He keeps me in a position, forcing me to spread my legs as he continues to tease my breasts, slowly massaging my chest and sliding his hands down towards my shoulders and then my neck before bringing his hands back down to my breasts."So much perfection," he whispers, evidently lust in his eyes as he continues to tease my breasts, forcing me to start panting hard. I'm slowly losing control of myself, and I'm already going crazy right now.I whimper when he suddenly twists against my nipples, forcing me to shiver on the table, and he smiles, winking at me."It gives me so much joy to see how much this affects you," he says and smiles continuously, gazing lustfully at my breasts and squeezing them continuously and relentlessly."Fuck, I don't think I might be able to hold on any much longer," he suddenly whispers, and I take that chance to look down below his belt to notice how extremely hard and straight and long his erection is.I guess maybe I shouldn't make this easy for him, I thi
"Ahh," I moan out loud and grip against the table, gasping as he inserts himself forcefully, without mercy, deep into my pussy, hitting that particular g-spot with one hard strike."Fuck," I cry out loud while he grips tightly against my shoulder, holding himself tightly against me before pulling out and slamming himself back into me without mercy."Here it goes," he whispers and then grips tightly against my breasts, massaging me endlessly as he begins to move himself against me like a vigorous sex-starved maniac, pounding and slamming mercilessly until I can feel the life draining away from me.Oh fucking god, he really meant it when he said he was going to show me how crazy I am making him. He is really going all crazy on me right now, and this is just so hard and so rough.I am crying out loud as he holds me tightly against himself, gripping tightly against my neck and slamming so roughly into me it makes me bite against my bottom lip, feeling my head spinning."Fuck," I scream as
He grips tightly against my shoulders and keeps me in place while still moving his waist against me, slamming and pounding me so hard as I groan and arch my back on the table once again, feeling slight tears of excessive pleasure dripping down my face and cheeks.Yeah, this is beyond brutal, and this is beyond crazy. If this is how crazy I drive him, I must be extremely wicked because right now I feel like my pussy is about to be torn into a million pieces. The heavy sensations moving through my body and booting my legs are making me feel like my brain is being twisted. This pleasure is just insane and too excessive to control.I find myself crying out loud and gnashing my teeth together while I shiver continuously against the table, and he increases his pace, roughly slamming me harder than ever. I can swear I think I nearly saw the Lord as he continues to hold me tightly against himself, vigorously pounding me and ramming me so hard against the table I finally lose control of myself
He continues to pound me so hard with very sharp, brutal, rough movements, holding me tightly against himself. It doesn't take long for me to lose control of myself as I cry out loud, moving and twisting and pressing my pussy tightly all the more against his cock as I explode, filling the heavy sensation tearing through my walls deep down within me.Good Lord, I can feel my brain spinning in circles as my orgasm begins to spill out excessively hard in a very painful, sweet way. Good Lord, I can't control it anymore. I don't think my body is able to bear it as I bite down hard against my bottom lip, shivering relentlessly against him while he holds me tightly against himself, moving his waist and sliding his dick slowly in and out of me until the last of my orgasm has finally spilled out, and then he cries out loud, allowing himself to release deep down within me once again."Fuck," I whisper as he holds me tightly against himself, his dick still buried deep down within me. Then he mas
I slowly lose control of myself and begin to think with my dick, neglecting my head as I wrap my lips around her nipples and begin to suck her slowly and sensually, forcing her to arch her back again to the bed as she lifts one of her legs and wraps it around my waist. My erect dick slowly brushes against her sex in the process, and she gasps, gripping tightly against me and holding my head tightly against her breasts."Oh fuck, Lucas, please," she whispers and continues to go all crazy on me, moving her waist against me as if requesting for me to insert my dick into her.Okay, I really need to think rationally about this. If we do this once again, then there is no way in hell she will be able to have strength by the time she wakes up tomorrow morning. The good Lord knows I want to explore this and continue probably fucking her throughout the entire night, but I'm also trying to help her, but she is not making this easy for me right now. I really want to think with my mind, but my dic
I smile and take each one of them, arranging them neatly in a pile a few meters at the foot of the bed. Then I wrap the towel around my waist and look around, feeling completely jobless when I suddenly glance at my phone.Then I remember the call I received earlier today from that mysterious individual who said he was with me and he could totally help me with anything I need him for. It makes me glance relentlessly at my phone for a short while, wondering if it will be a wise idea to call his number right now and probably have a deep discussion with him because I am still finding it hard to process everything.What did he mean when he kept on saying I was helping him, and he is seeing my good work? What exactly am I even doing to make him have this motivation to even help me in the first place? I can tell that whatever authority is holding him must be immensely great because everything was just totally reversed within the snap of a finger, as though it meant nothing to him, and with t
