His serpent-like tail wrapped around me, and he whispered in my ear, “You’ve locked me up for so long. Now, it’s your turn…” I was one of the top biologists in the Institute of Biology. After the experiment had failed, I was abducted by the snake-human hybrid I had created with my own two hands…
I got cancer, but my boyfriend didn’t know it. He gave up his dream university for me. He had also run to another woman anxiously without attending to me first when I had a car accident. I died. I died the day he watched fireworks abroad with his female secretary.
Lanie Today was the day I lost my freedom forever. “Oh my god. I can’t believe it! It’s finally time!” My best friend Mindy stormed into my bedroom. I loved her enthusiasm typically, but today wasn’t the day for it. I’d been dreading the mating ceremony for years. But now that I was eighteen, there was no way around it. Due to the shortage of she-wolves, I’d be assigned to my two mates today. And they could be anyone—from a neighboring pack, or guys I went to school with who had also just turned eighteen. And getting mated to any of the guys I went to school with? Gag me. And not in the sexy way. No one knew how the elders decided who was mated to who. And sure, some people ended up okay, like my mom and my dads. But sometimes? Sometimes it wasn’t so great. And the elders? They didn’t care. Once a woman was assigned to her mates, that was it for her. The only way out was death. And in that case? Lucky guys! They got a new mate. After all, the purpose was to rebuild the clans after the Great War, so basically, we she-wolves became nothing but incubators. Yay. I’d find a way out. Eventually. There was no way I was going to just spend the rest of my life having two men using me as their own personal sex toy. “You look like you’re going to prison or off to war or something right.” Mindy frowned at me. “I am.” * * * “Last Fall’s mating ceremony resulted in the birth of seven pups, and last Spring’s mating ceremony has resulted in three pregnancies so far. We hope this Fall’s ceremony will be just as fruitful.” The head elder, Aldon, gave a small nod of approval from his place on the stage set up in the middle of the town square. Polite applause sounded. This whole thing made me want to barf. But I wouldn’t dare do anything that could bring embarrassment to my family. The elders were known to be a bit…catty…with their assignments if someone displeased them. My sister was due to be mated in just a couple of years, and I would slice my own throat before I ever did something to compromise her fate. Mindy practically vibrated with excitement beside me, her gaze focused intently on the stage, her hand in mine. I gave her hand a little squeeze. I hoped we would get to stay in the same town. Being near her would help me through whatever came, even if I was separated from my family. “Pay attention,” Mindy hissed. “They’re starting now.” “Lanie Stanton!” Oh, shit. Why did I have to be first?
Lanie I took a deep breath and walked up onto the stage. My heart felt like it was about to beat right through my ribs. Dear gods, please don’t let me faint. Please, please, please don’t let me faint. I stood next to Elder Aldon and looked out into the crowd, above their heads, not seeing anything or anyone as my eyes fuzzed over. “Lanie Stanton, it is my pleasure to announce that you have been mated to Alpha Xander, and his Beta, Zane.” Wait, what? I was mated to the Alpha and his Beta? No, that couldn’t be right. Everyone knew they were both completely head over heels for Alice. Everyone expected the elders would mate her to them. I looked back over at Elder Aldon, who was staring at me. “Ex…Excuse me. I don’t think I heard you. Could you repeat that?” Elder Aldon stepped closer to me, so his black robe hid the fact that he grabbed my forearm roughly, his bony fingertips digging into my flesh. “You. Heard. What. I. Said.” He punctuated every word with a puff of onions-and-coffee breath, his grip on my arm increasing. I feared he would draw blood. “Go,” he growled, shoving me forward. I swallowed down my fear and turned to face Alpha Xander and Beta Zane, who were sitting on the other side of the stage. I did my best to hold my head high as I took slow, steady steps toward Xander and Zane—who were both looking at me with a mixture of pain and anger on their faces, their mouths contorted in snarls. Their wolves shined behind their eyes, and they glared at me. Xander’s hands were gripping the arms of his chair, looking almost as if he could snap the wood right off. They looked terrifying, and I wanted to run as far away as I could. I made it across the stage and stood in front of them, bowing my head slightly as I waited for them to speak, to tell me what to do. Because…they owned me now. *** Xander This. Would. Not. Stand. The elders had made a mistake, and I would force him to fix it immediately. If being Alpha stood for anything, Zane and I would at least get the match we wanted. “You’ve clearly made a mistake, Elder Aldon,” I said, my wolf rising closer to the surface, roiling with anger. “I assure you, we have not, Alpha Xander.” Aldon lifted his chin, his pointy nose tilted up like a pig sniffing for food. He disgusted me. This match disgusted me. I stood, shoving the little twit of a girl aside and walking toward Aldon, ignoring her gasp as she stumbled. As I towered over him, he backed up a step. “Sir… Alpha…the choice has been decided. Once it has been written, it cannot be undone.” “Anything can be undone.”
Xander I looked out at Alice. Tears streamed down her beautiful face, and her blue eyes screamed at me in agony. My heart sped up, and I wanted to go comfort her, tell her everything would be okay. Instead, I looked back to Zane and opened our mind link. “Go to her,” I told him. In seconds, he was by her side, holding her and whispering words of reassurance to her. My chest ached looking at them. That was my future. Me, my Beta, and Alice against the world, raising our pups, raising the next Alpha of the Constantine Clan. I turned back to Aldon, allowing my wolf to show its claws. “You will undo it. Find a way,” I commanded. Aldon’s wolf flashed in his eyes, along with something else I couldn’t place. But he looked off to the side out into the crowd and then backed down. Had he been in wolf form, his tail would have been between his legs. “Please, Alpha. Can we speak about this privately, and let us finish the rest of the mating ceremony?” I could barely hear him, and I scented his fear. “Finish the mating ceremony. Now.” I turned to go back to my seat. “Stay down there with her. And I swear to god, if he calls her to mate with someone, I’ll have his head,” I spoke to Zane. The fact that she was twenty and hadn’t yet been mated wasn’t lost on anyone. Alice had been treated horribly by many others in the pack for it, but I’d worked hard to sway the elders to put it off. Elder Aldon continued. “Next up, Alice Fabine. Mated to Gregory Bjorn and Lucas Spindler.” *** Zane I was going to kill him. I was going to jump onto that stage and tear him limb from limb and then make Xander declare that this whole mating process was done. That our pack was going to go its own way. Fuck everyone else. Alice trembled in my arms, sobbing as her name was called. My heart splintered, and I held her tighter, kissing the top of her head. It was all I could do not to partially shift and sink my fangs into her neck and claim her right there in front of everyone, elders be damned. “Alice, you must go to your assigned mates.” Elder Aldon’s voice was slimy, and my fangs dropped. “What in the fuck are we supposed to do?” I projected to Xander. “Just… Fuck.” Xander’s power radiated through the crowd as his anger notched up, and we all felt it in our bones. Just one of the reasons Alphas had to stay in constant control. Anything they felt was sent out to the rest of the pack if they didn’t have a tight rein on their emotions. “Xander… your rage is being fed to everyone here,” I warned. Our eyes met, and we both nodded. We knew what we had to do.
🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “397498”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #Luna #Threesome #MenageandMore #EnemiestoLovers #FatedMates #HatetoLove #ArrangedMarriage #AfterHours #Paranormal
I was married for a whole ten years, but my husband and I lived completely separate lives. He was head over heels for his secretary, while I had a bunch of younger guys on the side. I thought things would stay the same. Until I met a guy who didn’t care about my money but actually wanted my love and to marry me. It really hit me hard. So I told my husband I wanted a divorce. He lost it, wrecking the entire house and yelling at me, “How dare you take him seriously!?”
On the day I became his Mate, my best friend was attacked by rogues on her way to our ritual. Afterward, he embraced her tightly in his arms and blamed me. “Raina, it’s all your fault. You owe her.” From then on, the balance in his heart tilted entirely towards her. Later, as I lay dying from assassination, I made a final mind link with him for help. But he impatiently cut off the mind link. ‘Can’t you understand? She needs me. I can’t leave her right now!’ He didn’t know I was dying. In my new life, I decide to grant his desire. I’ll leave him understandingly, as he wished.
On my birthday, my boyfriend bought me a cake and celebrated the occasion with me in the classroom. When I closed my eyes and made a wish, someone suddenly pressed my head into the cake. I felt a sharp pain in my face. There was a blade hidden in the cake. When I opened my eyes again, something dazzling was shining on me. Someone laughed and took pictures of my face covered in cream and blood. My boyfriend who once took great care of me sat on the desk, laughing, and snapped his fingers. “Your dream ends now. Caitlyn, welcome to the real world.”
My dear teacher in high school thought I was a b*tch. She hated me so much and humiliated me endlessly. But, sheesh… Her baby boy, the handsome, straight-A student, loved me so much that he could even offer his soul to me.
Book One: BlockedBrit The first question Brit always got when people found out she played ice hockey was “Do you have all of your teeth?” The second was “Do you, you know, look at the guys in the locker room?” The first she could deal with easily—flash a smile of her full set of chompers, no gaps in sight. The second was more problematic. Especially since it was typically accompanied by a smug smile or a coy wink. Of course she looked. Everybody looked once. Everyone snuck a glance, made a judgment that was quickly filed away and shoved deep down into the recesses of their mind. And she meant way down. Because, dammit, she was there to play hockey, not assess her teammates’ six packs. If she wanted to get her man candy fix, she could just go on social media. There were shirtless guys for days filling her feed. But that wasn’t the answer the media wanted. Who cared about locker room dynamics? Who gave a damn whether or not she, as a typical heterosexual woman, found her fellow players attractive? Yet for some inane reason, it did matter to people. Brit wasn’t stupid. The press wanted a story. A scandal. They were desperate for her to fall for one of her teammates—or better yet the captain from their rival team—and have an affair that was worthy of a romantic comedy. She’d just gotten very good at keeping her love life—as nonexistent as it was—to herself, gotten very good at not reacting in any perceptible way to the insinuations. So when the reporter asked her the same set of questions for the thousandth time in her twenty-six years, she grinned—showing off those teeth—and commented with a sweetly innocent “Could’ve sworn you were going to ask me about the coed showers.” She waited for the room-at-large to laugh then said, “Next question, please.” *** This was it, the call up of her life. And Brit was sitting in the parking lot of the arena, unable to force her fingers off the steering wheel. “Get it together,” she muttered. “Or you will suck on the ice.” Harsh, probably. But the truth. Still, the words were enough. Enough to get her body in motion, to pop her door, and walk around to the trunk of her ten-year-old Corolla. Her gear was shoved inside the small space like a sausage threatening to burst from its casing. Brit grabbed the strap and hauled out her bag before slinging it across her shoulder. “You know they have guys for that.” The voice made her jump, and her gaze shot up, then up some more until she stared directly into the eyes of the captain of the San Francisco Gold, Stefan Barie. The slight tinge of a Minnesotan accent made her shiver. Uh-oh. And seriously, only a hockey fan would find a Minnesotan accent sexy. He smiled. “It’s the coldest-winter-is-summer-in-San-Francisco thing.” When she frowned, he cocked his head. “The wind chill.” What? “You know? Mark Twain?” Her brows pulled together. “I know who Mark Twain is, and I’m familiar with the quote. Though it’s a common misnomer, and Twain didn’t actually say it. Still, it is windy in the city . . . I just don’t know why you think I’m cold, and it’s not—” She shook herself. What was the point in her rambling? “Never mind.” This was what her mind did. Every single time. It drifted, focused on mundane details she then couldn’t prevent from bursting free. No surprise that once they were free, her conversations were punctuated with awkward pauses. Like the one happening now. Brit sighed. Give her an interview any time. Let her spout off sound bites to the camera and no problem. It was the real life human interactions that were terrible. “No,” Stefan said. “Tell me. What is it?” It was only because he seemed genuinely interested that she answered. “It’s not summer.” “What?” Another sigh. Yep. Way to go, genius. “It’s technically fall. Summer has been over for six-and-a-half days.” There was a moment of quiet, a long, uncomfortable pause during which neither of them spoke. Then surprisingly—shockingly—Stefan laughed. Her heart gave a little squeeze, her brain said, Uh-oh, but then before she could really panic, he spoke, “You’re absolutely right. Now come on.” Snagging her sticks, he nodded toward the arena. “I’ll show you the ropes.”
