8305 Book(s) Related to the alpha prince s redemption

Laura Montez was born with grease under her nails and fire in her blood. At twenty, she runs a struggling custom bike shop in the city’s forgotten slums, races illegally at night, and fights every day to keep her sick younger sister alive. Two years earlier, her father was framed for corporate sabotage and sent to prison, her family was ruined, and Laura was forced to abandon her dream of becoming an engineer. Since then, she has hated one name above all others—Regal Empire, the powerful corporation responsible for destroying her life.

Nathan Conat is the polished, ruthless heir to that empire. Raised to inherit power instead of love, he knows how to acquire, manipulate, and win—but not how to feel. Sent undercover to clear Laura’s neighborhood for a luxury redevelopment project, Nathan expects to buy Laura out of his way.

Instead, he meets the first woman who refuses to bend.

When Laura humiliates him in her garage, Nathan becomes fascinated and under the guise of a false identity, he manoeuvres his way into her world.

But fascination turns to obsession, and obsession becomes something far more dangerous when Laura discovers he is the very man tied to her family’s ruin.

In a world built on greed, power, and lies, Laura and Nathan must decide whether love can survive the wreckage—or whether some hearts are only made to burn.

Rule #1: Never accept a gift you can’t afford.

When my boyfriend proposed with a stolen blue diamond and vanished overnight, he left me at the mercy of lethal debt collectors.

Out of options and out of time, I signed a rescue contract with my powerful billionaire boss, Damian Wolfe.

He gave me safety. He gave me protection. He gave me a ring.

But protection in Damian’s world comes with a terrifying price. Behind his flawless smile and endless wealth lies a web of dangerous lies—and the lingering feeling that my nightmare was no accident.

I thought I was rescued. I didn't realize I had just walked willingly into the deadliest trap of all.

Since she could remember, Cassie Smith had been in love with Nathan Greg. When she left home to attend a university two states away, they transitioned from being best friends in school to friends with benefits. Their once-a-month weekends were the pinnacle of her life, when he would fly in to see her and she would have him all to herself for the whole, uninterrupted weekend.

Then he announced his impending marriage to her.

Cassie had to take action to restore order since her idealized world was in danger of collapsing. She wanted to be the woman Nathan married and had a happy life with because she needed him in her life. She thus devised a scheme to interrupt the wedding and kidnap the groom.

She later met Brian.
In order to make the groom envious and aid her in calling off the wedding, Brian Colleen, the reclusive aviation Billionaire, promised to pose as her lover. She began to doubt her allegiance to Nathan as a result of his stunning green eyes and the way he made her feel when he touched her. He's also Nathan's stepbrother, incidentally.
She couldn't deny that she felt something for Brian, but what would it indicate for her relationship with Nathan going forward? Should she continue on her current path and work for the happily ever after she had always envisioned with Nathan, or take a risk on a new relationship with Brian?

Please dear readers, I want to inform you all that this story is in series and I will be uploading all of them in the story, thank you all.

Mara Vale knew how to save ruined things.

Rotten silk. Smoke-stained lace. Wedding gowns torn by jealous hands or careless lovers. In the old brick shop her mother had left her, Mara could lift a century of dirt from a veil and make every hidden stitch disappear.

But on the night of her own wedding, there was nothing she could save.

Her fiance was in the hotel bridal suite with her stepsister. Her father called her ungrateful when she refused to smile through the betrayal. By midnight, Mara had lost her groom, her family, and the deed to the shop that carried her mother's name.

Then rain drove her into a garage on the wrong side of downtown, where a dangerous young mechanic caught her before she hit the concrete.

Dante Cross smelled like motor oil, wore a dirty white tank under his coveralls, and looked at Mara as if he had been waiting eight years to find her.

Everyone thought he was poor.

Everyone was wrong.

And when Mara's enemies dragged her onto a livestream and called her a thief in front of fifty thousand strangers, the man from the garage stepped between her and the slap meant to break her.

He did not ask permission.

He simply said, "Touch her again, and find out who owns this street."

