💍💍MARRIED TO THEVENGEFUL BILLIONAIRE 💍💍( His Sweet Torture ) ------CHAPTER 1&2------Camila came down to join Alejandro for breakfast after dressing up. He was crossing his legs and flipping through his magazine, but the moment he sensed her presence, he stopped and eyed her from head to toe.Camila felt uneasy under his gaze. "Why are you staring at me like that?" she asked, confused and unsure."The real question is, why are you dressed like that?" Alejandro shot back."What do you mean?" Camila looked down at herself. She was wearing a big tee with joggers and her favorite fluffy animal slippers. It was her go-to outfit when she had nothing to do or when she decided to work from home."You can't dress like that if you're going out with me," Alejandro replied."Where are we going, then?" she asked again.Alejandro sighed and closed his magazine, as if her question bored him. "We are going to the company. You're my wife now, and I want you to involve yourself in my business.""I have my own business," Camila replied angrily.Alejandro only smirked. "That isn't why we got married, is it?"Camila didn't respond. Her family's business was on the verge of bankruptcy, and she should be grateful to Alejandro for helping them."Go back and change. You have less than five minutes," he instructed, returning to his magazine.Camila felt annoyed with him. Must he always find an opportunity to boss her around? She already did enough by accepting defeat. Yes, she was nothing without him, but must he always remind her day by day? She didn’t want to argue, so she did as he asked and went back to her room. After a few minutes of changing, she came back downstairs to join him."You took more than five—" Alejandro's words caught in his throat as she descended the stairs. She was wearing a crisp white blouse tucked into a sleek black skirt and heels. Apart from her sexy wedding dress, it was his first time seeing her dressed so elegantly.This woman can cover up and still ooze sex appeal. Alejandro shook his head, trying to snap out of her spell. Her fitted skirt accentuated her hips and backside, and when she sat opposite him, her V-neck blouse revealed just enough cleavage to drive him wild.Alejandro cleared his throat, attempting to regain the composure he'd lost. "I thought I told you five minutes?" he said, a stern frown shadowing his face.Camila rolled her eyes and reached for the pancakes. "Mr. Ruiz, I have my own rules," she said, drizzling maple syrup over her stack without sparing him a glance."I accept that I need you and that my family would be nothing without your help, but I also need you to understand that I don’t like being controlled," she said, finally meeting his eyes."You don’t get to tell me how long or short I take to dress, when to eat, or how to do things, because I'm an adult and I do exactly what I want." She took a bite of her pancake, the syrup glistening on her lips before she licked it off.Damn, that was distracting. Alejandro didn’t catch a word she said; he was too engrossed in watching her eat those pancakes and lick off the syrup. It made him wonder how she would look with his cum on her face, licking it off with the same sensuality.That thought shot straight through him, making him hard as he imagined Camila kneeling beside him in her sexy outfit, taking his cock in her mouth. Maybe he’d rip that shirt off and play with her pink, pointy nipples."It’s too early to think like that," he muttered to himself, though loud enough for Camila to hear."Excuse me?" She gave him a confused look. "I asked if I just made myself clear?" she repeated, but if only she knew what he had been thinking this whole time.Alejandro didn’t reply. He took a napkin to wipe his mouth before standing up. "Meet me in the car," he told her, walking away without waiting for her response.Camila looked stunned. Did he not hear all she said about not liking to be bossed around? She sighed and looked down at the table, feeling sorry for all the untouched food. She noticed Alejandro had only touched a cup of coffee. Why make the maids prepare so much if it would end up being wasted?"What will be done with all this?" she asked."It will be disposed of, ma'am," the head maid replied with a little bow."No, gather all the food and give it to the nearest orphanage. It’s an order, and it’s something you should start doing from now on," Camila continued. "What does Alejandro eat for breakfast?" she asked."He usually drinks coffee, ma'am," the head maid replied."Good, then I want you to bring only the coffee he likes to the table for him, and you can make me some eggs and toast but in a small portion," she instructed."Yes, ma'am," all the maids nodded.A maid rushed to the living room where Camila was still sitting. "Ma'am, Mr. Ruiz is still waiting," she reminded her, legs shaking.Camila stared at her before nodding and leaving with her. She got to the car and sat beside