Oh no, this wouldn’t do.This. Would. Not. Do. Brit stared up at the obviously hastily created sign—black squiggles of Sharpie and crumpled computer paper tended to highlight that fact. This would not do. “Okay then. See you on the ice,” Stefan said, handing over her sticks and walking down the hall. Brit dropped her bag to the black skate mat laid across the concrete floor, pushed open the door, and peered inside the room, just to make sure it wasn’t full of her teammates, that this wasn’t a lame joke for the new girl. It wasn’t. Hot rage slid through her that she tried to swallow. She needed to be on her A-game. Needed to focus. And this wasn’t the players’ fault. Apparently, management had decided to go for this little endeavor on their own. Likely, they were trying to keep things PC in order to avoid a potential lawsuit. But this was Brit’s future. She fumbled for the switch and flipped on the light. Her heart sank further as a wave of disappointment welled up. It was exactly as she’d feared. A single bench. One equipment rack. Yup. Getting dressed by herself was sure going to help her integrate into the team. The locker room was the heart of any hockey team, where joking and ribbing and plenty of cursing took place. It was where she’d always felt most comfortable, and where she’d been able to find at least a few allies. How was she supposed to receive coaching sequestered by herself? Should she just watch the team bond and draw up plays without her? Miss the talk about D-pairs or changes in the system? She wasn’t the first woman to sign a contract with a professional men’s hockey team, but she was damn sure the first to have earned a chance at the backup goaltending spot. Which might someday lead to a starting position. A major step of which was connecting with her teammates. Brit let the door slam closed, shouldered her bag, and walked down the hall. She heard them before she saw them. “Chin up,” she murmured and pushed into the room. It took a few moments for the guys to notice her. Silence fell, stifling, hot, embarrassing. Not that a little embarrassment would stop her. Spotting an empty bench and rack, she walked across the room. Her bag hit the floor with a thud; her sticks clacked together as she set them against the wall. She could have heard a pin drop, could practically smell the smoke coming out of her teammates’ ears. Not about to let them get the drop on her and having been through this more than her fair share of times, Brit knew it was best to get the awkwardness over. She unzipped her bag, hung up her gear, then toed off her shoes and stripped down. All the way down. “Everyone get that good look,” she said into the quiet locker room. Her gaze slid around, meeting each of the guys’ in turn. Some were obviously confused or shocked, a couple were irritated by her or her interruption, and some were typical men—if their eyes glued to her breasts were any indication. Others—like Blane, her teammate now three times over—were familiar with her methods. He didn’t even blink at her nakedness, just kept his eyes on hers and nodded in greeting. “Get it out of your system,” she told the interested ones, “and get over it,” she said to the irritated section. She was here to stay, and if they had a problem . . . well, they could suck it. To the rest, she said, “Now let’s play some fucking hockey.” With that, she snagged her sports bra and underwear and started getting dressed. “Style points, sweet— I mean, Brit.” She grinned up at Blane, who was half-dressed and standing in front of her, and feigned indifference, even though her heart was pumping with jitters. This may not be her first professional hockey rodeo, but it was still the NHL, where the best came to play. No way she wanted to screw that up. “You know how it is,” she told him. Her anxiety eased when he stepped closer and gave her a quick hug. It was nice to have him there, especially since the two of them went way back, having played together in juniors. “Ten points out of ten.” His voice dropped. “You okay?” “Now I’m fine.” She was. And as soon as she got onto the ice, she’d be even better. “Good.” Her lips twitched. “Good for you to catch that sweetheart.” Blane grimaced, tapped his nose. “Hasn’t been the same since the first time I made the mistake of using it.” She’d been young with a chip on her shoulder the size of a redwood. Blane had made the mistake of trying to prove to his friends he could get in her pants. The result had been a broken nose for him and a month-long grounding for her. But they’d gotten that nonsense out of the way, had settled into a warm and easy friendship. “I’d say sorry—” she began. “But I wouldn’t believe you anyway.” He grinned. “Glad you’re here,” he said and crossed back to his spot to finish getting dressed. Brit grabbed her pelvis protector, pulled it on, then snagged the black and gold striped socks that had been in the other dressing room. Just as she was about to slip one over her foot, a soft voice interrupted her. “Well done,” Stefan said. She turned to look at him, not having noticed he was in the stall next to hers, and her heart gave a little tremble. Which she ignored. Obviously. He raised two fingers in silent salute before continuing to get dressed. Slowly, noise filtered back in through the room, lewd jokes punctuated by awkward pauses as the guys glanced toward her for her reaction. “You’ll have to do better than that,” she called after a particularly bad one. “I’ve heard that lame excuse for a joke before.” Stefan snorted, and her eyes flashed to his. Was it pride in his gaze? Annoyance? She couldn’t tell a damned thing. She’d just knelt atop her pads and begun strapping them on when Coach Bernard came in. He hesitated for the briefest moment, as though surprised to see her, then plugged an iPad into a cord in the corner of the room. The image on the tablet’s screen was projected onto the far wall, and he ran through each of the drills in turn. “Move it,” he told them. “Ten minutes.” On the way out, he paused near Brit, glared, then inclined his head to an open door just off the main part of the locker room. “When you’re finished.” She nodded, tied the last couple of straps, and stood. Leaving her chest protector and helmet on the shelf above the bench, she walked to Bernard’s office. Her pulse raced, and her palms were sweaty. His expression had said this chat wouldn’t be concerning her welcome party. The buckles on her leg pads clinked when she hesitated on the threshold. Bernard glanced up from a stack of papers on his desk and waved at her. “Come in.” Brit shuffled her way inside, waited. Bernard studied her, his face completely impassive, and yet there was something under the surface. It wasn’t dislike exactly, but she got the feeling he hadn’t been one hundred percent on board with her being there. Well, tough. She’d prove herself to him as well. Just as soon as she figured out a way to end this god-awful silence. A