3076 Book(s) Related to fifty sixty its my pleasure read online

At my mother's funeral, my fiancé held my frail Omega servant tightly in his arms.
And my father—the Alpha of the Crescent pack—struck me across the face in front of everyone, all for the sake of the woman who had gotten my mother killed.
"Your mother brought this on herself. Lilith is just a poor, helpless girl!"
That was the moment I heard my faith in this family shatter.
Later, to force me to bow to Lilith, they smashed the one relic my mother had left behind, right in front of my eyes.
I looked at them and smiled coldly. Then I turned and stepped off the edge into the abyss.

After giving birth to my son Finn, crippling postpartum depression and searing nerve pain left by my difficult labor reduced me to nothing more than a walking corpse.
My husband Preston had once sworn to stay by my side “in sickness and in health”, yet every bit of his patience had long since burned away.
At the Thanksgiving feast, my hands shook and spasmed. I knocked over the scalding gravy, drawing the judging stares of every guest at the table.
Instead of comfort, I only got Preston's undisguised revulsion.
He handed over my seat as the lady of the house to Rosalie, our young live-in nanny, ordering me to go upstairs and stop disgracing myself in front of others.
What broke my heart most was that my own son flinched from my outstretched arms and fled straight into Rosalie's embrace.
Staring at the harmonious trio before my eyes, they looked far more like a real family.
I might as well die.

That wedding in Rome was the last time I ever saw him as his “stepsister.”
I was the Roxie family’s only daughter. After my father remarried, my mother and I moved into the Corleone estate, and from that day on, Elias became my stepbrother—also the one obsession I should never have touched.
Out in public, he was always calm and controlled. At home, though, one line from him “Don’t call me brother” made my heart race.
Until the day he held Sophia’s hand in front of a priest and announced he was going to marry her.
I was outside the venue, bending down to pick up empty bottles because I needed dialysis money. He crushed them under his shoe in front of everyone, humiliated me, and forced me to trade my dignity for cash, like he was nailing the word “step-siblings” onto a pillar of shame.
He hated me. He said I’d “gotten back at him” in the filthiest way. I just smiled and never explained.
Because he would never know the truth: back then, the reason I shoved him away with everything I had was only because I wanted him to live a little cleaner.
That night, he locked me in a pitch-dark storage room. Outside the door was wedding music. Inside was my blood and the suffocating despair.
When he finally opened the door… I was already dead.

I waited twenty years for my wolf.
She never came. No first shift at sixteen. No stirring at eighteen. Nothing. My parents crossed the continent chasing rare awakening herbs—moonpetal, silverroot, anything with a rumor attached.
None of it worked.
I died without ever hearing her voice. Throat torn open in my own bed by Brennan Falk, the son of my live-in caretaker.
That's when I finally learned why she never woke.
The "awakening blend" Dorene brewed me every night was laced with wolfsbane. Enough to keep my wolf buried forever. Enough to keep me weak, wolfless, and easy to kill.
And the awakening chamber my parents built for me—the one I was too heartbroken to ever set foot in—had been housing her entire family. Five rogues, living under my floor for over a year, eating my food, selling my herbs, waiting for the right moment.
After I died, they forged my exile papers. My parents flew home from an herb auction in Ashmoor to an empty house and a letter. They believed their daughter had given up and left the pack.
Then I opened my eyes. Three days before Brennan's fangs.
The first thing I did was text a witch about the awakening chamber.

"Do you want this?" He whispered seductively, his voice low and husky as he pressed his body against hers. She could feel the hard outline of his desire pressing against her through her tight jean shorts, igniting a fire within her that made her want to part her legs for him.

Lydia nodded shyly.

"Words, Lydia" Drake snarled, leaning down sucking, licking, kissing, and nipping her neck, "I need to hear you say you want me as much as I want you."

"Yes, Drake. Yes. Please." She begged,"I want this. I need you."


Desperate times call for desperate measures. With the hospital hounding her about her mother's unpaid medical bills, Lydia finds it necessary to drop out of college and join an escort service. When Lydia is offered a job pretending to be a billionaire's girlfriend, she jumps at the opportunity. She'll make quick cash, and all her problems will be solved. How hard could the job be? One missing nanny and a dark family secret later, Lydia discovers the job isn't quite what it was made out to be.

Dirt buried my broken body inch by inch, suffocating me.

"Don't blame me for being heartless, Olivia. Blame your own naivety!" Samantha White’s voice hissed above me like a viper.

Then came her smug confession. She was the one who swapped my father’s emergency medicine. She drove my mother to jump to her death with fake photos of an affair. Even my brother’s fatal racing accident was her handiwork. Rage consumed me; I wanted to tear her limb from limb, but her next words killed my spirit entirely.

"Your fiancé, John, used the money from your sold kidney to buy my engagement ring. We've been together all along."

The cold earth fell, and my world went dark.

Then, I woke up. I was back at my nineteenth birthday gala. John was right there, cornering me, demanding I apologize for pushing Catherine into the pool. This time, I didn't back down. The schemes and the hatred of my past life—I’m going to make you pay it all back, with interest.

