Wrong Room: Sleeping With My Fiancé's Uncle

Wrong Room: Sleeping With My Fiancé's Uncle

Natala O'neal

5.0
Comment(s)
15.8K
View
181
Chapters

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."

Wrong Room: Sleeping With My Fiancé's Uncle Chapter 1 Manhattan Top Floor

The heavy mahogany door of the Plaza Hotel's presidential suite stood before Isidora.

She gripped the universal keycard so tightly that the sharp plastic edges bit into her palm. The pain was grounding.

She swiped the card. The green light blinked, followed by a soft click.

Isidora pushed the door open. The air inside hit her like a physical blow, thick with the smell of expensive champagne and cheap lust.

She stepped onto the Persian rug. Her eyes immediately locked onto a custom Armani suit jacket discarded on the floor. It belonged to Kevin.

A black lace bra hung from the edge of the crystal chandelier in the hallway. It was Chantelle's, her former good friend.

Isidora's stomach violently contracted, acid burned the back of her throat. This was the man she was supposed to marry in a few months.

From the half-open bedroom door, the unmistakable sounds of wet skin slapping against skin and heavy, uninhibited moans echoed through the quiet suite.

She didn't cry. Instead, a freezing calm washed over her veins.

Isidora pulled her phone from her pocket. She opened the camera, switched to video mode, and made sure the flash was off.

She walked toward the bedroom and kicked the door wide open with her heel.

The screen of her phone illuminated the tangled limbs on the king-sized bed. Kevin was on top, his face buried in the blonde model's neck.

The sudden light made Kevin freeze. He snapped his head around, his eyes wide with sheer panic.

"What the hell!" Kevin roared, grabbing a pillow and hurling it at the door. "You creepy, ugly freak! Get out!"

Isidora didn't flinch. She simply tilted her head, letting the pillow hit the doorframe.

Her thumb pressed the red stop button. The video was saved.

She looked at Kevin's pale, sweaty face. There was no jealousy in her chest, only the cold satisfaction of a hunter bagging a kill.

Chantelle let out a piercing scream, pulling the silk sheets up to cover her chest.

Isidora turned her back on them. She walked out of the suite, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor in a steady, ruthless rhythm.

By the time she reached the elevator, her lungs felt like they were collapsing. She slammed her hand against the button for the rooftop bar.

She needed alcohol. She needed it to burn away the filth she had just witnessed.

The elevator doors opened directly into the dim, purple ambient lighting of the rooftop bar. The heavy bass of a jazz band vibrated against her ribcage, but it couldn't drown out the churning in her stomach. She forced the nausea down, her face still a mask of thick, uneven foundation and fake freckles, her eyes hidden behind hideous, thick-rimmed black glasses. She was a walking, breathing joke, and tonight, she would lean into it.

She walked to the most isolated corner of the bar, ignoring the sideways glances her strange appearance attracted.

"Dry martini. Make it your strongest," Isidora told the bartender.

When the glass arrived, she didn't sip it. She threw her head back and swallowed the burning liquid in one go.

The alcohol hit her bloodstream like a match dropped in gasoline. Her head spun.

Suddenly, the barstool next to her was pulled back. A tall, broad shadow sat down.

Before she even looked at him, a scent invaded her lungs. Crisp cedarwood mixed with a dark, dangerous male pheromone. It completely overpowered the cheap cologne of the men around them.

"Whiskey. Neat," the man ordered.

His voice was a low, gravelly rumble. It sounded exhausted, like a man who hadn't slept in a week.

Isidora turned her head. The lighting was terrible, but she could make out a razor-sharp jawline and a black dress shirt with the top two buttons undone.

Cedrick gripped his glass, his knuckles white. His chronic insomnia had been tearing his nerves to shreds for days.

But then, a scent drifted across the space between them.

It was faint. Iris. A very specific, custom blend of iris that hit his brain like a heavy dose of tranquilizers. The constant buzzing in his skull instantly quieted.

Cedrick snapped his head toward the woman sitting next to him.

His dark, bottomless eyes locked onto her. He saw the hideous, thick-rimmed glasses, the cakey, uneven foundation, and the tightly pulled, severe bun. The woman's appearance was a jarring contradiction to the ethereal, calming fragrance she wore. But in that moment, as the crushing pressure in his skull finally receded, he found he didn't care. He didn't care at all. All that mattered was the source of that scent.

Isidora felt the heat of his stare. It was predatory. It made the hair on her arms stand up. It was also deeply confusing. No one had ever looked at her this way while she wore her disguise.

She tried to stand up and walk away, but the martini betrayed her. Her knees buckled.

She fell sideways.

A thick, muscular forearm caught her waist. Cedrick's hand was burning hot, the heat searing right through the thin silk of her dress.

The urge to destroy Kevin, combined with the heavy alcohol in her brain, reached a boiling point.

Isidora looked up at the stranger. She didn't pull away. Instead, she reached up and wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders.

The morning sun sliced through the gap in the heavy curtains, stabbing Isidora directly in the eyes.