“You watched me burn… and chose to save your lover?” I whispered, hatred blazing in my eyes.
“Then I will watch you and your empire turn to ashes.”
“Wife, come home,” the cold Don said warmly. “The bed is empty without you.”
“Mommy, please come home,” my son cried with big fat tears. “I want to hug you to sleep.”
I laughed bitterly. “I hate you both.”
“Yes, Mommy,” they said at the same time, “we love you too.”
“WHY ARE YOU TWO NOT FOLLOWING THE SCRIPT?”
—----
Once, Elena Moretti was the perfect Mafia wife. Silent, loyal, and willing to sacrifice everything for her husband and son. And for that devotion, she was repaid with betrayal and death.
Reborn in the fifth year of her marriage, just before everything spirals out of control, Elena refuses to love blindly again.
This time, she chooses herself.
She divorces the man she once worshipped.
She walks away from the child who loathes her and calls another woman “Mom.”
But fate is treacherous.
The cold Mafia Don who slowly realizes he has lost the only woman who ever truly loved him.
The son who begins to feel the emptiness left by his mother’s absence.
Join Elena’s journey of self love, healing and a second chance at love.

Intro: I spent three years as a logistics mage in the Darkmoon Pack, chasing the wolf clan's female war goddess for a full year. I repaired her armor, mixed her potions, and secretly tucked protective charms inside her gear. She never once looked me in the eye. At the bonfire banquet, after enduring humiliation, I took the initiative to sever ties and walked away. Without my help, she lost everything. When I was reborn and returned, facing the one and only chance to win me back, she finally chose to make the first move.

To protect my son, I spent a grueling year trapped in an underground bunker on an isolated island. Outside the heavy steel door, the scratching and snarling of the undead never ceased.

When our supplies finally ran dry, I risked my life crawling through a narrow ventilation duct to find water—only to emerge into bright sunlight. There was no apocalypse.

My wife—who had supposedly been "torn apart" by the horde—was lounging in a silk slip, sipping champagne with my head of security. And those monsters pounding on my door? Paid actors.

They had staged this entire bio-crisis just to lock me away and drive me insane, all so they could legally seize my billion-dollar empire.

Watching their smug smiles, I slipped back into the shadows. I destroyed the island's entire communication grid and emptied the only vial of a real zombie virus into their central water supply.

Since you love playing doomsday survival so much... let's make it real.

I gave birth to three children for my ruthless mafia husband. And every single time, he tore the newborns from my blood-soaked sheets and handed them straight to my barren sister.
For seven years, I endured electroshock therapy and brutal captivity, reduced to nothing but a breeding vessel to complete their "picture-perfect" family.
He thought he had broken my spirit long ago. That’s why, when the assassins struck, he didn't hesitate to shove me into the line of fire as a human shield.
To protect his true love, he threw my bleeding, wounded body into a freezing water cell as their perfect scapegoat.
He thought tossing me a few scraps of mercy would have me crawling back to him, begging like a dog.
But he was dead wrong.
When the bone-chilling water swallowed me, I didn't panic or thrash. I simply smiled, letting the black depths drag me under.
Domenico could never have imagined that the cold, lifeless corpse he personally sent to the morgue was my perfect escape, seven agonizing years in the making.
He stole my babies. He stripped away every last ounce of my dignity.
So now, I’m going to take away everything he holds dear, piece by agonizing piece: his empire, his power, and the love he arrogantly thought he could control forever.

Seven years of marriage turned to ash the moment I discovered my husband had arranged for his sister-in-law to carry his dead brother's child—using his own sperm to continue the family bloodline.
Lorenzo Corvino—New York's most ruthless don—would drive three hours through a storm just to get me imported cherries. He held me at my mother's funeral, crying until dawn. He hospitalized a man for disrespecting me at a charity gala.
I thought I was the center of his world.
Until the private investigator's flash drive revealed the truth: Lorenzo at the clinic for Claudia's prenatal appointments, his hand on her pregnant belly, whispering "Marco would be so proud."
In the end, on the Corvino family's scale of priorities, continuing his dead brother's bloodline would always outweigh his infertile wife.
The night the yacht exploded, the New York sky burned red. The news reported the mafia don's wife had perished in the flames. He collapsed on the dock, clutching the charred wreckage, breaking down completely.
But he didn't know—
That "dead" woman was across the Atlantic on the Amalfi Coast, one hand on her seven-week baby bump, protecting the secret he'd never discover.
Seven months later, when he stepped into my new life and saw the infant with his deep brown eyes cradled in my arms—
This man who'd built an empire on violence and fear finally understood what he'd truly lost.
And I'll spend the rest of my life making sure he knows: some betrayals are so deep, even "I'm sorry" is more than he'll ever deserve.