Oh, great, she is actually back, and just like the previous time, she never bothered to inform any of us about her arrival, even though Flora is probably asleep. I exhale and slowly continue to descend down the staircase, thinking if it would be a wise idea to reveal myself to her. Maybe not. I don't want to disturb her, and I don't want to get on her bad side because I really hate it whenever she keeps on acting as though I am literally the most annoying individual in the world to her right now, every single damn time. But then, at the same time, I am curious to know why the hell she hates me so much. So, should I talk to her, or should I just let it go? I wonder to myself, thinking deeply and observing her intensely as she continues to write down something briskly against the paper in front of her. But then, after a few minutes, she drops the pen again and stretches her hands, yawning slightly. Then she swiftly turns her head, and our eyes finally come in contact. She looks at me f
Okay, I don't think I can continue this way, I wonder to myself as I finally relax with my elbows against my knees. "Okay, I really want to get something straight and clear right now, and I need you to just be honest with me completely. Can you please just tell me what the hell I have ever done to you in this life to make you detest me this much?" I ask, and she doesn't stop what she is doing. She continues to write against the paper, ignoring me completely, and it makes me almost get extremely angry as I tighten my fist into a tight ball. Get a grip of yourself, Lucas, get a grip of yourself, Lucas. Don't worry, it's not going to last long."I am talking to you, Serena," I say, and she finally stops, closing her eyes and tilting her head up as though I am probably getting her frustrated."You are really distracting me from my work right now, Mr. Arden," she says, and I exhale before rubbing my fingers against my forehead."Please, can you tell me how I have offended you to make you h
Author’s NoteAnd that brings us to the end of Part 1 of Tangled Truths: The Billionaire’s Secret Betrayal.But don’t relax just yet—the story isn’t over.The tension is only getting thicker, and the real game is about to begin.Part 2: Tangled Truths: The Billionaire’s Revenge is coming soon!Get ready for more twists, deeper betrayals, and emotions that will cut even sharper. Flora and Lucas’s journey is far from finished, and the battles ahead will test everything they thought they knew—about each other, and about themselves.If you’ve enjoyed the story so far, please take a moment to leave a quick review or comment.It truly helps support my writing and allows me to continue creating more intense, emotional journeys for you to enjoy.Also, if you can, I would love for you to leave a short comment letting me know what you think about my writing—or even about me as an author! Your feedback means more than you know and inspires me to keep going.Thank you from the bottom of my heart
The package arrives on a rainy Tuesday.No return address. No note. Just a small, meticulously wrapped box resting quietly on the mahogany desk inside Lucas Arden’s corner office—a sanctuary of power that overlooks the city he painstakingly rebuilt from the ruins of scandal and deception.Rain slides down the glass in thin, silver streaks. Thunder hums in the background. He stares at the package for a long moment, his expression unreadable, before reaching for the silver letter opener he hasn’t touched in weeks. He slices through the paper with slow precision, a subtle tightness in his jaw.Inside, nestled like a secret in a bed of crisp black tissue, is a book.A hardcover. Matte black jacket. White serif font.The Tangled TruthA NovelHe freezes.The title registers like a whisper in his bones. Familiar. Haunting.His gaze falls to the author’s name printed below the title in small, elegant script: F. H.His heartbeat falters.He sits down slowly, almost mechanically, and opens the
The fall is always louder than the rise.Damien Vance’s empire—once a towering monolith of luxury, influence, and power—crumbles in a blaze of disgrace. Headlines scream betrayal. His private jets are impounded. Offshore accounts frozen. International warrants flood in. The once-revered tycoon who dined with diplomats and kings now finds himself dragged through a gauntlet of indictments. The media flocks like vultures, circling his legacy as it burns."The Billionaire Who Built His Castle on Lies" blares across global news networks, each word another nail in the coffin of a reputation meticulously manufactured.Victoria Hale sits at the eye of the storm.No longer wrapped in designer gowns or commanding red carpets, she appears in court cuffed and sallow-faced. The courtroom buzzes like a hive, a theater of judgment packed with cameras and whispers. At the prosecution’s table, Serena sits tall in her tailored navy suit, eyes sharp and voice colder than the marble walls around her.She
