68 Book(s) Related to undercover maid

Locked away as a cursed Omega, she's been treated as an abomination—a stain on the WhiteMoon pack that must be erased. She doesn't remember her birth, only the prophecy of her death. So when her final day arrives, she's ready. Eager, even.

But instead of the death sentence, they give her a wedding dress.

Aaron Blackwood—the Mad King has come for his bride. He'd planned to slaughter the WhiteMoon pack like all the others, but Alpha Roman made a desperate bargain: a life for a life. A sacrificial lamb in exchange for mercy.

And who better to sacrifice than the girl they've already condemned?

Now Odette must face a fate worse than the death she craved: becoming the bride of a monster. But the Mad King isn't the only one with secrets—and Odette's curse may be the very thing that saves her... or destroys them all.

Three years ago, to save my Clan Lord husband from a hunter's death trap, I forced him to stop at the border.

Instead, his First Embrace, Seraphina, crossed in his place and was burned to ashes.

Shattered by her death, he suffered a breakdown and was diagnosed with Crimson Frenzy.

For three years, I let him wildly drain my source blood, cheating death in underground clinics countless times.

This time, his violent feeding caused a miscarriage and permanently destroyed my ability to conceive.

Yet, while still in agony and desperate to find him a cure, I overheard his secret conversation with the butler.

"My Lord, Seraphina is still alive. Why keep faking this illness? If the Madame finds out and severs the Blood Pact..."

"Sever it? What right does she have? If she hadn't blocked me back then, Seraphina would never have run off with another vampire. She deserves every bit of this suffering!"

I saved my husband's life with my left hand—now it's permanently damaged. For five years, he's given me everything except love. Tonight I caught him pleasuring himself to his ex-girlfriend's photo. I'm done being the grateful cripple wife. Time to disappear.

At my sister's funeral, I asked her grieving fiancé to marry me.

He said yes—not for love, but for revenge.

Now I wear her bloodstained wedding gown. I choke down her favorite foods until my throat closes. I endure his hatred in the bed where she should lie.

He thinks this is my punishment. He's right.

But when the truth about her death finally surfaces, the man who made my life a living hell will find himself trapped in an eternity of regret.

I didn’t move. I couldn’t. The Lycan took another step toward me, lowering his head. His golden eyes softened, not completely, but enough to show a flicker of something other than hate. Recognition?

My trembling hand hovered in the air before landing gently against his snout. He didn't bite or growl. He… leaned in?

And everyone lost their minds.

"No one touches the Alpha like that!" someone cried. "Especially not a slave."

"How is she not dead?"

Ari Shimmer got demoted from being the Luna and was also banished from her pack the same day. Not only had she found her mate and fiancé in bed with her sister, but he had also called her sacrifices worthless. Even though it cost her her wolf and her womb.
Just when she thought all was lost, Alpha Stone, a mad Lycan king found her. The King's ailment that had no cure or anyone who could calm his wolf suddenly turned soft for Ari, shocking everyone in Ricko, the Lycan pack. This raised the question for Ari. Would she stop to help the mad king in a strange pack? Or would she take the risk of facing the dangers of the outside world?

From a young age, I understood that my asthma was a shackle for my entire family. My parents took turns caring for me, their hearts gripped by the fear of any sign of respiratory distress. In their fervent concern for my health, they even compelled my sister, Sophie, freshly accepted into university, to postpone her studies and return home to assist in my care.
At Sophie's eighteenth birthday celebration, I lingered at the edge of the crowd, my chest constricted, and my throat felt as if it were ensnared by invisible hands. I gently tugged at my mother's sleeve, my voice barely a whisper: "Mom, I... can't breathe. I want to go back to my room..."
In an instant, my mother whirled around, her eyes ablaze with fury, as though she had awaited this moment of eruption. She seized my inhaler and hurled it into the farthest corner of the room.
"If it's this painful, then go die!" she shrieked, her words cutting like a knife. "Stop using your illness to hold us hostage!"
The inhaler tumbled to the floor, rolling away like a forgotten piece of trash. I stared at it blankly, a sudden laugh escaping my lips.
And then, I truly died. Yet, in the wake of my passing, those who once found me a burden descended into madness.

The King’s voice sliced through the murmurs of the hall, sharp and commanding. “Who are you?” he demanded, his words leaving no room for hesitation.
I opened my mouth to speak, but Gerald’s voice rang louder, colder, cutting through the room like steel. “Your entertainment for the night,” he declared.
My husband of two years, my supposed protector had betrayed me. He branded my parents, warriors who had fought and bled for his pack, as traitors, leaving their bodies to rot on enemy soil. And now, on the night the Alpha King arrived, he paraded his Beta as his Luna while offering me to the King as nothing more than a plaything.
Cast out of my pack, humiliated, and alone, I soon discovered I carried the King’s child. In a world ruled by war and a King who clearly despised women, survival seemed impossible but I would have to find a way.

