Zebbie Zebbiee
11 Published Stories
Zebbie Zebbiee's Books and Stories
Tears Of A Mistress
Billionaires "Yes, let's say I fucking love it." he said making me smile.
We stayed in that position for a while and I shivered again for the second time. he changed our position so he was on top again. He put his hand on my side and moved freely on top of me.
"Ohhh! Fa-Faster please."
"I can't hear you, baby?" He was still teasing and slowed down his movement as he entered with full emphasis.
I held his seat to make him lean more.
"Alright, hurry up."
"Next, baby." he said and sped up again.
While he wasn't moving as fast as he was, he was relentlessly kissing my lips.
I like this. I want to give him everything. he is the man who made me feel strange feelings. I feel that I will be very hurt when he leaves me. So I will do everything to be the only woman for him.
We hugged each other and I was amazed by his last strength. I rested deeply and accepted the warm liquid he released from my insides.
We kissed again and smiled at each other. He pulled out his length and left on top of me. He stood next to me and hugged me so I leaned on his chest and closed my eyes.
"Flirt!"
I woke up when someone grabbed my hair so I winced in pain especially when it pulled me down on the bed.
"Suzanne!"
"You're an animal! You're an animal, Atreo!"
I was confused as I wrapped the blanket around my naked body. I looked at the woman who was beautiful, sophisticated, well dressed, and maybe the same age as Kuya.
"Suzane, please, don't come here."
I looked at both of them because I couldn't understand why the girl was crying.
The woman looked at me when I stood up. I was shocked when he slapped me so I held my cheek and looked at it. I can see his tears and anger on his face.
"You're flirtatious! You managed to hook up with my husband!"
I was almost pierced and couldn't breathe from what he said. Husband? Is Atreo his wife?
I looked at Atreo Ripler Alvarez. The guy I thought was single. The man I thought I could have.
"Grace, let me explain."
I cried and almost wanted to sink to the ground in my situation. I hate myself.
I ran outside with only a blanket covering my nakedness. I could hardly see the road because of my flooding tears that blurred my vision.
"You're flirtatious! You managed to hook up with my husband!"
"You're flirtatious! You managed to hook up with my husband!"
"You're flirtatious! You managed to hook up with my husband!"
What the woman said kept echoing in my mind.
I sat down on a rock and hugged myself as I continued to sob.
"You are nothing but a mistress, Grace." The Billionaire Wife
Billionaires "Candice, when's the orientation?" I asked when we got to the dorm.
"This afternoon, then tomorrow enrollment in the club you want then next day is the first day of classes and on Friday and Saturday try outs on the sports you want to join when intramurals are over. Because their intramurals are early here and they are prioritized They do it now. Don't you want to join the cheerleading squad? " I nodded.
"The try-outs are also on Friday. And believe me, they were very strict to the point that almost 50 tried outs but they only took three, that's what happened last year." I nodded.
"Let's eat first, before we go to the Auditorium." I just nodded again at what he said.
"What club are you in, Candice?" I asked, because he has been studying here since 7th Grade while I was just a transferee.
"Actresses and Actors, you? What club are you in?" He asked.
"Outcasts" I answered and it stopped.
"I trip to outcast so you stop." He sniffed at me.
"Are you sure you're in the outcasts, and not in the Groovers?" I shook my head.
"I would have loved the Groovers but I'd rather trip to the Outcasts." My answer.
"You're saying Damien Jefferson, which club is that?" I will ask.
"Of course it's The Bands, as usual. It's mostly men." I winced.
"Is that part of the Academy Basketball Team?" I will ask.
"Of course, that's the MVP. All-Time-MVP, since he joined the Basketball team, he's always been the MVP." He replied. A Royalty Kneeling For His Queen
Billionaires
"Eresh is my Queen as I am her King," I said, and I don't know whom I was trying to convince at this moment. Shielder chuckled. "I am her real King, Fourth."
"No..." I said while shaking my head. Damn this bloody wound! If not for this, I would snatch Eresh away from him! I don't care if Tracer gets angry, but I need my Queen beside me!
But I'm feeling so weak. My strength hasn't returned yet. I could only watch as Shielder held Eresh's waist. Eresh flashed me a smile. "You're used to it anyway. Being a pretend King."