When the vaccine turned into a deadly virus, the dead rose with blood-red eyes. Marcus lost his lover in the apocalypse, discovered the dark conspiracy behind the zombie hordes. From a desperate survivor to a cold hunter, he burns for revenge and fights to save the last of humanity in the ruined world.

"What gives a scarred freak like you the right to stand next to him?"
Four years ago, a brutal attack left a hideous burn scar across the left side of my face. Ever since, I've hidden behind a black mask, fading into the darkest corners of St. Oak High. I thought if I just stayed perfectly invisible, I could survive high school in peace.
Then Michael came back.
He's the President of Model UN, an Ivy-League-bound genius, and the golden boy everyone revolves around. And me? I’m just a damaged outcast too terrified to show my own face.
The harder I pushed him away, the closer he got.
But when a video from four years ago surfaces—showing him throwing a punch just to defend me—his flawless future is suddenly on the line. That's when I knew I couldn't hide in the shadows anymore.
This time, even if it means exposing my ugliest scars to the harsh light of day, I will do whatever it takes to protect him.

In Heaven, there exists an iron law: during the Ascension Ceremony, if a bride fails nine times to complete the bonding flight with her groom's Divine Cloak, her soul is deemed tainted, and she will be cast into the Abyss for seven centuries of penance.
I was once Heaven's greatest warrior, until I threw myself before the hellfire meant for Archangel Gabriel—and lost my wings forever.
I endured eight Ascension ceremonies. Each time, Gabriel found a reason to delay.
Then came the ninth. My last chance. One flight bound to his Divine Cloak, and I would soar again—my name cleared, my honor restored.
But atop the ceremonial tower, he unclasped the cloak from his own shoulders and wrapped it around Irene, the trembling Healing Angel.
"Cecilia, Irene needs this more. You're strong—you'll survive the fall."
He'd forgotten one thing: without wings, this height would kill me.
I didn't beg. I simply met his eyes—and stepped off the edge.
I woke in the arms of the Demon Lord I'd once shown mercy.
He spread ten pairs of wings that blotted out the heavens and carried me back to Heaven as his queen.
And Gabriel—that proud Archangel—knelt at my feet, tears streaming, begging me to look at him just once more.

When my husband handed the project I bled for to his "depressed" childhood sweetheart, he told me to be mature. "You're my wife. You shouldn't care about the credit."

So, when I was in the hospital miscarrying our baby while he threw her a party, I didn't cry. When she posted selfies wearing my anniversary necklace, I didn't scream.

Julian thought he had finally broken me into the perfect, obedient housewife. He truly believed I was nothing without him.

What a pathetic joke.

He had no idea his entire "business empire" was secretly kept alive by my family's trust fund.

He certainly didn't know the "mundane paperwork" he blindly signed this morning was my resignation—and our divorce agreement.

In my past life, I replaced my runaway sister Beatrice and was forced to marry mob enforcer Rowan Sinclair.
She thought he was poor with no future, so she ran. My parents didn't even tell me before sending me in her place.
Rowan knew the truth. He carried it like shame, never truly seeing me—only cold stares and silent contempt. I spent years beside him like an unwanted ghost, carefully managing his world while he rose from despised smuggler to feared godfather.
Then his attitude began to change.
Just when I thought we might have a real future, Beatrice returned with tears and lies, claiming I'd stolen her place. Rowan believed her. My parents betrayed me. Everyone chose her.
When a rival family captured us both, guns to our heads, only one could survive.
Rowan pulled Beatrice into his arms and abandoned me without a glance.
They tortured me for three days. The baby in my womb died first. Its father never knew it existed.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back to that afternoon before it all began.

"Your wife is just making up another excuse to ask for money."

With just one sneer from his trusted female assistant, my husband hung up my desperate call for help on that stormy night.

Safe in his warm conference room, he scolded me for being unreasonable and told me to "let the rain cool your head."

What he didn't know was that on that freezing night, because of his assistant's vicious lies and my inability to pay the medical fees, our newborn baby stopped breathing forever.

