The Debt Tales Series by Xavier Neal – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

The Debt Tales Series by Xavier Neal – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com Tue, 16 Jun 2026 12:51:19 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=7.0 http://www.ilovenovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png The Debt Tales Series by Xavier Neal – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com 32 32 Devilish Debt (The Debt Tales #3) Read Online Xavier Neal http://www.ilovenovels.com/devilish-debt-the-debt-tales-3-read-online-xavier-neal Tue, 16 Jun 2026 12:51:19 +0000 https://www.ilovenovels.com/devilish-debt-the-debt-tales-3-read-online-xavier-neal Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Insta-Love Authors: Xavier Neal Series: The Debt Tales Series by Xavier Neal
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Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 69365 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)

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From USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR Xavier Neal comes an all-new MMF, age-gap, dark romance featuring a familiar face from The Hunted Trilogy with a spicy, contemporary fairy tale twist!Once upon a time, they were asked to find treasure.

Little did this trio know, the arrangement they agreed to was going to get a bit more devilish than the original fairy tale…

TROPE CHECK:
Fairytale Retelling
Dark Romance
Possessive Alpha
Ticking Clock
Fling-to-Forever

**This is a STANDALONE dark retelling, MMF reinvention of the Little Mermaid fairy tale intended for ADULT AUDIENCES

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter 1

Zero

Most people dream of dining with royalty.

Me?

I dread it.

Why?

‘Cause unlike the fairy tale shit you read about as a kid or see in movies, they’re not friendly.

They’re fucking ruthless.

And I’d know.

This isn’t the first one I’ve met.

Though, it is the first one to kidnap me.

Maybe this means I’m truly moving up in the food chain.

Or is that down?

Is trapping me big game hunter shit or more of a Cub Scout badge of honor sitch?

Prince Thaddeus Weslington of Hoalkey – an island country slightly smaller than Australia with some of the most beautiful beaches in the world – casually gestures his warm tan, open palm to the empty seat across from him. “Sit.”

Doesn’t seem in my best interest to deny the demand.

Could be because the same asshole who cornered me when I stepped out of my penthouse elevator to zip tie my hands, cover my head with a black bag, and throw me into what I imagine was the trunk of an SUV is giving off do it or die vibes.

Don’t care for those.

A lot like I don’t care for being here.

I may not be a pack animal – like at all – but I’d rather be in a pack right now than one on one with a hungry fucking predator that’s sizing up my lissome frame like I’m the next piece of meat he’s gonna slobber over.

He doesn’t wait for me to slink into the cream-colored plush seat to continue speaking, his English-like accent simultaneously sexy and scary, “You are quite a difficult man to locate, Mr. Fiorenzo.” The forkful of bloody steak soars towards his thin lips. “Even for me.”

“Apparently not difficult enough,” I mumble under my breath prior to glancing over my zebra striped shirt covered shoulder to further drink in the white tablecloth filled dining space that’s currently only occupied by him and his security team.

There’s one of me, and six of them.

Lurking.

Circling.

Like African wild dogs just waiting for me to run so they can chase.

Outpace.

Exhaust and eventually devour me.

Yeah, that’s not exactly the type of devouring I had in mind for my Wednesday night.

I was hoping to do a little non-gender specific feeding.

Particularly in the bathroom of my favorite club, The Kastle.

“Oh, do not pout, Fiorenzo,” insists the rectangular head shaped male, redirecting my attention to his smirking. “We have sources in similar circles.”

That’s not nearly as fucking comforting as he thinks it is.

Leaning defeatedly back into the chair occurs at the same time I grump, “Why am I here, Weslington?”

“Please,” he feigns politeness, “call me Thaddeus.”

“I’d rather call an Uber.”

Another smug smile is attached to a small fork waggle. “I was warned you had quite a sense of humor.”

“At least you were warned of something.” Folding my light sand toned fingers together occurs on my own phony grin. “Can’t say the same.”

Seriously.

I had no fucking clue this asshole wanted to see me.

Or even knew who the fuck I was.

Yeah, my reputation precedes me and shit, but like…you wanna talk?

