8270 Book(s) Related to kiss me on the veranda

Isabella Cortez, an interior designer and an extremely spoiled heir Of CF Inc., who always got whatever she wanted, finally got married to the city's most eligible bachelor and Billionaire who also didn't hesitate to spoil her.
Even though it didn't start as a love marriage, life was great between the couple. But when her husband was involved in a plane crash and lost four years of his memories, Isabella's perfect world was turned upside down.
Unfortunately for her, the only memory Kristen remembers was with Iris, his ex-girlfriend he broke up with four years ago while the memory he shared with Isabella has completely disappeared.
Can she help her husband remember who he is and what they had together? Or is she going to lose him forever?

"You were just a tool, Imogene."
Her heart stopped. "And I was foolish enough to believe you cared."
Imogene Scott had always known her place—by Damien Shaw’s side, even when his love was a distant dream. Marrying her only because of an unexpected pregnancy, Damien’s affection never blossomed. Instead, her devotion turned him from a mere sales manager into the billionaire CEO of IMU, one of Europe’s most powerful tech empires. But her sacrifices weren’t enough. After losing their baby, Damien’s coldness deepened, sealing their marriage with an unspoken “no meddling” rule.
Imogene’s reward? Watching Damien parade countless mistresses, all while she buried her own dreams to fuel his. She believed, naively, that one day he’d see her worth. But when he fell in love with her stepsister and served her with divorce papers, Imogene’s world shattered. Realizing she was nothing more than a pawn in Damien’s game, she vanished—pregnant and determined to protect her unborn child.
Three years later, Imogene returns, not as the broken woman who fled but as a renowned artist and mother to their two-year-old daughter. Now, Damien realizes what he’s lost and wants her back. But this time, Imogene is ready to fight, and she’s not making the same mistake twice.

My family let me die. My fiancé watched. My sister smiled.
I was the real daughter, dragged from the orphanage to donate my bone marrow, then thrown away like garbage. When the monsters came for the imposter, they shielded her and left me to rot.
But death wasn’t the end. It was a deal.
I woke with a system tethered to my pulse—one that trades public admiration for the power to survive.​ And behind these hands are two identities they never suspected: the legend whose music they worship, and the ghost in the machine who owns their secrets.
They think I’m back to beg for love.
They’re wrong. I’m here to collect.
This time, I won’t just take back my music and my name. I’ll make them need me—right before I watch them lose everything.
They wanted me erased.
I’m about to become the only name that matters.

"You can’t do this to me. I won’t let you," Cecilia stammered.

"I can do whatever I want with you,” Jonathon said with a smirk, “You belong to me and only me. You have no choice but to submit to my desires."

He tossed the table out of his way before pinning her to the wall.

Jonathon huskily whispered into Cecilia’s ear as he hiked up her dress, "And when you do, you're going to love every moment of it."
Jonathon is a strong-minded, calculating, fierce warrior for the Vampire Lord that ruled over the city.

Cecilia is a smart and strong-willed woman. Nothing like a human pet is supposed to be.

An accident makes them meet, what will happen between Cecilia and Jonathon?

Can Cecilia escape this vampire world? Or can she only succumb to Jonathon's desires?

Read to find out.

Warning: Contains strong language, smuts, abuse and some really explicit content, please read at your risk. "Let go of me…" Arabella said. She grimaced, shaking her head. "Do you think I would let you go so easily?" He questioned, then tutted. Sandro's nostrils flared as he sniffed her hair wrapped in his hands, Vanilla and Strawberry. The innocent yet naughty scent he remembered her with. "That would never happen, Cara Mia." Arabella gasped as Sandro pressed his body into hers. She moved to shove him away but he grasped her hands and pinned them above her head before pointing the gun at her temple. Arabella shut her eyes tightly as the gun cocked. She inhaled and bit her tongue whilst saying her last prayer inwardly. She wanted to run far away from him. Away from the surface of the earth if possible. But she was certain no matter how far she went, he was going to find her. ------------------------------------- Arabella's life took a u-turn after falling into her enemy's hand. She should feel nothing for him, however. He made her lose all her senses, even her clothes. At the mercy of her foe, she discovers some secrets about him and wishes to unravel more, but got what she didn't bargain for. Alessandro, an Alpha werewolf assuming the identity of a mafia Lord. He was the most wanted criminal in COOAN, and his name incites fear in all werewolves' packs. He was a man fighting his demons and needs a saviour before he drowns. After a traumatic childhood event that left him scarred, Blaze often kept to himself and trusted no one until he met Arabella, whom he believed was the perfect mate sent to him by the moon's goddess. However, she was taken. The powerful urge to save her from her...

