Maggie Glass Novels & Stories

“You left me! You made your choice and it wasn't me.” I spit the accusation at him, trying to hide the devastation in my tone. “Your loss. Now she's ours! Ours to taste, ours to touch, ours to fuck.” Asher stakes his claim, he and Aspen wrapping their arms around me possessively. But Mason isn't cowered, stepping into me until I can feel his warm breath on my face. “I know you're hurt. You're angry. You blame me for abandoning you. But just so we're clear, this, them,“ He growls, snarling at the twins, “it changes nothing. You're mine, little one! Mine! I’ll take your pain, your anger, even your hatred. But I'll never let you go!” Elena Stone was the Glass Lake pack princess, doted on by everyone she knew. And no one adored her more than the Beta's son, Mason Cross. So when he abandons her, breaking his promise to never leave her side, she's devastated by his betrayal. When Mason returns five years later, Elena is no longer the little girl he knew. She's a gorgeous woman with a fiery spirit. And she's already moved on. Mason's desperate to make her his, but twins Asher and Aspen insist she belongs to them. Will he be able to win her back? And if he does, will he have to share? With a killer on the loose and a target on her back, Elena just might need all three of them to protect her. Also check out: An Unwanted Fate- Completed A Tangled Fate: Bound By Her Betas- Completed A Cruel Fate: Her Gamma's Regret-Completed The warrior's Wild Wolf-Completed {Follows A Cruel Fate) Resisting The Alpha Triplets-Completed Her Heartbroken Alpha-Novella Completed (Follows RTAT)

When I'm about to apply for medical insurance for my son, Connor Sawyer, who's about to start his first year in kindergarten, I'm told that I'm not his biological father at all. "Are you sure this is your son? The system shows that his father is an entirely different person." I don't respond at all. Instead, I secretly take a photo of the unfamiliar-looking address before tracking it down. It turns out that it's actually a residential area right by my own. The moment my wife, Giselle Lambert, sees me, she freezes momentarily. At the same time, she blocks the door subconsciously with her hand. "In the end, you still found out about the truth. But there's no use kicking up a fuss, you know. I never mistreated you in any way over the past three years, after all." When I notice the familiar figure standing behind Giselle, I feel my limbs going cold. That person is actually my younger brother, Vincent Sawyer, who has just graduated from college. Vincent hands Giselle a glass of water before smiling at me apologetically. "Don't blame me, Hayden. The doctor says that I'm severely depressed, so I can't handle hearing a child's cries at all. I'm really thankful to you for raising Connor on my behalf in the past few years." At that moment, Connor, who's supposed to be waiting for me in my car, rushes into the apartment. He runs into Vincent's arms happily before turning to look at me. "Don't cry, Uncle Hayden. Daddy says you're a good person, so he's asked you for help. Mommy tells me that if I call you 'daddy' in your home, I'll get to visit my real daddy during the weekends."

When I was seven, my father brought home a beautiful lady who gave me a mango. That day, my mother watched me happily eating the mango while she signed her name on the divorce papers. After that, she jumped off the roof of our building. From then on, mangoes became the nightmare of my life. So on my wedding day, I told my husband, Alan Holt, "If you ever want a divorce, just give me a mango." Alan pulled me into his arms, quiet. From then on, mangoes became off-limits for him, too. On Christmas Eve of our fifth year of marriage, Alan's childhood sweetheart, Larissa Fennimore, left a mango on his desk at the office. The very same day, Alan announced he was cutting ties with Larissa and fired her from the company. That day, I truly believed he was the man I was meant to be with. Half a year later, I flew back from overseas, having just closed a partnership deal worth about 200 million dollars. At the celebration dinner, Alan handed me a drink. After I had finished half the glass, his so-called childhood sweetheart, the woman who had been kicked out of the company, stood behind me with a big grin and asked, "Does the mango juice taste good?" I stared at Alan in disbelief, and he was trying hard not to laugh. "Don't be mad. Larissa insisted I played a little joke on you. I didn't actually give you a mango; I just gave you a bottle of mango juice. But I think she's right. The fact that you don't eat mangoes is a real problem. You were really enjoying that juice just now." My face went cold. I lifted my hand and threw the rest of the mango juice in his face, then turned around and walked away. Some things are never a joke. I wouldn't kid around with mangoes or divorce.

