Blackstone Surround Table Novels & Stories

At a family dinner that weekend, my sister, our relatives, and I played a reverse version of "Never Have I Ever," where you bragged about stuff nobody else had done. By the third round, everyone was getting into it. Uncle Danny bragged about seeing the city at four in the morning. My cousin Kenny said he could play three instruments. I said I'd traveled to three countries for work. Then it was Sophie's turn. She lifted her chin, eyes lighting up. "I own a condo that's only in my name." A beat later, she added, "Mom bought it for me. She didn't want my future in-laws looking down on me after I get married." The table went dead quiet. I looked at Mom on instinct. She lowered her head and messed with her apron, refusing to look at me.

At our college reunion, I let slip about the three great catches I was dating online. One ran a successful law firm, the other was a researcher at a leading institute, while another was an up-and-coming tech mogul on the Forbes list. My so-called best friend, Cassie Young, paused halfway through her plate of ribs. Giving me the side glance, she voiced her sarcasm. “I feel sorry for your future husband. Of all the women he could have, he had to marry someone with a rich history.” I took a sip of my juice and responded, “Honestly, I’m pretty stressed about the whole thing. They are all amazing. I can’t decide between them. Cassie, does anyone tickle your fancy? You can have one.” As her cutlery clattered on the table, Cassie widened her eyes. “A-Are you for real?”

Let's get this over with." Those were the longest words I'd heard him say ever since his entrance to the room. His hoarse voice which held no sign of emotion rumbled like a distant thunder in the large sitting room that was now occupied by his mother, Jane Jordan - the heiress of Jordan Jewelleries, the dark haired judge who sat by an oak table that had been placed in the center of the room for this purpose, Mother, and I , the I-know-nothing-about-this bride dressed in a knee-length lavender gown and silver stiletto heels, nothing befitting for a bride on her big day.  ... "And do you, Ashley, take Alexander to be your lawfully wedded husband?" I sucked in a sharp breath as I closed my eyes. "I do." My fate has been sealed. Just like that, I'm married to a man I know nothing about.

"System, I request to leave the mission world." The summoned system quickly appeared. "Ms. Young, your request has been approved. You have half a month to say goodbye to your family in this world." With that said, the system disappeared again. Andrea Young paused for a long time at the mention of the word "Family" before slowly looking toward the family photo on the table beside her. In the photo, her husband and son were each lovingly kissing her cheeks. The happiness captured in that moment suddenly left her stunned. No one knew Andrea was on a mission. Ten years ago, the system brought her into this world to win the heart of Gabriel Fulton, the crown prince of Capital City. They went from attending school together to the wedding altar over the past decade. She not only completed her mission, but also fell in love with the target of her mission.

"Stop... Don't! I'm already at my limit!" I'm on my knees on the floor, tears streaming down my face, while a shirtless man stands in front of me with a leather whip in his hand. His voice stays gentle, but his movements never slow. "Babe, we're only halfway there." After I come back from the dead, I spend 80 million dollars hiring the most expensive male model in all of Navarro to spend the night with me. With that kind of money on the table, the service absolutely lives up to its price. He pulls out every trick I've never tried in my life. The next morning, I'm sitting astride him, using him as my morning workout, when suddenly there's one more person in the room. My husband, the Don of a mafia family, Leone Vieri.

When Matthew Sinclair accused me of selling company secrets, I expected my girlfriend to stand by me. Instead, Selena Oxford told me to apologize. To the man who framed me. That was the moment I understood that trust was not something you pleaded for. You either had it, or you did not. I resigned the same day, cut every tie, left a ring on the table that she would never wear, and walked out of her life without looking back. I believed we would never cross paths again. Eight years later, at a black-tie banquet, Selena spotted me across the crowd. I was dancing with another woman, moving through the room as if I belonged there. In front of everyone, now known as a corporate powerhouse, she met my gaze with red-rimmed eyes and asked, "Was it for her? Is that why you left me eight years ago?"

"What if... what if I had gotten pregnant back then? What if we had a child together? What would you do in that situation?" Ms. Julia leaned in, moving close to my ear, and whispered with a chilling intensity, "I would have killed him without a second thought." My eyes widened in shock, but the devil woman nodded with a cold smile. "That's right. Collin's heir can only be born from a woman who is exceptionally beautiful and exudes class, someone worthy of standing beside my handsome son. You, my dear, do not meet our standards. We have high expectations, girls." Marissa Bennett was left reeling from her mother-in-law's chilling words. Her elder sister, Renee, had abandoned her disabled fiancé on their wedding day, leaving Marissa to step in and marry him under the guise of Renee, all to save the family's reputation. The cruel twist? Marissa was forbidden from revealing her true identity to her new husband, Tyler Collins. After Tyler's surgery restored his health, Marissa's world was shattered when Renee returned, demanding her place as the rightful wife. Desperate to tell Tyler the truth, Marissa faced a dire threat from her mother-in-law, who vowed to kill her if she exposed the deception. Now pregnant and determined to protect her unborn child, Marissa must navigate the treacherous waters of the Collins family, seeking a way to escape and start anew, far from the lies and danger that surround her.

I'm on my knees because they told me to kneel. Not because I have to—because I want to. Because when Haruto's hand grips my hair and Marcus whispers "good girl" in my ear and Julian watches with those grey eyes that miss nothing, I feel more loved than I ever have alone. Haruto pulls my head back, makes me look up at all three of them. "Whose are you?" he asks. "Mine," Marcus answers first, running a thumb across my bottom lip. "Ours," Julian corrects quietly, and the word settles in my chest like a heartbeat. They take turns using my mouth,and my body. Haruto is desperate and possessive, fucking my throat like he's still making up for six years of silence. Marcus holds my hand through it, sweet even when he's rough. Julian watches until he can't anymore, then joins, then takes over. When they lay me on the bed and surround me—Haruto inside me, Marcus at my mouth, Julian whispering filthy praise in my ear—I understand. This isn't about control. It's about being so completely theirs that nothing else matters. Not even the woman who wants me dead. But that's later. Right now, I have three men who love me, and I'm exactly where I belong. On my knees. On my back. In their arms. Always.

“I hate you!” I picked up the flower vase from the center table, and lifted my hand to throw it at him. But before I could do so, the man from behind gripped my hand, and collected it from me. “Are you going to sign the divorce papers?” he brought out a gun, and cocked it. “Or would you rather lose your life?” ****************** Sometimes, saying 'I do' could be the beginning of true marital bliss. And other times? It could be the beginning of endless suffering and torture. Abby had only ever wanted a man for herself, and when Claude showed up, he was everything she could ask for, and even more. But sometimes, even criminals wear innocent faces. What happens when Abby learns that the man whom she loved was responsible for the explosion that claimed the lives of her parents and best friend?

I was the stand-in who looked most like my husband's first love. He put me through countless plastic surgeries, both major and minor ones, until I became her exact likeness. But then, she came back from the dead. All it took was her saying, "I don't like anyone looking like me," and he sent me right back to the operating table once more. I begged him, telling him that my body couldn't handle it anymore. Alas, he only looked at me with irritation. "Seeing that cheap imitation of her face just disgusts me," he sneered. "No matter how close you come, you'll never be her." In the end, I died on that operating table. Yet, he went mad, trying desperately to recall what I once looked like.