Three months later, discovering the horrifying truth, he searched frantically for me like a madman.

Finally, before our baby’s tombstone, a broken and desperate man knelt in the mud, begging me to take him back.

I just turned my back on him and walked away.

"We are over. Forever."

My three-year-old daughter hides behind the sofa whenever I try to hold her now.

“Mommy is scary,” she whispers, clutching her stuffed bear like a shield.

I thought it was just a toddler’s overactive imagination.

Until I checked the camera feed in my own bedroom.

I watched a woman who looked exactly like me step out of the shadows of our antique mirror, slip into my husband’s bed, and kiss him.

A noble homecoming turns into a death sentence. Jessica uncovers dark abyss magic hidden inside gift chocolate. With no way to break the threeday binding curse, she lets her dying lover take its power. Revenge unfolds in full view at the grand temple engagement ceremony. Victory comes with an irreversible price: true love lives inside another woman’s skin.

I married a billionaire heir who could neither walk nor speak.
On our wedding night, he signed for "separate rooms." I turned and dismissed the staff: "My husband can't wait."
When we met his mother, he furiously signed to complain about my bossiness. I translated his gestures into romantic sweet nothings, coaxing her into giving me strings of family jewels.
At the country club with my girls, I showed off my ridiculously handsome husband. I even pushed his wheelchair right up to the goalpost and made him my goalkeeper.
He struggled, glaring at me, his eyes full of humiliation—but that broken look only made me more addicted. I was entirely captivated by his face, fully believing I had hit the jackpot.
Until one morning, tangled up in the sheets, I caught him firmly propping up his own body.
My blood ran cold. I rolled over and bolted.
A deep, raspy male voice echoed behind me.
In that instant, I realized the ruthless, commanding heir had returned...

I thought I was the luckiest person in the apocalypse.
My brother, a former special forces soldier, brought me supplies so I wouldn't have to face the horrors above ground.
My girlfriend comforted me over the radio, saying she'd cry in my arms once we could finally get out.
I lived underground for three years, grateful like a domesticated dog.
Until that day, when I pushed open the door, smelled fresh grass, and saw the swimming pool in the sunlight—that's when I understood that the so-called apocalypse was never outside, but behind the door they had locked me in.

"Fuck a whale like that? Dude, I'd need a goddamn forklift to dig through the rolls and find the hole. You could pay me a thousand bucks and I still wouldn't touch it. This isn't a date—this is a fear factor challenge."
Three months ago, those words boomed through the speakers at the frat party, filling every corner of the house.
That night, I was the joke. The fattest pig in their twisted little hunting game.
Three months later, I'm at the podium running for student body president. My waist dropped from 38 inches to 24, and this custom suit fits like a weapon.
Down below, the same people who laughed are staring up at me now. And that asshole who needed the forklift? He's face-down in the dirt like a kicked dog, waiting for me to end him.
My name is Leona. This isn't some crying fat girl's diary anymore. This is how I crushed every bastard who ever stepped on me—and clawed my way to the crown with blood and sweat.

My daughter died on her seventh birthday.
I held her in the cold ward as her body slowly lost all warmth.
Meanwhile, her father—my husband Vincent—was on a mountain top with his mistress, making love to her all night long.
He said, "She’s just a child. There’ll be better ones sooner or later."
He said, "Camila, you’re the only one I love."
He has no idea that he’s killed the only soul in this world that loved him unconditionally.
After the divorce, I am no longer the meek Mrs. Lucchese who begged for his affection.
Funeral, scandal, a worthless bastard...
Everything I lost, I will make him pay for—with his entire family.

Young love and devotion fell to his marital greed. In reckless indulgence, Nate ruined his lifelong lover and family. He sided with his mistress, ignored my agony and child loss, and pushed me into despair. Seven years later, the once-glorious Wall Street elite fell utterly abandoned and destitute. Repentant and desperate, he begged for redemption. But his belated love now only meets my cold, unwavering indifference.

At my engagement dinner, my fiancé asked me to sign the prenup that killed me once before.

Last time, Adrian smiled, kissed my hand, and promised I would never be alone again. Three weeks later, debt collectors came for money I had never borrowed, black veins crawled under my skin, and his dying mother walked out of hospice in pearls.