She gasped, her eyes flying open. Every muscle in her body ached with a deep, throbbing soreness.

She turned her head. A massive, scarred back faced her on the other side of the king-sized bed.

The memories of last night crashed into her skull like a freight train. The rough hands, the biting, the absolute loss of control.

Panic seized her throat. She couldn't breathe.

Isidora threw the duvet off her naked body. She scrambled across the carpet, grabbing her scattered clothes and pulling them on with shaking hands.

She needed to leave. She needed to make sure this never happened again.

She dug into her purse and pulled out ten crisp hundred-dollar bills.

She grabbed a hotel pen and scribbled on a notepad: Standard service fee. We're even. She stared at the harsh letters for a split second, her expression hardening into absolute, cold detachment. There was no room for lingering sentiment or regret in the life she was forced to lead.

She slammed the cash and the note onto the nightstand, right next to his heavy, expensive-looking watch and her own pair of ugly, thick-rimmed glasses.

Isidora didn't look back. She yanked the suite door open and ran down the hallway like a fugitive.

Continue Reading

Other books by Natala O'neal

More
From Lost Puppy to Lioness

From Lost Puppy to Lioness

Romance

5.0

I left my old-money New England family, who thought my last name opened every door, to find something real. I found it in a new city, working a simple coffee shop job, and falling head-over-heels for a struggling musician named Ethan. He sang me love songs, and I poured my whole heart into him, convinced he was my escape, my true home. Then one night, at a crowded warehouse party, I overheard him. "The Aston Martin DB5 is practically mine," he laughed to his friends. "Did she really fall for the struggling musician bit? So naive it hurt." My world shattered. This "Ethan" was Ace Sterling, heir to a tech fortune, and I was just a bet, a "lost puppy" to him. My family, who had warned me, hung up when I called, leaving me utterly alone. Fired from my job, facing eviction, I even slept on a park bench, actively sabotaged by a smug cousin. Every door slammed shut, my life spiraling out of control. The humiliation was a burning sickness, but a cold anger started to replace the pain. He hadn't even flinched when I threw the vintage guitar pick – something I' d saved for weeks to buy for his dreams – at his face. He just watched me break. Years later, he found me serving drinks at a high-society gala, and condescendingly offered me a "discreet arrangement" to make me "comfortable" again. He thought I was still that broken girl, easy to buy and silence. He had no idea what he had just started. That night, Ava Monroe, the naive girl, vanished. Because a new Ava, one forged from the ashes of betrayal and humiliation, was about to rise, and she was coming for him.

More Than a Mistress, Less Than a Wife

More Than a Mistress, Less Than a Wife

Romance

5.0

Olivia Holloway was once NYC’s golden girl, an architect married to the powerful Ethan Cartwright. Our penthouse offered glittering city views, a testament to the life I’d built—or rather, the life I’d put my own dreams on hold for. We were the epitome of success. Then the Hamptons retreat happened. Ethan was found with a junior analyst, Chloe Vance. His smooth, too-smooth explanation about being drugged dissolved months later when Chloe reappeared, pregnant, claiming the baby was his. It was a slap in the face. His mother, Eleanor, insisted I accept the situation for the “Cartwright heir.” My grandmother's cherished sapphire heirloom was casually given to Chloe. Ethan left me to drown after a yacht accident, prioritizing Chloe, then demanded I, injured, donate blood to her. Each betrayal was a fresh wound, yet he expected me to act as if nothing happened. The public humiliation was unending, climaxing when Chloe accused me of harming her at a charity gala, and Eleanor physically slapped me. My entire life, identity, and very humanity had been consumed by their schemes. How could the man I loved destroy me so thoroughly, yet remain so oblivious to my suffering? In that moment, something inside me shattered irrevocably, but it also awakened. I smashed Eleanor’s treasured porcelain heirloom, signaling a definitive end to their control. I filed for divorce, packed a bag, and disappeared, ready to reclaim my life, my freedom, and rediscover Olivia Holloway.

You'll also like

The Placeholder Bride's Secret Billionaire Revenge

The Placeholder Bride's Secret Billionaire Revenge

Luo Ye

For two years, I was the invisible force behind tech billionaire Kieran Douglas, convinced that our "private" romance was his way of protecting us from the tabloid spotlight. I managed his mergers, warmed his bed, and waited for a future that didn't exist. The illusion shattered at 6:00 AM when a Page Six alert debuted Kieran's "real" romance with socialite Aspen Schneider. Before I could even process the betrayal, Kieran sent me a cold, professional text: "Order flowers for Aspen. Pink peonies. Her favorite." When I tried to walk away, my own mother called me a disgrace and threatened to lock my inheritance forever unless I married a sixty-year-old businessman to save her failing estate. At a high-society gala that same night, Aspen intentionally crushed my burned hand in front of the cameras, while Kieran stood by and dismissed me as a "mediocre assistant" who had overstayed her welcome. I stood in the cold New York rain, drenched in champagne and humiliation, realizing that every sacrifice I made for Kieran was a joke. I was a ghost in a penthouse that was never mine, discarded the moment his "soulmate" returned. To the world, I was just a placeholder whose time had run out. But Kieran forgot one thing: my father's multi-million dollar trust fund unlocks the moment I legally marry. I didn't need love; I needed a signature and a shield. I walked into a discreet law firm and signed a marriage contract with a man I believed was the city's most notorious, scandal-ridden playboy. I thought I was marrying a degenerate "beard" to buy my freedom and secure my revenge. I didn't realize the man who signed that paper wasn't a playboy at all, but Gaston Collins-the most powerful and dangerous man on Wall Street-and he had no intention of letting our fake marriage stay fake.

