8500 Book(s) Related to KASARINLAN’S VERDICT: Stigma of the Chosen

I died on the operating table. Down the hall, my husband was waiting for news that the woman he'd loved before me had received my kidney.
He'd made that day happen. He'd forced me to end my six-month pregnancy, then give what was left of me to a woman who was supposedly dying.
Just before I stopped breathing, he was holding her hand in another room, telling her, "It's over. We can finally be together."
He never found out the surgery was a lie. She was never sick. I never woke up.
Yet the moment he truly learned I was dead, the man who swore he didn't love me clung to my ashes and completely fell apart.

My mother studied wolf decay for a living.

For three years, I'd been dying of it—and she thought I was faking.

When I begged her to sign the form for my body donation, she laughed. "You'd better actually be dying this time."

I was.

Days later, my heart sat in a glass case at the front of her lecture hall, and she taught a room full of students how to spot my disease.

She had no idea it was mine.

She had no idea she owed me her life, either. For four years, she'd been thanking the wrong daughter.

After being reborn, my cousin and I swapped mates.
Last life, she married Kaelen Thornfield — the coldest Alpha in the West. Fifty years together and he never marked her. Not once. His childhood "friend," an Omega with a PhD in crying on command, made sure of that. My cousin faded into nothing. Unmarked. Unloved. Invisible.
Me? I married a man who couldn't stand the sound of my voice. Eleven months. Done.
This time, I took the western contract. Drove three days across the country in a beat-up truck, blew a radiator in the middle of nowhere, and rolled into his pack's territory covered in engine grease and smelling like a gas station.
His little Omega took one look at me and wrinkled her nose.
She has no idea what's coming.
I don't do tears. I don't do subtle. And when some girl sobbed at my mating ceremony about how jealous she was of me — I grabbed my Alpha by the collar and sank my teeth into his neck.
In front of the entire pack.
Without asking.

I died once.

Spent seventy years as a housewife the first time around. Biggest regret? Never felt my heart race.

Met her in this life, and that's when I learned what being alive actually meant. In this world where assassins pay in gold coins and seek sanctuary at Continental hotels, we became a duo called "Swans," hunting down the man who destroyed her family. Every single day, dancing on a razor's edge.

Two years ago, the explosion killed Raven Hayes right in front of me.

To survive, I married a naive tech heir, slipped into silk dresses and started doing the charity gala circuit, tried to convince myself this was the peace I wanted.

Until that enemy became a High Table member and announced a hundred-million-dollar bounty on me to the world.

I used to be scared. Used to run. Used to ask why it had to be me.

But sitting at my vanity, staring at this stranger's face in the mirror, all done up like some socialite, I suddenly realized none of it mattered anymore.

I'm going to die eventually anyway. Might as well die looking like myself.

My sister and I married the twin Alphas. Everyone in the pack called us blessed.

When rogues attacked me five months into my pregnancy, our mates cut off our calls for help. Their stepsister needed them.

My baby died. My sister saved me, but the silver blade that struck her left her unable to shift again.

From my hospital bed, I told my husband I wanted our mate bond severed.

He ignored me for two days. Then I told him our child was gone.

His answer came at once: "Stop using our baby to manipulate me."

Ethan built me a "Relationship Assessment System." A hundred points a month. Below eighty, we break up. Above a hundred, he marries me.
I believed it. For five whole years.
For that one point, I changed my accent, threw out my work clothes, shut down the little restaurant my mother left me, and molded myself into whatever shape he wanted. But every time I scored ninety-nine, he said: "You're still a little short. Try harder."
The night of the charity gala, the head chef walked out. I called in suppliers, rewrote the menu, and saved the entire fundraiser. When the applause came, Madeleine stood there in champagne couture and accepted every word of praise as the project lead.
My proposal. My work. Brushed aside with one breezy line — "Claire helped me run some errands too."
That night, Ethan opened his tablet and gave me points.
Ninety-nine.
Still ninety-nine.
It wasn't until late at night, when I hacked into the backend, that I saw the directive set to "Auto-Execute":
Ensure the overall score cannot exceed 100.
Created: five years ago. The first day we became a couple.
There had never been a "just work harder and you'll pass." Only a fraud with its ending written in stone.
The next morning, he deducted twenty-two points. The reason: I hadn't handed over my mother's little restaurant as a stepping stone for his hotel project.
This time, I won't agree.

