The Masked Princess Bound To The King She Hates
Princess Ella walks down the aisle to marry the man who destroyed her life.
Behind her mask lies a secret powerful enough to bring a kingdom to its knees-and a revenge plan years in the making. To the world, she is a quiet and obedient queen. In truth, she is a survivor who has come to finish what war began.
But King Augustine is not a man easily deceived.
Cold, intelligent, and dangerously observant, he quickly realizes his new bride is hiding more than she shows. Instead of exposing her, he watches... waits... and begins a silent game where every glance, every word, and every move becomes a test.
As tension builds inside the palace, a survivor from Ella's past arrives-someone who can reveal her identity and destroy everything she has planned.
Now trapped between revenge and survival, Ella must decide how far she is willing to go.
Because in a marriage built on lies, one truth could ruin them both-
or bring them closer than either ever intended.
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Chapter 5
The council room was colder than the rest of the palace--not physically, but in feeling.
The stone walls were high, and hung with banners heavy with history and power. Long, dark wooden table ran through the middle, and men sat there not easily to be frightened--not even by kings.
King Augustine was at the end of the table.
Silent.
Observing.
Waiting.
Even before his entrance murmurs filled the room, and they did not abate when he entered.
"She conceals her face."
Such a thing has never been done by any queen of this kingdom.
"It is... unnatural."
Augustine replied not at all.
His eyes swept slowly over the council, and caught each face, each expression, each hidden purpose. Others were just curious.
Others were not.
Then a voice, higher than all the others--calm, commanding, and certainly dangerous.
"Your Majesty."
It was Lord Ferguson.
One of the most ancient of the council--and one of the most difficult to quiet.
Augustine turned and looked at him.
Ferguson bowed his head a little, a i of deference which was rather a sign of duty than of affection.
We know what is going on with your marriage, he started, his voice placid, but the court is growing impatient.
He paused deliberately.
A queen who does not show her face begs to be questioned.
Silence followed.
Heavy.
Unforgiving.
Augustine sat up a little in his chair, and his face was indescribable.
And when, he said to himself, does pain prescribe power?
His words fell lightly--yet with impact.
No one spoke.
Still, Ferguson continued.
Perception makes loyalty, Your Majesty, with respect. Should the people start to distrust their queen--"
"They will not."
The break was instantaneous.
Final.
The room stilled.
All eyes were on the king.
Augustine again touched his fingers on the armrest.
I have seen my queen, said he.
The statement was simple.
Deliberate.
"There is nothing to question."
There was a wave of the council. Some nodded.
Others exchanged glances.
All were not convinced.
Ferguson looked a little keenerly.
"As you say, Your Majesty."
But skepticism was under his word.
Augustine noticed.
Of course he did.
Silence stretched.
Then-
My word ought to be clear enough.
No one argued.
But the strain was there.
Alive.
Unsettled.
You have seen her face, another council-member said cautiously. Surely, Your Majesty, there was nothing wrong in bringing her to the court.
Augustine turned his eyes to him.
My queen is no spectacle.
The words were serene.
Firm.
Ferguson bent forward a little.
Naturally not, he replied. "But transparency builds trust."
Pressure.
Subtle.
Relentless.
Augustine stood on his feet.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
The room was quieted only by the movement.
My queen hath no explanations to make to this council, he said.
His gaze hardened.
"Nor do I."
No one spoke.
No one challenged him.
Since at that time, it was not debate that filled the room--
It was control.
Without another word, Augustine turned and walked out.
The doors shut behind him with a last silence.
The passageway was quiet.
Too silent.
Augustine strolled slowly on, without haste, his face unaltered.
But his mind was not.
He had not to listen to the remainder of the council.
He had already caught sight of them.
Doubt.
Suspicion.
Calculation.
It was only a matter of time.
"My King."
The voice was behind him.
Augustine stopped.
Slowly, he turned.
A servant was a few steps away, her head was bent down, her hands clasped together in front of her. She was indecisive, as though she was not quite sure that she ought to have spoken at all.
"What is it?" Augustine asked.
His voice was calm.
But it had substance.My King. there is talk.
The servant swallowed.
"My King... there is talk."
Of course there was.
Everybody talks, he said.
But she shook her head.
"This is different."
That stilled him.
"Speak."
The servant raised her eyes only a little--not so much as to show the fear in her eyes.