Alpha Blake exterminated her pack. She was taken to the Ralton pack as a trophy and punching bag.
Upon shifting, she finds that his son is her mate.
He rejected her because she was a weak rubbish- an Omega!
Heartbroken, she left the pack and was hunted by the Alpha's son who shot her.
But she didn't die, nor did she reject him.
Years later, a kick-ass female whom every Alpha wants as Luna, returns to the Ralton pack. Her aim? To crush the pack and make the Alpha bow!
Pretty cool right?

Add to your libraries. More updates are coming soon. Lest I forget, accept my kisses! :)

Clare Voss has spent five years loving her stepbrother Zane in silence, cooking his breakfast, cheering at every match, and dreaming of the day he would finally see her.

But on his birthday, everything falls apart when his girlfriend exposes Clare's most humiliating secret in front of the entire team.

Just when Clare is ready to disappear, Rhys Calloway, her worst enemy and the team's arrogant captain, pulls her into his arms and tells everyone she is his girlfriend.

She should have pushed him away, but she kissed him back instead.

Now Clare is locked into a two-month fake relationship with the most infuriating man she has ever met, trying to get over a stepbrother who never cared and survive a captain who makes her forget why she was supposed to hate him.

The problem is that Rhys kisses like he means every single second of it, and just when Clare starts to move on, Zane decides he wants her back.

One girl, two hockey players, and a heart that was never supposed to feel this much. Will she choose the stepbrother who broke her or the enemy who caught her when she fell?

Nora Vale was never supposed to be seen.

For three years, she rebuilt hockey captain Callum Pierce after the injury that nearly ended his career. She tracked his tremors, rewrote his recovery protocol, and carried the private marriage his family refused to make public.

Then he won the championship.

Under the arena lights, Callum lifted the cup and thanked Sloane Mercer, the beautiful sports host the cameras already loved. Backstage, Nora watched her own medical system appear under Sloane's name.

That night, Nora left with the evidence and the child Callum never knew existed.

Three years later, Nora is no longer hiding in the tunnel. She is the chief medical consultant for the rival team, the one woman the league needs when old concussion records begin to surface. Callum wants answers. His father wants control. Sloane wants the public story to stay clean.

Nora wants her name back.

But the fight is no longer only about a stolen system. It is about a son whose medical records could shift a franchise, a trust that could break the Pierce family, and a championship myth built on the woman they erased.

Callum thanked the wrong woman on the night he won.

Now the whole league is about to learn who made him a champion.

He hated her, believing she betrayed him and his family. Only to discover that he was the villain all along...

Mila Russetti’s life turned upside down the moment she decided to break the rigid rules of her foster family__the most dangerous Mafia family in the USA__for the first time in her life.

By that single act of rebellion, she payed dearly: she was set up, raped, used as a pawn to break down the Haydens.
Her foster family kicked her out of their lives and sent her overseas treating her as a traitor.

After four years, they showed up again in her life, claiming she owed their dying father a last visit.
She returned to the Hayden's mansion with her three years old son, only to discover that they were trying to cage her again and forcing her into a marriage.

Will she give in to their abuse, especially after she had discovered the shocking truth of the identity of her rapist? And how will she take her revenge on them when she finds out that she's the heiress to a Tycoon mafia empire?

How does her biological mother's shady past affect Mila's present?

Is it true that the only thing that brings dangerous and ruthless Mafia Lords, those who are morally gray to their knees, begging and regretting, are the women they worship?

A juicy and twisted love-hate dynamic, Obsession, toxic attraction story.


When she pressed the knife to her own throat, his mask finally cracked. He hesitated for a second before confessing with guilt, “I know who did it, Mila. I know who raped you that night four years ago. And I assure you, he wasn't one of Hayden's enemies.” He stared toward his two brothers with an accusing look.

TRIGGER WARNING:
The story too dark.

On our wedding day, Declan sent me out to Long Island. We'd been together seven years.

He said he'd left his grandmother's lucky cufflinks at the family house.

But when my car died in the storm, I opened my bridesmaid's Instagram live.

Declan was sliding my custom diamond ring onto Phoebe's finger—my adopted sister, the one with the bad heart.

My own parents were crying in the front row. My bridesmaids were cheering.

They'd turned my wedding into a dying wish ceremony for Phoebe.

Hours later, alone in the ER, I called forty-seven times.

No one picked up.

Not until after I lost the baby and disappeared from Manhattan.

That's when Declan finally came apart.