THE D£VIANT PRINCEPROLOGUE.Getting caged by a serpent is a nightmare no one would ever wish to be in, but what happens when she was thrown into the nightmare by her parents?Hailey Astor, a sweetly attractive lady whose life became a cluster of thorns after she was forced to get married to Blake Augustus, a man old enough to be her father.It's the 21st century constitutional monarchy of New York where King Kaden Clifford rules the city, and Blake Augustus happens to be the prime minister who's also the king's best friend.Blake is endowed with wickedness, and he's always ready to unleash it on anyone anywhere.Hailey's parents threw her at him as an offering to make him pump them with money monthly.So far he gives them money, he's free to even kill her.And as for Blake, he didn't marry her without plans either.He has a girlfriend Judith who hates Hailey crazily for unknown reasons. Blake married Hailey to be Judith's maid and his own punching bag.Hailey's life turned bitterly sour, the two devils made everything hard.She was at the breaking point when she met HIM.Colt Clifford, the unhinged second prince of the city who'd stop at nothing till he claims her, own her, corrupt her and make her moan for him in every angle possible.What's it gonna be?With Blake and Judith around, will that ever come to fruition?Join the sweet ride to find out.THE D£VIANT PRINC£ CHAPTER 1&2NEW YORK, MONARCHIAL PALACE~6PM*From the reinforced steel gate to the main white mansion, every single military guard in uniform stood at tension, commanding respect as a matte black Lamborghini Aventador drove into the grand palace.Coming to a soft stop at the luxurious park, one of the guards rushed to the backseat door, opening it wide.A pair of expensive black shoes stepped out of the car, belonging to a guy whose looks could be compared to a demigod's.Ocean eyes with long lashes on top, well-outlined jawline, tempting lips, attractive tallness, and mullet hair.His dress sense is as expensive as his looks, and his cologne seized the air as he looked around the palace as if it's his first time here.The palace compound is a majestic oasis, surrounded by high walls adorned with detailed carvings and opulent tile work with a grand entrance featuring a majestic gatehouse.Surrounded with meticulously manicured lawns and vibrant flowerbeds, towering trees providing shade and shelter from the outside world.He took his time, breathing in as much palace air as he could while the maids rushed out to take his bags."Welcome back home, second prince""We're glad to have you back, your highness"The maids were greeting as they got the two black bags out of the car trunk, and when he turned around to give them a reply, one of them mistakenly matched his shoe, and her eyes widened when she realized what she had done. "I'm so sorry!" She quickly dropped on her knees."Please forgive me your highness! I'm willing to take any punishment!" She was trembling as she quickly took off her blouse.She's left in just her black bra as she brought the blouse to the shoe, but before she could wipe with it, he shifted his shoe back, then he began walking into the white mansion, a sprawling structure that embodies the epitome of luxury and grandeur."Get the fûck up and cover up" his voice came with an accent. He was walking as he talked."I appreciate your kindness, your highness" the maid stood with a big smile, putting her blouse back on before joining the others to pull the bags inside.Getting to the high-celilinged foyer, a middle-aged lady was already waiting, her hair pulled into a neat bun and her outfit depicting elegance.She's Victoria, the first queen of this palace.She widened her arms with a big smile immediately she sighted him."Welcome back, Colt" she voiced, her excitement so obvious in her tone.Colt walked right into her arms, giving her a hug on the sweeping staircase."I thought you were gonna settle down in Paris for good, it's been five long years" she said, causing Colt to break the hug with a fleeting smile."I went there to give myself a break, not settle down" "Five years break?" Victoria chuckled, looking him fondly in the eyes."Don't take it to heart" Colt replied, and she chuckled again, their closeness so obvious."His Majesty is out of the palace for a function right now with the prime minister, so you'll meet him when he returns at night. By the way, the prime minister got married" she said."The same prime minister I know? If that dog got married, then every other man in this city should get a wife easily" Colt said, undiluted hatred coating his rich voice."His wife is probably the most pitiful lady in this city. I pity the poor girl" Victoria shook her head."She deserves anything happening. Why would any lady in her right fuçking mind get married to that motherfûcker? For the money?" Colt replied."Enough of the talk about the prime minister and his wife,

When two unexpected people collide and become inseparable. Don a ruthless alpha meets Grace a weakling who hasn't gotten her wolf even st 18.Fate has its own plans for them.