Her words were like a thousand daggers piercing right through my chest where my heart is. It hurts to hear her say that. But I know her. Her eyes were telling me that she's lying right now. She's planning something again, and I don't like that she's doing it alone. I don't like the idea of her leaving me because of this plan.
"Kneel, Fourth. My Queen might consider staying with you." I will do everything just so she will stay with me. "Beg," Shielder said after I knelt on the ground.
I saw surprise in Eresh's eyes. See this, my Queen? I'm willing to do everything for you. "Eresh..."
I looked at her while kneeling on the ground. She might see me as someone so low, a royalty kneeling for his Queen. But damn it. I'm desperate.
"I'm never anyone's first choice. But I want you to choose me. Please..."
Thoughts flashed in my mind as I begged her to stay with me. My father who chose not to treat me as his child for this game. My mother who always followed what my father wanted. My butler who got married the moment I freed him. The EL Ordre that made me the King as bait. And Daphne who chose Apollo over me.
"Don't leave me. I'm begging you..."
If my father were to hear what I'm saying, he would punish someone important to me again. As a Von Amstel, we never beg. Still, Eresh left me that night. Enslaved By The Ceo
Romance There was a threat in his voice: "I have a proposal, so listen carefully."
He began, "I'm not going to sue you." It seems as though what he said has relieved me.
He said, "But you'll be my slave," and I froze.
I was even more shocked to hear, "My sex slave, rather."
You simply need to be my slave, Nathania, but if you don't want to, I won't throw you in jail and I'll give back your scholarship, so don't worry about that." He smiled.
He said, "I'll keep bringing charges against you. You'll go to jail. Your life will be ruined."
"Nathania, I don't mind if you call me evil. Agree if you don't want your life to go any worse. Be Nathania, my sex slave." You might like
Wrong Room: Sleeping With My Fiancé's Uncle
Natala O'neal 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." The Jilted Wife Is A Secret Heiress
Zi Ya The Wellington beef sat cold on the mahogany table, a graying monument to three years of wasted devotion. It was my birthday and our anniversary, but my husband, Hamilton McKee, didn't even look at the gift I’d spent months knitting.
"Our marriage is a transaction," he said, his voice cutting like a scalpel. "Stop trying to make it a romance novel. I just need you to stop existing in my space for five minutes."
Then his phone buzzed with a call from Cuba, the ex-girlfriend he never truly left. His cold mask shattered into frantic concern, a look he had never once given me. "I'm coming," he whispered to her, sprinting for the door without a backward glance at the wife he was leaving behind.
I chased him into the freezing Boston night, only to be swarmed by predatory paparazzi. As Hamilton’s Maybach roared away, a heavy camera bag slammed into my shoulder. I slipped on the black ice, my skull hitting a granite gate pillar with a sickening crack.
Warm blood trickled down my neck, and as the world tilted, the fog in my brain finally cleared. I wasn't the penniless orphan from Southie he thought I was. Images of sterile operating rooms, complex sutures, and a billion-dollar inheritance flooded back—along with the memory of the car wreck three years ago where I was the one who pulled Hamilton from the flames, not Cuba.
How could I have spent three years begging for scraps of affection from a man who didn't even recognize his own savior? Why did I let a fraud steal my life while I played the role of a submissive shadow?
When I woke up in the hospital, the trembling girl was gone. I ripped the IV from my arm and stared at the man who had come back only to demand I stay out of his way. I didn't cry. I didn't beg. I simply handed him a piece of paper with one word written in the sharp, confident script of a woman who owned half the city: DIVORCE.
"Sign it, Hamilton," I said, my voice like ice. "Because by tomorrow, I’m not just leaving you—I’m taking the McKee empire with me." Flash Marriage To The Secret Billionaire
William Jafferson My mother called me a defective product and insisted I marry Preston Finch, a man who treated our first date like a corporate merger.
During our lunch, Preston demanded I clean his car like a servant, his arrogance snapping the last thread of my patience.
I threw my iced coffee right into his lap, sending the cafe into a stunned silence as he screamed insults about my background and the cost of his designer pants.
My mother didn't care about the abuse; she only cared that I had lost a "catch," calling me an embarrassment and threatening my future while my flower shop faced imminent foreclosure.