My downstairs neighbor tagged me in the building group chat at ten p.m.
His wife just had a pup, he said. Pups need moonlight, he said. So starting tonight, my private moon terrace belongs to his family.
He'd even pay me rent. Ten dollars a month.
For the terrace of a three-million-dollar penthouse.
When I said no, he reminded me he wasn't just my neighbor. He's my supervisor at the Calloway Group, and my probation review sits in his hands. Hand over the door code, or I'd never survive at that company.
He kept saying it. I can crush you at the Calloway Group.
Funny.
My mother owns the Calloway Group.
I was going to let him dig his own grave quietly. Then his family broke into my home, walked up to the one thing on that terrace worth half a million dollars—
And smashed it.

The luxury cruise ship in the high seas had become a floating steel coffin for the beautiful CEO and me.
Just a door away, the corridor was teeming with slithering, tentacled Mimics. The wet, crunching sounds of them chewing on raw flesh were enough to make anyone’s scalp go numb.
Inside the pitch-black storage cabin—measuring barely three square meters—the usually aloof and untouchable Ice Queen of the corporate world was so terrified she had her flawless body pressed desperately against my chest.
In this extreme claustrophobia, her scalding body heat generated a fierce friction against me in the face of absolute despair.
"Keep me alive. Everything I have... is yours."

My daughter has been blind since birth. On her eighteenth birthday, she finally received news of a matching cornea donor.
Our whole family was so excited we couldn't sleep that night. My husband and daughter eagerly prepared for the surgery, their hearts filled with hope that she would soon see the light.
But I suddenly slammed my hand on the table and, amidst the family's stunned gazes, proposed a divorce on the spot.
My husband's face turned ashen as he demanded harshly, "You want a divorce just because I'm going through with our daughter's surgery?"
I curled the corner of my mouth and enunciated every word: "That's right. Because you're going through with her surgery—this marriage is over."

I thought I was the woman David couldn’t live without.
For our marriage, I gave up my career to stay in the kitchen, learning to cook all his favorite meals, and I endured every bit of hostility from his family without complaint.
I thought that was what love looked like—quiet devotion, two people growing old together. Until our third wedding anniversary.
During the World Cup final broadcast watched by millions, I saw him in the stadium stands… kissing my younger sister.
By the time I made it home, Lily already had my house key in her hand, standing in my own home like she had every right to be there.
“Don’t you understand?” she whispered with a smile. “You can’t even give him a child. What makes you think you deserve to be his wife?”
David didn’t stop her. He didn’t defend me. He just watched. And let it happen.
What they forgot was simple. That house? It was mine. Not his.

Six years ago, Evelyn White caught her husband Arthur Collins cheating, then left his mansion—pregnant and unseen. Now she’s back as Eve, a top artist, with two genius twins. At her exhibition, the kids yell “Mommy”… and Arthur’s world breaks. He’s obsessed with dragging her (and the kids he never knew) back. She just wants to paint and protect her family. But as their past’s lies unravel, escaping him means fighting for more than just freedom.

I loved Callum Crane for five years. He said I didn't fit. Then he proposed — to my sister.
The same night, his brother called me with the most insane idea I've ever heard: marry him instead. Same day. Same venue. Right across the hall from my ex and my sister's ceremony.
I said yes. Not because I loved Emrys Crane. Because I'd rather set the whole thing on fire than sit in a pew and watch.
Here's the thing about revenge marriages, though. They're supposed to be fake.
Nobody told Emrys.
The man had a wrench set in his truck that only fit my grandmother's machine — bought years before I ever spoke to him. He'd been sneaking looks through my workshop window so often the stone wore down. He fixed my motorcycle three times and never mentioned it. He remembered that I stared at a piece of almond brittle for ten seconds once, and bought it for me weeks later.
Seven years. He'd been in love with me for seven years. Said nothing. Did everything.
And Callum? The man who told me I didn't fit?
He showed up at my orchard with an apology and a folder full of evidence against my sister, begging for a second chance.
I looked him in the eye and said: "Too late. Wrong harvest."
He tried five more times. It only got worse for him.

On my due date, my husband Russell locked me in an underground freezer at minus ten degrees.

The Pembroke family's unbreakable rule: the first-born male inherits the entire mafia empire. My sister-in-law Natasha and I were both pregnant, our due dates only one day apart. To ensure his brother's child was born first, Russell made this insane decision.

"My brother and Natasha's baby has to come first—this is what you owe them!" He ignored my desperate pleas and violent contractions, coldly shoving me into the freezer.

But that wasn't enough. They forcibly injected me with labor-delaying drugs. I curled up in agony on the freezing concrete floor, feeling my baby slowly slipping away, tears of despair streaming down my face.

My baby, Mommy is so sorry...

Once upon a time, there were two kingdoms once at peace. The kingdom of Salem and the kingdom of Mombana.

Until the day, the king of Mombana passed away and a new monarch took over, Prince Cone.