"We want to see the virgin's breasts!" They shouted and ripped off my top, leaving me in nothing but my underwear.
Everyone laughed at me, but I can't do anything.
I couldn't speak.
"She seems to have a nice ass ...... " the man said.
He propped me up on a table and put my hands behind my back, then turned me over and lifted my skirt, exposing my ass. I gasped and tried to move, but he spanked me.
"How about we start with a hundred dollars? Any more, and you can check if she's a virgin...... " he said while holding me there.
"One hundred dollars!" I felt a hand rubbing my thighs and spread my legs.
But a voice boomed across the room.
"Five thousand dollars ...... Get your fucking hands off of her." An alpha voice rang out, and everyone fell silent.
" The deaf virgin is sold to the Alpha over there for five thousand dollars!"


The pack had always hated Mildred for not having a wolf.
The future alpha of the pack, her mate, immediately rejected her.
However, shortly after she escaped, she was kidnapped. She realized that her mate had sold her to the human trafficking mafia.
There, she met her second mate ...... He bought her. He was an Alpha who had suffered for years without his mate, which turned him into a violent and ruthless man.
Just when Mildred thought she had a chance to be happy, her first mate appeared again, jealous and demanding that Mildred become his wife.
Now Mildred was between two mates from rival packs, and she seemed to have a power to win the war.

Ever since she was ten years old, Emilia Wagner's heart has belonged to one person—Niklas Becker, her older brother’s best friend. To him, she was just the annoying little sister who tagged along, always lingering in the background. But to her, he was everything her first love, her quiet protector, the boy who unknowingly held her heart. Years passed, and she buried those feelings deep, knowing he would never see her the way she saw him.
Now a college student, Emilia is no longer the timid girl from the past. She has grown, yet her feelings for Niklas remain unchanged. But he still sees her as his best friend’s little sister off-limits, untouchable. Or so she thinks. When fate forces them into close proximity, stolen glances turn into lingering touches, and unspoken words become impossible to ignore. Niklas, who has always kept his distance, begins to see her in a new light.
But love isn’t easy, especially when secrets, misunderstandings, and the fear of crossing a line threaten to tear them apart. As their undeniable chemistry ignites, Emilia is left wondering, will she finally become the woman he chooses, or is she destined to remain just a childhood memory?

"You are my new mate," Alpha Lucien said.
"No," I whispered, trembling. "You're my stepfather."
Aria was born an orphan—unwanted, unloved, and used to being invisible in a pack that despised her. But nothing prepared her for the moment her cold, merciless stepfather, Alpha Lucien, marked her as his mate.
Trapped in a horrifying bond with the man who should've protected her, Aria is desperate to escape. Every touch burns, every word chains her tighter. Until Kael returns—Lucien's long-banished son, a fierce warrior with secrets in his eyes and fire in his blood.
When Kael lays eyes on Aria, everything explodes.
She's not just his father's claimed Luna.
She's his fated mate.
Now caught between a forced bond and a destined one, Aria must make an impossible choice: submit to the Alpha who claimed her by force… or fight for the forbidden love that could destroy them all.
In a world ruled by dominance, bloodlines, and fate, will love be her salvation—or her ruin?

“You can't fall in love with your boss.”

My best friend warned me before my first day at the firm.

I laughed.

“Don't worry. I'm already married.”

What I didn't tell her was that my husband was the man walking into the conference room that morning.

Elias Jefferson was the firm's newest partner—a brilliant, wealthy, intimidating attorney who could silence an entire room with a single glance.

And somehow, he was also the stranger I had married only days before.

Nobody at the firm knew.

Nobody could know.

I needed this job. I had spent years struggling to prove that I belonged in the legal world, and I refused to let anyone think I had gotten ahead because I was sleeping with the boss.

So at work, Elias and I became strangers.

He challenged my arguments in meetings. I fought back.

He praised my legal instincts in front of the entire team. I pretended his approval meant nothing.

And whenever our eyes met across the courtroom, I had to remind myself that he wasn't my husband here.

He was my boss.

But when the office lights went out and we went home together, keeping our distance became much harder.

Then one night, Elias told me, “Our marriage was supposed to be temporary. So why can't I imagine letting you go?”

I came to Frostveil Academy to because it was expected.
I never expected to be claimed….. especially not by him.

At Frostveil Academy, magic is power—and only the most powerful wolves rule the ice.

My name is Elira Frostborne. I am used to being invisible. I arrives at the elite Frostveil Academy already marked as an outsider. I don’t have my wolf yet. I don’t know my magical limits. And in a school built on dominance, that makes me dangerous—or disposable.
Especially when he starts to notice me….

Kade Pyrrhos is everything Frostveil respects. Powerful. Feared. Unbreakable. His wolf is fully awakened, his strength unquestioned, and his future already written. As the academy’s golden boy, he knows control is everything… until I arrives and his control begins to crumble.

Because something about me calls to him.

