Tomorrow #bts Novels & Stories

My boyfriend pulled in two million a year. He told me that once he'd banked five hundred thousand, he'd invest in my gallery. Year one, he said the startup was bleeding money; he hadn't saved a cent. Year two, he needed a new car to keep up appearances; no funds for me. By year five, he was on his private yacht brokering a major deal and told me not to bother him. I stood outside the cabin door and listened to the laughter rolling out from inside. "If Celeste wanted to open a gallery, Eth would write her a million-dollar check without blinking." "Hell yeah. If Celeste hadn't gone abroad back then, that knockoff he's got now wouldn't even be in the picture." Ethan's voice drifted through the crack in the door, lazy, dismissive. "Enough. Emily's been with me five years. I'll still put something in for her." "She's a free drafting machine. She's not worth five hundred grand. One day's revenue at the firm, maybe. Call it round. Two thousand bucks." My eyes burned. I pulled out my phone and called the one man Ethan hated most in all of New York, Adrian Sterling. "Mr. Sterling. That partnership agreement you offered me? I'm signing it first thing tomorrow morning."

“Ungh, yess, Daddy,” I moaned as my father in law’s thick fingers slipped between my thighs. “Shhh, Keep your voice down, sweetheart.” He growled. “Unless you want your husband and all your nice little friends to come upstairs and see what I'm doing to your tight sweetness." …. Susan catches her husband balls-deep in her sister, pounding her like there's no tomorrow, and the sight fills Susan with the hunger for revenge. She soon finds this vengeance in the filthy, dominating hands of her Mafia Don father-in-law, who ravages her like she's never been ravaged before, but unfortunately for her, it doesn’t end there. Because Her father inlaw becomes obsessed and turns her into his little revenge slave, taking and giving her delicious pleasure anywhere and anyhow. Blurb 2 Her stepbrother was supposed to be her enemy, the psychopathic man who ruined her life. But when he pinned her against the wall and whispered how much he wanted to own her, desire burned hotter than any revenge. She let him ravage her hard and dirty, let him fill her with his seed, and in that moment she knew the sweetest rebellion wasn't destroying him—it was making him fall in love with the woman who would eventually destroy him. And 2 other delicious stories.

The night I found out, I almost fixed it. Almost. My assignment had been changed to Everglades Academy. Two thousand miles south. Swamp territory. Three omegas died there last year. I'd asked Kael to file my school preference. Silver Peak Academy. Together. The way we'd planned since we were twelve, lying in the snow making promises to the stars. Now the screen said Everglades. I called him immediately. He picked up on the second ring, relaxed as always. "Hey." "My assignment," I said. "It says Everglades." "Oh." Not guilt. Recalibration. "Lil came by while I was filing yours. She wanted to play a prank—switched it to Everglades for a laugh." He laughed. Light. Careless. "Deadline's tomorrow night. Just override it yourself. It takes thirty seconds." "If I hadn't checked—" "But you did check." That patience. "Fen. You always check everything. That's why she knew you'd catch it. It was just a joke." Just a joke. So my future was a punchline. My life, someone else's entertainment. I said nothing. I packed my gear. I left for the transport hub on departure day. Kael found me at the platform. His smile was gone. "I told you to override it. You didn't change it back?" "No."

The night before the wedding, the effects of the drug wore off. I woke up in the master bedroom of the estate to the sound of laughter. The moment I opened my eyes, I saw my custom-made suit being cut into strips by Jessica Solomon's male best friend, Chris Johnson. As he twirled a pair of scissors in his hand, he joked with the viewers on his livestream. "Man of the house? Please. He's lying there completely helpless. Anybody could do whatever they want to him." Jessica's friends burst into laughter and chimed in. "Jessica put sleeping pills in his milk herself. Anybody would've been knocked out cold." The livestream chat flooded with comments ridiculing me as the pathetic man marrying into a wealthy family, but Jessica simply watched with amusement and reached over to ruffle Chris' hair. "Feeling better now? Be good and end the livestream. If he wakes up and causes a scene, tomorrow's wedding will be a mess." Only after everyone left did Jessica sit down beside the bed and pull the blanket over me. "Chris is depressed. He can't handle being upset. We'll deal with this later. "I've already arranged for a replacement suit to be flown in overnight on a private jet. Honestly, that one suits you better anyway." My fingers tightened around the bedsheet. Silently, I sent a message to Katie Everton. [I'm not getting married. Does what you said before still stand?]

Sara's legs straddling Austin's lap, their lips clashed in a fierce, passionate kiss. The sound of their lips meeting was like a spark, igniting a flame that threatened to consume them. "Mmm," Sara murmured, her lips vibrating against Austin's. "I hate you," Austin growled, his hands grasping her hips, pulling her closer. His fingers dug into her skin, sending shivers down her spine. Sara's hands were just as busy, her fingers tracing the lines of Austin's face, her thumbs brushing against his lips. "I hate you too," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of their kissing. Their lips parted for a moment, and Austin's tongue darted out, tracing the curve of Sara's lower lip. She moaned, her hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. Sara's hands began to roam, her fingers tracing the contours of Austin's chest. She reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head. As she exposed his chest, Austin's eyes locked onto hers, a warning flashing in their depths. "You'll hate me tomorrow," he said, his voice low and rough. Sara's eyes flashed with defiance, her hands continuing to explore Austin's chest. "We don't like each other anyway," she said, her voice husky with desire.