Prince Cone, has always been hungry for more power and more and more.

After his coronation, he attacked Salem.

The attack was so unexpected, Salem never prepared for it. They were caught off guard. The king and Queen was killed, the prince was taken into slavery.

The people of Salem that survived the war was enslaved, their land taken from them. Their women were made sex slaves.

They lost everything, including their land.

Evil befall the land of Salem in form of Prince Cone, and the prince of Salem in his slavery was filled with so much rage.

The prince of Salem, Prince Lucien swore revenge.


Ten years later, thirty-years old Lucien and his people raided a coup and escaped slavery.

It took them five years before they ambushed and attacked Mombana. They killed Prince Cone and reclaimed everything.

As they screamed out their victory, Lucien's eyes found and pinned the proud princess of Mombana. Princess Danika. The daughter of Prince Cone.

As Lucien stared at her with the coldest eyes ever, he felt victory for the first time.

He reached close to the Princess and with a swift movement, he collared her neck.

Then, he tilted her chin up, staring into the bluest eyes and the most beautiful face ever created, he gave her a cold smile.

"You are my acquisition. My slave. My sex slave. My property. I will pay you in spades, everything you and your father ever did to me and my people." He stated curtly.

Pure hatred, coldness and victory was the only emotion on his face.

"In three days, you will attend the Rejection Ceremony,"
"The Alpha needs to have a strong mate by his side to lead the Pack successfully," Lily's father explained, "And that is not you, an Omega."

Lily Bray was the Omega of the Blue Creek Pack, but not just any omega. She was the omega illegitimate daughter of the Alpha. Her life was worse when she was forced to reject her mate, the Alpha to be to the Grey Blood Pack, and be mated to his disfigured, ruthless reject brother.
Garrett Hunter, the second-born son of the Alpha of the Grey Blood Pack, is a disfigured outcast with a reputation for being ruthless. Much to his surprise, Lily is his long-awaited mate, and he is Lily’s second chance mate.
What will happen when the two broken souls meet?
Will Lily recover from the trauma of breaking her mating bond? Will she accept Garrett as her mate?

Read to find out.

"Do you know what smells better than fear?" His voice was a replica of the male. Deep, dark, and dangerous.

"What...?" She squeaked, terrified. He was standing so close to her...

"Lùst. Desire." He spat the words like they tasted bad, his eyes cold, his face inscrutable. "The scent of your wetness is driving me insane. I can practically taste your hunger for my cóck."

Then, he shocked them both—hell, even the poor equipment in her bathroom.

With a savage growl, his head lowered completely and his mouth crashed down to hers.
..
.
.************

There are rumors...
Whispers around in secret.
Murmurs in pitch darkness. Of the most powerful 'man' in Naturiah.

The most fearsome creature. The fiercest predator Naturiah ever has. A man who is the 'impossible'.

Rumors has it that his powers and strength not only surpass that of all 'men' but there's are nothing compared to his.

He is their Alpha.
Most species has an Alpha, but this 'man' is the Alpha of all Alphas. The ultimate Alpha.
The Alpha King.
They think him god.
He is respected like one.
He is feared like one.
They call him god.

Because, he is a crossbreed between the two most powerful creatures.
He has the strength of a mountain lion and the power of a werewolf.
He can take the form of a mountain lion or a werewolf. Or a man.
Why?
Because, he is a werewolf AND a mountain lion.

His name is Wolfariane Daminor Throne.
The Alpha King of Naturiah.
.

At the Moonshadow Council, my fiancé knelt before the throne with his new lover and asked permission to marry her—while keeping me as his nameless second mate.

He mocked me for having no parents and no family, claiming that if I left the Silver Fir Pack, I would not even have a place to sleep.

I removed my engagement ring and looked toward the throne. No one knew that the Lycan King seated above us was my own brother—the brother who had entered this world with me.

And my brother had already set down his goblet.

“Are you certain you want to treat her this way?”