Every glance sparks tension. Every moment of closeness ignites power neither of us understands. My magic reacts to him in ways it never has before, and Kade’s wolf refuses to ignore me—no matter how forbidden I am.

Bound by secrets, divided by blood, and drawn together by a force older than the academy itself, we must decide whether to fight the bond forming between us… or surrender to it.

At Frostveil, strength is tested, power is claimed, and some bonds are impossible to break.
Even if he is my stepbrother.

3:07 a.m. That’s when my world shattered—via a video call from the boyfriend who’d vanished to Australia without a word. No warning, no goodbye, just a grin and a life-altering secret that left me reeling. But heartbreak doesn’t pause for office hours, and neither does my infuriatingly handsome boss, Rowan Pierce.
One minute, he’s micromanaging my reports and calling me “incompetent” for breathing wrong. The next, he’s dragging me to a business trip in the one country I never wanted to see again, playing the role of my fiancé to seal a deal. A fake kiss that felt too real. A stormy night where he held me like he actually cared. For a second, I let myself believe the ice around his heart was melting—until we got back to London.

Now he’s demoted me to the other side of the building, acting like our time in Australia was just a business transaction. Like the chocolate we shared, the shoulder I leaned on, the way he calmed my panic… meant nothing. But I’m not the girl who gets left behind twice. Caleb broke my trust, but Rowan? He’s playing a game I didn’t ask to join—and I’m about to find out why.

Was it all a lie? Or is the man who’s pushing me away the same one who’s terrified of letting me in? One thing’s for sure: I’m not leaving this office—or this mess—without the truth. And if Rowan Pierce thinks he can use me and discard me? He’s about to learn just how stubborn a heartbroken woman can be.

The military called me a legend. My wife called me a loser.

To honor a top-secret federal NDA, I buried my past and became a warehouse janitor at my wife's security firm.

I built her a multi-billion-dollar business empire from scratch, asking for nothing in return but the medical bills for my dying daughter.

Yet, just to marry another man, she stole my life's work as her own.

She went so far as to freeze my daughter’s healthcare account, throwing my dying little girl out into the freezing rain to force me out with nothing.

They thought they had stepped me into the dirt.

They have no idea that my NDA expires tonight.

I signed the divorce papers, walked out of the hospital with my girl in my arms, and dialed back into a locked military channel to issue one quiet command:

[SYSTEM RECOVERY: MASTER AUTHORIZATION REVOKED.]

Touch my daughter? Steal my work?

The reckoning has begun, and not a single one of you will survive the fallout.

Five months pregnant, I clung to the faint hope that my unborn baby and loving husband Liam would bring me warmth. But strapped to an operating table, I heard his cold order as the blade sliced my belly: cut out the fetus and discard it as medical waste—don’t delay Chloe’s kidney transplant.
My stepmother cheered next door, thrilled her daughter would get my kidney. They planned to drain me dry and leave me to die quietly. Little did they know, their brutal cruelty burned itself into my bones. When I crawl back from hell, I will break every last one of them.

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

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

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

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

A falling planter knocked me out after a fight with my lifelong rival. When I woke up, I remembered everything. But I decided to play dumb and fake amnesia—figured it was the perfect excuse to fleece him for some cash.
“Who are you?” I asked.
Nathan Cole looked shocked for a second, then lied through his teeth“Your boyfriend. We've been together for eight years.”
Wait, what?!
He glanced at my mouth. “Want a kiss? Might jog your memory.”
The audacity of this man.
I'd been after his money. Apparently, he was after my lips.

I married Adrian Bennett to pay off my family's debt. The contract was simple enough to fit on one page and insane enough to ruin my life: give him a daughter, and every dollar I owed vanished. Give him a son, and the balance doubled.
 
I gave him a boy. Then another boy. The debt quadrupled.
 
When our third child finally arrived and the doctor announced she was a girl, Adrian-the coldest CEO in Lakebridge-cried over her bassinet. He zeroed out my accounts before my anesthesia even wore off.
 
I thought I had finally survived the game.
 
Then his childhood friend came to visit. She took one look at the sea of pink dresses taking over our house and scoffed, claiming a daughter could never inherit the Bennett empire.
 
Adrian was on the floor, detangling our daughter's hair.
 
Without breaking his focus, he said, "My daughter will own the empire. And if she wants three husbands to serve her, I’ll buy them houses."
 
That was when I realized two things.
 
First, nobody in Lakebridge understood how dangerous it was to insult Adrian Bennett's daughter.
 
Second, I still had absolutely no idea if he wanted her mother.

At the auction, when Anna’s painting was sold for the highest price of the night, I died in a dim underground studio.

No one knew that the painting had stolen my inspiration.

I was the most talented painter in the Hale family, yet I lived forever in my sister’s shadow — only because our paintings always ended up strangely similar.

At first, people said it was the bond between sisters.
Later, after my sister stole my paintings and exhibited them first, I became the so-called thief who plagiarized her works, while Anna turned into a celebrated, sought-after painter.

“Hard work really is more reliable than talent.” That was what people loved to say.

Before the auction, my family locked me away in the studio.
“Don’t ruin Anna’s big night.”

