Ignored for Five Years: I Went Live and Seduced His Brother-in-Law
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Introduction
At the Jones family’s political marriage gala, the New York mafia’s most public “celebration”, I, Isabella Rossi, who was a bargaining chip, had been Donovan Jones’s wife for five years.
He was the world’s top perfumer, the kind of man who could coax a scent from his fingertips that made people go mad-and yet, to him, I was a flower with no fragrance at all.
Five years of this marriage, and he had never touched me. The villa’s master bedroom was always his alone, while I was nothing but the “Mrs. Jones” in name-a decorative prop trapped in a luxury cage, so insignificant that even the servants dared to look down on me in secret.
When both sets of parents pressured us for a baby, he wrapped an arm around a famous model and sneered,
“A woman raised off a template like you is only good for taking care of a kid, not for sleeping with.”
He left me behind in the bridal suite-with his younger brother.
Then he took his new fling out street-racing.
That same night, a video of him and the model hooking up in a car shot straight to the top of the entertainment headlines.
And I became New York media’s favorite punchline: the “DISCARDED TROPHY WIFE.”
Just when everyone thought I’d spend the night alone, guarding an empty bed,
I crooked a finger at that eight-pack, absurdly good-looking brother-in-law of mine.
Donovan, you’re right-I am pretty suited to “taking care of a kid.”
Just not a baby. A 6'2", baby-faced college boy.
He was the world’s top perfumer, the kind of man who could coax a scent from his fingertips that made people go mad-and yet, to him, I was a flower with no fragrance at all.
Five years of this marriage, and he had never touched me. The villa’s master bedroom was always his alone, while I was nothing but the “Mrs. Jones” in name-a decorative prop trapped in a luxury cage, so insignificant that even the servants dared to look down on me in secret.
When both sets of parents pressured us for a baby, he wrapped an arm around a famous model and sneered,
“A woman raised off a template like you is only good for taking care of a kid, not for sleeping with.”
He left me behind in the bridal suite-with his younger brother.
Then he took his new fling out street-racing.
That same night, a video of him and the model hooking up in a car shot straight to the top of the entertainment headlines.
And I became New York media’s favorite punchline: the “DISCARDED TROPHY WIFE.”
Just when everyone thought I’d spend the night alone, guarding an empty bed,
I crooked a finger at that eight-pack, absurdly good-looking brother-in-law of mine.
Donovan, you’re right-I am pretty suited to “taking care of a kid.”
Just not a baby. A 6'2", baby-faced college boy.
Chapter 1
I picked up my phone and went live, the camera aimed at a wedding suite that looked festive but felt ice-cold-and at Tristan and me pressed close together.
“Oh my God, isn’t that Mrs. Jones?”
“Donovan’s out playing with a young model, and Mrs. Jones is fooling around with some other man in the bridal suite. Rich people really do whatever they want.”
“Who’s that guy? That body is insane. Mrs. Jones is lucky.”
“I know him-he’s Donovan’s younger brother, Tristan Jones. The Jones family’s ‘Little Donovan’!”
In just a few minutes, millions flooded into the stream. It shot straight to No. 1 on the rankings.
I was in a silk nightgown, leaning into Tristan, one hand hooked under his chin as I murmured,
“You’ve got guts, helping me like this. Aren’t you afraid your brother’s going to be pissed?”
A notification chimed. Tristan glanced down, then grinned like a delinquent.
“I am. That’s why I’m leaving first. I’m not sticking around to listen to him nag.”
A few minutes later, Donovan stormed in with a face like thunder. Right behind him was Ava, her cheeks still flushed, the post-coital glow not even gone yet.
The headline video I’d just seen flashed through my mind, and the sour ache I’d forced down surged back up.
I hadn’t even opened my mouth.
“Smack.”
A slap whipped my head to the side.
“Isabella, are you really this shameless? Seducing your own brother-in-law?”
“Seduce a man, go live while you’re at it-you still have any dignity left?”
Donovan ground his teeth, the disgust in his eyes like he was staring at trash.
Slowly, I turned back. I wiped the blood seeping at the corner of my mouth and let my voice drip with mockery.
“Donovan, what right do you have to talk to me like that?”
Five years into this marriage alliance, I’d been laughed at across the city for five years.
Everyone said I was a placeholder in the Jones family.
Even the Jones household staff knew how to size people up. They’d found a hundred ways to show me attitude.
I’d swallowed it for five years.
And now he thought I’d still sit in this bridal suite like an idiot, waiting for him to “grant” me his attention?
