
The Billionaire's Sex Slave
Veronica_ · Ongoing · 121.0k Words
Introduction
"Just be my sex slave and you will never experience the suffering you felt before," the man said, who was kind to me after I lost my family.
They died of the massacre that took place three years ago. A company wants to reconstruct or remodel our place. Many disagreed and revolted which caused the massacre. The issue was not discussed, no one was angry. Until now, the perpetrator of the incident has not been named. I want to retaliate for what happened to my family but I don't have the power.
Soon, I just chose to move on from what happened, until I met Andrius Easton. A billionaire who just suddenly appeared into my life. I didn't know where his offer would take me or what are the payments but I chose to respond:
"Deal."
Chapter 1
Tears streamed down my face as I gripped the sharp knife, its crimson liquid dripping onto the floor. I knelt beside the man I loved, my heart sinking at the sight of him lying motionless. My desire to touch him was overwhelming, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. The thought of kissing him filled me with disgust, and I despised him for what he had done to me. But as I loathed him, I loathed myself even more.
I reached for the phone that was lying in the drawer and, despite my trembling hands, I managed to dial the number for the ambulance station. The call was answered on the first ring.
“911, what is your emergency?”
“Go to 2187 NYC Urban Calm, High town C. O Clark.”
Without hesitation, I disconnected the call and made my way up to the second floor. Despite the presence of a bloodstain on my hand, I persisted with my packing.
Once I was finished, I promptly washed my hands and hurried out of the house. I raced over to the primary gate and hailed a taxi. Before stepping inside, I took several glances at the mansion that had held such a significant place in my heart. It had been a source of inspiration, filling me with hope and a sense of belonging.
As I was reading through a paper and browsing some photos, everything suddenly fell apart. It felt like a venomous serpent had coiled around me, and the antidote was unavailable, leaving me to suffer the intentional poisoning.
As I sat in the taxi, tears streamed down my face. I couldn’t help but glance back at the house I had left behind, the same house I had once called my home. Despite the flood of emotions overwhelming me, I made the difficult decision to push everything aside and move on.
“I’ll begin anew, but this time without you by my side.”
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From substitute to queen—her revenge has just begun!
The mafia princess return
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It was reckless. It was stupid. It was completely ill-advised.
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And, as it turned out, the best decision I’d ever made.
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"Get off her!" a deafening roar echoed.
I didn't expect the twin brothers who'd bullied me at school to come charging in like gods to save me.
After my grandmother passed, I had to move in with my mom and stepdad, who treated me like a servant. I prayed every day for my 18th birthday to come, so l could leave and escape this broken home.
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That roar stole my eighteenth birthday and shattered my world. My first shift should have been glory—blood turned blessing into shame. By dawn they'd branded me "cursed": cast out by my pack, abandoned by family, stripped of my nature. My father didn't defend me—he sent me to a forsaken island where wolfless outcasts were forged into weapons, forced to kill each other until only one could leave.
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"Let me go," I whimper, my body trembling with need. "I don't want you touching me."
I fall forward onto the bed then turn around to stare at him. The dark tattoos of Domonic's chiseled shoulders, quiver and and expand with the heave of his chest. His deep dimpled smile is full of arrogance as he reaches behind himself to lock the door.
Biting his lip, he stalks toward me, his hand going to the seam of his pants and the thickening bulge there.
"Are you sure you don't want me to touch you?" He whispers, untying the knot and slipping a hand inside. "Because I swear to God, that is all I have been wanting to do. Every single day from the moment you stepped in our bar and I smelled your perfect flavor from across the room."
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**
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**
I hate girls like her.
Entitled.
Delicate.
And still—
Still.
The image of her standing in the doorway, clutching her cardigan tighter around her narrow shoulders, trying to smile through the awkwardness, won’t leave me.
Neither does the memory of Tyler. Leaving her here without a second thought.
I shouldn’t care.
I don’t care.
It’s not my problem if Tyler’s an idiot.
It’s not my business if some spoiled little princess has to walk home in the dark.
I’m not here to rescue anyone.
Especially not her.
Especially not someone like her.
She’s not my problem.
And I’ll make damn sure she never becomes one.
But when my eyes fell on her lips, I wanted her to be mine.