When I was reborn, and my Alpha husband's ward clamped a muzzle around my neck as a joke...
I didn't shift into my wolf and tear her arm off like in my past life.
I ripped off the bloody muzzle and gave Roman a smile.
"If you think this is a joke, keep indulging her."
And I walked away without looking back.
Because my death in my previous life was too miserable.
After our fallout, Roman used his Alpha authority to freeze my accounts overnight.
Exiled, I was diagnosed with terminal silver poisoning.
Dying in agony, I swallowed my pride and crawled back to the Pack gates.
But he let Chloe force me to my knees and refused to open the doors.
In the end, my wolf spirit shattered, and I froze to death.
I only understand after dying: love and dignity are worthless.
Survival and money are all that matter.

I helped Cassian conquer the seven floating cities and claim the Dragon Throne.
On the day he became king, he cast me aside for a lowborn dragon girl.
I exposed her as an Abyss spy, and she killed herself before the court.
Cassian thanked me in public, but he never forgave me for taking her away.
Years later, he accused me of serving the Abyss, slaughtered my entire fire-wing clan, and burned me alive.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back at his coronation.
This time, I'm not saving his throne. I'm burning it down.

When my roommate Sutton woke up from a wet dream, she was literally glowing. She claimed it was the most mind-blowing romantic experience of her life—the man’s silhouette, his scent, his body heat felt impossibly real.
Even crazier? When she checked her phone, there was a strange new number saved in her contacts. It belonged to the man from her dream.
While the rest of us shrieked about destiny, our moody roommate Jessamine just stared at the screen and dropped a chilling warning: "Things that come looking for you in dreams should stay buried."
We all wrote her off as a jealous freak.
That is, until I started noticing Sutton’s face growing more haggard by the day—and the fact that her "perfect boyfriend" refused to speak a single word to her.

"I, Selena, hereby formally reject Carlos as my mate."
For ten years, I had bled for the Shadow Pack.
As its Luna, I secretly used my own blood every night to maintain the protective barrier over our territory. Yet in the eyes of my fated mate, Alpha Carlos, none of my sacrifices were worth a single tear from my foster sister, Lilith.
To soothe Lilith's so-called "fragile constitution," he coldly burned the only thing my lost pup had left behind in this world.
When Lilith put on a pathetic little poisoning act, he stripped me of my Luna signet ring in front of everyone, taking away the very symbol of my status.
And on that bitter, snow-filled night when my foster mother was fighting for her life, Carlos ignored me as I knelt before him and begged. He ordered every Healer to attend to Lilith, who claimed she was suffering from "chest pain," and even locked me and my dying foster mother inside the lightless Frozen Prison.
When my foster mother's body finally went cold in my arms, the last piece of my battered heart died with her.
At dawn, when the arrogant Alpha pushed open the prison door, fully expecting to find me begging for mercy like I always had, all he heard was the sharp, unmistakable sound of the protective barrier shattering.
I destroyed with my own hands the barrier that had protected this hypocritical pack for ten years.
Then I severed the mate bond tying my soul to his without the slightest hesitation and walked away into the raging snow, never looking back.
Carlos had always believed I had nothing.
He thought I would never be able to leave him.
But he never knew that when a wolf has been trampled into the dirt and finally casts aside the weakness that held her back, even Death itself has to step aside.

Sophia and I fought over who would wear that emerald ring to change our fate.
In my first life, I claimed the emerald ring, thinking I would become a billionaire heiress.
That was until late at night, when I accidentally opened that underground iron door and he strangled me to death with a piano wire: "Your pathetic wailing isn't her at all."
Given a second chance, I backed away and let Sophia take it.
A few days later, she died in the ice cellar with her tongue severed. Right before she died, she let out a blood-curdling whimper: "A true devil is hiding behind that door!"
Waking up for the third time, we trembled in sheer terror as the ring was offered to us once again.
Just who exactly is the daughter he is looking for?

I chose the cheapest flowers in the shop because I thought my boyfriend was drowning in debt.
Hours later, I discovered he had sent his fiancée roses worth one hundred times more.
Julian Hart wasn't a struggling intern. He was the heir to Hart Group—and our entire relationship had been an experiment designed to test whether I was worthy of his fortune.
He expected me to forgive the lies.
He expected me to accept the career he destroyed.
He even expected me to come back after he refused to help save my grandmother.
Instead, I boarded a plane with another man and disappeared from his life.
Years later, the billionaire who once tested my love came begging for a second chance.

I was here because of missed periods and abnormal bleeding—a suspected threatened miscarriage.

When asked about our relationship, my boyfriend didn't even look at me.