minute went by. He stared at her as she stood there, half-dressed and awkwardly taciturn. Eventually, she cleared her throat and asked, “You wanted to see me?” “Yes, Brittany—” “Brit,” she interrupted automatically. Bernard didn’t say anything for another long moment, only regarded at her with a raised brow. Her gut went tight as she stared back. Last thing she wanted to do was get on the wrong foot with management and, between her locker room striptease and interrupting the coach, she had the feeling she was off to a very bad start. “Brit,” he finally said, “I think you’re a good player, don’t doubt that. But I’m not sure you being here is the best thing for the Gold.” Ouch. The Gold were the NHL’s newest expansion team, a controversial addition—and an unnecessary one at that, some thought—in the already professionally crowded, but hockey-hungry Bay Area. As with most expansion teams, they weren’t very good, which wasn’t unusual, but the owners were running out of patience, and the team had gotten some bad press last season: carousing, the odd DUI, then a scandal involving one of their top players and a rape allegation. Couple that with losing the majority of games . . . Rumor had it, if the team didn’t improve this season, the owners might sell. “You think I’m a publicity stunt.” A way to clean up the Gold’s image rather than a valuable addition to the team. It wasn’t something she hadn’t already thought of. Bottom line, though, was it didn’t matter what management’s motivations were. This was her chance to play at the highest level possible. To be the first woman to do so. It was a really big deal, no matter the pushback she would have to withstand. God knew, she’d already endured plenty of it from the media, from other players in the league, from her own mother, who worried she might be in over her head. Outwardly, she held onto a shield of confidence, pretended all of the naysayers had no freaking clue. But inside? She did wonder if she was good enough. Only time would tell. Still, Brit knew one thing. And it was a big one. She knew she could deal with pretty much anything if it meant she could play hockey. The sport was in her heart, in every single nerve ending and cell. She never felt more at home than when she was on the ice. “Maybe you’re a publicity stunt. And maybe it’ll work out.” He shrugged, like it wasn’t her future he was so casually dismissing. “But my experience tells me not.” “Well, thanks for the vote of confidence.” She didn’t bother trying to keep the sarcasm from her voice. Any bridges she might have worried about conserving had been burned long before she’d even set foot in the locker room. Bernard sighed. “You’re talented. I’ll give you that much. Your glove hand is one of the fastest I’ve ever seen. But you’re shorter than the male goalies and weak on your upper blocker side. That will need improvement if you want a chance at a start.” “Noted,” she said. “I’ll work on it.” And she would. “Good.” A beat of quiet. “See you on the ice.” With a nod, she left the office, knowing that despite Bernard’s lack of confidence in her abilities, he had spoken the truth. She was shorter. Her blocker side—the hand that held her goalie stick and was protected by a large rectangular pad—was her biggest weakness. It wasn’t as if she could grow six inches on the spot, but . . . she could work on her technique, bust her ass, and practice hard. Harder than she ever had before.
A man stood next to Brit’s stall when she came out of Bernard’s office. Mid-fifties with close-cropped white hair, he wore a black tracksuit with the Gold’s logo and skates. A pair of gloves and a stick were propped next to her gear.“Brit,” he said, putting out his hand for her to shake. “I’m Frank, but the boys call me Frankie, so feel free.” Call him Frankie? Words literally would not form on her tongue. Because she already knew who the man was. Had researched each member of the Gold’s coaching staff before she’d signed her contract. But that didn’t stop her from being starstruck. Frank wasn’t just Frankie. He was Franklin Todd, renowned goalie coach and former professional player, and just about as close as she got to a hockey orgasm. Meeting him, talking to him was better than shutting down a cocky forward on a breakaway, better than stacking the pads and stealing an almost-guaranteed goal. He was her idol. Except . . . Her heart sank because he probably felt the same way as Bernard. She was an annoyance, a not-quite-good-enough player. Worse. She was a girl. Well, fuck that. Straightening her shoulders, Brit glanced up and forced herself to witness the derision in Frankie’s eyes firsthand. Except it wasn’t there. She stumbled for a moment before settling on “H-hi, Frankie.” He grinned, grabbed up his stick and gloves. “Hi, yourself. Don’t let Bernard get to you. He’s a hardass to every new player, and he especially doesn’t like rookies.” She shrugged into her chest protector and began securing it in place. It was strange to be considered a rookie at her ripe old age. In hockey, rookies tended to be in their teens, or sometimes their early twenties. Definitely not well on their way to their third decade. But that aside, she decided to ask the bigger question. “Why’d he agree to have me on the team?” If she’d been expecting a platitude about Bernard really liking her on the inside or some crap, she’d have been wrong. “He had no choice.” Okay then. “I wanted you and threatened to walk if management didn’t give you a contract.” Brit was dumbfounded for a long moment before she found her voice. “But . . . why?” She’d had her fair share of supporters through the years, her brother, some coaches and players, a small—very small—segment of fans who knew who she was. But why would someone she’d never met—someone she didn’t know—put his neck out for her? “I saw you in Buffalo.” She frowned, thought back to all the times she’d played in Buffalo. Only one game stood out. And not because they’d dominated. “But we got creamed.” Her team had lost 8-1, and she remembered each of the four goals that she’d let in with crystal-clear accuracy. The two periods she’d played had been some of her worst hockey ever. “I know.” Confused, she just stared at him. “You let in some soft ones.” Was that supposed to make her feel better? “But after you were pulled”—after the coach had taken her out of the game and let the other goalie play—“you stayed on the bench instead of going to the locker room.” Brit remembered sitting there, at first because she hadn’t wanted to make the walk of shame past her teammates, and then in sympathy when the score continued to rise. “Yeah, I did.” Frankie watched her for a long moment, his eyes fixed on hers, as though willing her to understand. She didn’t. Big deal. She sat on the bench. It isn’t like she’d done it for unselfish reasons. Frankie sighed, clapped her on the shoulder, and turned toward the hall that led to the ice. “Five minutes.”