My sister Anna handed me a piece of bread.
“Little sister, have something to eat. When the auction’s over, we’ll go celebrate with a nice meal.”

“Look how kind your sister is — she still worries you’re hungry.”
Mother kicked me hard.

But she never knew Anna had poisoned the bread.
After just one bite, my skin broke out in rashes, I could barely breathe, and pain tore through every part of me.

Before I suffocated, I called my boyfriend Edd.
All I got was his cold scold:
“Lily, stop playing these cheap tricks!”

To the busy beep of the phone, I took my last breath.

When they came home triumphantly, thinking I was just being moody and refusing to join the celebration, they never knew I had stayed forever in that dark, quiet studio.

My roommate put a Blood Binding Curse on me — my own bloodline power, along with every resource I receive, gets automatically rerouted straight to her.
My ex helped her set it up. For six months she lived off my bloodline playing noble princess, him always on her arm, while I walked around hollow. The harder I fought to prove myself, the more I fed her.
Then I died. Came back knowing everything.
Here's what I figured out: the curse reroutes everything I receive.
Including debt.
I went to a guild and borrowed a batch of elixirs. Opened the contract.
The debtor on the line wasn't me.

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...

My mother only ever made the bedtime tea for me. Never my brother—just me, every night, because I was the gifted one, the daughter she "worried about."
The night before the scholarship exam, my one shot at college, she brought me a cup like always.
The next day I collapsed in the middle of the test. I'd never been sick a day in my life. I failed.
Don't worry, she said. We'll try again next year. And every single night, she kept making me that tea.
Second year, I went down again. Third year, again. Three times I sat that exam, three times my body quit at the worst possible moment.
The whole town started calling me the girl who faints. The genius who cracks. The family joke.
And my brother—who copied my homework and never read a book to the end—somehow walked away with everything.
I never understood why my body fell apart every time it mattered.
This was my last chance. For days I barely ate, terrified it would happen again.
Then, the night before the exam, my mother walked in with a cup of tea…

The End Times Came, and I Awakened the Ability to Grow Vegetables

Every time I catalyzed a vegetable, it drained my stamina and life force.

But my sister Lucy needs to eat, and everyone in the camp needs to eat.

So I gave my life to the soil, exchanging life for food again and again.

Cult leader Silas patted my shoulder and said I was God's gardener, that Eden was born because of me.

I thought I had found a home.

I distributed the vegetables I grew to everyone in the camp.

Until I discovered the blue-green veins on my sister's arm.

Until I discovered that the bottle of "holy water" I fed her every day wasn't medicine at all.

Until I discovered that my sister had been sent to their altar.

Everyone thought the disfigured obsessive fan was stalking actress Sophia Brown.

No one believed I was the real Sophia.

My twin sister, Lily, slept beside my husband, Don Jason. She used my face to star in my movies. She even took over my social media accounts and posted under my name.

I wanted an explanation. But Jason only looked at my scarred face with cold disgust and said he had always thought Lily was me. He said he had fallen for her and couldn’t let her go.

Lily told me becoming an actress had been her dream since childhood. Now that my face was ruined and I could no longer act, why shouldn’t I let her have it?

The only person who stood by me was my agent, Nancy. And because of me, even she was dragged into hell.

This time, I stopped trying to prove who I was. I chose another way.

"I look better in the wedding dress. Your ugly fiancée can't compare to me, right?" "Of course, you do. You look way better."
Standing right outside the bridal fitting room, I watched my fiancé, Alexander Blackwell, hold his mistress in his arms.
The very wedding dress the woman wore was the custom-made designer gown meant for my own wedding next month.
For seven long years, I gave up my youth and poured everything into Alexander, turning him from a nobody into a tech billionaire.
He always thought I was just a helpless orphan who had nowhere else to go, blindly confident that I would never dare to leave him.
He had no idea that I was actually one of the heirs to the top-tier Sterling family in London.
When he finally realized what he had lost and desperately tried to beg for my return, I didn't look back.
Because I ran into Theodore Morrow—the city's most powerful, ruthless billionaire CEO, and the childhood fiancé whose heart I had broken when I called off our engagement years ago.

She wasn’t his weakness. She was his ruin, and he would bring the world to its knees before he let her go.


Kisarel thought she had it all figured out, until the night she caught her fiancé in bed with her cousin.
The same cousin who was engaged to her boss, the ruthless and untouchable billionaire, Mr. Oceans Stark.
Heartbroken, humiliated, and trapped on a business trip with the man her cousin was set to marry, Kisarel did the unthinkable – she begged her boss to make her forget her boyfriend's betrayal.
Oceans swore he didn’t touch his employees.
He swore his heart only belonged to a certain strange woman he'd been looking for, who saved his life so many years ago.
But the moment Kisarel kissed him, every resolution he made shattered.
And after their one sinful night together, Mr. Stark couldn't let Kisarel go. He began to do everything within his power to get her even more entangled in his web of obsession.
There were a thousand reasons she should have stayed away from him. She ignored every single one.
He knew every part of her belonged to someone else. But every part of him didn’t care.
What neither of them knows is that Kisarel was the woman he’s been searching for all along.
Now, Oceans is set to call off his wedding with Kisarel's cousin, and he expects Kisarel to also call off her wedding with her cheating fiancé.
Kisarel is now tangled in an obsession so hot that it might consume her whole. And Oceans is ready to drown his entire empire just to keep the woman he truly loves.