Trapped by debt and my family’s relentless cruelty, I felt like a drowning woman with nowhere left to turn.
Just as I hit rock bottom, Connor Powers—my brother's old roommate—stepped in, his icy gaze promising a brutal end to my misery.
"Let's get married," he said, offering a cold, calculated contract that would shield me from my family forever.
I signed the papers, unaware that I had just tethered my life to a man whose world was far more dangerous than I could have ever imagined. The Unwanted Wife Walks Away Free
Dong Lier For fourteen years, Faith was the perfect Jarvis trophy wife. Plucked from her parents' funeral at seventeen, she was molded into an obedient, quiet accessory for Branson's billionaire empire.
But while she managed his charities and smiled at galas until her face ached, he was busy humiliating her. She found another woman's gold bracelet in his desk, and today, his affair with a 23-year-old actress was broadcast on a massive electronic billboard right above his own Wall Street headquarters.
For years, Faith had endured his coldness. He stopped touching her after the second miscarriage. He left her alone to cry in the back of his chauffeured cars at 3 AM. He thought her silence meant she was too weak, too poor, and too grateful to ever walk away. He called her a "cheap pet" who couldn't survive without his credit cards and mansions.
He truly believed she needed someone else to want her before she could leave him. He never understood that wanting herself was enough. Did he really think she spent all those lonely nights just crying in her gilded cage?
He was dead wrong. Faith didn't just pack a cheap duffel bag to run away. She walked right into his seventy-third-floor corner office, slammed down a zero-compensation divorce agreement, and tossed a highly encrypted USB drive onto his desk.
"Sign the papers today, Branson. Or I hand your company's deepest secrets to a short-seller, and we watch your empire burn." No More Your Scorned Wife: The Medical Empress Returns
Ela Osaretin "Sign it. Save her, and I'll give you anything."
For four years, I was Damian Wright's 'invisible wife'.
While I played the pauper, he poured his soul into his dying first love. Desperate, he blindly signed a stack of papers to buy the 'Gifted Doctor's' time.
He didn't read the fine print. Buried inside was our Divorce Decree.
"Congratulations, Damian," I said, stripping off my surgical mask to reveal the wife he never truly knew. "You're free."
The submissive Amelia is dead.
The legendary 'Ghost Surgeon'? That's me.
The blindfolded racing queen 'Raven'? Also me.
The shadow behind the global intelligence network V-Null? Still me.
I was ready to vanish, but Lucas Sullivan-the titan who makes the Wrights look like peasants-blocked my path.
When Damian tried to reclaim me, Lucas didn't just stop him; he brought an empire to its knees.
"They don't deserve to look at you," Lucas whispered, his touch a lethal mix of protection and obsession. "But if you crave the world, Amelia, I'll burn it down just to hear you say my name."
His Accidental Cure: The Runaway Contract Wife
Norrra I was drugged and sent to a hotel room to be compromised, but I ended up in the presidential suite with a stranger.
I didn't know the man I clung to in my hallucinogenic haze was my own husband, Devaughn Winters, a man I hadn't spoken to in a year.
When I woke up the next morning, the terror of what I’d done hit me like a physical blow. I fled, leaving behind nothing but a shredded dress and a lingering sense of dread.
I thought I’d finally escaped the cold, suffocating contract of our marriage when I signed the divorce papers, but I was wrong.
My mother-in-law arrived at my apartment, freezing my sick mother’s medical funds and threatening to ruin me for the "infidelity" she claimed I’d committed.
She dragged my secrets into the light, leaving me with no choice but to fight back with a knife in my hand and a 911 call on speaker.
But just as I thought I was free, the man I’d spent the night with—the man who was supposed to be my stranger—tore up our divorce papers and declared that I was his to keep.
I was a pawn in a game I didn't understand, trapped between a ruthless father who wanted to sell me for corporate secrets and a husband who demanded I belong to him in life and in death.
How did he not know who I was that night, and why is he suddenly claiming me as his own?
I’m done being a victim, and if he thinks he can own me, he’s about to find out exactly what happens when a cornered woman decides to burn it all down. 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. I Slapped My Fiancé-Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis
Jessica C. Dolan Being second best is practically in my DNA. My sister got the love, the attention, the spotlight. And now, even her damn fiancé.
