The Continental Club."
Then came the public engagement, a diamond flashing as she announced, "Sweet, but a little too late." My world crumbled. Moments later, a stage light crashed. I was severely injured, but Ava, my supposed future, didn't stay. She left me, bruised and broken, for her new fiancé, Julian, sending a single, chilling text: "#EngagedLife."
How could the girl I worshipped, the one I wrote a decade of music for, be so utterly cruel? So dismissive of my love, my pain? The betrayal burned deeper than any physical wound.
I smashed my guitar. Blocked her. And packed my bags for Nashville. This wasn't just over; it was a detonation. I swore I' d turn that agonizing betrayal into music so powerful, it would become her inescapable shadow. This wasn't the end of me; it was the birth of something far more formidable. The Ninety-Nine Betrayals
Romance The world went gray after the crash that took my parents, leaving their green tech company on the brink. Then my dazzling wife, Izzy, appeared like a savior, her old Texas oil money propping us up. She was my rock, my biggest cheerleader through ninety-eight failed prototypes, always assuring me the ninety-ninth, UrbanFlow, would be "the one." I loved and trusted her completely.
Until I overheard her chilling confession. She wasn't my supporter; she was a saboteur. She'd orchestrated every single one of my "failures," systematically leaking my core algorithms and business plans to her old flame, Caleb. My IP was the foundation of his booming tech empire. Our marriage? A cold, calculated "strategic" move to keep me coding, dependent, and utterly blind.
The woman I adored, my "Izzy," was a venomous lie. Every affectionate word, every comforting touch, twisted into a cruel mockery of love. My life was a meticulously constructed deception, my genius hijacked, my parents' legacy exploited. Nausea churned in my gut, quickly replaced by a simmering, icy rage. She believed I was a naive fool, that I had nothing without her.
She was about to discover just how wrong she was. My heart ached with betrayal, but my mind sharpened with unwavering resolve. I would not just reclaim my work; I would unleash a reckoning so precise, so public, that they would pay for every single lie. This was no longer about a company—it was about justice. You might like
The Unwanted Wife's Flawless Spectacular Comeback
Hansiain Finley-moise 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. The Jilted Heiress's Ruthless Billionaire Revenge
Gray Matter 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." The Jilted Wife's Spectacular Billionaire Comeback
Zhi Yao 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. From Prison To Power: Rise Of The War Goddess
Black Knight 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. Sir, She's Gone With Their Daughter And Never Returns
Leanora Tanouye 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." The Divorced Genius Wife Returns For Revenge
Xiao Ye Sloane Sinclair-Carlisle died in a fiery car crash, only to wake up in the weak, broken body of a girl named Nina White.
Before she could process her rebirth, a torrent of tragic memories flooded her mind. Nina had written the genius code that saved her husband Doug's tech company from bankruptcy.
But instead of gratitude, Doug stole her life's work, presented the billion-dollar algorithm as his own, and drove the desperate girl to swallow a bottle of sleeping pills.
"Nina, I swear to God, if you don't open this door in one minute, I'm kicking it down! I don't have time for your drama!"
Doug was pounding on the door, aggressively demanding she sign the divorce papers so he could marry his high-school sweetheart.
Downstairs, his mother and sister casually sipped tea, mocking Nina as a worthless beggar who was finally being thrown out.
They were celebrating their impending wealth, fully believing they could just erase her and leave her with absolutely nothing.
They thought they had completely crushed a timid, helpless victim.
They had no idea the soul now inhabiting this body belonged to a cold, unforgiving predator.
Sloane threw away the suicide note, put on a bold red dress, and decisively signed the net-zero divorce agreement.
She slapped the papers in front of her arrogant ex-husband and walked out into the night, ready to build her own empire and watch his stolen company burn to the ground. My Accidental Billionaire husband
Favor V April 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.
Discarded By Him, Claimed By The Zillionaire
TESS WHITE I was Landon Mercer's secret girlfriend and loyal assistant for four years. I thought my absolute devotion would eventually win his heart.
But he casually announced his engagement to a wealthy heiress, reminding me I was just a convenient nobody from an orphanage.
When I got trapped in a horrific car crash and begged him to call an ambulance, he just hung up on me, annoyed that my bleeding was ruining his romantic getaway.
He even blackmailed me with my orphanage's land lease, forcing me to attend his engagement party as a prop.
At the party, his elite family and friends brutally humiliated me.
They deliberately crushed my broken arm, poured red wine over my head, and kicked me into a freezing pond.
When Landon finally pulled me out, he didn't care that I was suffocating and turning blue.
"Are you out of your mind? You come out here and cause a scene during my engagement party?"
He threw a stack of cash at my shivering body, furious that I had embarrassed him in front of his wealthy guests.
Looking at the hundred-dollar bills floating in the muddy water, my four years of foolish love completely died.
To him, I wasn't even human; I was just a cheap toy he could abuse and pass around.
I didn't cry, and I didn't beg.
I dragged my soaked, battered body into a car and headed straight to the penthouse of his biggest billionaire rival.
It was time to burn Landon Mercer's world to the ground. Sexy Behind The Mask
Ellie Wynters She hides behind ugly suits and fake names. He's done trusting women. When they meet in a masked sex club, neither realizes they've been fighting each other across boardroom tables for eighteen months. At Taylor Industries, she's Joy Smith-the frumpy CFO who drowns her curves in shapeless polyester and wearing a wig. At home, she's the forgotten wife of a cheating lawyer who hasn't touched her in so long she's starting to wonder if she's broken. When she finds hot pink lace panties stuffed in her couch cushions...definitely not hers, it's not heartbreak she feels. It's freedom. Grayson Taylor doesn't do relationships anymore. Not after walking in on his actress fiancée with another woman. Now he channels everything into hostile takeovers and board meetings, especially the ones where his overcautious CFO fights him on every goddamn acquisition. Joy Smith is brilliant, infuriating, and funny when he pushes all her buttons. But Honey is tired of being invisible. Tired of never having felt real pleasure. So, when her best friend gives her the details of The Velvet Room-Manhattan's most exclusive masked club-she promises herself just one night. One night to find out if her husband's right, if she really is frigid, or if she's just never been touched by the right hands. She doesn't expect the masked stranger who claims her the second she walks in. Doesn't expect the chemistry that ignites between them, the way he makes her body sing, or the orgasms that leave her shaking. Doesn't expect him to hand her an email address with one command: "Only me. No one else touches you." 
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