My wife, Ivy Hart, is about to give birth to the baby she conceived with Toby Clayton, her first love. Her parents hire ten bodyguards to stand guard outside the delivery room. Cora Norris, Ivy's mother, takes Ivy's hand and remarks, "Don't worry, Ivy. We'll make sure he can't get within two feet of you! Your dad is standing guard outside with the bodyguards. If he dares to stop you from having the baby, we'll report him to the police!" Ivy nods, her complexion pale, but she instinctively looks toward the door anyway. She doesn't see why I can't be more understanding of her. All she wants to do is help Toby have a child to carry on his family name. The birth proceeds without me showing up to cause a scene. She smiles gladly when she sees the crying baby in the nurse's arms. She thinks to herself that if I visit her tomorrow, she is willing to forget all about our previous fights. She is even willing to let me be the baby's father. What she doesn't know is that I've already submitted my application to the Alliance of Nations. In seven days, I will be leaving the country to become a field doctor for the Frontline Medical Corp, a humanitarian organization. I won't be coming back ever again.

The birthday gift I gave my husband was found in a doghouse by the side of the road. I spent the next five years as the butt of all jokes made by Cascade City's high society wives. Every year when Julian Carter's birthday came around, they would bring it up again, teasing that the gift I bought him was surely the most expensive one of all. "That's nouveau riche taste for you. She thinks the more expensive it is, the better." "Yeah, but I wonder where they'll find it this year. Another doghouse, maybe?" The women burst into laughter. Then, they realized something was different. This year, I had not given Julian anything at all. In fact, as his birthday drew to a close, I still had not shown up. "Laura, where's my birthday present? And what kind of behavior is this? You disappeared for the entire day. Do you have any idea how unhappy everyone in the family has been?" Julian's eyes were dark with irritation. I pushed back my sleep-mussed hair, only then remembering that it seemed to be Julian's birthday. "Oh, sorry. I forgot." After a brief pause, I added casually, "I'll have my assistant pick something out tomorrow and send it over." For a moment, he simply stared at me, as if he could not believe what he had just heard. "What did you just say?"

"That's going to conclude our session today" "Please, come back tomorrow, miss Athena. I enjoy your visit, especially when it's in this lone alone" He rasped, voice raspy as ever. Sadistic was his way of analyzing her features and expressions, he finds amusement in her suffering. Then she won't suffer. "don't forget that they're cameras here and all your sessions is being recorded Nyx, along with the guards out there, they just need me to press this button to make them walk in, "she said, locking her eyes with him as she showed him the red button of the instrument of the recording room. She eyes him silently." I don't have a problem with that " he paused before he continued" but I have one when you come to my cell, showing off your genius ass to the other prisoners, Doctor " he spoke. as she looked at him weirdly, until realization hit her. So the villain can be jealous. Interesting. "Jealous much? " "Yes, after all, you're my therapist, not theirs right ??" "maybe?" she paused taking a deep breath, "but what can I say? It seemed to me that the Villain is jealous. Goodbye, Mr. Nyx." She stood up, arranging her papers before walking toward the door. She was leaving him hanging on her words. The villain of her story.

“Bend over. I’m going to fuck you so hard, you won’t have the energy to run away from me tomorrow," he growled, and the threat alone made my panties dampen. Emilia Visconti has always lived by the rules. But when she moves to Italy, rules are broken and Raffaele de Luca is the only man dangerous enough to shatter them all. Dangerous, ruthless, and demanding, he drags her into a world of power, blood, and forbidden desire. But Emilia is no fragile victim. She is clever, stubborn, and fiery, a woman who fights even when the odds are stacked against her. Raffaele doesn’t choose her. He claims her. Because her father caused the death of his father, she becomes the tool of his revenge. Every touch, every command, every claim on her body is a reminder that she belongs to him, and he will use her to make the Romano family pay… with her name beside his. Yet shadows of her past refuse to let her go. Adriàn Cortez, the only man she’s ever truly loved, haunts her heart and her desire, threatening to undo everything Raffaele has claimed. What begins as vengeance twists into obsession. What should have destroyed them both becomes the fire neither can resist… even as passion, danger, and desire pull her in two irresistible directions

My fiancé was sleeping with my maid of honor. I caught them the night before our wedding. I didn't make a sound. I closed the door, walked back to my bridal suite, and sat at the vanity until my hands stopped shaking. Then I grabbed my keys. At two in the morning I drove forty blocks across Manhattan and knocked on Atlas Marchetti's door. Two years ago I'd told my family I wouldn't marry him. He hadn't said a word about it since. He opened the door in pajama pants. "Marry me tomorrow," I said. He didn't say yes. He poured himself a drink first, listened to everything, and then handed me a piece of paper with terms I should have read more carefully. I signed at dawn. Six hours later I walked down the aisle Carter and I had planned. The Plaza ballroom. The dress I'd chosen in spring. Three hundred guests who came to watch me marry the wrong man. I married someone else instead. Carter watched it happen. He didn't understand yet what he'd lost, and he wouldn't understand for months. Not until he found out who owned the company he ran, and how long Atlas had been bleeding it. I went to Atlas for revenge. He'd been writing this for two years.