The hospital room is quiet now—eerily so.Gone are the rhythmic beeps of machines warning of danger. Gone is the sterile rush of nurses and the chaotic hum of life and death decisions. What remains is a stillness that feels like it’s holding its breath. A moment stretched thin by memory.Lucas sits upright in the hospital bed, a bandage wrapping his ribs, the white cotton stark against his bruised, olive-toned skin. His breath catches every time he shifts, a sharp pull in his side reminding him that pain means survival. That he’s alive.Alive because she saved him.Yet she’s not here.It’s been three days since Damien was dragged into federal custody, cuffed and broken beneath the weight of his own lies. Three days since Richard was paraded before a sea of flashing cameras and stunned reporters. The truth spilled out like blood—raw, unstoppable. Flora’s plan had worked. Her chessboard cleared. But Lucas?He still listens for her voice in every quiet moment.There are no calls. No mess
The sound of sirens fades into the distance, no longer urgent, but lingering like the echo of a dying heartbeat. Red and blue lights strobe across the cracked marble floor of the Ashton estate, casting eerie shadows through broken windows. Officers drag Richard through the front entryway, his designer shirt torn, face bloodied, and wrists bound in steel.His eyes burn with betrayal. Hatred. But Flora stands firm.“Mark my words!” he shouts, twisting against his restraints. “You’ve made enemies you don’t even know exist!”Her expression doesn’t change. “Let them come,” she murmurs, her voice quiet but lethal. Her eyes follow him as he vanishes down the steps, swallowed by the flashing lights.As soon as the door swings shut behind him, she drops to her knees beside Lucas.His blood is all over her now, soaking her hands, smearing across her black pants. His shirt clings to his skin, dyed dark with crimson. His chest rises, shallow but steady. Barely.“Lucas, hey, stay with me,” she whi
The sirens scream louder now, flashing lights slicing through the gloom, painting the crumbling estate in hues of red and blue. It should feel like rescue. Like justice. But to Flora, it feels like a final warning.Because the true danger isn’t outside. It’s here, inside these decaying walls. Inside the men she once trusted. The danger pulses through the air like a second heartbeat.Damien moves first. A blur of fury and precision, he launches at Richard without hesitation. His fist connects with Richard’s jaw in a brutal crack, sending the man stumbling into an old sideboard. Wood splinters and glass explodes, littering the floor with jagged debris. Flora screams as the violence erupts inches from her, the sound swallowed by the crashing chaos.Richard recovers with frightening speed. From beneath his coat, he draws a knife—not sleek or tactical, but ugly and vicious, made for tearing flesh, not ending fights cleanly.“You should’ve stayed out of this!” he snarls.Damien’s laugh is a
The estate is old and forgotten—a crumbling remnant of wealth swallowed by creeping vines and heavy silence. Once opulent, it now stands like a ghost of itself, hollowed out by time and secrets. The kind of place where legacies go to die. The kind of place perfect for a reckoning.Flora stands in the grand, dusty main hall, dressed in black from head to toe. Her figure is still, almost statuesque, beneath the cracked chandelier that sways gently with the wind slipping through fractured windows. The air is cold, but her heartbeat is calm. Deliberate. Her eyes scan the space, sharp and unwavering.This place, she chose with care. Far from the noise of the city. Removed from surveillance. Forgotten by maps. It has blind spots, hidden corners, and dead zones—just like Damien prefers. But this time, it’s not his game. This time, she’s the one holding the pieces.Outside, gravel crunches beneath the weight of expensive tires.He’s here.Damien enters as if he owns the world. As if no ghost,
The news breaks like a thunderclap across the media landscape, exploding across every major outlet and social feed with merciless precision. Headlines blare from every screen, screaming in bold fonts and sensational tones: “Victoria Hale: Mistress of Money Laundering?” and “Damien Vance’s Queenpin Exposed.”Cafes, offices, lobbies, airports—every screen plays the same loops. Glitchy video clips, forensic screenshots, redacted emails bearing her unmistakable signature in looping, elegant scrawl. Secret wire transfers, altered invoices, encrypted files cracked wide open. Each detail surgically exposed. Each thread meticulously traced. The media feasts on it. The public, ravenous, consumes every scandalous bite.In the heart of the city, high above the noise, Victoria Hale watches it all unfold.She stands frozen in her penthouse suite, a glass of champagne trembling in her perfectly manicured hand. The television throws harsh light against her face, and for once, she doesn't glow in it.
The knock comes late—soft, hesitant, but deliberate. It cuts through the silence like a thread pulled tight, taut with tension.Flora freezes at the terminal, her fingers suspended just above the keyboard. Code flickers across the screen, each blinking character casting fragments of light across her face. Her heart jumps, not from surprise, but from recognition. She knows who it is before the door even creaks open.Lucas steps inside.His presence fills the room like the return of a forgotten melody—familiar, haunting, comforting, and utterly misplaced in this sterile war zone of a tech suite. The air shifts with him, bringing something warmer, something dangerous.Flora rises slowly, spine straightening, jaw clenched tight. “You shouldn’t be here.”His gaze roams the room—bare walls, humming machines, a paper cup with long-cold coffee—but it always circles back to her. “I had to see you.”He closes the door behind him with a gentle click, but the intensity in his expression is anythi