She wakes up on her birthday to two life-shattering revelations—she's seven weeks pregnant, and her husband's mistress is two months along with his child. Three years of marriage, and not once has he cherished her, not once has he looked at her the way he looks at *her*. But today, it’s different. Today, she is the one calling the shots. With divorce papers in hand, she watches the color drain from his face. His outrage is palpable, his grip on control slipping. But before she can savor the moment, a sharp pain grips her. Warmth pools between her legs—blood. The room spins. Then, through the chaos, he appears. A man in a black coat. He doesn’t ask. He doesn’t hesitate. He scoops her into his arms and strides out of the house like he owns the world. Her husband stares, frozen in shock. Then, fury ignites in his eyes. His voice cuts through the air like a blade. "Him! Where the hell is he taking my wife?"

The Puppeteer "Rule number one: Never sign your divorce papers on your birthday. It'll curse you with an unending, agonizing vendetta—especially if you married a ruthless bastard with a mother who makes Lucifer look kind." "And rule number two? Never trust the woman he cheated with, because one day, she’ll put a blade to your throat… right after you strut down the runway of your fashion show." I smirk, tapping my nails against the laptop keys. The words I just typed burn into my brain, a cruel reminder of how far I’ve fallen. A billionaire turned housewife, stripped of power, dignity, and the child I never got to hold. Three years wasted. Never again. I slam the laptop shut and toss it onto the bed, the force making it crash onto the floor. Let it break. It doesn’t matter. Nothing does—except payback. I pull on my silk robe and head down to my office. The empire I rebuilt from scratch after him. Money never betrays you. Love? A death sentence. The office door bursts open. My brother steps in, a sly smirk on his face as he slides a file across the desk. "Happy belated birthday," he drawls. I raise a brow, flipping open the folder. The words make my stomach clench. A deal? With him? The man who tried to kill me? "We captured the assailant," my brother says, his voice dripping with something dangerously close to amusement. "And guess what, Abby? That little two-month pregnancy? It ain't your husband's. It’s his." I freeze. A slow, predatory grin curls my lips. "And that’s not even the best part," my brother murmurs. He leans closer, voice lowering. "Your husband’s brother? The one who mysteriously disappeared?" I lift my gaze, pulse thrumming. "She killed him," he whispers. Oh, darling. Now that... that’s something I can work with.

Lord Kaiser has his eyes glued on something- or rather, someone- he doesn't lose focus.Cold-blooded, ruthless, and obsessively possessive Kai, always gets exactly what he wants. His eyes trail along her body. He wants a new toy, a particular taste to call his dolly.Their worlds revolving in a brutal twist of fate, he has her hooked in the heart of his dark, dangerous empire. "Dolly", however, seems to have other plans."Let me be crystal clear. You're my dolly", he growls.She doesn't flinch. She never does, until he's forced her to a tight position leaving her body to crave more of him. "Dolly" is still resistant."My dolly," he grabs her by the chin so that she's looking him in the eyes."You've been a very bad toy."In a husky tone, he frees his grip on her and places his hands in his trouser pockets "You're father's dead, dolly, and I've bought all his property."Inching forward, he whispers lightly but threatening, "including all his play toys."A grin settles on his face when he sees her terror struck expression. She's trapped in an unyielding grip of the addictive allure of a dangerous man. Does she submit to his wildlife games or she stands her ground in a mundane lifestyle?Find out more in the story!