I pretended to be my sister and looked after her blind fiancé for a hefty sum of five hundred grand. When he finally regained his sight, I vanished without a word. Fate brought us together again at a press conference. I was just a nobody journalist, and he had risen to power in the wealthy Sinclair family. “We heard your fiancée took great care of you when you were sick. Can we expect a wedding soon?” He smirked and flashed his engagement ring on camera. “Real soon.” As he spoke, I was the only one who noticed his gaze drifting towards me every now and then…
“Yes. Yes. Fuck yes.” His deep voice echoed in the dimly lit bedroom, accompanied by heavy breathing.On the bedside table, his phone started to ring, but he ignored it. Cordelia was annoyed at herself for enjoying this, but his deep, powerful thrusts into her body were too pleasurable. Only once a month would they have sex. Tonight, Elijah was particularly passionate, almost pushing her to the brink of passing out. And in the dark, Cordelia could close her eyes so as not to see how coldly he looked at her, despite his desire. She sank into the feeling of him moving inside her, and came to an intense climax, her whole body shaking with pleasure. Elijah came at almost the exact same time, then immediately separated himself from her body and answered the ringing phone. His indifference pierced her heart, as it always did. They’d been married for three years, and ever since their wedding day, rumors of his affairs with other women had never ceased. She pretended not to know about it, even defending him in front of others. But she maintained the image of their “perfect” marriage on her own. “Don’t cry. I’ll be right there.” Elijah’s voice was soft as he spoke on the phone to his mistress. Cordelia had done some sleuthing and knew her name was Ava. Elijah never spoke to Cordelia so sweetly, and her heart ached to hear it. Then he hung up and quickly dressed. “I won’t be staying here tonight,” he said in a flat tone. Cordelia stared at him for a long time. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a thick head of hair. His muscles were well-defined, matching his chiseled, handsome face. Before they’d married, Elijah was the man that all the socialites in the city fantasized about. Just one look at his charming smile, and they were enchanted. It was a pity that Cordelia figured out he was a jerk only after they were wed. When Elijah reached the bedroom door, she finally spoke, her voice intentionally emotionless. “Elijah… I want a divorce.” Elijah paused, his cold eyes turning back to her. “Didn’t I satisfy you tonight? What else do you want?” “I’m tired of this sham marriage. What’s the point of staying together?” Elijah sneered, “Fine, but you better not change your mind.” “Don’t worry,” Cordelia said with certainty. “I won’t.” With just a shrug at this news, Elijah left. And as soon as he was gone, reality came crashing down on Cordelia. He didn’t even put up a fight! She clutched the quilt tightly as emotions flooded through her, her lips trembling. Her only consolation was that at least she made the right choice: to leave. *** Early the next morning, Elijah returned to their villa, dark circles under his eyes from exhaustion. He sat at the breakfast table, rubbing his temples. “Nora,” he said to their maid. “Get Cordelia. I need her to massage my shoulders.” But to his surprise, Nora replied, “Mr. Hansen, Mrs. Hansen left early this morning. She asked me to give these to you.” Elijah’s eyes widened as Nora handed him a set of house keys and a divorce agreement. “That damn woman!” he cried, suddenly furious. Had Cordelia been serious? Gritting his teeth, Elijah took out his phone and dialed Cordelia’s number. It went straight to voicemail. He tried again, and again. No answer. Furious, Elijah slammed the phone onto the dining table so hard it shattered the screen. He never thought she’d do it. He wasn’t going down without a fight.
Cordelia stood in the sunlight of her dance studio, clutching her phone to her ear.She gazed at the city outside, her eyes filled with determination as she spoke. “Mom, for the past three years, you and Kevin have gotten what you wanted from my marriage to the Hansen family. I’m done!” Janice Deleon’s voice was loud and sharp, even through the phone. “You can’t just divorce Elijah! You two should try harder! Is there something you need to apologize to him for?” “No, stop telling me I need to apologize to him! I haven’t done anything wrong!” She clenched her fists, but it did little to ease the heavy pain in her heart she felt when she thought of her marriage. “Cordelia, why are you being so stubborn?!” her mother berated her. “You need to take my advice! I’m your mother. If you were as sensible as your sister—” Cordelia hung up the phone. She couldn’t stand to listen to her mother drone on about how she could never measure up to her half-sister. Now she saw she had half a dozen missed calls from Elijah. Why is he calling? she thought. Is he unsatisfied with the terms of the divorce agreement? She wasn’t going to cater to whatever his demands were. She was too busy today. Cordelia had always believed that women could live without romantic relationships, but they needed to have their own careers. So years ago she’d started her own dance studio, and it was thriving. Cordelia was giving a tour to a businessman who was interested in a sponsorship opportunity.” Today, she wore a one-shoulder dress, exposing her smooth shoulders and delicate collarbone, a shining diamond necklace adorning her slender neck. The businessman couldn’t take his eyes off her, captivated by her beauty. “Did I come at a bad time?” a voice suddenly called out. Cordelia whipped around. “Elijah? What are you doing here?” He was leaning against the door, faintly smiling as he observed Cordelia and the businessman, who were standing very close to each other, looking at a contract. “Are you busy, darling?” he asked casually. She couldn’t read his expression. “Alright, let’s call it a day. We can finish discussing this tomorrow,” Cordelia said to the businessman, shaking his hand. As soon as the man left, Elijah stormed over to her. “Will you stop this divorce joke already?” He was angry and impatient. She smiled bitterly. “It’s not a joke. I want a divorce.” “It’s not?” He closed the short distance between them, his eyes never leaving hers. With each step he took, she could feel her anxiety growing, but she tried to remain composed. Suddenly, he placed his hands on her waist and drew her into him. His voice was low and playful as he asked, “Why won’t you be a good girl for me?” Then he kissed her cheek, his warm breath sending shivers down her spine. Cordelia’s body stiffened. She asked, “What do you want, Elijah?” He chuckled, lifting her chin with his fingers so their eyes met. Then he said, “Let’s have a baby.”
