No Divorce, Only Widowhood: His Possession

I went to The Ivy to return a box of scripts and hoodies, hoping to finally bury my past with movie star Harrison Knox. I just wanted to be a good wife to Julian Sterling and keep my family’s business merger intact. But Harrison had other plans. He staged a paparazzi ambush, pulling me into a fake embrace just as the cameras flashed. By the time I got home to our Bel Air estate, the headline "Harrison Knox Heartbroken? Tearful Reunion with Serena Vance" was already trending worldwide. The fallout was brutal. My father called, roaring that the stock was in freefall and threatening to stop my mother’s medical payments if I didn't keep Julian happy. My movie funding was pulled, leaving me to pawn my Birkin bags just to pay my staff. Even worse, Julian’s cold indifference turned into a sharp, quiet rage. He heard me tell a friend that our marriage felt like a transaction, and his response was to toss a black Centurion card at my feet like I was something he’d bought at an auction. I was trapped between a narcissist who wanted to use my trauma for his next script and a father who saw me as nothing but a bargaining chip. Even Julian, the man who secretly bought my movie rights through a shell company to protect me, believed I was still screaming my ex's name in my sleep. When my family finally demanded I lie and accuse Julian of domestic abuse to secure a settlement, I realized I had nothing left to lose. I walked away from the Vance name, deleted every memory of Harrison, and stood at the edge of the Pacific Ocean ready to let the tide take me. But Julian didn't come for a divorce. He found me in the dark, his coat heavy on my shoulders and his eyes burning with a possessive fire. "There is no divorce in the Sterling family," he whispered against my ear. "There is only widowhood. You are mine, Serena, until one of us is in the ground."

Chapters

Chapter 5

The lobby of Aurora Pictures was a cathedral of glass and steel, designed to make visitors feel insignificant. Serena walked to the reception desk, her heels clicking with a confidence she didn't feel.

"I have an appointment with Charles Chen," she told the receptionist.

The young woman behind the desk looked up. Her eyes widened slightly-recognition. Then pity.

"Mr. Chen is in a meeting," she said.

"I'll wait," Serena said.

She sat on a leather sofa in the waiting area. She waited for an hour. Then two. People bustled past-producers shouting into phones, actors clutching headshots. No one looked at her. She felt invisible.

Finally, an assistant scurried out. She didn't invite Serena back. She handed her a manila envelope.

"Mr. Chen asked me to give you this," the assistant said, avoiding eye contact. "The funding for Loving You has been placed on indefinite hold."

Serena stood up, the envelope crinkling in her grip. "What? We have a contract."

"Strategic realignment," the assistant recited. "Corporate policy."

"Is this because of the photos?" Serena demanded. "Because of the rumors?"

The assistant shrugged helplessly. "I just work here, Mrs. Sterling."

Serena stormed out of the building. The sun was high and brutal. She felt exposed. Without the Sterling seal of approval, she was toxic.

She drove to Soho House in West Hollywood. She needed a drink, or at least a friend.

Harper was waiting on the terrace, nursing a kale smoothie.

"They pulled the plug," Serena said, collapsing into the chair opposite her.

"I told you," Harper said, shaking her head. "This town has no loyalty. They smell blood in the water. Or in your case, divorce papers."

"We're not getting divorced," Serena said automatically.

"Does Julian know that?" Harper raised an eyebrow. "Look, Ren. Why are you doing this the hard way? You're married to a billionaire. Just ask him for the money. He spends more on car insurance than your budget requires."

"No," Serena said firmly. "I want this to be mine. If I take his money, it's just another thing I owe him. It's just another way I'm... kept."

...

Thirty feet away, behind a dense partition of climbing ivy, Julian Sterling stood perfectly still.

He was walking with two executives from Warner Bros, heading to his private table. As he passed the divide, the familiar cadence of her voice had stopped him cold. He had signaled the executives to continue without him and stepped closer to the greenery, hidden from view.

He listened.

"I don't want his money," Serena's voice drifted through the leaves, low and strained. "It makes me feel like a prostitute. Like I'm selling myself for lifestyle maintenance."