This time, I turned to the second page first.

My name was already printed there.

Beside it was a date that had not happened yet.

Under it was another bride’s name.

A woman declared dead twenty-three years ago.

Julian and I played house for five years—minus the actual marriage certificate. Because he bailed on me at the registry office twelve times. All for Mia, some intern.

First time: Mia screwed up her pitch.

Sixth time: Mia had the flu.

Twelfth time: Mia's ex showed up at our architecture firm throwing punches. Julian had to play knight in shining armor. I got knocked into a desk, cracked my head open—he didn't spare me a glance before whisking her off to the ER.

Before, I would've lost it. Screamed. Sobbed. Begged him to tell me who the hell he was actually planning to marry. And every single time, Julian would sigh and say, "Chloe, really? She's just an intern. Practically a child."

This time, all I said was: "Go ahead."

Then I turned around and took that job overseas.

When his thirteenth text came through—yet another registry office reschedule—I was already at the gate for my London flight.

This time? I'm choosing me.

Ryan loves me deeply—at least that's what everyone says. Seven years together, we look like the perfect couple to outsiders. But only I know he's betrayed me three times.

The first time was three years ago. His brother died saving him, leaving behind his widow Sophia—Ryan's unforgettable first love. He married her behind my back. When I found out, I completely fell apart. I have dignity. I refuse to be the other woman. I wanted to leave, but he begged on his knees. "This is just to take care of my sister-in-law. Once I find the truth about my brother's death, I'll divorce her. Then we can get married."

I believed him. I forgot that a man never lets go of a lost love he's gotten back.

The second time was at last year's company anniversary. In front of everyone, he introduced Sophia as his wife. I watched them on stage, a knife through my heart. That night he explained, "It's just for show. Once everything's over, we can be together."

I believed him again.

The third time was two weeks ago. Surveillance footage showed Ryan with Sophia entering a hotel room. I rushed to confront him, but heard her voice outside his office. "Ryan, I'm pregnant. It's your baby."

Through the crack in the door, I see him hesitate. In that instant I understand.

He's going to keep her.

He spots me and rushes out in a panic. "It was an accident! Let me explain! After she has the baby, I'll give her money and make her leave. She won't be in our lives anymore!"

In that moment, I finally wake up. There will be no future for us.

A bored demon out for a good time came after me and my worst enemy, and locked us in a room with no door.

The rules are simple. We each have to confess three secrets the other one has no idea about, for his amusement, and only then do we get out.

Weston raises an eyebrow, that lazy, punchable smirk on his face.

"After ten years of being at each other's throats, what could you possibly still be hiding from me?"

He doesn't know I never actually hated him.

He doesn't know that three months ago, at that masquerade, the woman he slept with was me.

And he definitely doesn't know the baby I'm carrying is his.

At eighteen, I gave my virginity to Hunter in his bed.

I swallowed all the pain and hesitation, naively believing that three years of a pathetic crush had finally earned my way into his heart.

Until the next morning, when I heard his teammates' unabashed mockery:

"Damn, you finally bagged the nerd? How was it?"

Hunter scoffed, his tone dripping with utter contempt.

"Just messing around. If I'm bringing a real girlfriend out, it's gotta be someone on Serena's level—head cheerleader."

I wordlessly opened my college application portal, deleted the garbage local state school I had picked just to stay with him, and changed it back to Yale.

He confidently thought I would follow him blindly, until he video-called me on opening day and completely lost his mind seeing who was beside me: his own stepbrother.

Siren's Reef only breeds women.
On this isolated island, Henrietta's orphanage takes in all fatherless girls. She raises us until our eighteenth birthday—the night of the "Coral Crowning," an annual coming-of-age ritual that supposedly earns the Sea God's blessing.
My sister Saffron and I are identical twins, raised wearing the exact same face.
But on this island, the same face doesn't spell the same fate. She was the one Henrietta spoiled from birth; I was the one allowed to trail behind her.
I thought it would always be this way. Until she died. Henrietta claimed Saffron broke the rules and was flayed alive by the serrated edges of the reef. But that day, I saw it with my own eyes: Saffron's signature dimple had appeared on Henrietta's cheek—where none had been before.