Three torturous years hauling bodies on the mortuary night shift, and I'd finally scraped together the cash for my brother Charles's heart transplant.
He just waved it off.
"My heart is fine. Mom and Dad didn't die in that gang war, either. I orchestrated the hit. You were the only casualty."
Nearby, my husband, Gerald, casually lit a cigar to deliver his own confession. "I never went bankrupt. 'Laying low' was just my excuse to avoid squeezing into that dingy funeral home dorm with you. I've been at the Long Island estate."
"I was going to punish you for another three years," Charles added, "but the stench of formaldehyde on you is nauseating. We couldn't take it anymore."
I froze, still clutching the credit card. Charles plucked the plastic from my numb fingers and shoved his phone screen in my face. A banking app stared back at me.
Balance: exactly zero.
"My name is still on the joint account," he sneered, tossing the card into the trash. "I drained it this morning. That blood money you made bagging stiffs is being handed out to street junkies as we speak. We'd never touch that filth."
Before the sheer absurdity of it could suffocate me, my parents walked in. Flanked by bodyguards, they kept their distance, eyeing me like a plague rat.
"You thought being the biological daughter gave you the right to ruthlessly bully Violet. We simply wanted to put you in your place."
"Swear you'll never cross Violet again, and you can remain a Falcone," my mother added coolly. "Otherwise, you're dead to us."
In the stifling silence that followed, my phone buzzed. A text from my oncologist.
[Mrs. Castello, the results are back. It's terminal. Do you consent to initiating the hospice and DNR protocols we discussed?]

In a sleek design world split between polished appearances and buried cruelty, Mara Ellison has spent years trapped behind a voice no one wanted to hear. While her family rewrites her illness and her fiancé speaks over her in the name of love, stolen records, public humiliation, and old betrayals force her to reclaim her life. Quiet but cutting, this is a story of emotional abuse, identity theft, and hard-won selfhood—framed by rain-soaked streets, hospital corridors, cold glass conference rooms, and a woman finally stepping into the light with her own voice.

The day college decisions came out, my parents bought my twin sister a Porsche.
It was my eighteenth birthday too. Nobody brought it up. I stood in the doorway in my diner uniform while the whole room sang her name.
That night the four of them went out to dinner to celebrate her. The car only sat four, so my father handed me a hundred dollars and told me to order myself something at home.
Four days later, six thousand four hundred dollars vanished from my account. Two years of washing dishes, gone to her sorority dues. My mother's name was on the account, so it wasn't even illegal.
I didn't scream and I didn't beg. I went upstairs and clicked Accept on the full ride to MIT that had been sitting in my inbox for three days.
Nobody in that house ever wanted me. So I booked a one-way ticket, cut myself out of the family photo, and left my key on the shoe rack.
I wasn't coming back. Not for graduation. Not for any of them.

“Dad… please… help me…” I pleaded, my shattered ribs piercing my lungs, blood soaking the stretcher.
But Richard, the hospital's top surgeon and my biological father, didn't even glance at me. Instead, he rushed to the next bed.
“Don't be afraid, Chloe. I'm here,” he cooed to his stepdaughter, who merely had a tiny scratch on her arm. “Get the best equipment over here now!” he roared.
As the heart monitor flatlined and my soul left my broken body, I realized the chilling truth: in the choice between life and death, my father gladly let me die.

I once believed that if I was obedient enough, my birth family would finally love me. Instead, they gave everything to Anna, the fake heiress—my competition spot, my reputation, even my kidney.
Then I opened my eyes and returned to the year it all began.
This time, I won’t beg. I won’t yield. My achievements, my dignity, and my life belong to me.
When everyone called me vicious, Damian Sterling draped his jacket over my shoulders and asked in a low voice, “Am I an outsider?”
I leaned into him and smiled. “Of course not.”
But soon I discovered he was being slowly poisoned—and the culprit might be someone closest to him. Worse, the truth behind my death in my previous life may be darker than I ever imagined…

1

The day he proposed, Atticus knelt before me, holding the Hale family's heirloom necklace.
I thought I had finally survived the ordeal.
After eight years of unrequited love, being humiliated by his sister, nitpicked by his mother, and mocked by the city's socialites for being unworthy of the Hales... Until this very moment, when he personally fastened the heirloom around my neck. Everyone saw it. I, Clara, was finally accepted by the Hale family.
Tears in my eyes, I said yes, thinking it was the happiest moment of my life.
But just days after putting on that necklace, bizarre red rashes crawled up my neck. My pale skin rotted away piece by piece, and my internal organs went into irreversible failure.
The most absurd part? The exact same day I started rotting, his dying mother miraculously cured her terminal illness, and his sister's half-destroyed face was restored to flawless perfection.
Disfigured and barely looking human, I threw myself off the Harbour Bridge—
I opened my eyes, and I was back on the day of the proposal.