“That’s crazy,” she said.“Is it?” And then he kissed her. She wanted to pull away, but something about his words had struck something deep inside her. Instead, she felt herself melting into his kiss, savoring the taste of his lips and his heady scent, a subtle blend of tea and bourbon. Elijah’s hands traveled down her body and slid under her skirt, and the memory of their lovemaking the night before made dizzy with sudden desire. But then Elijah’s phone rang, and in an instant Cordelia snapped back to reality. She knew who it was. His mistress. He didn’t want to have a baby with her. He was taunting her! She pushed herself out of his grasp. Impatiently, Elijah answered the phone call. “What? What’s the matter now?” he said into the phone. Standing so close to him, Cordelia could hear Ava’s sobs and whimpers from the other end of the call. “Elijah, it hurts so much,” Ava said. “Why haven’t you come yet?” Elijah glanced at Cordelia, and she took the opportunity to step farther away from him. She straightened her clothes. “I’ll be there soon,” Elijah said softly to Ava. He hung up and looked at Cordelia for a long beat. “We have dinner with my parents tomorrow night,” he said. “I’ll pick you up at six.” Cordelia’s mouth dropped open. “Didn’t you tell them we’re getting a divorce?” “Let’s put that conversation on hold for now.” Elijah suddenly looked worried. It wasn’t an expression she often saw on him. “My father’s been having some heart problems lately, and I don’t want to give him unneeded stress.” She sighed. “Elijah, I’ve already made arrangements for the divorce. I have no obligation to play along with your charade.” “Fifty thousand dollars for one dinner with my parents,” he countered. She paused and thought it over. She didn’t like to compromise her principles. But that was a lot of money. “Okay,” Cordelia agreed. “But if you lay a finger on me during the ‘performance,’ there’ll be an additional charge.” “Deal.” Cordelia held up her phone. “Send me the payment now.” She wasn’t going to be played for a fool. Elijah’s eyes widened at her boldness. He stared at her for a moment, then he took out his phone and tapped on it. “Done. See you tomorrow.” Cordelia smiled with satisfaction, but once the door closed behind him, a deep sadness settled over her. “Let’s have a baby? How could I even think for a second he was serious?” she scolded herself. Her heart ached, and she hated herself for even agreeing to the dinner. A few seconds later, her phone rang. It was her best friend, Imogen. “Cordelia, I need your help!” Imogen cried. Cordelia furrowed her brows. “What’s wrong?” “I sprained my foot, and I have a performance next Friday. Can you stand in for me?” Imogen pleaded. Cordelia quickly checked her schedule, “I can, actually. I should have enough time to practice before then.” “Thank you so much!” Imogen said gratefully, and then she laughed. “This isn’t too terrible a request, because my dance partner is very attractive. You think you can handle the heat?” Imogen knew Cordelia was in a loveless marriage. “Haha. It’ll be fine.” She was about to be freed from her loveless marriage. She could finally return to her old, happier self. Maybe she would flirt with this sexy dance partner. Why shouldn’t she? Elijah had cheated on her many times throughout their marriage, and she never had. Cordelia thought it would be interesting to see how Elijah reacted to her being with another man. In fact, maybe she would mention it at dinner…
Cordelia spent the next whole day dancing and rehearsing.At exactly 6 p.m., Elijah called her. “Where are you? I’m at the house to pick you up.” “Shoot, I lost track of the time,” she said, out of breath. “Don’t you dare try to cheat me out of my money!” he said, instantly furious. “We made a deal!” Cordelia became angry, too. “The only cheater here is you,” she said, and hung up. Well, this was going to make for an interesting family dinner. Cordelia quickly showered, changed into nice clothes, and touched up her makeup. Elijah had come to pick her up. His breath hitched as he caught sight of Cordelia walking through the studio doors. She was dressed in a sleek black V-neck dress, accentuating her curvy figure. With her natural beauty and the added touch of makeup, she looked absolutely enchanting, a woman that any man would fall for. Her expression was light, too, as if she had a secret. Suddenly, a thought occurred to Elijah. “Why do you look so nice?” he demanded as she approached the car. Cordelia looked at him like he was insane. “I dressed up for dinner, like I always do.” “Is there someone else?” he asked. “Is that why you’re in such a hurry to divorce me? You’ve already found someone new?” Cordelia was amazed by Elijah’s reaction. Did he care for her, or not? It was so confusing. Cordelia glared at him, and she retorted, “Oh, so you’re suspicious of me? Isn’t that rich. The cheater’s worried he’s getting cheated on?” “Why else would you be breathing so heavily when you answered the phone earlier?” Elijah replied hotly, his gaze intense. “Who were you just with?” “No one. Not that it’s your business.” Elijah grabbed her by the waist. “Tell me the truth! Are you seeing someone new?” She glared at him icily. “I was practicing dance, you idiot. Now let go of me.” Instead, he kissed her. Then he let her go. She gaped at him, stunned. “What is up with you?!” Elijah said, “I’m reminding you that we’re still married.” *** When they arrived at his parents’ house an hour later, Cordelia was greeted by her in-laws, Edith and Gabe Hansen. Edith was cold, just like her son, but Gabe greeted her with his usual warm smile. Elijah kept his arm around her, pretending everything was peachy. She forced a smile as she looked at him, but her eyes were devoid of affection. “Cordelia, you look well. How is the studio?” Gabe asked. “Terrific, Gabe.” Cordelia smiled. “Business keeps growing. I’m very fortunate.” “So you’re still not pregnant?” Edith abruptly asked. Cordelia, caught off guard, swallowed and lowered her eyes. This was a sensitive subject for her. “You two should see the doctor about it. It’s time. Elijah?” “Oh, sure,” he said, smiling at Cordelia. “We definitely should.” He was really doing a command performance of being dedicated to her. She gave him a fake smile in return. “I think it’s a wonderful idea.” She could play this game, too. “Good!” Edith cried. “We have one of the best fertility doctors right here in town. You two will stay here tonight and see him first thing in the morning.” Cordelia’s mouth opened in surprise. Stay here, in the same bed as Elijah? “We’d love to, Mother,” Elijah said with a grin before she could respond.