In my past life, when I eagerly handed my ultrasound to my gentle doctor husband, I didn't get a warm embrace. I got a scalpel. Without anesthesia.

The man I loved dragged me into a pitch-black basement to butcher me alive. My once-doting mother called me a filthy whore, treating me like a sickening stain on the family. My fiercely protective brother pinned me to a metal workbench, offering me up as a living sacrifice.

I died in utter agony, left to rot and be eaten alive by rats in the dark. Up until my last breath, I couldn't understand:

Why did a single piece of paper—a sonogram of a perfectly healthy baby—instantly turn my entire family into bloodthirsty monsters?

There's a heavy iron door at the end of the hall. Anyone who steps inside returns with eyes full of hatred. That’s all it took for the basement to turn my gentle fiancé into a predator and my loyal best friend into an enemy. Now, I'm trapped with a mother who claims the violence is all in my head. I have to open that door.

On the day I died, Roland was rolling in the sheets with his adopted sister, Lavinia.
When the hospital called with my death notice, he scoffed. It was just drawing some blood, how could anyone die from that? He was certain I was just throwing a tantrum again, desperate for his attention.
The day he received my ashes, he personally smashed the wooden urn to the ground. His expensive leather shoes ground my ashes into the floor over and over as he coldly announced he was going to marry Lavinia and throw a grand wedding—the exact wedding I had begged for when I was alive but never got.
It wasn't until the day before their wedding that his assistant, Desmond, rushed in, trembling.
"Sir, it's bad... We pulled the security footage from the hospital, and... the madam's autopsy report."

Five years ago, my ex-boyfriend Jason said coldly when he abandoned me: "Charlotte, you're not worthy of my dreams."

Five years later, when I saw him again, he had become Floreton's tech mogul while I remained a simple sculptor. His new fiancée—a wealthy heiress—sneered at my modest attire: "Someone like you can actually afford to book a top-tier wedding venue?"

She stole my venue, crushed my fingers, and forced me to kneel and apologize: "Say you don't belong here!"

Jason stood by watching coldly, just as indifferent as he was on that rainy night five years ago.

I desperately thought this was my fate, until that familiar, furious voice echoed throughout the entire venue:

"What bastard touched my woman!"

My Bradley had arrived.

This time, I would be the one laughing last.

The day college applications were due, Fern Whitmore wouldn't stop crying — and my two childhood best friends were completely wrapped around her finger.

They actually threatened to give up their Ivy League spots to follow her to community college.

I tried everything to talk them out of it. Nothing worked. So I went behind their backs and called both their parents.

Their parents showed up that same night and put a stop to it. Applications corrected, crisis averted, everyone back on track.

Or so I thought.

Fern lost her two personal ATMs, and one night she posted a goodbye message on social media and swallowed a bottle of pills.

Nash and Declan didn't blame her for it. They blamed me.

They lured me up to the roof. Both of them shoved their hands against my chest.

"Maren." Declan's voice was ice. "You ruined Fern's future. Go apologize to her in hell."

I fell twelve stories.

When I opened my eyes, I was back at the beginning.

This time, I'm not saving anyone.

On my twenty-fourth birthday, my grandfather dropped the bombshell: I was an orphan.
After learning about my biological family, I decided to do something nice. I bought a limited-edition sports car as a gift for the father I had never met.
But at the dealership, I was publicly humiliated by my brother's mistress.
To clear up the misunderstanding, I called my brother.
When he arrived, it was only to back her up.
"This birthmark is ugly; let me help you get rid of it."
My own brother used a cigar to burn off the birthmark behind my ear and had my suffering broadcast on the mall's LED screen.
"Listen, if anyone dares to treat this woman’s injuries, I’ll have their license revoked in this city for good!"
But he didn’t know that the grandfather who raised me was someone no one in this city could even dream of looking up to.
When my grandfather arrived with a top-notch medical team and armed mercenaries, sealing off the entire building, my arrogant brother finally realized his mistake.

My uncle has a hunting cabin in Alaska. Every December, I stay there for a few days.

This year he wasn't there—left me the keys.

When I walked in, I noticed there was a new deer head mount above the fireplace.

Not a whitetail deer. A moose. Very large.

But I noticed its eyes weren't made of glass.