"We're just classmates," he told the nurse.

He thought he was cutting ties with a worthless nobody so he could chase after a billionaire's daughter.

What he didn't know was... I was the heiress he was desperately looking for.

After my miscarriage, my psychiatrist husband offered to erase the painful memories to help me forget them.

During the three months I was dumped in a rehab facility, he took our daughter and his cousin on a European vacation.

Now that they're back, he assumes I’ll go right back to being that meticulous, perfect wife.

But I didn't.

He deliberately provokes me, thinking my coldness is just me playing hard to get.

He has no idea that the brainwashing procedure didn't just wash away my pain—it completely severed my love for him.

My billionaire husband handed me a pill and a separation agreement.
"Take this temporary amnesia drug. You'll forget me for a few weeks while I marry Chloe to fulfill her dying wish. Don't worry, I'll give you the antidote later."
He expected me to scream, cry, and beg him to stay.
Instead, I swallowed the pill dry and calmly packed my bags.
Day 3: I tossed my heirloom Cartier engagement ring to his mistress without batting an eye.
Day 12: I accidentally witnessed his wedding rehearsal, critiqued his recycled vows with a straight face, and left him standing there, terrified by my absolute indifference.
He thought I was just acting tough. He didn't know I was the neuroscientist who created that drug. There is no antidote.
In 21 days, all my love for him will be permanently and irreversibly erased.
But how hard will a man break when he realizes his wife is already on a one-way flight to Switzerland, and she doesn't even remember his name?

A month before we made our engagement official, Blake, the man I planned to marry, suggested taking a trip to the Rocky Mountains with his friends.

His close friend Brooke handed out bottles of bear spray she claimed had cost her a fortune.

The sickly sweet smell seemed wrong to me. I warned everyone not to use it, but they accused me of being jealous of her. To defend Brooke, Blake sprayed the entire bottle all over me in front of everyone.

That night, a crazed grizzly followed the scent straight to our campsite.

Everyone piled into the SUV. Blake shoved me back outside and locked the doors.

“Caroline, aren’t you always the one putting everyone else first? Then keep it away from us!”

Brooke curled up against his chest, smug satisfaction gleaming in her eyes.

As the bear’s fangs crushed my shoulder blade, the SUV sped away.

For three years, I had hidden the fact that I was the Carrington family’s heiress and lived like I was broke just to be with him. I had paid for the respectable life he pretended he could afford.

And all I got in return was a car door locked from the inside.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back beside the campfire on the first night of the trip.

The club is dragging everyone out to a tomb Blair Whitmore's family dug up in Egypt, and nobody asked if this was a good idea.

She even brings some so-called expert along. Everyone crowds around the dark opening, practically shaking with excitement.

I'm the only one who tries to stop it.

"There's a mechanism in there. It's dangerous. We shouldn't go in. We need to report it to the antiquities authority first."

They just laugh at me.

"God, Blair, you're unbelievable. Untouched site like this and you just land it."

"Right, and some people never say two words all semester and now they want in on the action."

My palms are sweating. They don't know I come from a family of manuscript conservators. I grew up surrounded by dead languages and schematics for ancient mechanisms. What nobody else can read, I read clearly.

The stele at the entrance is carved with Egyptian hieroglyphs, and the warning is not subtle:

Whoever enters here will lose their soul to the void, and their bones will turn to dust.

The day I closed another major deal, my fiancé, the CEO, smiles and tells me the credit and the bonus are going to the new intern.

I watch him lean in close to her, laughing, and something in me just stops caring enough to fight for it.

I sign the transfer request and ship myself off to the most useless department in the company.

What I don't expect is that a few days later, the same man who never looked twice at anyone beneath him is going to be on his knees begging me to come back.

An hour ago, at the company’s press conference, I had just helped my husband Carlisle quell the ninety-ninth scandal of his affair.
Now, he has my assistant Russell pinned against my office desk, kissing him, his hand slipping under Russell’s miniskirt and groping wildly.
In that moment, I’ve already planned the publicity spin for the hundredth time.
But I’m not sure if my dear husband Carlisle and his lover will make it that far.
Because the revenge banquet I’ve been preparing for three years is about to begin.

As the only daughter of a mafia family, I learned early that trust doesn't come cheap. When my father got sick, he gave me an ultimatum: if I want to take over the family, I have to get married first.

Everyone assumed I'd pick my childhood friend, Vincent Moretti—son of my father's right-hand man. Hell, even I thought so. Until my last life, when he left me to burn.

