9056 Book(s) Related to alpha ezekiel and the moon fire

When the debate is evenly matched, it's called discourse.
When you drag a socially anxious mess who can barely string together a coherent sentence onto the judgment platform of Ivy League elites—that's public execution.
My name is Scarlett Hayes. Ten minutes ago, if anyone had told me I'd be standing in a two-thousand-seat auditorium, pointing at Arthur—the nation's debate king—and shredding his logic to ribbons, I would've told them to see a shrink.
But right now, that sketchy pink energy shot I slammed down is surging through my bloodstream like molten adrenaline.
And that logic engine—the one that's been dead for twenty years, paralyzed by fear—just roared back to life.

To save my girlfriend, I crippled my right leg, reducing myself to the lowest scum in the shelter for anyone to trample on.

In return, I watched her nestle in the leader’s arms, using perfume in disgust to mask her nausea at my festering wound. To prove her loyalty to her new lover, she coldly looked down at me and pressed the release switch, plunging my broken body into a waste pit dozens of meters deep.

Waiting below were thousands of pale, starving skeletal claws.

They thought they had simply discarded an eyesore, free to continue their comfortable lives up in the high tower. Little did they know, the Dark-Gold tier virus dormant within my ruined leg finally awakened, triggered by the scent of fresh blood.

When the endless zombie horde fell to their knees at my feet, letting out whimpers of absolute submission, I knew—it was time for me to rewrite the rules of survival in this wasteland.

The five of us were dragged into a twisted nightmare.
The game rules were absolute: Kill the Boss. All members survive. Total escape.
Luckily, we each spawned into the game with a supernatural perk.
Relying on our powers and our bond, we spent six grueling hours tearing the massive, horrific beast apart.
All we had to do was step into the extraction portal to wake up in Oregon.
My friends were screaming in victory, already planning our celebration at Voodoo Doughnuts.
Instead, I was frozen. My heart wasn't racing with adrenaline anymore; it was cold. Absolute zero.
Because my real perk tracked the Boss status.
Floating in the center of my vision, cutting through the shadows, were two lines of text that only I could see:BOSS STATUS: ALIVE.DISGUISED. The monster wasn't dead. It was standing right here, wearing the face of one of my best friends!

Married for years, I caught my husband in bed with another woman.
He had nothing at all once; it was only after being with me that he became the CEO of a company and made his fortune.
I asked for a divorce, and he flew into a rage and locked me in a dog cage.
But what he never saw coming was that I had long been ready to take my revenge.

The poor girl my family funded is known as a "clumsy sweetheart."
Before the CIF Volleyball Finals, she spiked my drink with banned stimulants.
I was reported for doping, stripped of my UCLA scholarship, permanently banned, and expelled in disgrace.
When I confronted her, she cried innocent tears:
"Scarlett, I just wanted you to have enough energy to win... I didn't know it was banned."
My boyfriend Jake wrapped his arms around her, glaring at me: "She was just trying to help! Why are you always so mean to her?"
Ruined and depressed, they came to "apologize" with bottles of hard liquor.
She fed me lethal meds when I was drunk, watching me bleed to death on the floor.
Her excuse? "I'm so silly, I mixed up the pill bottles..."
And my boyfriend testified to the police that I committed suicide out of shame.
Then, I open my eyes. I'm back to the day before the finals.

This was the thirty-third time I caught Vance and my stepsister stark naked in a hotel room.
 
He smashed a liquor bottle and drove the jagged glass toward his own groin.
 
Flying shards of glass sliced across my cheek.
 
He stared at me like I was a totally unreasonable lunatic. "Could you just let me go?"
 
Watching the blood instantly soak the bedsheets red, I felt a sudden, disorienting wave of blankness.
 
After all, during our most vicious standoff, I had floored the gas pedal and driven toward a cliff with my stepsister in the passenger seat just to force him to come home. His response? He dragged my mother in front of the car, standing right beside her, and sneered, asking if I still wanted him home.
 
Vance and I were like two beasts trapped in a colosseum, proving our existence by tearing each other apart. Neither of us would back down. Neither of us would let go.
 
But now, shielding my stepsister behind him, his eyes held nothing but profound exhaustion. "Don't hurt Lorna. I'm tired. Just let me go."
 