Those two eyeballs looked... too real.

The pupils even contracted in the light.

I texted my uncle asking when he'd shot this moose.

He replied: "What moose?"

I looked at the mount again.

Its lips moved slightly.

Not the rise and fall of breathing, but... trying to form a word.

At the family banquet, a power-hungry male special assistant projected a dimly lit bed photo onto the massive screen. He claimed he had slept with my wife—the heiress to the family—and demanded I walk away from the marriage with nothing.
While all the relatives were waiting for me to become the laughingstock, my eyes landed on a red rose burn scar in the corner of the photo. I couldn't help but laugh out loud.
He hadn't even turned on the bedside lamp. He had no idea that the woman he had just slept with was actually the wife of a psychopathic serial killer.

On the night of my 28th birthday, my husband was stuck in the OR.
The man sitting across from me at dinner was his best friend, Ronan.
I got drunk. Half-asleep, I pulled a man who smelled exactly like Nate into my bed.
When morning broke, the truth did too—the man pinning me down was Ronan. He’d used my husband’s cologne.
"From the first time I saw you, I wanted to steal you from him."
Crying, I confessed everything to Nate over the phone. Dead silence for three seconds, then he hung up.
By the time I rushed home, Ronan was dragging two suspiciously heavy black suitcases out the door. And my husband... vanished off the face of the earth.

I was once the supreme ruler of the global underworld, stepping down from my throne just to cook hot meals for my daughter. Yet, my arrogant brother-in-law mistook my silence for weakness. He smashed my home, tried to hand my wife over to a Mafia Don for his own career, and even stole my Black-Gold Skull Coin as a tribute!
Fine. You want to play? I'll grant your wish.
With a single keystroke, I initiated the DEFCON-1 combat protocol. Instantly, one hundred thousand of the world’s most elite mercenaries went berserk, locking down the entirety of New York City!

Do you want to touch it?"

Princess Katrinetta gasped and nodded, her hand reaching out to stroke him.

He shifted on top of her, coming up onto his elbows so that she was straddled beneath him. His hips were wide, and the powerful muscles beneath her hands had her yearning for him more than ever. She rocked her lower body up in an attempt to meet him, never dreaming her fist time would be like this!


Why choose just one man when she can have them all?

Cassius is strong and bold.
Jate is passionate and loyal.
Reeve is mysterious and brave.
And then there's Eliason... the man she's loved since she was a young teen.
How can she pick just one?

Princess Katrinetta will be queen of Yewforia one day. At the age of 21, embarks upon her Choosing, a time when Representatives from every realm will travel to Castle Wrenbrook to prove to the princess they are worthy of her love. But as Kit gets to know the men, she realizes it will be impossible for her to only choose one of them to rule Yewforia with her.

When she discovers that her mother, Queen Rona, isn't just cruel to her, she's mistreating the citizens of the land, Kit and her men work together to stop her mother and her sinister plan.

Will Kit's plans to keep all seven of the men she loves and still become queen work?

Full of steamy bedroom scenes, Realm of the Chosen: A Reverse Harem Romance, is for mature readers.

Catching her husband mid-affair at a hotel, Arabella Bourbon didn't hesitate—she filed for divorce.

On the day the papers were finalized, with her ex and his mistress watching, she grabbed a random stranger and marched straight to the courthouse.

Everyone mocked her for trading a wealthy husband for some nobody in sales. What they didn't know? Her new husband was the billionaire who controlled the world's economy.

From the day I met him at the age of ten, I worked hard to improve myself, all just to catch a glimpse of him in the crowd. He promised to protect me for a lifetime. However, those twelve years turned out to be nothing but my own laughable obsession... He was no longer my brother.
After being sent to prison by him for three years, I returned with a vengeance. I was no longer the woman who loved him to the point of self-abasement!
I tore apart the homewreckers, trampled on the scum, and was about to ruthlessly punish the scumbag when... the man who had previously been cruel and indifferent to me suddenly became gentle and tender!

CAMILLA WALTERS thought she had come to the end of the road when fate caught up with her. Nowhere left to run or hide, on the verge of becoming fish food at the hands of drug runners she owed a lot of money to. That was until fate brought her ALEXI, head of the family CARRERO - The unexpected hero who saved her ass and changed her life in one easy maneuver. Who knew she would have to sign her soul over to the devil in a bid to stay alive and in doing so, lose her heart and mind in the process. This is not your typical hearts and roses story - Let the games begin and the war commence.