Father died in an ambush. I was trapped in a metal cage at an abandoned dock warehouse while flames swallowed everything. I begged Vincent for help. He stood thirty feet away, the cage key right by his feet.

"Cat, as long as your father's alive, he'll never give me the family. This isn't personal. It's business."

Sophia was wrapped around him—my so-called best friend. She smiled at me and said she'd take good care of everything.

Before I lost consciousness, I saw a figure in black charging into the flames—Elijah, the bodyguard I'd called "trash" and "a dog."

Then I opened my eyes and woke up a month before my birthday party. This time, I'm giving that position to someone who actually deserves it.

But why is Vincent on his knees at my engagement party, crying and begging me to marry him?

I accompanied my husband, Kieran, down to the Antarctic station’s underground quarantine zone to rescue an ice-bacteria sample at negative forty degrees. Halfway there, he asked me to fetch some data. I was gone for exactly three minutes. When I came back, he had vanished.
The institute staff told me I had gone insane, wandering the halls searching for a husband who had been dead for three years.
They called Kieran’s mentor, Dr. Reiner. Through the phone, the old man wept, swearing that Kieran had fallen into the deepest ice rift in Antarctica three years ago. Not even his bones were recovered.
Branded a lunatic, I was thrown into a sealed bio-containment pod twenty miles away. I became a human guinea pig. Under endless rounds of experimental drugs, my organs failed one by one until I died on that cold metal table.
Then, I blinked. Kieran was standing right in front of me, rushing me to the lab...

I'm a figure skating prodigy from one of the wealthiest families in the country. I'm also an idiot.

I believed that if I was kind enough, people would be kind in return. So I sponsored Haley Dunning, a scholarship skater on our team, and treated her like my own little sister.

The day before the NCAA qualifier, she came up to me with a sports drink, said she wanted to help keep my energy up.

I drank it. Went down on the ice with a broken leg. Drug test came back positive for banned stimulants.

Overnight, I went from the queen of the rink to the face of a scandal no one could stop talking about.

Expelled from school. Torn apart on social media. Calloway Corporation's stock in freefall.

Haley stood in front of the cameras, tears in her eyes: "Piper just wanted to win so badly. I never thought she'd go this far..."

I fell into a depression. Couldn't sleep without medication.

Then one day, she showed up at my hospital room with my boyfriend, bearing "comfort": a cup of water and a few pills: "Piper, take your meds, okay? This is all my fault for being so stupid..."

Three minutes later, I'm coughing up blood, convulsing on the floor.

Right before I died, I caught the look on her face. That sweet, innocent face. A slow, vicious smile spreading across it.

She knocked over the pill bottle and started screaming: "I grabbed the wrong ones! I mixed up her antidepressants with some old person's heart meds! I'm so stupid!"

My boyfriend pulled her into his arms. Didn't even glance at me dying on the floor: "She meant well. Piper just had bad luck."

I was poisoned to death in that hospital room.

Then I opened my eyes, and it was the day before the qualifier.

Thirty-two times.
That was how many times Tristan had "tested" me during our three years together.
When I met Tristan Bennett, we were both hiding our true identities. He never mentioned he was the Bennett family heir, and I never brought up the surname Torrente. We were just ordinary college sweethearts in Ashborne City. He said he loved me, and I believed him.
The seventeenth time: driving across town late at night to deliver documents for him, I was run off the road and crashed into a guardrail, earning nine stitches in my forehead. His first words at the hospital were, "Can't you even drive properly? You delayed my business."
The twenty-sixth time: he owed money at an underground casino. He sent me to negotiate. A gun was drawn, and a bullet grazed my arm, soaking my sleeve in blood. The scar is still there. He never asked if I was in pain; he only cared if his debt was cleared.
The thirtieth time: he asked for my entire life savings for an "emergency." He turned around and used that money to buy someone else a new car.
I thought if I endured it all, we would eventually have a future.
Until he announced he was opening a casino and demanded ten million dollars. "The ultimate test," he called it. If I passed, he’d marry me.
I refused.
He immediately bought Aurelia Gallom a twenty-million-dollar mansion. Waving the property deed in my face, he said, "Vesna, I was just testing you. It's a shame you failed. We're done."
I didn't cry, and I didn't beg. The moment I walked away, I had never felt so free. He didn't know I was a Torrente, or that my father, Dario, owned the criminal underworld of this city. And he certainly never imagined that I would later marry Silvio Marchesi—the most powerful Mafia Boss in Ashborne City—and become the Donna of the Marchesi syndicate.