After the apocalypse, I built Dawnlight Base.

On an outside run, I died in an ambush—blast, fire, bullets. I watched my blood sink into the sand and thought it was over.

Then I opened my eyes five years later, living in a stranger’s body.

On a transport truck, I was locked in an iron cage with guns trained on us. The others told me who I was now: a bottom-tier gate guard, “cargo” being sold by Dawnlight to a mining camp.

They said after my death, my girlfriend took the command room, promoted her own people, broke up my old crew and stripped their weapons. Mismanagement followed. Mining rights were pawned off. Then they started selling the living.

I escaped and slipped back under the wall.

The quarantine corridor at the North Gate had collapsed and no one repaired it. A long line waited at the ration point, bowls filled with water-thin gruel.

And my girlfriend was signing papers—inviting an outside warlord into the city to “share governance.”

A week later, his convoy rolled through the gate. From the command building’s second-floor window, I flipped the signal switch.

The gate dropped behind them.

When gunfire erupted from every direction, they finally understood—

I was back.

The day before Thanksgiving, my husband, David, dragged his suitcase to the airport, claiming he was flying to Seattle to meet an important client.
My parents took my younger brother to Miami for a vacation and conveniently took my six-year-old daughter with them.
With the house empty, I picked up a last-minute catering shift that paid double the usual hourly rate. I needed the extra money to cover next month's rent and buy David a gift. So I temporarily filled in as a dinner server at a mansion in Beverly Hills.
After changing into a black-and-white uniform, I entered the employer's home through the service entrance.
The person in charge was the lady of the house—a young, beautiful blonde.
She had barely led me through the hallway toward the main room when I saw several workers hanging a massive engagement portrait on the central wall.
The man in the photograph, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, was my husband of six years.
David.
I froze where I stood, my mind going completely blank.
"Move it a little to the left. Yes, that's it. Straighten it!" the blonde girl called out to the workers.
Then she turned toward me.
"What? Can't take your eyes off it? That's my fiancé."
She looked me up and down, her voice dripping with condescending, fake sympathy.
"Working on a major holiday? I guess you're not married yet."
I closed my eyes and took a slow, deep breath. "I am. But I'll be a widow very soon."

My daughter Lily was shot dead while she was performing on her own stage.
I rushed forward to shield her, and a speaker crashed down onto my right shoulder. The bone shattered.
My husband, Vincent, “shot the gunman dead” at once and sealed off the entire opera house.
When I woke up in the hospital room, the pain almost suffocated me. My right shoulder was wrapped in thick bandages, and when I tried to raise my arm, all I felt was a numb.
“…This isn’t what we agreed on.” The doctor’s voice was low and unsteady. “We only needed her blood sample for matching. Why did it have to go this far?”
“Lily’s blood type is a perfect match. This is the best possible outcome,” Vincent said. “I married Elena for this moment. I’ve been waiting for it.”
The doctor was silent for a few seconds. “But she’s your daughter… There’s no need to sacrifice a life, even if she is a Salaceno.”
Vincent cut him off. “You know how long an artificial heart can last. Camila’s daughter won’t hold out for long. I can’t put her through another surgery.”
“Camila’s child is the one I should cherish.”
At that moment, my blood ran cold. In his eyes, my daughter was nothing but an organ container.
He had no idea. All that talk about protecting his precious daughter—she wasn't even his.

For the top university in the North American wolf packs, transfer students aren't exactly breaking news. But this one sets the entire forum on fire.

It starts with a photo. A girl standing next to a tall, imposing man. Both faces are deliberately blurred, but that build, that presence... every wolf in North America recognizes it. The Alpha King. The caption reads: "Dad why'd you send me this 😭 I'm not ready to go public yet."

Minutes later, the post vanishes. But screenshots flood the forum.

"Moon Goddess above! Is that really the Alpha King?"

"The girl in the photo... could she be the royal princess no one's ever seen?"

The comments explode. Compliments flood in. Even my aloof boyfriend joins in.

Something feels off. I type out a comment: "The Alpha King keeps a low profile. His daughter should do the same. Posting photos like this... doesn't seem right."

Less than a minute later, the replies come.

"Who do you think you are to question her?"

"Can't stand seeing someone else do well, huh?"

My boyfriend chimes in too: "Quit it. You're embarrassing yourself."

I pick up my phone and dial a number. "Dad, since when do you have another daughter?"