Flash Marriage To My Best Friend's Father

Flash Marriage To My Best Friend's Father

Madel Cerda

I was once the heiress to the Solomon empire, but after it crumbled, I became the "charity case" ward of the wealthy Hyde family. For years, I lived in their shadows, clinging to the promise that Anson Hyde would always be my protector. That promise shattered when Anson walked into the ballroom with Claudine Chapman on his arm. Claudine was the girl who had spent years making my life a living hell, and now Anson was announcing their engagement to the world. The humiliation was instant. Guests sneered at my cheap dress, and a waiter intentionally sloshed champagne over me, knowing I was a nobody. Anson didn't even look my way; he was too busy whispering possessively to his new fiancée. I was a ghost in my own home, watching my protector celebrate with my tormentor. The betrayal burned. I realized I wasn't a ward; I was a pawn Anson had kept on a shelf until he found a better trade. I had no money, no allies, and a legal trust fund that Anson controlled with a flick of his wrist. Fleeing to the library, I stumbled into Dallas Koch-a titan of industry and my best friend's father. He was a wall of cold, absolute power that even the Hydes feared. "Marry me," I blurted out, desperate to find a shield Anson couldn't climb. Dallas didn't laugh. He pulled out a marriage agreement and a heavy fountain pen. "Sign," he commanded, his voice a low rumble. "But if you walk out that door with me, you never go back." I signed my name, trading my life for the only man dangerous enough to keep me safe.

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book
Wrong Room: Sleeping With My Fiancé's Uncle Wrong Room: Sleeping With My Fiancé's Uncle Natala O'neal Billionaires
“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."”
1

Chapter 1 Manhattan Top Floor

10/03/2026

2

Chapter 2 The Wolf of Wall Street Descends

10/03/2026

3

Chapter 3 Fatal Interrogation in the Closet

10/03/2026

4

Chapter 4 Public Execution in the Arena of Fame

10/03/2026

5

Chapter 5 The Ruler's Twisted Game

10/03/2026

6

Chapter 6 Devastating Counterattack

10/03/2026

7

Chapter 7 The Shackles of Capital

10/03/2026

8

Chapter 8 Outside the Wardrobe Door

10/03/2026

9

Chapter 9 Demons Take Up Residence

10/03/2026

10

Chapter 10 The Tycoon's Banquet

10/03/2026

11

Chapter 11 Confrontation in the Corridor

10/03/2026

12

Chapter 12 The Socialite's Vicious Plot

10/03/2026

13

Chapter 13 Fateful Encounte

10/03/2026

14

Chapter 14 The Prey with Nowhere to Hide

10/03/2026

15

Chapter 15 Protecting Her in the Forbidden Zone

10/03/2026

16

Chapter 16 Forbidden Shackles

10/03/2026

17

Chapter 17 Absolute Suppression of Power

10/03/2026

18

Chapter 18 The End and the Temptation

10/03/2026

19

Chapter 19 A Dangerous Alliance

10/03/2026

20

Chapter 20 The Mask Holds, The Storm Comes

10/03/2026

21

Chapter 21 Stolen Formula

11/03/2026

22

Chapter 22 A Sharp Slap and a Vicious Conspiracy

11/03/2026

23

Chapter 23 Arsenio's Threat

11/03/2026

24

Chapter 24 The Obsidian Club

11/03/2026

25

Chapter 25 Prey and Hunter in the Abyss Suite

11/03/2026

26

Chapter 26 Violent Clearing

11/03/2026

27

Chapter 27 Did you drop your price list

11/03/2026

28

Chapter 28 Are you jealous

11/03/2026

29

Chapter 29 Catching Them in the Act

11/03/2026

30

Chapter 30 Absurd Vomiting and a Miserable Flight

11/03/2026

31

Chapter 31 Misunderstanding Cleared

11/03/2026

32

Chapter 32 Precious Water

11/03/2026

33

Chapter 33 Forty-Eight Hour Bet

11/03/2026

34

Chapter 34 Hypocritical Brunch

11/03/2026

35

Chapter 35 Cruel Abandonment in the Pouring Rain

11/03/2026

36

Chapter 36 Body Heat Inside the Maybach

11/03/2026

37

Chapter 37 Crisis in the Presidential Suite

11/03/2026

38

Chapter 38 An Elaborate Scam

11/03/2026

39

Chapter 39 The Fierce Wife Arrives

11/03/2026

40

Chapter 40 Crisis of Exposing the True Face

11/03/2026