My neighbor Beck Morrow was the best high school point guard this state had seen in years.
The night before the state championship—three college scouts in the stands—he decided to stay home with his girlfriend instead. She wasn't feeling well.
I called his coach.
He played. He got the scholarship. He built a company worth eight figures before he turned thirty, and I spent five years writing every algorithm that company ran on.
He repaid me by throwing a ball at my head during a training session. Then his lawyers sent a letter explaining that I had no legal claim to any intellectual property developed under my employment contract, effective immediately, and that my position was being terminated.
Then I woke up. It was the first week of senior year again.

When my fiancée’s medical exam revealed kidney failure, I prepared to sell our home—and even give her one of my kidneys.
Before sacrificing everything, I tested her with one lie.
I told her the dying patient was me.
She canceled our wedding in seconds, refused to return my money, and planned to keep our apartment after my death.
Then she picked up the report and saw the patient’s name.
It wasn’t mine.
It was hers.

I used to think I was the one he’d fight to the death to protect.
Three years ago, I changed my name, erased my past, and slipped away from a brutal family power struggle. I lived like a shadow, working at a tiny company by the docks.
Then came the accident—the gunshots, the chaos. I saved Noah, the coldest heir of the Miller Family. And he went insane over me. He put me on a pedestal: bought an entire sugar factory just to make “sweetness for me alone,” chartered a jet for a meteor shower, even walked into a kidnapping trap by himself to trade his life for mine. Everyone said he was ruthless—yet he was impossibly gentle with me.
Then I learned the truth.
Those three days every month when he “disappeared to be punished” was never for me. He was back at the old estate, playing husband to his wife… and father to their twins.
The day I caught it, I thought I’d break. I thought I’d scream, demand answers, rip everything apart.

I once thought my fate was sealed—Alpha Damien’s mate, the future Luna, the pride of the pack.
But a carefully orchestrated betrayal shattered my world.
The mate I loved chose another. The pack I devoted myself to cast me aside. The future I believed in was nothing more than a gilded cage.
When the truth was revealed, I did not cry. I did not beg. I stayed silent—then I vanished.
But my disappearance was not an escape. It was my rebirth.
The world thought I was dead. They had no idea I was only growing stronger, colder, unstoppable.
Now, I have returned.
Not as his Luna.
But as his destruction.

I’m the only princess of the Iron Claw Pack. My Alpha father chose three pure-blooded wolves from the Johnson family to grow up at my side. The man I choose won’t just be my mate—he’ll become the Pack’s next Alpha.
In my last life, I chose the younger twin, David, because he was always gentle and considerate.
But less than a year after our bonding ceremony, he died.
Only when our mate bond stirred again did I learn the truth: David had faked his death—because the one he loved was Emma.
When Rogues attacked, David threw away his life to save me, only to beg that if there were a next life, I would never choose him again.
When I opened my eyes, I was back on the day I had to choose my mate. This time, I grabbed a file at random.
It was David’s twin brother, Nate—my sworn enemy.

I always thought if I just held on a little longer, I could still keep this family together.
But my mate Ethan and my brother William poured all their favoritism onto Ava and her mother, and left me nothing but coldness and humiliation.
They could even look me in the eye and say, “She’s your sister too,” like that was enough to make me bless them.
That night, I did something so insane it bordered on self-destruction: I dragged my suitcase out the door and let the house that held all my memories get swallowed by flames.
The news exploded, our villa became ruins. The security footage showed “no one leaves,” and the police made a preliminary judgment that the person inside was “highly likely deceased.”
Ethan didn’t believe it.
Not until he and William were handed that bag of belongings at the police station, a diamond, a Blood Moonstone, the things I treasured most, did they finally understand: I wasn’t throwing a tantrum. I was really, truly done with them.
Too bad.

For Joey, I shouldered the blame for a commercial crime and survived five years behind bars—alone, even through a miscarriage.

With only five days left on my sentence, his secretary flaunted a “bonus” transfer from him—521,314—and when I left one mild comment, she blocked me.

I got released early on Christmas, wanting to surprise my husband. Instead, I pushed open our bedroom door and found Joey and Betty in our marital bed, deep in their sick little games.

And then I overheard a phone call that shattered everything: my little sister, Sansa, hadn’t died from a surgical “accident” at all. Joey had bribed the surgeon and had her heart cut out—so his mistress could gain a werewolf’s healing ability and keep having some perverted sex on bed.

