
Seducing My Fiance's Uncle
"Don't you dare touch me. You bloody monster," Eric whispered glaring at me, which only turned me on the more.
A beautiful smile crossed my lips; luckily for us, his fake mother was so focused on Katherine, she did not know I was fucking her son before her eyes.
"So I am now a monster, huh? That was not what you said yesterday. Or have you forgotten about our hot night?" I asked as I traced my way to his lap again, approaching his groin area.
He swallowed hard, his eyes roaming around. "Damien. I am Katherine's fiancé. your niece" He reminded me as my hands reached his groan, caressing it through the layers of his trousers.
"Yesterday you were Mike's boyfriend, and what did I tell you? I don't give a fuck!," I whispered back. "Now be quiet and try to control yourself" .
Eric's life is thrown upside down when his brother is killed on his coronation day, and he now has to become the king. and he can't because he is gay and he has a boyfriend who he loves dearly, or so he thought until he met Damien Monetro, his fiancée's uncle and his former one-night stand
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Chapter 1
Eric POV
Tears blurred my eyes as I stared at my brother's photo. His memory still fresh in my brain like it was yesterday. We were so happy; he was getting his dream and finally becoming the king of Elorida, and I was happy for him.
Until he was shot, minutes before his crown was placed on his head. His blood stained my shirt, gushing through him as his hand held on to me tightly like he was fighting for his life until he closed his eyes and died.
Today makes it a week.
And all of a sudden I became seen. I became the next heir. I was usually referred to as the spare son, and now everyone is waiting for me to take over my brother's place and become king.
A situation I cannot allow to happen.
One, I don't like the role.
Two, I am gay, and gays can't be king. It has been a long-time tradition.
My phone's ringing tone echoed around my room, drawing my eyes from my brother's photo. I reached out for my phone, which was by my bedside.
A smile graced my lips as I stared at the person calling. It was Mike, my boyfriend.
“Hello, babe, how…
“Don't call me babe!” He shouted across the phone. His voice was filled with anger.
I furrowed my eyebrows. Mike has never shouted at me. Never, not even when we had an issue. So what the hell is going on?
“What happened? Did I do something wrong?” I asked quietly.
“Did you do something wrong?” He asked, his voice laced with a heavy sarcasm. “You visited my house yesterday, fucked me, and today you announce to the whole country that you are getting married to some stupid girl, and you ask me if you did anything wrong?” He asked, his voice trembling, shaking with pain as he sniffed.
Marriage? I don't remember discussing marriage with anyone. For someone to get married, the person has to have a girlfriend, and I don't have anyone.
Or maybe it was some false news.
I heaved a sigh. All these bloggers! Taking in a deep breath, I tried to assure Mike that I was his and would always be.
“I don't know who told you, but that news is fake. Okay? I am not getting married to anyone. I can't get married without a fiancé,and besides, I have made it clear to my mum that I don't want the crown,” I explained.
“Really? Then how come your mother took it upon herself to go live on TV and announce your marriage with her own mouth, and it is happening in three days time! Eric, three fucking days. I told you not to break my heart, and you go and shatter it in the worst way ever! I hate you. I hate you so, so much, and we are done! Screw you! The queen and whoever you are getting married to!” He shouted and cut the call before I could say a word.
I rushed towards the TV in my room and turned it on. Colour drained from my face as I watched my mum standing before the crowd with a beautiful smile as she announced the wedding ceremony in three days.
A petite, slender girl stood beside her with a smile as she introduced her as the future queen of Elorida, and I can swear on my life that I have never seen her before. Not even in my dreams.
I curled my hands into a fist, grabbing the duvet that was covering me. The realisation dawned on me that my mum was the one behind all this.
She did this, and she knew fully well that I would not accept it; that was why she announced it without me knowing.
Gosh! I hate this woman.
As if on cue, Amelia, my maid, a middle-aged woman in her late forties, walked in with a smile. “The Queen asked me to call you for breakfast.”