They are saying, she said, and then, with difficulty, uttered the words, That Your Majesty has not really seen the queen.
Silence followed.
Still.
Sharp.
Augustine made no motion.
"They believe." she continued, her voice lowering, ".that what was said in the council was not. the truth."
The words hung in the air amid them.
Dangerous.
Unavoidable.
Nothing happened a moment.
Then Augustine made a gradual step.
The servant bowed her head once more.
Who is talking? he said.
His voice did not change.
But something under it did.
The servant hesitated.
It is spreading, my King, it is spreading, said she. Among the servants. and more.
Not one voice.
Not one source.
That made it worse.
Gossip might be suppressed.
Doubt could not.
Augustine made no reply.
Then-
"Let them talk."
The words were silent.
Controlled.
But final.
The servant looked a little surprised.
Augustine turned his eyes away, and now was far, and reckoning.
Because this-
This was no longer what was true.
It was concerning what would be thought.
Go back to work, he said.
"Yes, my King."
She curtsied and went.
Augustine stayed where he was.
Still.
Thinking.
He had been questioned by the council.
The palace was now starting to question him.
And soon-
The kingdom would be the successor.
There was a slight, hardly noticeable change in his face.
Not anger.
Not concern.
Something sharper.
Something more dangerous.
Since they thought he had told a lie--
Then he would choose what truth substituted it.
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9.1
Julian Laurent was known as the most notorious playboy in Rivermont, changing girlfriends as often as he changed his clothes and treating marriage like a joke.
Clara Sterling, on the other hand, had always been the most quiet and obedient daughter of the Sterling family. Raised as the heir since childhood, she had been flawless in every word and every gesture.
A family-arranged marriage forced these two complete opposites into the same life.
On their wedding night, Julian openly made out with a young model at a nightclub.
For the first time, Clara cast aside her propriety, slapping him and demanding a divorce on the spot.
But before the next day was over, their families had forced them to remarry.
This time, Julian managed to stay faithful for a month before he cheated again.
Clara filed for divorce once more, cutting ties with him completely.
However, that very same day, it was revealed that Clara was not the real daughter of the Sterling family, and she was thrown out.
At her lowest point, Julian found her and solemnly promised to protect her from then on.
They remarried again, and from that day forward, the scandals surrounding Julian ceased.
Everyone said Clara was lucky. Even her best friend insisted that Julian had truly settled down, and Clara believed it.
Until she saw him in a hospital corridor, holding her best friend's hand, his voice strained with deep emotion, "I never liked her. You're the one I've always loved!"
It turned out all of his tenderness had been a lie.
This time, she walked away and never looked back.
And the man who had once treated her as disposable only realized after she was gone that he had long since drowned in her quiet love, unable to escape.
8.6
In my past life, the Cerberus strain leaked, turning the world into a blood-soaked hell of rotting flesh and mutated monsters.
I thought my boyfriend Declan and my best friend Hailee would have my back as we fled the quarantine zone.
Instead, when the surging crowd of the infected cornered us, they didn't hesitate.
They shoved me backward into the horde just to buy themselves three seconds to run.
As I fell into the mud, I saw them fleeing without a single backward glance.
"She's dead weight anyway!" Hailee screamed.
"Just keep running, she'll distract them!" Declan yelled back.
I was torn apart, feeling the agonizing tear of rotting teeth sinking into my neck and the hot spray of my own blood.
Before the apocalypse, my greedy uncle had locked away my ten-million-dollar trust fund, leaving me with nothing but a fake boyfriend who only wanted me for my money.
Until my last breath, I couldn't understand how the people I loved most could trade my life for a head start.
Why did I blindly trust them? Why didn't I see through their perfectly choreographed lies?
Opening my eyes again, the stench of decaying flesh vanished, replaced by the sterile smell of my college dorm room.
Hailee and Declan were standing over my bed, faking tears of concern over my meningitis fever.
I was back exactly seven days before the world ended, and my spatial vault ability had come back with me.
This time, I'm extorting my uncle for every cent, hoarding the city's supplies, and leaving them all to rot.
9.3
Six years ago, my adoptive family framed me for commercial espionage, stripped me of my identity, and threw me out. Now, I finally returned to the Solis estate as a commercial pilot to take back what was mine.
But the first thing my adoptive mother did was threaten me with that forged evidence again. She demanded I take my sister Kiana's place in a marriage contract with a disabled man, simply because Kiana refused to marry him.