He lied to me, used me, murdered my sister—and still mocked me for I was nothing without him.

What he doesn’t know is that I’m the daughter of an Alpha. I cut my family off for him once. Now I’m taking everything back—divorce,

"You're mine, June."
"I'm not yours, Mr. Macaulay."
"Not yet," he says, his voice low with certainty. "But one day, you'll understand what you mean to me."
"I belong to myself," I reply, refusing to become another woman controlled by a powerful man.
June Fontaine spent three years loving a man who never truly chose her. She gave him everything, only to live in the shadow of his ex and a love that slowly destroyed her.
Until one unforgettable night changed everything.
Heartbroken after seeing her past move on without regret, June made a reckless decision and spent one night with a mysterious stranger. She left before morning, believing they would never meet again.
Two weeks later, she walked into her new workplace and froze.
The stranger from that night was her new boss.
Adrian Macaulay was a billionaire CEO, a man who always got what he wanted. And now, he wanted her.
But June refuses to be a secret hidden behind his success. She wants to be valued, not possessed. She wants a love where she is chosen, not controlled.
Adrian never expected one night to change his life forever. Now, he must prove that she is not just the woman from one unforgettable night.
She is the only woman he can never let go.

EJ Hollen and Zenia Blackman were friends before deciding on having things get more serious between them. All EJ wanted was to be loved for who he is but Zenia was bended on true love doesn't exist and was more keen on living in the moment. She was also harboring a dark secret from EJ and when he found out, all things fell apart, including their relationship.
Would they ever love each other again?

Emily Hollen and Sebastian were high school sweethearts but a lie created by a vicious ex-girlfriend drove a wedge between the couple causing an end to their relationship.
It's now years later and they're adults. Emily is a hotelier with a passion for traveling and establishing hotels around the world. Her next destination took her to a country she wasn't familiar with and it was governed by a monarchy. What a surprise it was for Emily when she learnt the soon-to-be-king was Sebastian and he was looking for a bride to rule at his side.

Evan Hollen had it all. The looks, the charm, the girls and the CEO job position at his father's company. Jasmine Blackman was the ordinary assistant with a crush on her boss. Her day-dreaming and fantasies eventually escalated when the two shared drinks and ended up in bed together, and just when she thought she should open up to him about the way she, Evan rejected her. But Evan was only fooling himself. His feelings grew towards Jasmine but she was already looking in the direction of another man.

I received a pornographic video.
"Do you like this?"
The man speaking in the video is my husband, Mark, whom I haven't seen for several months. He is naked, his shirt and pants scattered on the ground, thrusting forcefully on a woman whose face I can't see, her plump and round breasts bouncing vigorously. I can clearly hear the slapping sounds in the video, mixed with lustful moans and grunts.
"Yes, yes, fuck me hard, baby," the woman screams ecstatically in response.
"You naughty girl!" Mark stands up and flips her over, slapping her buttocks as he speaks. "Stick your ass up!"
The woman giggles, turns around, sways her buttocks, and kneels on the bed.
I feel like someone has poured a bucket of ice water on my head. It's bad enough that my husband is having an affair, but what's worse is that the other woman is my own sister, Bella.


“I want to get a divorce, Mark,” I repeated myself in case he didn't hear me the first time—even though I knew he'd heard me clearly.
He stared at me with a frown before answering coldly, "It's not up to you! I'm very busy, don't waste my time with such boring topics, or try to attract my attention!"
The last thing I was going to do was argue or bicker with him.
"I will have the lawyer send you the divorce agreement," was all I said, as calmly as I could muster.
He didn't even say another word after that and just went through the door he'd been standing in front of, slamming it harshly behind him. My eyes lingered on the knob of the door a bit absentmindedly before I pulled the wedding ring off my finger and placed it on the table.
I grabbed my suitcase, which I'd already had my things packed in and headed out of the house.

“Remember Ella, we’ve already asked you not to run away from this place.” Tristan said in his magnetic voice. It was almost magical. I came back to my senses long enough to push them away, which took everything I had, because Nathan had me in such a tight hug.
“I told you two. Leave me alone. I’m sick of your stupid little pranks.” I said, still trying to push them off of me.
I got even more intense stares from the rest of the class during that lesson. Tristan sat on one side of me and Nathan sat on the other. Tristan was always trying to reach over and hold my hand, but I would pull it away and make it look like I was taking down notes from the teacher.
“It’s alright Ava. Just one more year until we are out of here.” I said as I was walking to my locker after class when someone pushed their elbow into my ribs and I hit the lockers that were lining the wall.
I turned to see that it was Leia. A real fan of the twins and her lackeys that always followed her everywhere.
But Leia walked really close to me and got in my face.
“You stay the hell away from the twins. Do you understand me? They’re mine.” She threatened me through gritted teeth.