Julian's face went rigid. The temperature around him seemed to drop ten degrees.

He felt a sharp, stabbing pain in his chest. A prostitute. That was how she saw their marriage? That was how she saw his support?

He turned on his heel.

He didn't confront her. He didn't make a scene. He simply walked away, his stride long and furious, the words echoing in his mind like a curse.

...

"Oh my god," Harper whispered, looking over Serena's shoulder. "Ren. Don't look now."

"What?" Serena turned.

She caught a glimpse of a grey suit jacket disappearing around the corner of the building.

"Was that...?"

"That was Julian," Harper said, her eyes wide. "He looked pissed."

Serena's heart sank. She pulled out her phone and texted him.

Serena: Were you at Soho House?

No reply.

She waited five minutes. Ten.

Nothing.

She put her phone down. She felt sick. He had heard. He had heard her complaining about him, rejecting him.

"I have to fix this," she murmured. But how? She couldn't ask him for money now. It would prove his point-that she was just a gold digger.

She needed cash. Fast. Independent cash.

She looked at her purse. It was a Birkin, a gift from her father for her 21st birthday.

"Harper," Serena said slowly. "Do you still have the number for that consignment shop on Melrose?"

Harper stared at her. "You're going to sell your bags?"

"I'm going to fund my own movie," Serena said. "Whatever it takes."

Continue to next part

Ayleen Avery was just a struggling hotel worker trying to survive her shift. But during a sudden blackout, she accidentally stumbled into the pitch-black VIP suite of a ruthless billionaire driven mad by chronic insomnia. Calmed only by her unique natural scent of roses and rain, the terrifying man attacked her from the shadows and forced himself on her. Terrified and broken, Ayleen fled at dawn, unknowingly leaving behind her late mother's antique rose necklace in his bed. Her greedy coworker found the necklace, claimed to be the woman from that night, and was instantly swept into a life of luxury. Meanwhile, Ayleen was blackmailed into a forced marriage with her attacker—Cassius Doyle—to save her adoptive father from prison. Deceived by the stolen necklace, Cassius believed Ayleen was a manipulative spy. He brought the coworker into their home and paraded her around the master bedroom. "In this house, you are lower than the dirt on my shoes." He choked Ayleen, forced her to sleep in a damp storage room, and treated her with violent disgust while pampering the thief. Ayleen was suffocating in absolute despair. She had lost her innocence, her freedom, and her mother's only relic to a vicious liar. She couldn't understand how this all-powerful man could be so completely blind. Why couldn't he recognize the very scent that had cured his agonizing madness? Staring at the dark bruises he had just left on her neck, Ayleen wiped the blood from her lip. She would endure this three-month marriage to secure her family's safety, but once the contract ended, she would expose the truth and tear down the fake savior he cherished so much.

Billionaire Horror Romance

7.8

Claimed by the CEO

7.8

Anna Williams never imagined her life would collide with Alexander Knight-the cold, ruthless CEO feared across industries. When fate pushes her into his path, she discovers that power and wealth come with dangerous chains. Bound by a contract she can't escape, Anna must navigate his world of secrets, betrayal, and a passion that burns hotter than she ever dreamed. But behind his icy exterior lies a man scarred by trust and haunted by loss. Will she be able to melt the billionaire's heart, or will she remain just another possession... claimed by the CEO?