Five years into living with my stepbrother Gideon, the scholarship girl he sponsored moved into our house.
To repay his "generosity," she made a habit of slipping into his bed at night. By day, she took it upon herself to "fix" my antisocial, withdrawn personality.
Three days before St. George Prep's graduation ceremony, she brought me a glass of juice wearing that nauseating sugar-sweet smile.
"You know, Charlotte, your peanut allergy is probably psychosomatic. You just need some exposure therapy. Let me help you get over it."
That night, my throat closed completely. She'd deliberately laced my drink with concentrated peanut extract.
I convulsed on the cold hardwood floor, vision tunneling as oxygen fled my lungs.
In the last second before darkness swallowed me whole, I clawed desperately toward the half-open door.
Standing in the hallway were my boyfriend Dylan and my stepbrother Gideon.
They simply watched me suffocate. Then Gideon calmly reached out and shut the door.
I died from anaphylactic shock.
Three months later, as a ghost tethered to this world, I watched her stride onto Stanford's campus. Wearing my clothes. Carrying my acceptance letter. Burning through my trust fund.
Through the crowd, I saw Gideon—my ice-cold, unreachable stepbrother—gently cradle her face and press his lips to hers.
Then I gasped awake.
I was back. Three days before graduation.

I used to be the most envied female on the continent. Three mates: werewolf Alpha Kael, vampire lord Dorian, elven ranger Seth. All of them mine.
Then a half-elf drifter named Ayla showed up, and everything I had started belonging to her instead, one piece at a time.
Kael once pulled a fang from his own mouth to make me a necklace. The day it broke, he was too busy licking another female's cut finger to notice.
Dorian spent two weeks brewing me blood wine. Then he handed the cup straight to her, because apparently I "looked healthy enough to go without."
Seth carved me a charm from sacred elven wood. I watched her face take shape under his knife instead of mine.
They kept telling me I needed to grow up. So when a beast's poison was spreading through my body, and I blew the whistle they swore would bring them running no matter what—
No one came.
Three years later, I walked back into their world on a Siren prince's arm.
This time, they're the ones begging for my forgiveness.

It was my second year back in this house.
My name was Evelyn, the biological daughter who got lost in Central Park at seven.
During the ten years I stayed missing, I fed pigs on a remote farm in Eastern Europe. In weather that dropped to dozens below zero, I got beaten for working too slowly.
I did not get brought back until I was seventeen, covered in scars, returned to this so-called “home,” luxurious to the point of being blinding.
To be honest, every time I watched them sit on silk sofas and sip afternoon tea, then thought about the decade I spent crawling through hell, hatred made my teeth ache.
That hatred stood between us and made the house feel like an icebox. We lived under the same roof, yet we were not even as close as strangers.

My stepsister and I tumbled down the stairs together. As someone with a blood clotting disorder, my spleen ruptured—I was bleeding internally, desperate for surgery to stop it.
But my mother—the renowned chief of surgery—pulled every specialist from the ER. To consult on my stepsister's condition.
All she had was a sprained ankle. Not even a scratch. Yet mom insisted on running every test in the book. And me? Left alone on that cold floor, bleeding out, half my body already soaked in blood.
I clutched at her pants, begging her to save me. But she kicked my hand away and looked at me with pure disgust.
"Lily, are you really so desperate for a man's attention that you'd pull a cheap stunt like this? Your sister's foot is swollen—and you have the nerve to fake your death here?"
In the end, I died alone in a corner of that ignored ER.
But when they wheeled my cold body out of the morgue—and they finally learned about my clotting disorder—
That mother who claimed to hate me completely lost her mind.

James Johnson bought me from the black market for five million.
I went from being a mercenary to his bodyguard, and also his plaything to satisfy his desires.
Countless intimate nights gradually changed the nature of our relationship.
Until he risked his life to save me during a gang shootout.
His restrained feelings finally broke free, and he proposed to me.
But today, five years later.
Right after James took control of the Johnson Family, he quickly got engaged to Julia, the daughter of the Smith Family, the biggest arms dealer.
I confronted him, only to overhear his conversation with a friend.
"I told Sophia I'd marry her just to make her give everything for me, even die for me. After all, those brothers fighting me for the inheritance are all crazy."
His friend laughed. "But she's risked her life for you for six years. That's pretty cold."
"Doesn't matter. With her background, she was never fit to be a mafia heir's wife anyway."
I stood outside the door and let out a bitter laugh.
Back in my room, I contacted Marshall Johnson.
"I promised to keep James safe until he became head of the Johnson Family. The mission's complete now. Please give me my freedom as agreed."

My boyfriend entered our village shrine to ask for a blessing before our wedding.

Ten minutes later, he came out, wrapped his hands around my throat, and promised my father he would kill me himself.

He wasn't the first.

Every man who offered to take me away went into that shrine and came back disgusted, violent, or both.

My father called it a curse. Then he beat me for bringing it upon myself.

When my grandmother saw my bruises, she came with my uncles to take me home.

I thought she was the one person my father could never turn against me.

Then my uncles entered the shrine.

First day back after the long weekend. I get a few artisan gift baskets shipped in from my family's farm: maple syrup, raw honey, smoked beef jerky, handmade jams. Top-shelf stuff, every single one. Shipping alone runs me a few hundred dollars.