When Ella moves to a small Alaskan town with her distant mother and abusive stepfather, she assumed that it would be just like any other place she had ever lived.
She longed to be back in Seattle where she felt normal, but here she starts to notice that things aren't normal at all.
When she catches the attention of a couple of very attractive twins, she becomes the subject of brutality brought on by jealousy and greed.
Will Ella stay there to subject the constant abuse or will she decide to leave and never look back. Not even if the twins beg her to stay?

All Emma ever wanted was to feel like she belonged. Put up for adoption as a child and quitting her first job because of her boss, she was desperate to navigate her young adult life.
Luckily for her, she landed a job as a live-in maid to the rich and powerful Ethan Hollen. Emma was in charge of preparing Ethan's coffee every morning and soon enough, more things started heating up between the two but there's just one problem. Ethan is engage to another woman.

“You’re mine, June.”
“I’m not yours, Mr. Macaulay.”
“You’re mine. Mine alone. Every inch of you belongs to me. I will not have another man touch you, ever,” he growls through gritted teeth.
“I’m not yours. Not until you claim me,” I fire back. “Until then, I’m just a woman who warms your bed… just like I’ll warm other men’s beds too.”
His pupils dilate as his grip tightens around my arm.
“Do not test me, June,” he says, voice low and deadly. “I swear on my life, any man who so much as lays a hand on you… I’ll rip his fingers off and feed them to my dogs.”


June Fontaine had always loved her boyfriend too deeply, giving him her heart even when it tore her apart.
For three years, she lived in the shadow of his ex, a relationship that slowly swallowed her.
Until one night changed everything, and she broke up with him.
Fueled by heartbreak and the bitter sight of her ex moving on like she never mattered, June made a dangerous, impulsive choice that threw her into the arms of a stranger she could not forget—even after she ran from him.
Two weeks later, she saw the stranger again—now richer and more powerful than she could have imagined.
In a city like Las Vegas, men like him do not chase.
They own.
And he wants her.
Obsession becomes possession. Desire becomes dangerous.
He cannot let her go. She cannot stay away.
While he falls for her in a way that feels almost forbidden, he holds back, haunted by a past that refuses to let him claim her.
But she refuses to be hidden.
She refuses to be just another secret in a powerful man’s world.

Sacha Rish is a young African American woman with a little sister to care and provide for. When their parents tragically passed away, Sacha is left all alone to care for Judy so that she doesn't end up in foster care, but Sacha's life is rough. After losing her job and her apartment, she's desperate more than ever to make ends meet and just when she was on the brink of 'rock bottom'... She meets multi millionaire Christian Alexander who gave her an offer she couldn't refuse. This offer came with activities Sacha had no experience in. And things became heated when she fell for Christian.

"Marry me and give me an heirs, but not with love! I'll give you 500,000 dollars as compensation or more." Allan Watson

Evelyn Adam is a beautiful 19-20 year old girl who has always had misfortune.

Her parents had just passed away in a plane crash. Evicted by his evil uncle from their home and seized his entire inheritance.
Living on the streets without a penny in his hand.
Worst of all, finds out that his only sister has cancer and needs a lot of money.

She needs one hundred thousand dollars to pay for her sister's illness in two days!

A desperate Evelyn Adams is forced to accept a one-year contract marriage proposal and produce Heirs for a handsome 28-year-old Billionaire named Allan Watson. The sole heir to the Watson empire that controls businesses across most of Wellington County.

Will Evelyn be able to accept?

Is Evelyn ready to be the wife of a Billionaire and give him an heir? Without love between them?

Can they fall in love with each other?

What happens when the Billionaire's ex-fiancee comes back into their lives?

What happened when Eve found out she was pregnant?

🔞⚠️Rated 18+ | Mature Content Warning
This book is for adults only. It contains explicit sex, strong language, and mature themes. Read at your own risk or pleasure.

Wet Desires:{Erotica Collection} brings you a mix of raw, unapologetic short stories where fantasies aren’t just imagined, they’re lived. Behind every door is a moment where control slips, tension snaps, and pleasure takes over.