Try texting me, my guy.

Thaddeus stabs another hunk of meat on his plate and announces, “I have a job for you.”

“I’m not looking for work.”

“Pardon,” haughtily chuckles the prince as he meets my gaze, “let me rephrase, Fiorenzo.” The expression instantly shifts to one that’s arctic cold. “You are going to do a job for me.”

See.

This is the shit I’m talking about.

The shit Disney doesn’t show unless you’re the “villain”.

Which all of those so-called princes really are.

Check ‘em out in the original formats.

They’re cruel, horny monsters.

Full stop.

End of Snap.

Cut the Tok.

Post stealing an annoyed glance out of the floor to ceiling windows currently showcasing Spike Village’s downtown skyline, I less than happily huff. “And why’s that?”

“Because you owe me debt.”

“I don’t owe you shit.”

“I would beg to differ.”

“You can beg, borrow, or barter, my guy, but it doesn’t change shit.”

“You hacked into my country’s national criminal database through a backdoor you installed – via an Interpol program – to extract sensitive information for a client of yours who then proceeded to use said information during what had become quite a hostile negotiation.”

Yeah.

That was me.

I was young and dumb and did sloppy shit like any other fifteen-year-old.

But I’m not gonna cop to it.

Besides, that was over a decade ago.

Eleven years to be exact.

Whatever “charges” he wants to try to bring me in on – assuming he could even fucking prove them – are past their statute of limitations in this country.

And I know that for a fact.

Beni’ of having an attorney in your back pocket even if you really wish you had him in your front.

Or on your front.

Or on his knees.

Or you on yours.

Again.

Not picky.

I would hit save on any and all of those.

“Hacking is most certainly an illegal offense, Fiorenzo.”

“Debatable.”

“Keeping your name from being brought up in certain circles is a feat worthy of payment.”

“Overkill.”

“You only believe that because you are convinced that holding you accountable for the aforementioned cybercrime is impossible due to it being past its prosecution date.” He prepares to slide the bite into his mouth. “Am I correct in my assumption?”

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Twisted Debt (The Debt Tales #1) Read Online Xavier Neal http://www.ilovenovels.com/twisted-debt-the-debt-tales-1-read-online-xavier-neal Sun, 09 Oct 2022 12:20:34 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/twisted-debt-the-debt-tales-1-read-online-xavier-neal Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic, Insta-Love Authors: Xavier Neal Series: The Debt Tales Series by Xavier Neal
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Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 35494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 142(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)

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Once upon a time, she was asked to let down her hair.
Little did this princess know, the arrangement she agreed to was going to get a bit more twisted than the original fairy tale…

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Playlist Selects

Here are five songs from “Twisted Debt” playlist!

Feel free to follow the playlist on Spotify to find more songs I felt related to the book.

1. energy – Tyla Jane (Pop)

2. Between the Sheets – The Isley Brothers (Soul/Funk)

3. Fatal – J. Holiday (R&B)

4. The (Shipped) Gold Standard – Fall Out Boy (Rock)

5. this is what falling in love feels like – JVKE (Pop)

More songs: https://spoti.fi/3Qb4iCN

Chapter One

Elias

“You owe me a debt, Mr. Pierson.” I smooth the wrinkle out of my red tie with my right hand. “And I’m in need of a new toy.” Finally redirecting my gaze to the cowering individual on the opposite side of my desk, I remind him of the major details. “It’s only three months. She’ll be wined, dined, and want for nothing.” An arrogant smirk slithers onto my face. “Take the deal.”

Gareth Pierson, a lower-level employee who came to me in desperation of money, pleads with his large eyes as well as his gruff tone, “Please, Mr. Whittington. There has to be another way. Something else. Anything else.”

“The three-hundred thousand dollars you swore you’d return to me.”

“But-”

“The same three-hundred thousand dollars you used to help cover your wife’s medical bills.”

“But-”

“That would also be the same three-hundred thousand dollars you skimmed ten thousand from to pay off loan sharks from a gambling debt, correct?”