My husband told me our daughter was brain-dead. He put a pen in my hand and told me to sign the organ donation form. He said it was the merciful thing to do.
I signed.
Then I watched her heart get cut out and transplanted into another child — his mistress's son.
He'd been planning it for months. The fake diagnosis, the doctor who happened to be his college girlfriend, the night his mother lured me away from the hospital so they could drug my little girl.
When I found out the truth, he killed me for it.
But somehow, I woke up back at that desk. Same pen. Same form. Same lying face waiting for my signature.
This time, I'm not signing. This time, they pay.

LISA
I was supposed to hate Tobias Thomas. Everyone else did.
The arrogant quarterback with the perfect smile, the cruel mouth, and a talent for ruining lives—especially mine.
So I made a plan. My bully would fall in love with me.
He would finally understand what it felt like to be the one left bleeding.
I just never imagined I’d be the one who needed redemption too.
Somewhere along the way, I forgot revenge had an expiration date.
I fell for him too.
And for eight months, I loved the boy who wasn’t supposed to have a heart.
Until one accident erased me from his life.
Now he looks at me like we’ve never met.
Like he’s never kissed me.
Like he never begged me to stay.
Everyone says this is my chance to move on.
Maybe they’re right.
Because making Tobias Thomas fall in love with me once nearly broke me.
Making him do it again?
That might destroy me.
Especially if he ever remembers why I wanted revenge in the first place.

TOBIAS
Everyone keeps telling me I’ve forgotten pieces of my life.They’re right.
Because every time I look at Lisa…
It feels like my heart knows something my mind doesn’t.
She avoids me.
Lies to me.
Looks at me like I’m holding the weapon that ruined her life.
Yet I can’t stop chasing someone I don’t even remember.
Not when I keep dreaming about a girl whose face I can’t quite see.
Not when my hands know exactly how she fits against me…
Even if my mind insists we’ve never touched.
Something happened before my accident.
Something everyone is hiding.
And if I have to tear my own life apart to remember it…
Then that’s exactly what I’ll do.

"Will you be my mate?"

Three days after my husband's funeral, his best friend whispered those words to me.

I told myself it was a transaction.

My freedom for his protection. My heart for my survival.


I was wrong.

Fenric Silvermane was not a man who made transactions.

He was a man who took what he wanted.

And he wanted me.

He secured my place among the nobles, learned every little thing I loved, and then—

Claimed me as his Luna before the entire kingdom, with the Alpha King as witness.

No warning.

No choice.

He wove me into his world so completely, so deliberately—

Until I had nowhere left to run.

Until I stopped reaching for the memory of the man I had once called my husband.


The day of the ceremony arrived.

The great hall doors swung open, and I saw Fenric waiting at the altar, his ice-blue eyes fixed on mine.

I took a breath.

I walked toward him.

Then the doors opened again.

And the man who was supposed to be dead and buried on a distant battlefield—

stepped inside.


Soren was alive.

And his best friend had known all along.

"You took my wedding dress for my stepsister?"
My voice was ice as I stared at the man I had loved for six years—the man I had saved with my own blood, drop by drop, through years of his illness.
Atlas Brooks couldn't meet my eyes.
"She's dying, Mandy. Susie's last wish is to marry me."
Six years of devotion. Endless blood donations. And this is what I get in return?
The man I saved wants to trade me for the sister who destroyed my family.
Let him. I'm done fighting for someone who never fought for me.
But when I tried to walk away, Atlas caught my wrist.
"After she's gone," he whispered, "we can still be together. Just... let her have this."
The dress. The wedding. The man. Let her have everything.
I'm not waiting around as anyone's second choice. Not anymore.
I'm ready to say goodbye to everything.
I thought I was leaving love behind forever.
I didn't know that at my stolen wedding, I was about to find it.

My wife never knew what I really did. She only knew I was gone most of the year and money hit our account every month.

The day she cheated, she rummaged through my drawer, found an eagle-shaped brooch, and gifted it to her lover like a flashy accessory. “It’s worthless,” she said. “Perfect with a suit.” I warned her again and again to bring it back. She called me annoying, powered off her phone, and blocked me everywhere.

She didn’t know I’m a cleaner—the kind who handles quiet jobs—and that brooch isn’t jewelry. It’s an organization badge, a mark that turns you into a target the moment it appears in public.

That night, the killers came. The ballroom was sealed. She trembled under a table while her lover shoved her out to take the bullets.

When a cold gun barrel pressed to her temple and someone asked, “Who does the brooch belong to?”

Extreme cold descended suddenly, with temperatures approaching minus eighty degrees Celsius.

My girlfriend tricked me into leaving the temperature-controlled fortress I had built with all my savings. She took her whole family and her lover and took over the place, leaving me, a cripple, to be left to die in a blizzard.

They sat around my fireplace eating top-grade Wagyu beef, declaring they would watch me freeze into an ice sculpture.

But what they didn't know was that, locked out, I turned around and dialed the number of the most brutal outlaw in the apocalypse.

I don't want the billion-dollar supplies and the houses; all I want is for their whole family to be trapped in this inescapable, icy hell, unable to live or die.

They told me the baby was gone, but they didn't tell me my heart was being carved out, too.

I woke up on the operating table, paralyzed. Through my blurred vision, I saw my beloved husband, Marco, trembling with excitement as he held my medical chart.