He was conceding. For my stepsister.
 
This tragic, belated surrender reduced my last five years of paranoia and obsession into an absolute joke.
 
My hand had been hidden inside my coat pocket the whole time. Now, my fingertips slowly relaxed their death grip on the crumpled ultrasound slip.
 
Staring at the blood-soaked bed and the way he protectively shielded her, an overwhelming exhaustion washed over me.
 
I truly didn't have the strength to play this game with him anymore. It was time to end it.

To save my dying brother, I signed a million-dollar contract: sleep with a comatose billionaire to secure an heir. My boyfriend swore it was just a harmless formality. One night. One permanently locked door. But as I nervously approached the mattress, the paralyzed heir suddenly opened his eyes. And he whispered a terrifying warning...

The floodwaters rushed into the basement, trapping my sister Isabella and me in the surging currents.

My brother, a former Navy SEAL, smashed through the window. Without a second of hesitation, he secured the rescue rope around Isabella.

"You're a good swimmer, figure your own way up! Isabella can't take the cold, I have to get her out first!"

He abandoned me and turned to hoist the rope, accidentally kicking away the only wooden crate keeping me afloat.

Once Isabella was pulled up, she reached down and slid the outer latch, deadlocking the only vent grate.

The floodwaters instantly swallowed me whole. Mud and debris violently surged into my mouth and nose. I was drowned alive.

My mom ran an exclusive underground fertility clinic. Her dark red serum smelled like rotting blood, yet the rich still lined up with massive checks for her "perfect designer embryos."
I’d watch her lock desperate young surrogates into a soundproof room. A few minutes later, the whole floor would shake.
Strangely, when the girls stumbled back out—looking entirely drained and aged by years—they would weep and kiss my mom’s hands in gratitude.
It never made sense to me.
Until the day I saw a pitch-black mass frantically clawing just beneath a surrogate's flat stomach.
I finally knew what kind of "embryos" my mom was actually planting inside them.

I gave him seventeen chances to marry me, yet he eagerly toasts with his new flame, showers her with gifts, and retreats to hotels with her.
He has forgotten that I do not have pierced ears, presenting me annually with earrings I can never wear; he has overlooked our seven-year anniversary but vividly remembers the one-year anniversary of his new lover's employment.
Seventeen promises of marriage, each one an empty promise; seven years of devoted affection, ultimately reduced to a mere laughingstock.
So I flew straight to his worst nightmare—Mexico.
And let him burn in the regret he never earned.

I died on my birthday.

While kidnappers shattered my limbs and violated me to death, my family was throwing a grand party for my sister Chloe—yes, we shared the same birthday, but only hers was worth celebrating.

I called my father for help. He sneered and hung up: "Stop using this pathetic kidnapping stunt to ruin Chloe's birthday."

I called my fiancé Mark. He said with disgust: "If you're going to die, do it somewhere far away."

In the final second before the flames consumed me, I finally understood—

I was never loved in this family.

And now that I'm truly dead, now that they've discovered Chloe hired those men to kill me, now that the truth has been exposed to the world...

Will they regret it?

Or will they, as always, continue to favor Chloe and blame everything on me—the dead one?

My fiancé of five years lent the white rose greenhouse—the one we built for our wedding—to his junior for her graduation project.
"Postponing the wedding to next year won't change anything. Elara, we've been together for five years. A few more months won't matter, right?"
He was certain I couldn't live without him, expecting me to wait around for him to cash his empty promises of marriage, just like I had countless times before.
I handed over the key, my voice flat. "She can have the greenhouse. But I'm done waiting for a five-year-old promise."
He froze for a second, then his brows furrowed, assuming I was just throwing a tantrum again. "Fine, act out all you want. I'll make it up to you once I'm done with this busy period."
Until a month later, when he scrolled through his social media feed and my wedding photos popped up on his screen.
Surrounded by a sea of white roses, I was in a wedding gown, smiling radiantly.
Staring at the screen, Julian was suddenly struck by the memory of the night I handed over that key.
My best friend, Maya, had practically gritted her teeth as she asked me:
"Didn't we agree that once this garden bloomed, you'd put on your dress and be the most beautiful bride in the world? He just carelessly gave away your wedding venue with a single sentence. What does he even take you for?"
I fought back the last bit of foolish obsession in my eyes and gave her a smile. "The wedding goes on as planned."