“How did you-”

“I don’t have time for this, Mr. Pierson. I have a call with my Paris team that I do not plan on being late for.” My head tips to the unsigned stack of papers. “Have your daughter sign it and report to my penthouse tomorrow afternoon at four o’clock.” The office phone in the left-hand corner of my desk begins to buzz, indicating my secretary is requesting my attention. “Address is located on the last page at the bottom.”

Gareth presses his lips firmly together, nods his compliance while grabbing the contract, and begrudgingly begins to exit.

If you ask me, he’s pouting for nothing.

I’m not asking for his fucking kidney.

Just his daughter.

Chapter Two

Zel

Dad: Wear your best dress.

I didn’t put too much stock into the text when he’d sent it earlier this afternoon. I just went back to scrubbing the toilets at my current cleaning assignment. Pissy ass toilets where the homeowners’ twin seven-year-olds liked to play a sick game where they “rain fire” on an “enemy fortress”. You got it. Said enemy fortress is the toilet bowl, the back wall, and the damn floor.

However, now that I’m using the hand of a suit-clad driver to climb out of the backseat of an all-black SUV, the text pops into my mind again.

More urgently than it had before.

Why exactly did I need my best dress instead of just a nice one?

“Dad, we can’t afford all of this,” I murmur as my father saunters around from the opposite side in his best tuxedo – something I’ve only seen him wear twice in all my life.

“Enough, princess.”

My eyes flicker up the all-glass, dominating skyscraper of a building that looks more like a place for living rather than a place for eating. “First, there was the Luxury Uber-”

“Ma’am, this isn’t-” the driver’s sentence stops short when my father clears his throat and steps directly in front of me so that we’re face to face.

“And now, this ritzy place for dinner? What’s going on? Are you trying to break bad news to me? Is it Mom’s condition? Did Tomas go back to jail again?”

“Zel,” his ivory-colored fingers tuck a few tresses behind my ear. “Let me ask you something.”

“Okay.”

“How many young ladies your age put themselves through college, while working a full-time job, huh?”

The custodial assignments that I have aren’t necessarily a full-time job, although in the summer months, I can pile on extra work.

And I do.

College is so fucking expensive.

“Um…,” my honey-colored finger absentmindedly twists around a chestnut strand of hair, “probably more than you’re thinking.”

“Oh. yeah? Do they do it on top of visiting their mothers at the full-service care facility every day?”

He has a point, but it’s not the point.

I’m one second away from saying “you can’t afford this” yet find myself unable to finish the sentence since I’m still not entirely sure what this is. We’re nowhere near the bottom of the bucket like Sammy’s Shrimp Shack, yet we’re way above our occasional splurging at Red Lobster.

Dad bends his arm for me to take, light brown eyes we share the same shade of, shimmering with a hint of secrecy.

I loop my arm though his at the same time I ask, “There’s a restaurant inside?”

“Sort of.”

“Sort of? What do you mean sort of?”

“I made a bet…”

My head drops, and I shuffle back a few paces away from the glass door we were headed towards. “No…” The black high heels that I gifted myself for my high school graduation scrape unforgivingly across the pavement. “No. No. No, Dad!” I snap my stare back up to his and whine, “You promised mom no more horseraces or cock fights or Texas Hold ‘Em tournaments-”

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Savage Debt (The Debt Tales #2) Read Online Xavier Neal http://www.ilovenovels.com/savage-debt-the-debt-tales-2-read-online-xavier-neal Sun, 09 Oct 2022 12:20:33 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/savage-debt-the-debt-tales-2-read-online-xavier-neal Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic, Insta-Love Authors: Xavier Neal Series: The Debt Tales Series by Xavier Neal
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Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 23250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 116(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)

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Once upon a time, she was asked to put on a slipper.
Little did this princess know, the arrangement she agreed to was going to get a bit more savage than the original fairytale…
*This was originally featured in the Savage Bloodline Anthology but now includes a BONUS EPILOGUE!

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Playlist Selects

Here are five songs from “Savage Debt” playlist!

Feel free to follow the playlist on Spotify to find more songs I felt related to the book.

