The Triflers

Triplets girls Jeane, Maria and lindy have to pay their parents debt or pay with their lives. Desperate, they recruited for a deadly sex game anchored by powerful and wealthy triplets Chad, klein and Thane Macmiller. 10 girls, 10 days to pleasure the Triplets boys, in exchange for 1million dollars to one winner. Will jeane and her sisters succeed or is there something unexpected waiting for them in the competition? This book contains strong language, rated 18 scenes and practices that some may consider offensive. PS: This is a short story of less than 50, 000 words and less than 50 chapters.

"You don't get to choose one of us, Maddison. You belong to all three. And we won't stop until you beg for more." Maddison was the perfect wife, the one who sacrificed everything for her husband’s success. Her reward? Finding him in their own bed with her stepsister, laughing about how "boring" Maddison was. Broken and burning for revenge, Maddison decides that if he is going to ruin her life, she will destroy his entire empire. To do it, she needs the city's most ruthless men: the Blackwood triplets. Ethan, the cold-blooded CEO; Asher, the dangerous fixer; and Caleb, the charmingly twisted financial mastermind. Maddison offers them her ex-husband's company shares in exchange for their lethal help. But the Blackwood brothers don’t want money. They want absolute control. They offer her a dark deal: they will erase her ex from existence, but in return, she must belong to them for three months. She thought it was just a business transaction. She didn't expect to be dragged into a storm of raw possessiveness and shared nights where no boundaries exist. Her ex-husband desperately wants her back, but it's too late—the three monsters have already claimed her.

For a decade, my world had been measured in laundry cycles, grocery lists, and the ever-growing pile of dishes in the sink. I was elbow-deep in soapy water, scrubbing the remnants of another family meal, when it happened. A sudden, silent cascade of text flickered at the edge of my vision, like subtitles for a movie only I could see: [Gosh, the heroine is so tragic. Her husband's entire family has been feeding on her luck like parasites!] [Her husband stole her graduate school admission and her career!] [The in-laws are literally siphoning her health away. No wonder she's always sick.] [And the sister-in-law took her "romance" stat! No wonder her love life is a desert.] [Heads up! Her husband's about to give her another "gift." Let's see how much more he takes from her this time.] My hands, clutching a greasy plate, froze. Right on cue, my husband, Tristan, sauntered into the kitchen. A smug, self-satisfied smile was plastered on his face as he took my wet hand. He slid a flimsy, garishly colored plastic bracelet onto my wrist. "Look what I got for you, sweetheart," he announced, his voice dripping with pride. "I made a special trip after work. Found it at the dollar store. It's romantic and economical, just like you always say you want. You love it, don't you?"

"I want you to be our personal stripper," declared Killian, his voice deep and cold, slicing through the air and quickening her heartbeat. The intensity in their gaze made her knees weaken, a sensation hard to ignore. Nervously, she gulped, managing to stammer, "S-Sir..." Atlas, positioned behind her, added, "We'll pay you thrice what you earn in this club, sweetheart." His warm breath teased the back of her neck, sending shivers down her spine. She instinctively closed her thighs, aware of their eyes lingering on her nearly naked form. The offer was undeniably tempting, almost too good to be true. Killian Knight and Atlas De Luca, both successful bachelors in the city, were her employers in which she worked as their assistant, and the unexpected sight of them in the strip club where she worked as a dancer was nothing short of a shock. What added to the surprise was the outrageous proposal they were making! But, being the sole provider of her family, Claire find it hard to decline their offer. For her, money is everything, especially because of their family condition. Being with a sick mother and a brother battling with leukemia, Claire shouldered everything, and she in desperate to make a living. And so, Claire found herself agreeing. Be their stripper? That’s a piece of cake for her. Or so she thought. Fate takes an unexpected turn for Claire when she finds herself falling for the men she promised not to get attached to. However, avoiding two drop-dead hot bachelors proves to be a challenge, especially when fate seems to favor their presence. Becoming the personal stripper for the affluent and influential Killian Knight and Atlas De Luca, Claire finds herself entangled in a web of emotions she never anticipated...

There were two famous deadweights in Kingsgate's high society. One was me, Millie Tanner, the pampered little princess whose only talents were shopping and throwing parties. The other was my childhood friend, Iver Langford, the fragile young heir born with autism and congenital heart failure. However, my older brother was the most feared name in the underworld, and my second brother was the richest man in the country. Iver's older sister was the undefeated queen of the courtroom, and his second sister was a surgeon whose hands could bring back the dead. One day, the four of them were chatting over a game of poker. "Raising one hopeless case takes the same effort as two. Might as well pair them off." Just like that, Iver and I signed the marriage papers. Our married life consisted of maxing out my second brother's credit cards, raiding my older brother's dinner table, and waiting for his sisters to show up with care packages. That was the routine, until my older brother sent us to attend a banquet at the Crestport tycoon's estate in his place. At the banquet, the tycoon's daughter, Portia Beaumont, waved around a blurry photo taken from behind and insisted I was the other woman who had stolen her boyfriend. I kept my temper. "You have the wrong person. I'm married, and this is my husband." Portia lost it on the spot and swung at me. "Married and still out here throwing yourself at men?" Iver stepped in front of me on instinct and took the slap meant for me. Blood seeped from the corner of his mouth. She sneered, "Oh, is he slow? His wife's out cheating and he can't even tell, but he still jumps in to protect her? One's a tramp, and the other's an idiot. The perfect match!" She flicked her wrist, and several bodyguards lunged toward us. "Get them both." My heart ached as I looked at Iver, and I dialed my older brother's number. "Someone's picking on me." These people had no idea. Crossing the four terrors of Kingsgate and living to tell about it was one thing. Messing with the two of us was something else entirely.

My wife, Alisha West, has always been obsessively frugal. After marrying her, my single guilty pleasure became blowing money on luxury watches—almost like revenge for how absurdly tightfisted she was. By the time our daughter, Elyse Day, turned 7, she had inherited every bit of her mother’s penny-pinching nature. The two of them looked completely out of place in our sprawling mansion. And I loved it. I’d slip into my latest custom-tailored suits and watch them wince at my credit card statements, their expressions twisted in quiet pain. Until one day, lines of floating text suddenly appeared before my eyes. [This spendthrift idiot is still shopping? Doesn’t he know his wife’s company is about to go bankrupt?] [She’s been drained dry supporting this parasite. Her T-shirt collar is practically worn out from washing. Good thing the financially savvy male lead is about to show up and save her.] [Can’t wait for Alisha to file for divorce and kick this useless freeloader out. Let’s see how he survives fighting stray dogs for scraps under a bridge.] I slammed the limited-edition Richard Mille watch onto the table. Alisha, who was crouched on the floor breaking down delivery boxes for recycling, and Elyse, who was helping stomp them flat, both jumped in shock. A chill ran through me. I lunged forward, snatched the battered cardboard box from Elyse’s hands, and held it tightly against my chest. "No… no more buying. I’m returning this watch. "And these boxes… don’t sell them. I think we might need them someday… to lay out under a bridge when we’re sleeping outside…"