To save my sister, I humbly married into her family, only to be treated like a parasite by my ex-wife, who was worth billions, and suffered endless humiliation.

When she stopped giving my sister her life-saving medication for her male best friend, I was completely desperate. On a snowy night, I plunged off a cliff with my car, and my body was never recovered.

It wasn't until the police presented her with her charred belongings and the truth about how I risked my life to save her that the once aloof woman went completely insane.

Three years later, I rose from the ashes as a multi-billionaire, while she knelt at my feet like a dog, begging and pleading, "Please... just look at me one more time..."

（There is a lot of sexual and stimulating content, minors are not allowed to read!!!）
She prepared for pregnancy and did her best to take care of her drunken husband.
Afterwards, her husband kicked her out, simply because his first love had returned.
After the divorce, she made it to the cover of Time magazine, reaching the peak of her life.
Her ex-husband pursued her all the way to the Civil Affairs Bureau, whispering tenderly, "Will you remarry me?"

⚠️ MATURE CONTENT WARNING (18+)
The Alpha’s Mercy: A Night of Mad Desires is a work of dark fiction intended for adult readers aged 18 and older. This story contains graphic and explicit content, including:
Explicit Sexual Scenes: Highly detailed and "mad sex" encounters.
Dark Romance Themes: Includes power imbalances, slave/master dynamics, and age-gap relationships.
Betrayal & Infidelity: Graphic depictions of orgy scenes and extreme sexual betrayal.
Violence & Cruelty: Scenes of physical abuse, "face slapping," and intense psychological revenge.
Mature Language: Use of strong, unfiltered language throughout

At my mother's funeral, I stopped outside the lounge.

Through the door, I heard Julian—my fiancé—delivering a cold warning to my father:

"You can stop obsessing over Harper, Richard. She's with me now. Don't bother her anymore."

My father immediately tried to use me to suppress him. "Don't forget you're marrying Sloane next week! If she finds out you're screwing the orphan her mother took in..."

Julian cut him off. "She'll never know. Just like she'll never know her mother didn't actually die of depression. She killed herself because she caught you two together."

Father's counterattack threw me straight into hell:

"What right do you have to judge me?! When Sloane was frantic, calling you for help, what were you doing? If you hadn't been rolling around in a hotel bed with Harper, if you hadn't lied to Sloane that you were 'on your way,' her mother would never have died!"

A violent ringing filled my ears.

I slammed the door open, stormed in, and slapped Julian across the face with every ounce of strength I had left.

The man I was supposed to marry in seven days merely turned his head. It took him exactly one second to suppress his shock.

"Since you heard everything, good. Better to accept reality now, so you don't break down later."

"For the sake of the Vance family heir you're carrying, the wedding next week proceeds as planned."

"But I have responsibilities to Harper, too. That tie won't be severed."

On the day my son died, I saw my husband out playing with his mistress and her child.
They carelessly destroyed my child's belongings and took over my home.
They even suspected I was lying, treating his death as a joke.
Only when I revealed I had just three months to live did my husband's remorse finally arrive.
But it was too late. I would personally take back everything that belonged to me!

In my past life, I was a wild, pureblood witch who tamed my own nature for love, willingly playing the submissive, perfect Luna for my fated Alpha.
But to him, I was just a savage that "needed to be brought to heel." When enemy wolves ambushed us, he held my manipulative, magicless adopted sister tight, leaving me to be ripped apart.
When I opened my eyes, I had been thrust back in time to the day of our Mating Ceremony.
Staring at the white gown that symbolized nothing but my submission, I slapped a thirty-million-dollar price tag on my "fated mate" and sold him right to my sister.
Using a pureblood glamour, I sent her to the altar in my place. Then I hopped on my motorcycle and rode straight into forbidden territory—right into the arms of the ruthless, unhinged "Mad Wolf" Alpha. He didn't want an obedient pet; he wanted a lethal queen to rule the wild by his side.
That night, when my arrogant ex sealed the irreversible mate bond, lifted the bridal veil, and realized the woman eternally bound to his soul wasn't me...
The icy, untouchable Alpha who spent a lifetime trying to break me completely lost his damn mind.

“Sign the contract. Be my incubator. And I will let you live.”
That was the deal I made with the tyrant named Damon Lexton.
I was his medicine. His prisoner. He did not love me—only the rare blood in my veins that kept him alive. When I died in the fire, he did not mourn his wife. He mourned the loss of his cure.
Five years later, I returned from the dead with a new face and a heart of stone, ready to watch him suffer.
Then my five-year-old son walked into his office.
“Hey, Old Man. Are you the one who made my mom cry?”
Damon stared at the child—the son he once called a bastard. For the first time, the tyrant fell to his knees.
He cornered me against the wall, his eyes burning with madness and obsession.
“You can run, Anna. But you and our son belong to me. I used to need your blood to live. Now I need your heartbeat to breathe.”