1. Mad at Disney – salem ilese (Pop)

2. Nothing Good – Goody Grace, G-Eazy, Juicy J (Hip-Hop)

3. I Don’t Wanna Lose You – Tina Turner (R&B)

4. Steal My Love – Dan + Shay (Country)

5. Soldier - Eminem (Rap)

More songs: https://spoti.fi/3bu3Obt

Chapter One

Nero

“The shoe fits, you live.” I gesture towards the red bottom heel directly in front of the attractive, brown-skinned female glaring at me from the other side of my desk. “And if it doesn’t, you die.”

“You wouldn’t kill an innocent woman.” Her chin kicks upward in defiance, then a sly grin glows across her face. “Aren’t you a little worried about getting blood on that suit, pretty boy? You’re bluffing.”

“Am I?” My attention cuts to where the men are holding one of her useless stepbrothers in place. Without hesitation, I unholster my weapon and fire a round into the center of his foot. Sharp screams of agony echo around the basement office I’m currently occupying as red gushes into the hardwood floors.

She girlishly squeaks, “Ohmygod!”

“Shut him up,” I carelessly command to the individuals responsible for controlling his flailing body. They shove a random rag in his mouth at the same time I grumble, “Be grateful it was in the foot, Drew. The headache you, your brother, your father, and now your beautiful stepsister have caused me are worthy of a bullet to the brain.” Lazily rolling my attention back to the aforementioned female is followed by me presenting her with a charismatic grin. “You were saying?”

Her cracked jaw moves yet not a single sound escapes.

“Look, Elle, I understand this isn’t an ideal marriage proposal – for either of us, actually.” I rest my weapon-wielding hand on the desk, prepared to use it again when necessary. “I never planned to get married. I don’t see the point. It’s an unnecessary business transaction. And had the don of my family not died and left these fucking loopholes for me to jump through in order to receive the large sum of inheritance I need in order to fix some mistakes that aren’t my own, it wouldn’t be one I even entertain. And you…Well, you probably had fairytale-like scenarios in your head of a knight in shining armor, properly asking for your hand after weeks or years of wining and dining and underperforming during sixty-nining, with a mediocre diamond that he’ll be paying off for the next six to ten years. But, thanks to your idiot of a stepfather – Edwin – fucking up a string of construction deals I now have to correct and your even dumber twin stepbrothers – Drew and Adam – getting overzealous during some collections they had no business trying to conduct at their level in the organization, you’re now in a position to either marry me for six months leaving the forced arrangement with a large lump of cash and more importantly, your life, or continue to deny me and get what remains of your entire family slaughtered…in front of you before meeting the same fate.”

Disbelief deepens in her expression pulling an exhausted sigh from me.

“You’re absolutely right,” I nonchalantly state. “You are the innocent in this situation, and honestly? I don’t wanna kill you. I want you to pick up the shoe, have it be a perfect fit, and whisk you away to my beach home for the next few months where I show you a life you’ve never known. Why? Because it would mean my search is over, plus, I think you’re the sexiest fucking thing I’ve seen in a long time.”

The faintest shade of red cloaks her high cheekbones.

She truly is.

Smooth, creamy, coffee-shaded skin that makes my mouth water like that first cup in the morning. Long legs that would look even better in the dresses I have planned for the woman who helps me fulfill this obligation on such a short notice. Oh, and those feet. Those delicious, delicate little creatures that have been wiggling nonstop in her sandals, calling to my cock to slip underneath them to enjoy the continuous caresses instead of her shoes.

Fuck, I hope the damn heel fits.

“You’ve been dealt a shit hand.” Lifting the weapon once more, I angle it the direction of her stepfather who is sitting in the seat beside her. “But all of that could change very quickly if you just put on the shoe.”

“Please, Elle,” Edwin pleads, fear dripping from his voice. “Please, put on the shoe.”

She turns her face towards the redheaded man her poor mother decided to marry at some point in her childhood from my understanding. Too bad this asshole bled that poor woman dry, got them all into debt it would take lifetimes to get out of, and is now responsible for my financial burden that I will fix the instant the inheritance is mine.

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