The Burned Wife Reborn For Spectacular Revenge

For three years, I hid my identity as the sole heiress of a multi-billion dollar tech empire to live in a cramped apartment and support my boyfriend, Ben. But the day before our engagement, I stood outside a meeting room and overheard him talking to his wealthy boss, Haylie. "She's just a stepping stone," Ben laughed, his voice full of contempt. "A poor, ambitionless distraction while I work my way up to where I really belong." He mocked the cheap silver ring he gave me, calling it a necessary prop to keep a naive fool happy. He bragged about the multi-million dollar merger proposal he was presenting, planning to use it to secure his promotion and build a future with her. He had no idea that I had secretly negotiated that entire deal using my real connections just to give him his big break. I had sacrificed my family's comfort, my true identity, and my own career just to watch him rise. I poured my heart and soul into our humble beginnings, only to realize he saw my love as a pathetic joke and me as disposable trash. I calmly picked up a pen and voided the merger agreement, tearing my hard work into tiny pieces. I went home, slid the cheap ring off my finger, and dropped it into his mug of cold coffee. "Soon, you'll find out exactly who is nothing." Walking out the door, I pulled out my phone and texted my billionaire father. "I'm in. Announce the merger."

Maddy worked at an exclusive underground club, always hidden behind a sleek black mask. One night, a wealthy client approached her with a filthy fantasy , he didn't want to just fuck her. He wanted to be her complete slave. He took her to his luxury penthouse, while she shoved her soaked pussy onto his face and rode his tongue until she came, then mounted his cock and used him mercilessly, slapping and choking him while denying his orgasm until he begged like a broken whore. Even after she quit the club and started a new corporate job, she kept hooking up with him. One day, she walked into the CEO's office... and froze. Her new boss was the same man. By day, in his luxurious office, he is the dominant, commanding CEO , barking orders, running the company with iron authority, and no one suspects a thing. By night, he becomes her secret pathetic slave: crawling, getting pegged over his own desk, licking her cum off his floor, and having his cock locked in chastity while she laughs at how easily she owns him. Pretty Devil is a raw, extremely explicit erotic novel packed with intense femdom, heavy BDSM, humiliation, orgasm denial, pegging, face-sitting, and twisted power exchanges that blur the dangerous line between boss and secret slave. This book is unapologetically nasty and graphic. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

I am the biological daughter of the wealthy Fitzpatrick family, but I spent my childhood eating out of dumpsters. When I was finally brought back to the estate at age seven, I thought I would experience my parents' love. Instead, my biological parents looked at my dirty clothes with raw disgust. They only cared about Hallie, the fake daughter who lived like a princess. The moment I walked in, Hallie hurled a heavy ceramic cup at my head, slicing my hand open. "Get out of my house!" My father didn't even look at the blood. He raised his hand to strike me, accusing me of bringing trailer park rules into his home. In my past life, I dropped to my knees and begged for their forgiveness. I endured their abuse, hoping they would eventually love me. But they let the maids humiliate me, let Hallie steal my identity, and eventually threw me back onto the streets to die. Even my playboy Uncle Byron, the only person who ever showed me mercy, was driven to suicide by them. I didn't understand why my own flesh and blood hated me so much, or why a vicious liar deserved everything while I was treated like a jinx. Opening my eyes again, I was back on the exact day I first returned to the estate. As my father raised his hand to hit me, I didn't cower. Instead, I looked at the family patriarch and pointed directly at my notorious, alcoholic uncle. "I want him to be my new guardian."

After divorcing my cheating husband, I thought I had found my savior in his powerful business partner, Cole. For three years, he pampered me like a queen, building a perfect, golden cage of devotion. But on the day I happily discovered I was pregnant, I overheard him talking to my ex-husband's mistress. "Elinor is just a convenient tool. If she gets pregnant, I'll fake a paternity test and annul the marriage so she leaves with nothing." My entire marriage was a meticulously crafted lie to secure his position and protect the woman he truly cared about. Before I could quietly escape, Cole orchestrated a brutal attack. I was dragged into a dark alley, beaten until my ribs fractured, and my unborn child was violently ripped away from me. As I lay bleeding out in the freezing rain, my heart shattered into dust. I didn't understand how the man who kissed me every morning could coldly order his thugs to beat me to death just to appease his real lover. They left me there to rot, thinking they had finally erased the naive fool who got in their way. Three years later, the world still believes Elinor Marsh died in a tragic car accident. But when Cole and his elite circle attend a high-profile Interpol reception, they don't expect the new Chief Liaison Officer to step onto the stage. I am Helena Fu now, and I have returned to burn their empire to the ground.

Giana woke up drugged and burning with fever in a luxurious hotel suite. Standing before her was Cornel Stark, the most ruthless billionaire in New York. Memories of her past life stabbed into her brain. In that life, her adoptive family and her fiancé Gary had stolen her inheritance and left her to die a brutal, agonizing death. She also remembered how fighting Cornel only made him more violent. So this time, she didn't scream. She endured his brutal punishment, escaped the moment he let his guard down, and swallowed a Plan B pill on the freezing streets. Returning to her adoptive family's mansion, she faced the people who had destroyed her. Her fiancé and her stepsister put on masks of fake concern, secretly mocking her. Instead of throwing a useless tantrum like before, Giana deliberately threw herself down the steep wooden stairs. She smashed her head against the marble floor, using her own blood to shatter their plans and win back her mother's trust. She thought she had finally taken control. She was ready to crush the people who had betrayed her and live for herself. But she didn't understand why the billionaire she had just escaped was suddenly turning her life upside down. When she woke up in the hospital, her room wasn't filled with her family's fake tears, but an ocean of blood-red roses. The heavy door swung open, and Cornel Stark walked in, his gray eyes locking onto her with a dark, predatory hunger. "Remember this feeling, Giana. Every breath you take belongs to me now."

Genevieve was heavily pregnant, holding the legal papers that would transfer her massive family trust fund to her loving husband, Clinton. But as she approached his study, she heard a familiar giggle. Through the cracked door, she saw her cousin Carolynn sitting on his desk, her skirt hiked up, while Clinton smirked and poured bourbon. "Once she signs those papers, we don't need her anymore," Clinton laughed coldly. "The kidnapping is staged for tomorrow. She and the brat disappear permanently." Genevieve gasped, and he spotted her. When she frantically tried to run, her trusted housekeeper blocked the stairs. Clinton dragged her back, beat her mercilessly, and locked her in a freezing, underground cellar. Denied any medical help, she endured agonizing hours of labor alone in the dark, only to deliver a stillborn child. Clinton then walked in, ruthlessly tossed her dead baby's tiny body into a pile of dirty rags, and brutally strangled her. As her lungs burned and the world faded to black, her heart shattered into a million jagged pieces. She had given him everything. How could they be so monstrous as to murder her and her innocent child just for money? Opening her eyes again, the freezing cellar was gone. She was standing in an emerald silk gown at an elite charity gala—the exact night their original kidnapping plot began, a month before she even announced her pregnancy. This time, the naive socialite was dead, and she was going to make them pay in blood.