Ignoring the fury on Donovan’s face, I turned to leave. Then a harsh ripping sound sliced through the air behind me.
“Ah!”
I toppled backward. My nightgown tore open and slid down, exposing far too much skin.
The livestream I hadn’t managed to shut off erupted instantly.
“Holy hell-the perks tonight are unreal!”
I snatched the bedsheet, wrapped it around myself, and closed the stream. When I spun around, I saw Ava’s heel planted on the torn hem of my nightgown.
“Ava! You bitch!”
Fury detonated in my chest. I lifted my hand-but Donovan grabbed my wrist and stopped me.
Ava chose that moment to speak, her voice soft and wronged.
“Isabella, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
As she spoke, she dabbed at the corner of her eye, deliberate in how helpless she looked.
Donovan’s brows knit, his expression turning even darker.
“Isabella, what does this have to do with Ava? You’re the one acting cheap.”
He shoved me hard. I couldn’t stop myself from slamming into the table.
Crash.
Porcelain shattered on the floor. A jagged shard speared straight into my palm, and blood instantly soaked into the carpet.
Donovan didn’t even blink. His voice stayed cold as steel.
“That’s your lesson. Maybe it’ll teach you to remember.”
“From now on, behave like Mrs. Jones. Don’t embarrass me again.”
I collapsed on the floor, pain twisting my face.
Tears gathered fast in my eyes. I clenched my jaw and forced them back-I refused to let a single drop fall.
Seeing me with my head lowered, Donovan seemed about to reach out-but Ava slipped in and stopped him.
“Sis, get up. The floor’s cold.”
I slapped her hand away and pushed myself up, unsteady, using the other hand for support.
Donovan’s face went black.
“Isabella, these pathetic tricks you use to get my attention? Disgusting.”
“You and Ava were taught by the same professor. How can you two be so different?”
My body went rigid. My face drained of color. My heart clenched so hard it felt like it tore.
A tear slid down soundlessly. Donovan and Ava’s retreating figures blurred at the edges of my vision.
After a long time, I finally picked up my phone and dialed that number.
Donovan, this Donna assignment, I wasn’t doing it anymore.
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A Madonna that was meant to be admired but never touched.
Until someone took that innocence from her.
She left.
The darkness in my heart was finally complete.
I avenged her, I killed for her, but she never came back.
Until I saw her again. An angel dancing around a pole for money.
She didn’t know I owned that club. She didn’t know I was watching.
This time I won’t let her escape.
I will make her back into the girl I knew.
Whether she likes it or not.
2/ Judge and Jury- I can’t stop watching her.
I’m not even sure I want to.
Taylor Lawson, blonde, beautiful, and totally oblivious to how much dangers she’s in.
She’s also the one juror in my upcoming murder trial that hasn’t been bought.
The one who can put me behind bars for a very long time.
I know I should execute her.
After all that’s what I do.
I am the Judge.
I eliminate threats to The Family.
And Taylor is a threat.
But I don’t want to kill her.
Possessing her, making her love me seems like a much better plan for this particular Juror.
3/ Rags and Ritches-
The Alpha & The Vampire Queen
1.1k Views · Ongoing · Kassy Rae Wall
Ambrosia, the Vampire Queen, believed her only duty was to safeguard the hard-won peace; yet, due to her brother Xander’s descent into chaos, she finds herself once again ensnared in a vortex of destiny. Ambrosia must make one of the hardest decisions she has ever had to make before, she must hunt her brother down and get a handle on the chaos that he is so determined to create. With the help of her sister in laws and a head dive she is able to see and know that her entire life she has had forbidden magic used against her to block her memories. As her sealed memories gradually reawaken, she uncovers a history of brutal betrayal suffered in her childhood—and discovers that her true enemy is none other than her own father. She tasked herself with finding Xander and saving him, her need for vengeance grows and she makes the choice to challenge her father to the death. Rising from Queen to the ultimate Guardian, Ambrosia will exact her vengeance amidst blood and fire, undergo a rebirth to claim her true crown, and face the final battle that will determine the ultimate fate of the throne.
Whips crack against her skin, blood pooling on the cold stone floor, while her mother's pleas fade into silence, abandoning her to the monster's wrath. Xander's protective cries turn to accusations under Penny's dark spells, fracturing their sibling bond into shards of mistrust and isolation.
Whips crack against her skin, blood pooling on the cold stone floor, while her mother's pleas fade into silence, abandoning her to the monster's wrath. Xander's protective cries turn to accusations under Penny's dark spells, fracturing their sibling bond into shards of mistrust and isolation.