Cordelia wasn’t sure what to say. On one hand, she didn’t want to spend the night in a bed next to the man she’d gladly decided to divorce. But she’d taken the fifty thousand, and she had to pretend everything was okay. Who knows how much she’d get in the divorce settlement… She needed to hang on to as much money as she could. Cordelia gritted her teeth and smiled at Edith. “Sounds great, thank you.” Elijah smirked at her across the table. Cordelia wanted to kick him hard in the shins, but resisted. The rest of the meal she was quiet. Once dinner was over and they were in the bedroom, Cordelia looked around for an alternative. “I can sleep on the floor,” she said. Elijah laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’ll both sleep in the bed.” In their three years of marriage, they’d rarely shared a bed. Yet now, he acted as if it were the most natural thing in the world for them to sleep together. Satisfied with her silence, he turned and headed into the bathroom. Before long, his phone began buzzing. At first, it was a few message notifications, but then the calls started pouring in, one after another. Cordelia knew who it was, of course. Ava was a demanding mistress. Elijah poked his head out of the bathroom. “Can you pass me the phone?” “It’s right on the bed. Get it yourself,” Cordelia spat. He grinned mischievously. “Sure.” Then he stepped out of the bathroom, completely naked and dripping wet. Cordelia held back a squeak and quickly turned her head to the window, silently cursing him. Elijah chuckled as he picked up the phone, standing right in front of her. At the sight, Cordelia rolled her eyes and said, “Perv!” He laughed again and went back into the bathroom, leaving a trail of water in his wake. When he emerged from the bathroom again, he wasn’t dressed for bed, but to go out. “Actually, you can have the bed to yourself,” he said, gathering his things. “You’re serious?” Cordelia asked, shocked. “You’re going to leave me at your parents’ house to go see your mistress?” Elijah shrugged. “You said you prefer to sleep alone. Win-win.” “No, I prefer to not have come here and performed this stupid charade all night, and then again tomorrow, just because you don’t have the backbone to be honest with your parents.” “You get your money either way,” Elijah retorted. “I don’t see what you’re so upset about. I’ll be back in the morning.” Cordelia’s eyes filled with hot tears. How could he be like this? How could anyone be so cold? She turned her back to him, and after a second, he left. She listened to him go downstairs, her ears waiting for the sound of the front door shutting and his car starting. They never came. A few minutes later, Elijah came back upstairs. Had he rethought leaving? Maybe he wasn’t a complete monster, after all. He came into the room looking annoyed, and stood awkwardly in the doorway. Cordelia wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of asking why he’d returned. Eventually, he cleared his throat and said, “My mother is downstairs.” Cordelia still didn’t turn around. “I said I was going for a drive, and she insisted I come back up here and take you with me.” Cordelia laughed to herself. Had Edith guessed what her son was up to? Or had she accidentally hit on the most awkward possible scenario? “So,” Elijah said to Cordelia’s back. “Will you come downstairs?” Cordelia wanted to do anything but go for a romantic drive with Elijah. But then she realized she could benefit herself. “I want ten thousand dollars more.” There was a moment of silence. Cordelia could hear the anger in Elijah’s voice when he responded. “Fine.” So she stood up and followed him downstairs. “Oh, good,” Edith said when they appeared. “It’s a nice night for a drive.” Then she added, “Cordelia, come here. I have something for you.” She beckoned her into the kitchen and Cordelia followed. There, Edith grabbed Cordelia by the wrist. “You can’t let him walk all over you.” “What are you talking about?” Cordelia asked, taken aback. “We both know where he was headed tonight. You need to grow a spine and stand up to him.” Cordelia nodded, her face burning. Had Edith known all along? She returned to the front door and followed Elijah to the car. Edith was right; she hadn’t ever put up a fight all these years with Elijah. In fact, slapping him with the divorce had been quite out of character for her. It felt good to finally demand some respect from him. Maybe he would finally get the message now. Cordelia had been so lost in thought, she hadn’t noticed where they were. “Where are we going?” she asked. “To Ava’s.” Cordelia’s mouth dropped open.
“We’re going to your mistress’s house?!” Cordelia exclaimed in shock.“I had already told her I’d come over,” Elijah said impatiently. “She was injured in a fire at the hospital where she works, and she needs my help.” Cordelia shook her head. Of all the unsympathetic things Elijah had done, this was surely the worst. She felt as if something heavy had taken up residence in her chest. “Besides,” he added, “if we’re getting divorced, it shouldn’t matter to you.” He cut a sidelong glance at her as he said this. Cordelia kept her expression stony. She was angry and sad, but she wasn’t going to let him see it. They arrived at a luxury high-rise apartment building. Elijah parked the car and entered the building, Cordelia following close behind. She noted that he had a key and opened the door as if it was his own place. Meanwhile, her heart was racing. She was about to meet her husband’s mistress, of all things! Her stomach began to ache, and she felt like a joke just being there. As Cordelia entered the apartment, a girl with a sweet face came rolling out of the bedroom in a wheelchair. Her face was tearstained, but she smiled up at Elijah sweet as sugar as he strode over to her. “You finally came,” Ava said breathlessly. Elijah took a tissue from the counter, knelt by her wheelchair, and gently wiped away her tears. “Of course, I came,” he said caringly. Cordelia suddenly felt a sharp pain in her chest. Her throat tightened. She felt like she was drowning, watching the two of them. “How is the burn healing?” Elijah asked softly. “Let me see.” Ava unbuttoned her shirt, revealing her wounded shoulder without any hesitation. The burn wounds ran all along her skin, leaking some fluid. They looked horrifying. Elijah’s face turned grim. “Ava, you need to go to the hospital and let a doctor see this again. I’ll take you tomorrow.” “Okay,” she said sweetly, smiling up at him with big, helpless eyes. “If you say so.” She reached out and took his hand. As Elijah stood up, holding her hand, Ava’s glance fell on the room behind him, and the woman in the doorway. “Elijah…” she said, her face going slack with shock. “Who is that?” “My wife,” Elijah said. Ava gasped, stunned and upset. “Why would you bring her here, Elijah?!” she cried. “I had to. Listen, I came to make sure you’re okay. Let me put you in bed.” For a few seconds, Ava just stared at Cordelia. Then her expression