I rolled my eyes as I watched her leave. A heavy feeling settled in my heart, making it hard for me to breathe; tears rolled down my eyes.
Mike had been the only one who loved me and cared about my decision, about how I felt, not what my mum wanted. He saw beneath the spare prince that everyone saw me as, and he loved me, and now he has broken up with me for something I know nothing about.
Something I did not even do.
I dragged my broken self out of the bed with a heavy heart. Took my bath, got dressed and walked downstairs to the dining room.
Immediately I laid my eyes on my mum, my anger increased. Adrenaline rushed within me as I watched her discuss with the girl.
A dark hunger that I had been suppressing a long time ago crawled within me. To walk towards her and snap her neck, kill her, make her cry, and get on her knees and beg for my mercy.
To make her see me not as the weak son but the strong one. Someone she should fear.
I swallowed hard, repeating the same words my brother had told me to say in my head. “It's okay. It's okay. You are okay. You are enough.”
I pushed the anger down and walked towards them with a smile. Immediately my mum saw me, she stood up and walked towards me, her eyes glittering with pride.
“Eric, I am sure you saw the news this morning. Meet Katherine, your fiancée,” she said with a smile.
Katherine walked up to me and smiled, bowing her head down slightly.
I turned to my mum. “I never knew I was getting married,” I said through gritted teeth. Ignoring the girl's presence.
She plastered a fake smile and held my hands. “You know it is required of you to get married so that you can take the throne and become king. The people need you.”
I shook my head, utterly disappointed at God for giving me this woman as a mother. All her life, all she ever wanted was power. To retain her position as queen, make everyone smile at her. She never cared about what we, her children, wanted or what our father wanted. It has always been power and nothing else.
“The people don't need me. They need time to mourn their dead prince. It has not even been up to a week since Eric died, and you are already making arrangements for me to get married? What about the one-month mourning period that we all observed when a royal died? What happened to that?”
She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Well, we are done mourning. After all, he is dead. We can't bring him back to life. We have to move on. His reign is over; it is your time, and we have enemies who would want to attack us, especially now that we have no leader,” she said and smiled at me before turning to Katherine.
“She is lovely and would make a good wife. She would be just like me. Don't worry; you would love her once you get to know her.”
I shook my head at them, at everything that has happened within the last two months. Dad died a month ago from food poisoning, and now Eric was shot, and Mother seems not to care.
She is not even bent on finding who killed them. All she wants is for someone to ascend the throne.
The urge to crawl into my skin again, itching me like ants on my skin. To kill her, pull out a gun and shoot her. It would end all your torment, and you would be free to do as you like.
I shook my head, shutting the urge down, and turned to my mum, “I would never ever get married to the woman of your choice. In fact, I would rather die than marry someone who looks like you or behaves like you. A failure to her kids and her people. Tell her to get out of here and never return because I am not getting married anytime soon,” I warned and walked away.
“Eric!” My mum shouted at my back as she walked towards me.
I hastened my steps, making me run toward me. As soon as I got to my room, I immediately turned to close the door behind me, but she put her feet in between the door. Stopping me.
I stared at her feet, wondering if I should use all the force I have and slam the door against it. So that she would feel a fraction of the pain I felt. So that her bone would crack like my heart broke.
And once again, I pushed the thought down and allowed her to walk inside. Immediately she entered inside, her hands flew across the air, landing a resounding slap on my cheeks.
This bitch! I would have done what I had in mind some minutes ago.
“How dare you walk out on me? How dare you defy my order? You sit in your room mourning your brother all day, Luke, a weakling that you are, while I do all the jobs. The least you can say is thank you. Thank you! That is all I should get from being the parent to a fool like you.
You think crying over your brother would make you a king? No! It won't. I don't know how long it would take for you to come to your senses, but the wedding is going to happen. Get prepared!“ she snapped, panting heavily.