Billionaire Horror Modern

8.7

Claimed by three Alphas

8.7

Explicit 18+ | Reader Discretion Strongly Advised Dark themes, noncon/dubcon, extreme kink, power imbalance, group dynamics, knotting, overstimulation, and possessive claiming ahead. A brutal omegaverse world. Warring packs. Rare silver-eyed omega Kai Voss lives hidden until a midnight raid destroys his safety. The most feared triad captures him: Thorne Blackwood, a pierced sadist who pushes limits; Aurelius Voss, the volatile second, his knot pulsing with hunger; Cassian Reyes, the silent, amber-eyed observer whose fixation vows complete ownership. Dragged to their mountain den, Kai becomes their prize. Defiant and sharp-tongued, Kai resists every command. His body betrays him with slick, aching need. On the first night, the alphas take him, one by one, then together. They stretch him past reason. Knot him impossibly. Fill him until his rim thins visibly. Slick eases the searing burn into shattering pleasure. "Room for one more?" Thorne growls, forcing his pierced length beside the two already locked inside. He drags across sensitive spots until Kai arches, tears falling, his body yielding as omega instincts beg for more. Three cocks locked and throbbing, owning him entirely. "Fuck, he's taking us all," Aurelius groans. Cassian watches silently, eyes blazing, plotting the next step to remake Kai forever. Raw conquest becomes unbreakable obsession: relentless heats, punishments blending pain and ecstasy, jealous rivalries over cries, rare tenderness binding possession deeper. Three ruthless alphas pursue the forbidden, shattering their defiant omega until he is stretched wide, ruined, reborn in their image. Relentless desire shows no mercy: tight entrances forced open, rimmed raw by impossible girths, slick-soaked and pulsing under unyielding ownership. Hide and read in secret. Once the story begins, escape is impossible. Squirm. Ache. Hunger for every page. DON'T BLAME ME WHEN YOU CAN'T STOP READING ALL 150 CHAPTERS ⚠️🔞‼️

Action Horror LGBT+Mafia

8.3

From Rejected Omega to the Supreme Alpha's Queen

8.3

I stood before a polished black headstone, tracing the gold letters of my own name. Five years ago, my Fated Mate, Clayton, rejected me in a blizzard because I was a "useless Omega" who couldn't shift. He left me to freeze to death so he could mate with my sister, Ainsley, claiming it was necessary for the pack's genetics. Now, Clayton stood behind me, trembling as he dropped a bouquet of wilted lilies. He thought I was a ghost. But when he realized I was alive, the shock turned into arrogance. He tried to use his Alpha Command to force me to my knees. My family was even worse. When I walked into the pack house, my father accused me of treason for "faking my death." My aunt tried to slap me for being disrespectful. They demanded I donate my blood to save my father's life, still treating me like a disposable resource. They didn't realize that the pressure crushing the room wasn't coming from them—it was coming from me. They had thrown away a Royal White Wolf to keep a human pretending to be a shifter. The irony was suffocating. I didn't flinch when they threatened me. I just smiled and let my true aura explode, turning the air to ice. "You rejected me for being weak," I whispered, my eyes flashing silver. Then, the doors blew off their hinges. My husband, the Supreme Alpha, walked in and grabbed the elders by the throat. "You just declared war on the Blood Moon Pack."

Horror Romance Werewolf

9.6

The Coldhearted Billionaire's Violent Possession

9.6

I snuck into the Long Island estate’s private study, desperate to find my boyfriend, Channing, and beg him for the money to save my mother’s life. But when I wrapped my arms around the man standing in the dark, I felt a body of cold, hard muscle that didn't belong to Channing. The lights flickered on, and I found myself pinned against the window by Constantine Warner, the ruthless head of the empire who despised me more than anyone on earth. He didn't pull away; he held me there, his gray eyes burning with a mix of razor-sharp disgust and a dark, violent hunger that terrified me to my core. Outside the room, my boyfriend Channing walked in, but instead of defending me, he laughed at my humiliation just to please his powerful brother. I was left with nothing—no money for my mother’s surgery, no dignity, and the haunting realization that the man who hated me most was the only one who truly saw me. Why did Constantine look at me like I was his prey, and what happens when the parasite finally decides to bite back?

Billionaire Horror Modern

8.3

The Curse of Ballet Shoes Made Me A luna

8.3

I was raised by my grandparents while my parents, obsessed with giving my sister perfect long legs, sought out a wizard to swap our legs-mine for hers, and hers for mine. In my past life, I yielded to their wishes. But in this life, I took revenge. I gave the enchanted ballet shoes to an ostrich. She gained long legs, but they were nothing like human limbs-feathers sprouted instead, twisted and grotesque like an ostrich's. By a Twist of the curse, I became the luna.

Fantasy Horror Werewolf

No Divorce, Only Widowhood: His Possession

Chapter 5

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