"Her blood is perfect," he whispered. "It is a perfect match for Isabella. We can proceed with the transplant now."

"Finally. It wasn't in vain that I brought her back." My revered father let out a sigh of relief. "If it weren't for this day, how would someone who wandered outside for so many years be qualified to step into this house again?"

When my husband said "I love you," he actually meant "Your heart is perfect for the woman I truly love."

I couldn't scream; I couldn't move.

I could only watch helplessly as the silver scalpel pierced toward my chest, while my sister, Isabella, lay on the operating table next to me, smiling in her sleep.

I was never a long-lost daughter, nor was I a beloved wife.

I was just a mobile blood bank waiting to be slaughtered.

I used to be the happiest food-truck girl on the streets of Brooklyn. Spencer Grant said he loved the warmth and down-to-earth spark I carried with me.
But over the six years of our marriage, he wrapped me layer by layer in Michelin-starred rules and fussy French culinary etiquette, turning me into a flawless, cold, untouchable chef.
Six years later, he asked me for a divorce because of a girl who ran a roadside taco stand.
He said my food was perfect but suffocating, while that girl made him feel alive again.
The way his eyes lit up when he talked about her was exactly how he'd looked at me when we'd first met six years ago.
In that moment, I knew our marriage was over.

In the wasteland, I earned enough military merit to be awarded two territories by the Alliance: an industrial city and an iron mine in the frozen tundra. In my previous life, my wife's younger brother threw a fit until he got the industrial city, while my wife forced me to take the frozen tundra iron mine instead. While their whole family lived easy in the industrial city, squeezing the workers dry, I was down in the frozen tunnels, struggling to dig ore day after day. Then the acid rain apocalypse came. The industrial city was corroded and brought crashing down by the acid rain, and my wife's family ended up covered in burns and open wounds. Meanwhile, I was doing just fine inside the frozen mine shafts. Out of kindness, I sent people to bring them to my side. I never expected my wife's entire family to turn on me and kill me together. Before I died, I detonated every last stick of dynamite in the mine and dragged them all to hell with me.
But when I opened my eyes again, I was back in the Alliance office where the territories were being assigned. And this time, the first thing I heard was my wife saying, "Shut up! Give the industrial city to your brother-in-law!"

She begged her mother for $50,000 to save her daughter's life.
Her mother had it—but chose to spend $300,000 on her younger sister's wedding instead.
That was the day Evelyn walked out. No more pleading. No more coming back.
Her husband sold his father's last heirloom. Their neighbors emptied their wallets. They saved her daughter and left for a new life.
A year later, her mother's money was gone. The fraud was exposed. The mansion was seized. The calls started coming—calls begging for help, for money, for forgiveness.
Evelyn listened, then hung up.
She is not going back. Not for guilt, not for blood. The family that let her daughter die does not get to ask her for anything.

I thought my friend had returned my BMW with an empty tank.
That was annoying.
Then the car started driving like it had a safe tied to the back.
My mechanic checked everything: tires, brakes, suspension, computer codes. Nothing made sense until he opened the trunk, lifted the floor panel, and found a canvas-wrapped mass jammed into the spare-tire well.
He looked once and nearly dropped his flashlight.
“Evan,” he said, “step back and call 911.”
I had lent my car for a blind date.
Somehow, I got it back with a police investigation in the trunk.

"My sister threatens to take my mate. And I let her keep him."
Born without a wolf, Seraphina is the disgrace of her pack—until a drunken night leaves her pregnant and married to Kieran, the ruthless Alpha who never wanted her.
But their decade-long marriage was no fairytale.
For ten years, she endured the humiliation: No Luna title. No mating mark. Just cold sheets and colder stares.
When her perfect sister returned, Kieran filed for divorce the same night. And her family was happy to see her marriage broken.
Seraphina didn't fight but left silently. However, when danger struck, shocking truths emerged:
☽ That night wasn't an accident
☽ Her "defect" is actually a rare gift
☽ And now every Alpha—including her ex-husband—will fight to claim her
Too bad she's done being owned.


Kieran's growl vibrated through my bones as he pinned me against the wall. The heat of him seared through layers of fabric.
"You think leaving is that easy, Seraphina?" His teeth grazed the unmarked skin of my throat. "You. Are. Mine."
A hot palm slid up my thigh. "No one else will ever touch you."
"You had ten years to claim me, Alpha." I bared my teeth in a smile. "Funny how you only remember I'm yours... when I'm walking away."

For five years, my husband claimed he could not understand emotion.

I believed him, excused every broken promise, and taught myself to survive on scraps of attention.

Then I went to his office with news of our unborn child and heard him laughing with the woman who had helped him deceive me.

He had married me for a pureblood heir. Once the baby was born, he planned to throw me away.

He wanted an heir from a devoted wife. Instead, I gave him a funeral.

In the end-stage of acute heart failure, the life-saving heart I had waited three grueling years for was secretly reallocated by my parents and husband to Sera, the "true" daughter of the family.