After the morning meeting, I hand them out one by one. The team crowds around me, all smiles, falling over themselves saying things like "You're literally the best, Ms. Bennett" and "Oh my god, you're such an amazing boss."

They're barely out the door when I notice the conference room projector is still mirroring someone's phone. Up on the screen: a private group chat. Fifteen members.

Everyone on the team is in it.

Everyone except me.

A new message pops up: [Farm junk? Really? Preston Vance's team got $200 gift cards AND black truffle. Sloane's such a cheap ass lol]

Replies flood in. Someone photoshops a picture of me. Someone else hopes I drop dead at my desk.

To them, I'm just another boss squeezing her people dry.

Last quarter, I handed every single one of them a three-thousand-dollar cash bonus out of my own pocket. Plus a brand-new phone. Each.

Fine. If they think I'm not giving enough, I'll give them exactly what they're asking for.

Though later, when they come crawling back one by one, I find myself wondering what exactly they think begging is going to get them.

Ten years ago, on the day my family was destroyed, Ezra Ashford promised to marry me.
Ten years passed. He refused to honor that promise, and he refused to mark me. The feral instincts in my blood were growing wilder by the day, pushing me to the brink of madness—yet he turned around, announced his engagement to Ophelia, the beloved daughter of the Silvermane Pack, and casually sold me off to Rhysand, a scarred, half-burned monster who cleaned corpses for a living.
On his wedding night, Ezra actually abandoned Ophelia, kicking down my door in his tailored tuxedo.
Only to freeze in his tracks.
I sat naked on the edge of the bed. Rhysand, the supposedly lowly corpse cleaner, had me wrapped in his arms. The bite mark on the back of my neck was still bleeding.

Betrayed to death by my own brother, I was reborn before the apocalypse descended.
He rushed to seize the god-tier [Copy] talent first, leaving the trash [Purification] talent for me.
He thought that with this talent, he'd have no worries and reign supreme in the apocalypse.
Meanwhile, I quietly closed the last door of my fortress.
He didn't know that his prized copying ability had a fatal flaw.

“You’re dripping,” he groaned. “You hear that? You’re making a mess all over me.”


He's the school's willful billionaire bad boy— hot, tall, handsome who made her fall and loosen herself for him just to find out it was all a lie.

A bet.

Well, two can dance a tango, right?

A comeback is all she needs. One that would make the so-called dangerous bad boy fall to his knees.

It wasn't just a game to him.

What if there's something more…

A facade he's hiding behind?

WARNING: Contains strong vulgar languages, sexual scenes, erotic contents, triggering situations, and lots more.

Everything she believed in was a lie.
Keira and Alden were Chosen Mates who built the powerful Stormfang Pack together—until she discovered their Mate Bond was a witch's illusion, and the child she raised was actually his with his true Fated Mate, the Omega Rena.
Broken and ready to leave, a secret letter reveals she is the long-lost daughter of Mooncrest Pack's Alpha, the sole heir to a legacy she never knew.
As her dormant Alpha blood awakens in rage, she vows to reclaim her birthright.
But when Kaelan, the cold and calculating Alpha King, approaches her and claims, "You are my Fated Mate," Keira is thrown into deeper confusion.
Why would he say that? And in a world built on deception, can a bond that begins as strategy ever become real… or is it just another layer of the game?

After being reborn, the first thing my sister and I did was swap our grooms.
In our past life, my gentle sister Elara married Felix Hawthorne, the mafia godfather of Marconi City. Surrounded by a domineering sister-in-law and a scheming, manipulative other woman, she was slowly driven into a corner and died of a broken heart.
Meanwhile, I married the polite, illegitimate son of the Graves family. He was a perfect gentleman, but he just didn't love me. Our marriage lasted three years, and we were separated for two and a half of them.
Then one day, Elara and I woke up at the exact same moment—we had been reborn, back to the very morning we were supposed to sign our marriage agreements...