l seat waiting for my childhood friends to return from their school in the city since l was born with a leg that has a noticeable limp, which forced me never to leave the island, though l always dreamed of studying in the city like my friends .Sophi is my name, and this is my doomed life.I grew up on a small island where everyone knew each other since we were a few people who lived on this island. The island has no school, so the children who reach the age of 12 years are sent to the main city to study. l have always been a brilliant child and hoped l could go to the city and study, but fate had other plans in store for me. The more l grew , the more my limp worsened, and that meant l couldn't go to the city to study.My parents weren't rich, but they tried to get me possible medical care for my limp but all hope was lost when a doctor informed my family that nothing could be done about my leg and it needed to be surgery removed to save my life .Disappointed and heartbroken, my only comfort was the ocean since reality hit me that l am stuck on this island till l take my last breath. My friends Carl, Evans, and Tracy returned to the island the next day after the doctor had delivered the sad news to my family. Not wanting to worry them, l decided to hide the bad news from them so that they could enjoy their summer break happily. My days with them were always filled with love and laughter since they were the ones who never judged me for my limp . When l thought all hope was lost, a new doctor arrived on the island replacing the one who had told me my leg needed to be cut off. Alistair Thorne arrived on the morning ferry, a blast of crisp, urban professionalism against the island’s faded, salt-caked familiarity. He was younger than the previous physician, with the kind of reassuring, steady eyes that promised competence and demanded trust. He carried a leather medical bag that looked too sophisticated for our dusty clinic and a scent of expensive city soap that made the air feel suddenly sharp.My mother, eyes red and raw from the silent nights she had cried, was the one who practically dragged me to his first available appointment. She spoke in hurried, breathless whispers, explaining the terrible prognosis of the previous doctor. I sat on the examination table, arms crossed, staring at my perpetually unreliable right leg. It felt heavy and cold, less a part of me and more a dead weight I dragged along. I had already accepted its fate; it was the anchor chaining me to the island, and the amputation was merely the final snip of the mooring line.When Dr. Thorne finally spoke, his voice was a low, measured counterpoint to my mother’s anxious monologue. He listened, he observed, and then, he touched my ankle—a firm, professional pressure—and a tremor of actual, terrifying hope ran through me.“It sounds like my predecessor made a hasty and drastic recommendation,” he said, looking straight into my eyes, bypassing my mother entirely. “Sophi, what you have is severe, complex, and degenerative. But it is not hopeless.”The word "not" hung in the humid air of the clinic, thick and luminous, displacing the dust motes. My mother gasped. I felt a stinging behind my eyes, a sensation I hadn’t known since I was a child: the possibility of reprieve.Dr. Thorne laid out a plan with clinical precision. It involved specialized, expensive equipment that he would have shipped from the mainland, weeks of intensive physical therapy, and a course of rare, experimental injections. He spoke of restoring sensation, of strengthening the surrounding muscles, of delaying—and perhaps even reversing—the degeneration. He painted a future where the city was not an impossible dream but a difficult, yet attainable, destination.“It won’t be easy,” he cautioned, a necessary counterweight to the sudden brilliance of his promise. “But I believe we can save your leg, and more importantly, we can give you a real chance at a full life. You are a brilliant girl, Sophi. That mind belongs out there, not trapped here because of a physical limitation we can potentially fix.”I wanted to fall to my knees and weep with gratitude. I wanted to scream with the fierce, sudden relief of having my future handed back to me. My mother, speechless for once, simply held my hand and squeezed until it hurt. We left the clinic that day not as a family mourning a loss, but as pioneers embarking on an arduous, vital journey.The summer that followed was a dizzying blur of hope. My limp became less a source of shame and more a challenge to conquer. I spent hours in the rickety physical therapy room Dr. Thorne had set up in the back of the clinic. The experimental injections hurt—a deep, burning ache that ran from my hip to my toes—but the pain was a glorious affirmation that something was happening.Carl, Evans, and Tracy were oblivious to the initial amputation terror, but they celebrated the arrival of Dr. Thorne as if he were a miracle worker sent just