Technically, Rhys Granger was my fiancé now-billionaire, devastatingly hot, and a walking Wall Street wet dream. My parents shoved me into the engagement after Catherine disappeared, and honestly? I didn't mind. I'd crushed on Rhys for years. This was my chance, right? My turn to be the chosen one?
Wrong.
One night, he slapped me. Over a mug. A stupid, chipped, ugly mug my sister gave him years ago. That's when it hit me-he didn't love me. He didn't even see me. I was just a warm-bodied placeholder for the woman he actually wanted. And apparently, I wasn't even worth as much as a glorified coffee cup.
So I slapped him right back, dumped his ass, and prepared for disaster-my parents losing their minds, Rhys throwing a billionaire tantrum, his terrifying family plotting my untimely demise.
Obviously, I needed alcohol. A lot of alcohol.
Enter him.
Tall, dangerous, unfairly hot. The kind of man who makes you want to sin just by existing. I'd met him only once before, and that night, he just happened to be at the same bar as my drunk, self-pitying self. So I did the only logical thing: I dragged him into a hotel room and ripped off his clothes.
It was reckless. It was stupid. It was completely ill-advised.
But it was also: Best. Sex. Of. My. Life.
And, as it turned out, the best decision I'd ever made.
Because my one-night stand isn't just some random guy. He's richer than Rhys, more powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be playing with.
And now, he's not letting me go. Claimed By My Ex-Fiancé's Ruthless Uncle
Haley I was the "perfect" fiancée for Harrison Vincent—regal, silent, and low-maintenance. For two years, I suppressed my career as a forensic accountant to be the "safe" choice that polled well with his family’s shareholders.
But at a high-society gala, I found him in a VIP lounge with a socialite wrapped around him. He told her I was just a "boring art piece display stand" he had to drag around until his trust fund was unlocked.
I didn't scream or make a scene. I mentally filed a "bad debt" report, tossed my emerald engagement ring into a glass of stale champagne, and walked out of his life. That same night, I found myself in a dark jazz club bathroom, using a strip of my velvet dress to stop the bleeding of a mysterious man with a gunshot wound and eyes like grey flint.
The fallout was immediate. Harrison blocked my credit cards, assuming I’d crawl back once I couldn't afford rent. His mother called me a "nobody" while simultaneously begging me to handle the family's medical emergencies because they were too panicked to function. They treated me like a tool they could discard and pick up at will, never realizing I had already moved my things into a cramped Brooklyn apartment.
I couldn't understand why they thought I was still their puppet, or why a black Maybach began following me through the city streets. I had saved a stranger's life and ended a toxic engagement, yet the air around me felt heavier and more dangerous than ever.
The truth came out at the hospital when the most feared man in the city stepped out of the shadows. It was the man from the bathroom—Collis Vincent, the ruthless head of the family. He didn't just humiliate Harrison; he took my hand in front of everyone and made a chilling declaration.
"Harrison is a fool to have let you go, Helena. Your arrangement with him is terminated. From now on, you'll be working with me." Too Late For Regret: My Dying Breath
Breeze Harlow had stage IV lung cancer and only three months left to live. Her only hope was for her billionaire ex, Ezra, to take in their deaf four-year-old daughter.
But Ezra despised her. Five years ago, Harlow's sister Katherine framed her for corporate theft, sending her to a brutal state prison. Ezra believed the lies completely.
To him, little Clementine was just another man's bastard. When Harlow knelt on his floor begging for a DNA test, he looked at her with pure disgust. On the day the results were revealed in front of both their families, Harlow thought the truth would finally save her child.
Instead, Ezra threw the lab report at her. Secretly manipulated by Katherine's wealth, the paper stated Ezra was excluded as the biological father.
"You are a lying, manipulative parasite, and you are done!" Ezra screamed.
Katherine offered her a fake pity check, while Harlow's own father cursed her as a shameless stain on their legacy.
Harlow stared at the forged paper, her world spinning. She couldn't understand how her own family could be so monstrous, or how Ezra could be so blindly cruel to watch his true daughter be thrown into the streets.
The suffocating despair violently ruptured her diseased lungs. A horrific spray of dark blood erupted from her mouth, soaking the fake DNA report and Ezra's crisp white shirt, before she collapsed lifelessly at his feet. 
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