[WARNING: MATURE CONTENT] "Each time you break a rule; I'll claim a part of your body as mine"
Forced to marry the heir of the largest mafia syndicate to pay for her parent's debt and her grandmother's hospital bills. "Live with my son for 30 days, if you don't fall in love with him, I'll cancel this contract."
Can Malissa live with the handsome, hot and dominating Hayden for 30 days without falling for his charms? However, there are rules to living with this lusty monster and as Malissa breaks them, she learns of pleasures that she never knew existed.
As his touches set her on fire, her heart starts to melt. But does the two have a future together when Hayden is in love with someone else and Malissa cannot get over her ex-boyfriend? READ NOW to find out!
My other works: Love Slave to My Devil CEO Boss, Forbidden Heat, Substitute Wife for the Mafia King, The Alpha Prince's Purchased Maid, Lust Contracts, and Conquering the Emperor

Facebook Page: Realfantasies Author

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Tally Barca is done with her "all-star asshole" ex and ready to rebuild. What she's not ready for is being the fated mate to two powerful shifter alphas—the dominant Theron and the gentle Connor. With a malicious ex and a jealous rival on her tail, Tally must unlock her own latent power to claim her place in the pack and in their hearts.

If you love steamy shifter romance, fated mates, and a heroine finding her strength, you need to read Tally's story from start to finish!.

For the full experience, read from beginning to end. I can't wait to hear your comment❤️🙏

Victoria fought with her parents and went on a hunger strike to marry Martin, the poor boy she loved.
For Martin's sake, Victoria used everything she had to pave his way and scheme for his success.
When Martin finally climbed to a high position as she had wished, the first thing he did was remove his mask and cast Victoria into hell: using emotional abuse to force Victoria into divorce, trampling on her pride and dignity, cursing her to meet a bad end...
As he wished, Victoria, who feared the cold most, died in the snow.
But Martin went mad. The cold and handsome CEO's hair turned white overnight, calling out to Victoria with deep affection, begging her to wake up and come home with him...

At her own birthday banquet, another woman was the star of the night.
She stood at the door and watched her husband crown his "friend" with a diamond-studded tiara — the very gift she thought was meant for her.
On the stage, he smiled tenderly. Their daughter laughed and danced. She alone was the uninvited stranger.
For six years, she gave up a brilliant research career to become his housewife — and received not a single word of gratitude.
When her heart finally went cold, she walked away, leaving nothing behind but a divorce agreement.
Then she returned to the lab — and stunned the world as a leading scientist. No more shrinking herself for anyone. She became herself again.
And the man who once treated her like air cornered her with red-rimmed eyes:
"Darling, I was wrong. Please come home."

"Is this your way of seducing me?" Clifton looked at the woman before him, wearing only a thin nightgown, her perfect curves exposed to his eyes.
"I admit, I'm attracted to you." Clifton suddenly lowered his head, his thin lips biting down on my collarbone, his fingers trailing down from my full chest, slipping between my thighs.
I was pinned down on the bed by Miranda, feeling the pleasure he brought to my body.
"Be good and let me in." Clifton thrust into me forcefully.
After suffering betrayal from her ex-husband and cousin, Miranda married the disfigured and disabled Clifton as his contract wife to cover her company's losses.
But an accident led Miranda to discover that Clifton was neither disfigured nor disabled—he was actually the underground king who controlled the entire city.
Miranda became afraid and prepared to leave this terrifying man, but Clifton kept dragging her back: "The contract is void. I want not only your body, but also your heart."
This time, will she truly fall in love with this dangerous man?

I pulled her closer and entered her again. Again and again, picking up the rhythm. The more intense my movements, the louder she screamed.

"Amelia?" I asked.

"Stop asking if I'm okay and take me, Leonardo!" she shouted. "Harder!"

My boss, proposes that we get married for six months to improve his bachelor image and save his company. I agree, thinking it's just a game. But from the first kiss in this fake marriage, I realize my innocence won’t last long.

Rule number one? Some boundaries are meant to be broken, no matter the consequences.