In the sixth year of my life as a Scale-Stripper, I finally gathered the hundredth vial of Dragon Breath Essence.

I knelt before the altar, cradling the crystal bottle in both hands. The golden light swirling within it cast a warm glow across my scarred knuckles. Six years — six years of wandering the most dangerous battlefields of the Five Clans and the plague-ridden wastelands, using dragon breath to heal the wounded. For every person I saved, I had peeled away a living scale from my own flesh, baring the raw, bleeding meat beneath.

Seven scales left on my back.

Only seven.

But as long as it saved my brother Lucien, it was worth it.

Six years ago, during the Dragon Slaughter War, our parents had been assassinated by humans. An ancient curse had struck Lucien; his scales were crumbling away, day by day. He told me that only a hundred vials of Dragon Breath Essence could break the curse.

I held the crystal bottle out to him, my voice trembling with barely contained emotion. "Lucien, a hundred vials. We finally have enough."

Lucien took the bottle and glanced at it.

Then he tossed it off the altar without a second thought.

I went rigid.

Lucien stood at the top of the altar.

"I was never cursed," he said.

My hands were still cupped in the shape of holding the bottle, all ten fingers suspended in midair.

"Our parents never died, either."

"The Dragon Slaughter War six years ago, I planned it. The only one left crippled, with broken wings, was you."

During a police operation to pursue a serial killer, my father-in-law was taken hostage by the criminals while protecting me, and was dragged behind a vehicle for several kilometers.
I urgently called my husband for help: “Cedric, Dad has been taken hostage by the criminals. Send more people right away!”
My husband was the police department’s top marksman—only his sharpshooting skills could target the enemy and save his father!
But to my surprise, my husband just sneered, “Dahlia, I’ve only been out with Nalisa for an hour. To win my attention, you’ll make up any lie, won’t you?”
Hearing the call end, I was frozen in shock.
Then, I received a message from Nalisa with 99 bed photos of her and my husband.
“Cedric says, if your dad dies, so be it. He has no time for you now—he’d rather die in my arms.”
Anger and sorrow enveloped me. Watching my husband’s father crushed to death by the vehicle, I finally understood:
He must have thought it was my father who was taken hostage.

"Turn on the livestream, let everyone see how wet and slutty my wife's pussy gets when she's ruined." My husband sneered, ruthlessly spreading my trembling legs on the tattoo bed.

I sobbed and thrashed, but his strong hands pinned my wrists. The buzzing needle pierced the sensitive flesh of my private area, vibrating against my clitoris as he forced a succubus mark onto me. I let out a sharp, pathetic moan, my body involuntarily slicking with a mix of blood and arousal under the agonizing pain.

By the time the needle carved the eighteenth humiliating word into my bare, heaving breasts, my mind was completely broken. He just wiped the blood from my nipples and left to fuck his pregnant mistress.

He thought I was just a toy. At his wedding banquet, he threw me to a pack of hungry men. "Do whatever you want with her holes. Even if it's a gangbang, I take no responsibility." Disgusting hands immediately groped my bare thighs, brutally ripping my dress apart to expose my tattooed chest. Rough fingers pinched my nipples and shoved into my dripping core, making me scream in despair.

But I didn't die there. I tanked his company and fell into the arms of his biggest rival.

When my ex-husband finally realized the mistress's baby wasn't his, he called me, sobbing and begging. I just pressed the phone to my ear, gasping loudly as Tristan's thick, hard cock thrust deep into my tight, wet pussy.

"Ah... fuck, Tristan, deeper..." I moaned shamelessly into the receiver, hearing my ex-husband's breathless silence on the other end. "Henry," I panted, riding my new lover hard, "Your empire is dead, and so are we."

“Sheridan, Link gave me hope to live this past year. I’m pregnant with his child now. He’s been malnourished since he was a baby. Could you be a little more generous and give him half of your food?”

"To quell the rumors, give him the commander's authority as well! Consider it proof of your tolerance, and that way everyone will accept our family of three!"

Looking at my fiancée, who was heavily pregnant and had a saintly glow on her face, I felt a wave of nausea wash over me.

Five years of entrusting each other with life and death have resulted in this scene.

Alright, I'll grant your wish.

Without arguing or making a scene, I readily signed the power transfer agreement, removed my epaulets, and walked without looking back into the underground forbidden zone that everyone feared.

There, a crazy witch with a morbid possessiveness toward me is imprisoned.

Sylvia thought that after I relinquished power, I would only be able to kneel in the mud like a stray dog and watch them be affectionate.

But she had no idea that I was the one who had the safety net for her throughout the entire city!

After losing my protection, the system completely crashed within a few days.

That freeloader completely dropped his pretense, not only beating her half to death with domestic violence, but also attempting to invade her private space.

When she crawled to the gate of the restricted area covered in blood, crying and begging me for forgiveness and to save her life.

I was being held in the arms of that aloof witch, watching the pretty boy who had come looking for me:

"The experiment actually spoke, darling..."