She walked towards the door and turned to me again. “All my life I have always counted you as one of the mistakes I had. Even your dad agreed with me. If you want to probe me wrong. Get married to Katherine. Be the son I have always wanted,” she said in a low voice.
I looked at her with a smile as her words pierced through my heart. I should be used to it. To her painful words, yet here I am being weak.
The only person who had made me feel worthless was my mother. My own mother.
I shoved my hands into my pocket and walked towards her with a smile. “For the first time, Mother. I am okay being the weak son, and if you force me to become the king, I don't want to be. Be rest assured that you would pay toe my lifelong pain.
For the emptiness you created in me. Be reassured that you and your bride would not live to see the next day after our wedding,” I warned and grabbed her hands as I pushed her outside and banged the door in her face.
A smile crossed my lips at the memory of her eyes when I threatened her. She wasn't worried. She was afraid. Fear passed her eyes like a living thing.
And for some reason, I wanted to continue seeing that feeling in her eyes.
I pulled out my phone immediately after she was gone and texted Mike to meet me at the gay bar, hidden in the outskirts of the town.
It was marked as read, but he didn't reply.
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7.3
I found out my husband of three years had cheated on me and his mistress is the one who told me-because he didn't have the balls to do it himself.
I move out and get a new apartment, a job as a bartender, and try to move on with a broken heart. I wonder where it all went wrong, if I hadn't been enough for him, if I'd been stupid for marrying him in the first place.
I'm at work one night when he walks inside-the most beautiful man I've ever seen. He sits at the bar and a forest fire burns between us. I was depressed the moment before he entered, but the second I look at his blue eyes, I forget the dumpster fire that my life has become. I invite him back to my place and it's the most passionate night of my life. I expect to never see him again.
I just want him as an anti-depressant-but he wants me all to himself. I just got my heart ripped out of my chest so I want something easy and no-strings-attached, but he wants all the strings because he's hooked.
I don't get much of a say in the matter, and that's not surprising when I learn why-because he's the Butcher. The crime lord of all crime lords, the boss that overshadows all of Paris, that makes everyone abide by his rules-or pay.
And now I'm his.

7.1
I was the Architect who built the digital fortress for the most feared Don in New York.
To the world, I was Brendan Wiggins’s silent, elegant Queen.
But then my burner phone buzzed under the dinner table.
It was a photo from his mistress: a positive pregnancy test.
"Your husband is celebrating right now," the caption read. "You are just the furniture."
I looked across the table at Brendan. He smiled and held my hand, lying to my face without blinking.
He thought he owned me because he saved my life ten years ago.
He told her I was just "functional." That I was a barren asset he kept around to look respectable, while she carried his legacy.
He thought I would accept the disrespect because I had nowhere else to go.
He was wrong.
I didn't want to divorce him—you don't divorce a Don.
And I didn't want to kill him. That was too easy.
I wanted to erase him.
I liquidated fifty million dollars from the offshore accounts only I could access. I destroyed the servers I had built.
Then, I contacted a black-market chemist for a procedure called "Tabula Rasa."
It doesn't kill the body. It wipes the mind clean. A total hard reset of the soul.
On his birthday, while he was out celebrating his bastard son, I drank the vial.
When he finally came home to find the empty house and the melted wedding ring, he realized the truth.
He could burn the world down looking for me, but he would never find his wife.
Because the woman who loved him no longer existed.

8.1
Samira James has two weeks left.
Two weeks until she turns eighteen.
Two weeks until everything changes.
And a few months left trapped in high school with the boy she hates most.
Calvin Simms has been her enemy for as long as she can remember. Popular, untouchable, and the living reminder of a childhood misunderstanding neither of them ever corrected. Their interactions are sharp, heated, and carefully controlled.
Until they aren't.
As months pass, tension replaces silence.
Jealousy replaces indifference.
And lines blur where hatred once lived.