Strangers meet with one goal. Ex-lovers face what’s still unfinished. Friends cross lines they swore they never would. These stories are fast, hot, and messy in the most erotic way.

You’ll find dominant men who don’t ask twice, women who want more and don’t hide it, and nights that blur into mornings with no regrets.

There’s no slow burn here. No holding back. Just skin, heat, and the kind of desire that won’t wait.

If you want stories that hit hard, turn you on, make you sexually aroused, leave you wanting more and breathless, Wet Desires:{Erotica Collection} is for you.

I gave him everything.
My heart, my trust, my future. Four years of love, devotion, and blind loyalty. And what did I get in return? Betrayal. Humiliation. Loss.
Simon Smith chose my sister over me… and in that one selfish moment, he shattered my world. He left me broken, alone, and with a secret wound no one could see. My son… gone. My life… thrown into chaos.
But I refuse to let him have the final say. I refuse to be the woman who waits, who cries, who begs for scraps of a love that was never mine to begin with.
Now, it's my turn to reclaim everything. My strength. My freedom. My heart. And one man steady, loyal, and unwavering is about to remind me that love isn't just about giving it's about being valued, truly cherished, and never underestimated.
Some men think they can break a woman and keep her in pieces. Some men think they can betray her and expect her to return. Simon is about to find out the truth: some hearts heal… and some never belong to him again.


"I missed you, Anika."
"I have never seen you before in my life, sir."
"You think you can just leave me and replace me? You are mine!"
"Did your mother not teach you that grabbing random strangers is wrong?"
"Anika…"
"Stay away from me."

The stranger moved closer, closing the space between him and Anna.

His hand came up, gripping her jaw and tilting her face so she had no choice but to meet his gaze.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked.

Anna swallowed hard, her pulse racing.

“Yes,” she breathed. “I want you to fuck me so hard I forget about my dickhead of a fiancé.”


Anna Hawkins was never supposed to fall into the arms of a stranger. But after walking in on her fiancé having sex with her best friend, pain drove her into the dark corners of a nightclub and straight into the arms of a man with cold eyes, inked skin, and a body that could ruin her.

Their night was supposed to mean nothing.

But unforeseen circumstances throw Anna into a brutal world of betrayal, power, crime, and possession.

She wasn’t just heartbroken anymore.

She was owned.

And the most dangerous part?

She didn’t know how to escape from her cruel fate.

Jevan Hollen was the most popular boy at his highschool. Blossom Wright was the new student who earned a scholarship to Jevan's school during their senior year. When she first laid eyes on him, she knew she immediately liked him although the fast friends she made warned her against it due to Jevan's ex-girlfriend, head-cheerleader and 'queen b' but Jevan and Blossom grew closer and eventually started dating which made his ex-girlfriend furious. She cooked up a lie and it led to Blossom and her mother getting deported.
It's years later when Blossom returned and she now has a son. And Jevan has a fiancee.

Isabel has everything—beauty, success, the perfect relationship. So why does she feel so empty? When she discovers the mystical dream realm, she finds what she’s been craving: Alexander. He’s everything her perfect life isn’t—wild, passionate, impossible. Twin flames colliding in a world where every forbidden fantasy becomes reality. And she’s done pretending to be satisfied.

“You’re not having her,” I spoke, shielding her with my body.
“So be it.” And he fired.

Six years ago, a stupid lie shattered the bond between rich heiress Zenobia Hollen and her best friend, Kyle Livingston. Now, Kyle is back—broke, regretful, and desperate for a second chance. When Zenobia needs a new personal bodyguard, he seizes the opportunity, determined to prove he’s more than the boy who betrayed her.

But forgiveness isn’t Zenobia’s strength. Forced into proximity, their past is a minefield of resentment and unresolved passion. As Kyle risks his life to protect her from real threats, the line between duty and desire blurs. Can they navigate the dangers of the present and the ghosts of their past, or will the secrets and scars they carry destroy any chance of a future? In a world of luxury, lies, and lethal intentions, some second chances come with a bullet.

The Daniels Family is that awesome billionaire celebrity family, owning the biggest conglomerate in the country. They have the fame and are portrayed as family goals, philanthropists, humble family and all.

Ruby Coker gets married to their one and only son, by arranged marriage of course. Loose ends had to be tied, acting and smiling for the camera is what she had to learn because behind closed doors, the Daniels' family might not be what they portray.

What the public sees might just be what they want them to see and not who they are. Here is a Glimpse into what happens behind the spotlight and what it means to smile for the camera.

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.

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.

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.