“This is wrong. My husband…he…” I whispered, my voice trembling as I forced the words out. My protest sounded weak even to my ears, I tried hard to grasp the loose edges of my resolve. Deep down, I knew it was futile. He wouldn’t care. A low menacing chuckle rumbled from his chest. ‘Why was he laughing?’ He lifted his head, his dark eyes locking onto mine with a piercing intensity that made my knees weak. His gazed burned with a mixture of amusement and undeniable hunger… a raw feeling that stole the air from my lungs. “I don’t care about that,” he said, his voice a rich, velvety growl that sent heat straight to my belly. Before I could react, he leaned in, his lips brushing my ear. “You’re too damn sexy for him,” he murmured, his voice dripping with confidence and sin. That was all it took. My resolve shattered like a fragile glass, my body betraying me in ways I couldn’t control. My skin tingled, and the moist between my legs told me everything I didn’t want to admit. ****** Celine thought the mate bond would bring her the love and safety she always dreamed of. Instead, it became her prison. Bound to Lucien, the heir to the emerald forest pack, she finds herself trapped in a cruel and loveless marriage. But…everything changes when she meets Kaine, the Alpha king of bloodfang pack. From the moment their eyes met, an electrifying connection ignites between them. Kaine sees her pain, her beauty, the fire buried beneath her despair…and he wants her. As the Alpha king, Kaine gets whatever he desires, and so he sets his sight on Celine, determined to claim her as his own, no matter the cost.

I'm Jax Ryder, heir to the most powerful investment group in Veridian City. I had just returned from studying abroad. My father, worried I might impulsively marry the wrong woman, arranged a marriage for me with Everly, the heiress to the up-and-coming Sinclair Group. It was strictly a business arrangement. But that didn't mean I intended to just go through the motions. At the very least, I had to personally bid on the mansion that would serve as our marital home. And so, I found myself at the annual Starlight Charity Gala. When the legendary prime real estate, the "Siren's Cove Estate," was presented as the final auction item, I raised my paddle. Just as the gavel was about to fall, an arrogant voice cut through the room. "What right does a nobody like you have to bid? Step aside." The grand hall fell silent, the only sound the frantic clicking of camera shutters from all corners. I turned my head. A man in a flashy, sequined suit stood there. He swirled the champagne in his glass, his posture reeking of arrogance. Before I could even speak, the auctioneer brought the gavel down. "Sold! Congratulations to Mr. Brian Vance on winning the 'Siren's Cove Estate'!" I frowned, a flicker of anger rising within me. "The bidding wasn't over." "That's against the rules." Brian sneered. He looked me up and down, his eyes filled with contempt. "The rules?" He curled his lip. "Listen up. I'm Everly Sinclair's favorite stepbrother. In Veridian City, what I say goes." I had to stop myself from laughing out loud. This was interesting. My fiancée's stepbrother. I pulled out my phone and dialed her number. "Everly, your dear brother just snatched the marital home I'd picked out. What are you going to do about it?"

I'm a mafia princess with crippling social anxiety. My fiancé, Rocco Falcone, is our family's consigliere. He’s the exact opposite of me—extroverted, effortlessly charming, a master at reading and bending people. He's supposed to be my protector. My only link to the outside world. Tonight was the charity gala for my late mother. I was hiding in the darkest corner, a mask covering my face. Rocco was supposed to give the speech. My speech. He never showed. [Emergency. Sorry. Skip the speech, I know you hate the attention. Driver will take you home after the auction. Don't wait up.] Then I saw Livia’s new post. It was a picture of Rocco, draping his suit jacket over her shoulders. He was looking down at her, his eyes full of a tenderness he never showed me. The caption was a gut punch: [No prom date, so my big bro saved the day! Couldn't have done it without him! ] The cold hit me. Bone deep. He ditched a memorial for my dead mother... to take his stepsister to a university dance? The guests began whispering and sneering that I, the famously awkward, socially crippled princess, couldn’t even force a word out. I stared at the whiskey I’d ordered for him. The ice in my glass was melting. Just like the hope in my heart. When I got back to our empty penthouse, my screen was lit up with missed calls and texts from Rocco. The last one came in thirty minutes ago: [Aurelia, trouble at Livia's prom. You know how she gets. Couldn't leave her. Your mother's gala means everything. I'll make it up to you, I promise. Next time will be perfect. Trust me.] I didn't reply. An engagement held together by "next time." Was a promise like that even worth keeping?

Rule number one at Valour Group: Never stay past 6:00 PM. For most, leaving work early is a dream. For Katlyn Sterling, it’s a survival tactic. As the only assistant fierce enough to handle the cold and aloof billionaire Lukas Valour Hart, she has spent three long years strictly adhering to the rules—especially the one regarding his office door after sunset. She is used to his impossible demands and his suffocating silence, until the day the stakes become too high to walk away. When an urgent file forces Katlyn to breach his penthouse office at 6:01 PM, she doesn't find her billionaire boss. She finds a monster. Amidst shredded silk and shattered glass, Lukas Heart is mid-shift, a beast of shadow and golden eyes groaning in agonizing pain as he transforms into something unexplainable. Terrified, Katlyn does the only thing a sane person would do: she flees. But she doesn't get far before her beastly boss buries his fangs deep into the curve of her neck. She escapes the office, breathless and trembling, only to find the nightmare has followed her home. Waiting in her living room, laughing with her family, is Lukas. He isn't the boss she knows; he’s a predator wearing a suit, his smile a silent warning that her life is no longer her own. The next morning, Katlyn is ready to fly her family out of Jersey with a resignation letter in hand. But Lukas doesn't just reject her notice—he issues a demand. "Unfortunately, I marked you last night, assistant," he purrs, his gaze sweeping over her with possessive heat. "You can't leave. You won't survive twenty-four hours without my scent nearby. And since I need to ensure my secret stays buried... prepare yourself. We’re getting married in a week.”