When I refused, Kiana ambushed me at the airport with a mob of reporters. She cried for the cameras, publicly accusing me of causing our father's and brother's deaths. She painted me as a ruthless monster who bankrupted the company and ruined the family. The crowd instantly turned on me, screaming that I was a murderer and a gold-digger. Kiana wanted to completely destroy my reputation so I would have no choice but to submit to her arrangement.
I looked at her fake tears, feeling a cold, absolute fury. How dare she use the tragic deaths of the only family members who actually loved me as a prop for her sick show? They had ruined my life once, and now they wanted to bury me alive.
I didn't hesitate. I slapped her hard across the face right in front of the flashing cameras.
"That was for my father and brother."
Then, my real fiancé, a decorated Delta Force commander, rolled through the crowd in his wheelchair. He tossed a classified Pentagon file to the reporters, completely clearing my name and exposing Kiana's lies. I married him to start my revenge, but as I stepped into his heavily secured penthouse that night, I realized my powerful new husband had been preparing for me for a very long time.
9.5
"You shouldn't be here, Fiona," his deep voice rasped against her ear, his hand still pressed against the wall behind her.
"Then tell me to leave," she whispered, her lips trembling inches from his. He didn't move. He didn't breathe. And in that moment, she knew he wanted her just as much as she wanted him.
Fiona Harry has lived her whole life in a golden cage of wealth, reputation, and suffocating rules. University was supposed to be her escape, her first taste of freedom. But nothing could prepare her for the moment she came face-to-face with Professor Jalen Hart, her father's best friend. One reckless night changes everything. A drunken mistake turns into an irresistible obsession, pulling her deeper into Jalen's forbidden world. But secrets don't stay hidden forever. Between Jude, her possessive friend who knows too much, Marian, Jalen's wicked wife, and the dangerous power of desire, Fiona is about to risk not only hers and her family's reputation but her entire future.
And what happens when the truth comes out especially to Marian?
9.3
WARNING!! THIS STORY CONTAINS A LOT OF MATURE THEMES, ELEMENTS OF HARDCORE BDSM, PRAISE KINKS, SLUT-SHAMING KINKS, AND DEGRADATION KINKS. READ WITH CAUTION.
(BOOK ONE OF THE DELUCA KINGS SERIES)
Serena would do anything to uncover the death of her parents, including sleeping with the most dangerous man in New York, Nero DeLuca. And he knows this, so he strings her along so he can see how far she's willing to go.
***
"Get on your knees," Nero said.
"Excuse me-"
"You're my submissive, and you exist for the sole purpose of my pleasure. I don't tolerate defiance. When I say get on your knees, you get on your knees."
"Yes," I replied as I got on my knees, hating how much his commanding tone turned me on.
He put his finger under my chin and lifted it so I could look at him.
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good girl. Now get on the bed and show me that beautiful cunt. I want to see what it looks like before I destroy it with my cock. Tonight, the whole of New York will know you belong to me. I'll not take anything less than you screaming my name, and by the time I'm done with you, you'll feel me between your legs for a week."
7.5
After spending five grueling years securing the Madden Pack's empire, I thought my Alpha mate and I were finally building a perfect family.
But on my birthday, I returned home to find a thick, impenetrable wall of ice in our Mate bond.
Caden had completely shut me out to throw a lavish party for my half-sister, Adalynn.
He let Adalynn pollute our penthouse with her cheap perfume and brainwash my five-year-old daughter, Elara.
"Auntie Adalynn is a million times better than Mommy!"
Elara chirped happily to a camera, while Caden watched with a doting smile.
He publicly humiliated me, commanded the servants to ignore me, and deliberately fed Elara severe allergens just to spite my maternal rules.
When my pup ended up in the pack hospital gasping for air, Caden confiscated her tablet and roared at her to stop crying for the mother who "abandoned" her.
My heart shattered into a million irreparable pieces.
I couldn't understand how the man destined to protect my soul could twist my love into cruelty and use our helpless cub as a punching bag for his ego.
But the weeping, pathetic Luna died right there.
I calmly signed the divorce papers, surrendered all my assets, and walked out into the cold night.
Opening my encrypted laptop, I reclaimed my hidden identity as the global elite hacker "Ghost" and initiated a lethal protocol.
It was time to burn his entire world to the ground.