With rivals watching, secrets resurfacing, and temptation growing harder to ignore, Samira must decide if sticking to her rules is worth denying what her body and her heart are already choosing.
Because some mistakes feel too good to stop.
And sometimes...
you don't fall for the person you want.
You fall for the one you swore to hate.

7.5
I was the adopted daughter of the wealthy Ruiz family, but the moment their true heir appeared, I was thrown away like trash.
Not long after being kicked out, my adoptive father and uncle hired a hitman to stage a fatal car crash on Mulholland Drive.
Pinned under an overturned Porsche with a shattered leg, I watched the hitman point a suppressed pistol between my eyes.
"The Ruiz family sends their regards."
Before this, my reputation had already been completely destroyed by a director, a pop idol, and a reality TV star, leaving me blacklisted and universally hated.
My adoptive family didn't just want me ruined; they wanted me permanently silenced to tie up loose ends.
The hitman pulled the trigger, and the original Alicia died in despair, tasting only rain and blood.
Until her last breath, she didn't understand.
Why did the family she loved treat her like a disposable object? Why did those three men maliciously frame her and turn the world against her?
Opening my eyes again, the fear was gone, replaced by an ancient, cosmic indifference.
I, the Arbiter, had taken over this deceased vessel.
Moving faster than the human eye, I crushed the hitman's steel gun with my bare hand and turned his soul into dust.
Looking at the memories of those who wronged this girl, I signed a contract for the very reality show they were starring in.
Since I borrowed this body, taking out the trash is a required courtesy.

8.2
When our family empire crumbled, my sister and I were sold off as collateral to the Chicago Outfit.
My fierce sister Frankie was forced to marry Damien Moretti, the terrifying Don. I was shackled to his brother Leo, a notorious, degenerate playboy.
I thought my life was over, but the real nightmare began on our wedding night. A terrified maid handed me the wrong room key. Exhausted and numb, I crawled into a dark honeymoon suite, praying my new husband would be too drunk to find me.
Instead, the heavy door opened, and a man fueled by a drug-laced drink stepped in. He was ruthless, punishing, and entirely stripped away my dignity in the pitch black.
When the morning light finally broke, I turned my head, expecting to see Leo's boyish face. Instead, I saw a profile carved from ice.
Damien Moretti. The Don. My sister's husband.
The very man who had previously called me a "liability" and ruined my life. When he realized who I was, his eyes filled with absolute, chilling disgust. He dragged me out of the ruined sheets, threw me onto the floor of a freezing shower, and demanded to know why I had sneaked into his suite.
"You ruined me. How am I supposed to look at Frankie? You should have just killed me. Kill me now, Damien. It would be a mercy compared to this."
I sobbed, the freezing water mingling with my tears. He just stared down at me with cold, unreadable intent. I was now trapped in a house of monsters, carrying the Don's darkest secret, and I had to figure out how to survive without destroying my sister.

7.3
While I was pregnant, my husband held a party downstairs for another woman's son.
Through a hidden mental link, I overheard my husband, Don Dante Rossi, tell his consigliere he was going to publicly reject me tomorrow. He planned to make his mistress, Serena, his new mate.
An act forbidden by ancient law while I carried his heir.
Later, Serena cornered me, her smile venomous. When Dante appeared, she shrieked, clawing her own arm and blaming me for the attack.
Dante didn't even look at me. He snarled a command that froze my body and stole my voice, ordering me from his sight as he cradled her.
He moved her and her son into our master suite. I was demoted to the guest room at the end of the hall.
Passing her open door, I saw him rocking her baby, humming the lullaby my own mother used to sing to me.
I heard him promise her, "Soon, my love. I'll sever the bond and give you the life you deserve."
The love I felt for him, the power I'd hidden for four years to protect his fragile ego, all turned to ice.
He thought I was a weak, powerless wife he could discard. He was about to find out that the woman he betrayed was Alessia De Luca, princess of the most powerful family on the continent.
And I was finally going home.