The car crash six months ago destroyed my body. I survive the agony only through the painkillers prescribed by my brother, Fletcher.
While shopping for my wedding dress, I simply swallowed a pill on schedule. My mother responded with a slap that made me spit blood. My father stormed in and kicked my ribs in without asking a single question.
I fled crying to my brother, only for him to grab me in disgust: "You are a disgrace to this family."
I called my fiancé. He rushed to the scene, took one look at the pill, and called the cops without hesitation: "The engagement is off. She makes me sick."
In just a few hours, I went from a bride-to-be to a death row inmate.
But as the gavel fell, I saw our family maid calmly swallow the exact same pill from the gallery…
I lunged at the railing, screaming at the judge. He leaned down, a chilling smile spreading across his face: "Linnea, this is all because…"

Elena died on the operating table, betrayed by her husband, her unborn child already gone.
But death? Just her intermission.
She woke up in a whole new world—a beastmen's world, where females are rarer than diamonds and the strongest males go mad without a woman's mark to calm them down.
And her?
Labelled the weakest female alive. An F-rank body with a joke of a status.
But hidden inside? Unlimited mental power.
Just as she's figuring out this mess, a system pops up with one hell of an offer:
Complete the missions. Bond with assigned males. Save this world.
Do all that, and you get a one-way ticket back home… for revenge.
Sounds simple? Think again.
A Wolf General, colder than a blizzard, who should have ended her—ended up letting her mark him.
A Fox Prince, all charming smiles and secret schemes, who started playing games only to lose his own heart.
A golden Dragon, sunshine-bright and fiercely possessive, who declares her his destined treasure.
A shadowy Serpent, too patient and too dangerous, watching her every move from the dark.
A Phoenix King, whose love burns so hot he'd reduce empires to cinders for her.
They all need her mark. They all want her.
And sharing? Not in their vocabulary.
Too bad for them—
She's not here for love stories.
She's here to survive.
To climb.
To turn their legendary power into her own stepping stones.
And one day…
To go back and make her betrayers wish they were never born.

"Do you enjoy this? Ignoring me like I don't exist? Do you have any idea how humiliating this feels, waiting for you like some fool?" After three years of a cold, loveless marriage, Selene Henderson finally gathers the courage to walk away from her distant billionaire husband, Sebastian Kingsley.
She's ready to file for divorce... until a tragic accident changes everything. When Sebastian wakes up with no memory of the woman he once pushed away, Selene finds herself trapped in a marriage she was desperate to escape—this time with a man who suddenly looks at her like she's his whole world.
But can love born from broken memories survive the truth of their painful past? Or will the secrets she's been hiding destroy them all over again?
"Are you always this shy around your own husband, wife?" his voice dropped into a low, dangerous growl, his hands anchoring me against the wall.
"We didn't... we didn't use to do this," I gasped, trying to look away from his piercing gaze.
He leaned in, his breath hot against my lips. "Then your body has a better memory than my brain. Because right now, it's telling me you belong exactly right here."

Accidental Pups×Contract Marriage × Multiple Identity × Drama × Vengeance & Betrayal × One-Night Stand × Billionaire/CEO × Brave Heroine × True & Fake Heiress

Warning: This is a slow-burn romance. The love story develops gradually through trust, healing, family, and shared secrets.

“He doesn’t trust anyone.”

“I know.”

“Then why does he trust you?”

I don’t have an answer.

I only know that when I found little Cassian bound and abandoned, I couldn’t walk away. I didn’t know then that he was the son of Alistair Voss—the cold, powerful billionaire who trusted no one.

But Cassian trusted me.

And that changed everything.

When Alistair asks me to stay for his son, I refuse. Until he makes an even more shocking offer: marriage.

What begins as an arranged marriage slowly becomes something neither of us expected. Beneath the same roof, Cassian becomes the family I never knew I needed, while Alistair begins to see the woman behind my guarded heart.

But I didn’t return to Verona simply for a new life.

Five years ago, I lost my memory. My identity was stolen. Someone betrayed me, and someone wanted me gone.

Now the past is catching up with us.

And when it finally does, I may discover that Cassian chose me for a reason no one ever expected.

Some loves take time. Some truths take even longer to uncover.

He swore to kill his mate.
She was convinced she’d never have one.
For twenty-one years, Ximena Blackthorn has lived as the disgrace of her pack.
Born to an Alpha and Luna without a wolf, she's treated as lower than a servant—beaten, ignored, and reminded every day that she should never have been born. Without a wolf, she believes she is beyond the reach of the mate bond.
Then the impossible happens. The moment the Supreme Alpha touches her, the mate bond awakens.
There is only one problem.
Damon has spent centuries believing that a mate is nothing more than a weakness. He made a promise long before Ximena was born: if fate ever gave him a mate, he would kill her with his own hands.
So instead of claiming her...
He hunts her.
But the more Damon tries to destroy the bond, the more his own wolf rebels against him. And when ancient powers begin awakening inside Ximena—powers that should have remained buried forever—everyone begins hunting the woman the Supreme Alpha swore to kill.
Because Ximena isn't just the Supreme Alpha's mate.
She is the one person who was never meant to return. And when the power sleeping inside her finally awakens...
Damon may discover that fate has given him something far more dangerous than a mate. It has brought back an ancient curse. And some curses don't end with death…
They begin with it.