shifted from shock to sweetness. “Okay, my darling,” she said to Elijah, fluttering her lashes at him. “You always look out for me so well. I know I’m your number one.” Ava looked at Cordelia through her lashes with undisguised provocation. But Cordelia didn’t give her the satisfaction of reacting, keeping calm and cool as Elijah took hold of the wheelchair and pushed Ava into the bedroom. Cordelia was glad when they disappeared. It was so hard, pretending she didn’t care. That she wasn’t humiliated to have her husband caring for his mistress right in front of her face! She took a seat on the couch, wondering how long she’d have to wait for them to finish their business. In the meantime, she took out her phone and messaged someone to check whether Ava owned this luxury apartment herself. Her heart dropped when she got the response: Elijah was the owner. So Elijah owned an apartment she didn’t even know about, and he’d moved his mistress into it. As Cordelia pondered this, the bedroom door opened and Elijah walked out. “I’ll come back again tomorrow,” he said gently to Ava, as he pulled the door shut after him. He walked over to Cordelia. “Let’s go,” he said, and Cordelia rose from the couch. She’d slid off one of her shoes while she waited, and now stumbled a bit, putting it back on. Elijah caught her before she fell. “Oh,” she said, surprised, hanging onto his arm. “Thank you.” “Elijah!” Ava’s voice suddenly called urgently. “Elijah, I need you!” Elijah sighed, released Cordelia, and turned back to the bedroom. Cordelia, intrigued about Ava’s sharp call, looked around the room carefully. Then she saw it. Perched at the top of the bookcase was a camera. The red light was blinking. “Hmm,” Cordelia thought, a plan forming in her mind. When Elijah finally emerged again, she was sitting on the couch. He nodded toward the door, and she delicately held out her hand for him to help her up. As Elijah pulled her to her feet, she deliberately fell into his arms. He caught her, their bodies pressing against each other. With a smile, Cordelia slid her arms around his neck. “I was just thinking about how hot things got the other night,” she murmured to him, and then, with a quick glance at the camera, she leaned in and whispered seductively in his ear. “Let’s do it again. Now.”
Elijah smirked at her words. It was rare that Cordelia tried to seduce him, and when she did, he had never turned her down. Indeed, it was perhaps because it was so rare that he found it so exciting. Tonight was no exception. He slid one hand down her body, and the other into her hair. “You want it, don’t you?” He looked at her, a fire in his eyes. Cordelia was actually a little excited by how inflamed he was by her words. She pressed her body against his. “I do,” she said with a saucy grin. Elijah gave her ass a squeeze and then pulled her toward the door. For the briefest moment before the door closed behind them, Cordelia heard with satisfaction a scream of anger from Ava’s bedroom. When they got into the car, Elijah leaned in to pick up where they left off, but Cordelia held up a hand to stop him. She straightened her dress. “You know what?” she said. “I’ve reconsidered. You brought me here to humiliate me. You don’t deserve to have me.” As Elijah stared at her speechless, she buckled herself in and didn’t even glance his way the whole drive back. When they reached his parent’s house, she informed Elijah that he’d be sleeping on the living room couch unless he wanted her to wake his parents and tell them everything. Elijah was frustrated but seemed too surprised by her behavior to put up a fight. Edith had been right—it felt good to stand up for herself. Cordelia locked the bedroom door and fell into a deep, contented sleep. *** Cordelia kept herself busy over the following days, completely ignoring all of Elijah’s messages, of which there were many. He’d never been so eager for her attention before. Cordelia, though, wasn’t falling for it. His kindness and attention would be short-lived, she knew. He simply wanted to know she was his, and then he’d move on to someone else. Annoyed at her phone constantly buzzing, she finally replied to Elijah that he should only contact her once he’d signed the divorce papers. After she sent the message, his texts immediately stopped. The next day, Cordelia met her lawyer at Ava’s apartment building. She wanted his assessment about whether it should be included in the divorce. As they walked up the stairs to the apartment, Cordelia heard a familiar voice. Elijah. She realized the door to Ava’s apartment was open, and she and the lawyer ducked out of sight as they listened. “I’ll see you again soon, darling.” Elijah spoke with a gentle tone. “Elijah, promise me you aren’t sleeping with her!” Ava cried. “Tell me you aren’t going back to your wife right now.” Cordelia almost laughed out loud when she heard Ava’s words. She had actually managed to sow the seeds of doubt in Elijah’s mistress! “Of course not,” Elijah said reassuringly. “Cordelia and I are done.” “I couldn’t bear it, I couldn’t,” Ava sobbed. “Promise me.” “Ava, I promise you. I keep promising you.” Cordelia, having lived with Elijah for three years, recognized the hint of impatience creeping into his voice. “It’s just that the two of you seemed so close the other night—” “Enough, Ava. I have to go.” Elijah’s tone was firm. This was different from the gentle tone Cordelia had always heard him use with Ava. Satisfied, Cordelia gestured to the lawyer that they should quietly slip away. As they snuck away, Ava took out her phone and showed Elijah the screen. “Elijah, there’s a ballet performance tonight. Can you take me to it?” “I already told you, I have to work tonight.” “But, I really want you to come with me,” Ava whined. “Please, please, please… Or are you going to be with your wife?” Tears sprang to her eyes. Elijah sighed. “Fine. We’ll go.” Ava grinned inwardly, delighted at getting her way. *** Night fell, and Elijah fulfilled his promise to Eva. He brought her to a VIP box seat. On the ballet show’s poster, the male and female leads were wearing masks. It was said that they were ballet stars, and their identities would be revealed during the performance. The gimmick was hyped up enough to create anticipation, and it was clear that the crowd was eager to learn who the dancers were. Backstage, Cordelia was getting into her gorgeous costume, her lips painted fiery red. It had been a while since she’d performed, and she was admittedly a little nervous. Imogen came in, leaning on a crutch. “The theater is packed! This is going to be a legendary performance!” Cordelia took a peek out of the curtains. The theater was indeed packed, with no empty seats. She said a little mantra to herself to keep calm. She was just here, she reminded herself, to help out a friend. No pressure! She scanned the audience. And then she saw, in the VIP box, her husband and his mistress. “Oh no!” Cordelia cried.
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