On our seventh wedding anniversary, my wife, Blair, the daughter of the city's richest man, straddled my lap, her kiss deep and intoxicating as she toyed with my lower lip. The same night, we just announced our pregnancy to the world. Just then, Blair's best friend, Chloe, asked in French, her tone suggestive: "Blair, you're absolutely glowing. But tell me honestly, how does it feel to get railed by another man while carrying a baby?" Blair let out a soft laugh, a familiar sound that sent a chill down my spine. She replied, also in French: "It feels absolutely incredible, Chloe. He's like a wild wolf. Just yesterday, he had his head buried between my thighs, using his mouth to bring me to tears before taking me so deep I forgot my own name." Her fingers were still toying with my collar, but her gaze was already distant. "But remember, keep this from Kevin. If he finds out what I've been doing behind his back while pregnant, it will be a disaster." The socialite sisters gathered around them shared knowing chuckles, raising their glasses and promising to keep the secret. The warmth in my veins turned to ice. My fervent passion to welcome a new life was instantly reduced to a pathetic joke. They had all forgotten that I spent my childhood in southern France. I understood every single syllable. I forced myself to remain calm, my face fixed in the perfect smile expected of a blissful husband about to welcome his first child, but the hand holding my champagne glass was trembling. I didn't fly into a rage. I didn't smash everything in sight. Instead, I took out my phone, found the invitation I had received a few days prior for the Aegis Agency, a highly classified organization on the other side of the world, and clicked "Accept." In three days, I would vanish from Blair's world.

I parted my lips to speak, when Lila cut in. "It's a sensitive topic, father. Can we eat now?" She requested. I sighed gratefully, watching his actions without showing that I was. He held a glass of wine, and raised it gracefully. I stifled a moan. Goddess, his actions alone were enough to arouse me. He took a sensual sip, and I looked away, feeling my nipples hardening. When last had I felt the life being fucked out of me. Ever since my last boyfriend, that was. I hadn't had good sex since then. ~~~ "If you'll excuse me please." My voice barely sounded like a whisper. Without waiting for another minute, I rushed away, towards my room. I placed my back against the door, breathing hard. I didn't need to check, I could feel my juices soaking through my painties. It was lucky none of them saw my hardened nipple peeking through my dress. Goddess knew why I hadn't worn a bra. I needed a release. The thought had hardly formed in my head, when I rushed towards the bathroom, shutting the door close. I got under the shower, and turned it on. Placing my left leg on the wall, I closed my eyes. I pictured Vincenzo tracing his hand over my shoulder and I shuddered. I pushed my head back, my finger moving farther down my leg. I rubbed gently on my folds through the material, and moaned softly. I was fucking aroused. **** After banishment from her pack, Ella seeks refuge in her friend’s pack. The last thing she ever thought would happen was to fall for her friend’s father and the pleasure he has to offer. Can she navigate the treacherous waters of forbidden love and still maintain her relationship with her best friend?

My name is Clara Kelly. I was born in Brooklyn, into an Irish-American cop’s family. My father spent his whole career walking a beat out of the 84th Precinct. My mother volunteered at the parish. I was the first girl on our block to get into Columbia Law. The year I graduated, I was volunteering at a charity gala. I picked up the wrong glass of wine and ended up dumping it down the front of a man’s Brioni suit. That man was Adrian Francesco Moretti. Fourth-generation Don of the Moretti Family of New York, and one of the five families of Cosa Nostra. He chased me for four years. I said no six times. The seventh time, he stood outside my law firm in the rain until three-fifteen in the morning. I married him. Two decades in, he’d handed me the keys to the entire Moretti Family. In our world they called me “the Irish Donna,” a woman with no Italian blood who somehow held the seat. Childless by choice, the two of us. Famously in love. Until that Wednesday afternoon, when my college roommate of twenty years, my best friend Vivian Sinclair, walked into my living room with a five-year-old boy. She said the boy was Adrian’s son. She said that five years ago, she’d taken a used condom out of the wastebasket in my upstairs master bedroom, kept it frozen for three years, and done IVF. She said she was the real mother of the Moretti heir. She was the real Donna Moretti. “Be smart. Pack your bags and walk out. You might even get to keep your life.” “You’re barren. The Moretti Family doesn’t need you.” I looked at the woman I’d called my best friend for half my adult life. I didn’t say a word. She thought she was holding the winning card. What she didn’t know was that she’d just stepped onto a board Adrian and I had been laying for twenty years. I needed exactly one sentence to shatter every piece of the Donna fantasy she’d spent five years building.