My heart turned to ash. I refused the doctor's final conservative treatment plan and injected a potent, lethal neuro-stimulant.
The price for blocking the agonizing pain of my failing heart was total cardiac collapse and death in three days.

In these three days, I gave up all arguments and resistance.
When Adrian impatiently threw down the divorce papers, I signed them without hesitation; when the daughter I raised with my own hands pushed me away in disgust, hiding in Sera’s arms and calling her "Mommy"; when I handed over the Foundation I had spent eight years building entirely to Sera—they didn't even notice my paper-white face.

They only looked at me with relief and said, "If you had been this sensible earlier, our family wouldn't have gotten so ugly."

I am very curious. When I am dead, what will they think then?

My wife said she had an important client meeting, so I attended our daughter’s awards ceremony alone.
Then a neighbor sent me a photo.
Rachel was sitting in another school’s auditorium beside her college boyfriend—smiling as his hand rested on her waist.
Before I could process what I was seeing, our fifteen-year-old daughter stepped up to the microphone.
“For fifteen years, my dad has been the one holding our home together,” Lily said.
Then she looked straight at me.
“My mother left us a long time ago.”
Three hundred people thought my wife was dead.
But Lily knew the truth.
And before the night was over, she would force me to face the betrayal I had spent years pretending not to see.

Declan Voss has one semester to prove he belongs at Hartwell Arts Academy before the program drops him. Wren Calloway is the most followed student creator in the school's history and the last person who would ever give him the time of day. When a photo of them leaving the same party at the same time goes viral overnight, their school's online community explodes. Their drama teacher sees gold. So does the school's media club. Suddenly, Declan and Wren are the campus couple everyone is watching, performing staged livestreams, paired school segments, and very fake, almost-kisses for an audience of thousands. The problem is that Wren's mom just married Declan's dad. They are living in the same house. And performing a love story for the camera is a lot harder when the boy you are supposed to be faking it with is sleeping two doors down the hall and making you feel things the script never planned for.

My name is Jack Morris, a bottom-rung janitor on the docks.
Every day, people walk all over me, and I live on moldy bread.
Until one day, an old man I saved handed me a photograph. "This is my granddaughter. She's being held at the Black Swan Casino."
That used to be my place. Ten years ago.
Her father was a brother who died in my place.
I was once the king of the underground.
And now, at the banquet celebrating the tenth anniversary of my death, they're treating that old man's granddaughter like a toy.
If my disappearance only made those animals more brazen...
Then they can finish that drink and celebrate their own deaths next.

"Who are you?" I came awake with a jerk, disoriented and aching all over.
A heavy male body lay beside me---we were both naked except for the sheet covering our bodies.

Embarrassment stained my skin bright red. I searched my memories of the night before, trying to figure out how I had gotten here while attempting to wrap the sheet around my body. I stopped when I realized I'd leave my bed partner totally nude.

My skin felt too hot and too tight as I tried to work out how to get myself out of the situation.
I wasn't used to being around naked men even if I was a werewolf. We cared about propriety no matter what humans thought!

I remembered myself saying over and over, "I'm your mate!"

I eased myself off the bed to look for clothes. I tried to be as quiet as I could so I didn't wake up the stranger.

I didn't take the sheet to spare his decency, instead sacrificing my own modesty: I'd rather be caught naked than have to face a naked man I'd evidently seduced with all the subtlety of a bitch in heat!

His scent was all over me, all over everything really. Rich and masculine, every time I breathed I felt as if I was being surrounded by the forest with hints of wood and a warm spice I couldn't name. I wanted to crawl back into bed beside him and never leave.

My wolf, Rayne, grumbled in my head, "We shouldn't leave! He is our mate!"

"Take me, please." This time into his ear. He sat up some and grabbed my hips pulling me on to him harder. The deeper he went the more I lost control. I could tell he was holding back. Maybe he was afraid to hurt me. The bruises, because of what he knows about my past, He thinks he has to treat me like I'm fragile. I looked straight into his eyes. "I can take it, please, I want you to make me yours." I was begging him now. I saw his face change as he sat up and pushed my legs up higher. Suddenly he was slamming into me…


When Sandra married Ryan she thought she had married her hero. A young bright police detective on his way up. It wasn't long before she realized she was wrong. A narcissistic abusive man with the support of the city and the police department. She was trapped. Caged. Until the night of her monthly trip to the movies with the friends she was allowed. The other police detective’s wives. She saw his eyes as he leaned against the wall. A tinge of recognition as she walked past him. Then everything went dark.

I am twenty years old, he is forty, but I am crazy for the man twice my age.

"You are so wet for me, Pumpkin." Jeffrey breathed.
"Let Daddy make you feel better," I whined, arching my back against the wall as I tried to push my hips down onto his fingers.
He started to finger me faster and my mind was in a frenzy.
"Moan my name." He muttered.
"J… Jeffrey," I said, he abruptly pushed his pelvis against me, pulling his head back to look at me.
"That's not my name." He growled, his eyes were full of lust and his breath was heavy on my cheeks.
"Daddy." I moaned.