I found a black lace panty under my husband's car. Black lace. Definitely not mine.
Three months. That's how long he'd been telling everyone he was done with herm, telling his mom, telling our friends, telling me. I actually believed him. I thought we were finally okay.
Then I found the dash cam footage from the night before, and I heard him tell his buddy he'd never once felt anything real with me. Not in ten years. Not once.
So yeah. He came home. He just never really left her.
I didn't scream. I didn't confront him. Found her address off his phone.Brought a cake and a bottle of wine like I actually gave a damn.
Had my assistant livestream the whole thing.
The second that door opened, half a million people watched me hand him that cake.
"Surprise. Bet you weren't expecting this."

On the night of Reeve’s birthday, I drove to his family’s coastal estate with a premium ribeye and a bottle of Pinot Noir, ready to give him a romantic surprise.
But the rug was shifted three inches, and a single drop of dark blood hid in the floorboards. Before I could run, a gun barrel pressed against the back of my head.
The man was impeccably dressed and terrifyingly calm. Upstairs in my bathtub lay the corpse of his pregnant wife.
He ordered me to help him dispose of the body and cover up the crime. My only thought was to stall until my husband got home.
That is, until he spoke—and revealed the root of this massacre. Everything was my husband's fault.

My world fell apart the day I got scratched by my best friend Coralie’s cat, and she handed me that "miracle" ointment.
Rosalind, the mentor I had respected for years, suddenly turned on me, cutting all ties in a fit of rage that landed her in the hospital.
My mother, Adrienne, transformed overnight, screaming abuse and kicking me out of her house.
And Dorian, my fiancé, publicly humiliated me at our engagement party, viciously calling off the wedding.
Driven to despair, I wandered into the street and was nearly killed by a car. In the shocking clarity of that near-death moment, I finally realized the twisted truth behind everyone’s sudden, violent disgust for me...

I died in an abandoned cabin in the pack's old lumberyard.
Wolfsbane burned through my veins. Pure silver chains bit into my wrists, charring the flesh down to the bone.
The news alarmed my husband, Alistair, the Alpha of the Riven Pack. Standing over my corpse, he couldn't fathom who would torture a woman so ruthlessly on his territory. Enraged, he swore to slaughter the killer himself.
He didn't know it was me.
I had been missing for seven days. Even with everyone telling him I was gone and something wasn't right, he insisted I was just throwing a fit.
That was until his mistress, Sylvie, ran to him in tears, clutching her cheek. She claimed I had publicly slapped her and thrown my late mother's necklace in her face.
Furious, he pulled out his phone to call me, demanding I crawl back and apologize immediately.
Instead, his Beta's trembling voice came through the speaker: "Alpha, we found this phone... in the abandoned cabin at the old lumberyard."

I'm a blind girl, and I've always been close with the old lady living next door.
One day, I caught the smell of blood coming from her apartment.
Worried something had happened to her, I pushed her door open—and instantly realized my mistake.
I had walked right into a murder scene.
The killer was still there.
I had to take a chance.
Betting that my pale, sightless eyes could fool those blood-crazed ones.
I stepped into the blood-soaked room, smiled toward where the body lay, and called out,
"Ma'am, the store has oranges on sale—I brought some over for you..."

The day I was reborn, I finally saw the truth about my so-called “savior.”
He wasn’t my Fate Mate. He was a nightmare wearing a smile.
In my last life, he reached out a gentle hand to “rescue” me—only to chain me down as a breeding tool and a free maid. In the end, even our own son despised me, sneering that I was worthless because I couldn’t hand over one million. I died alone on the streets, abandoned and humiliated.
This time, at the same crossroads, I ran into him again. His voice was as soft as ever:
“Miss, you look weak. Let me help you.”
But the moment I heard it, my blood turned to ice. My wolf roared inside me—Don’t let him touch you!
“Don’t touch me!” I stumbled back, trembling but unyielding.
He only smiled, but in his eyes shadows stirred.
“Darling, don’t push yourself. Being late for work won’t kill you.”
But I knew better. If I let him close, if I let him chain me again—my fate would replay in the same nightmare loop.
Not this time.
In this life, I’ll rip away the mask.

At the family dinner, a Wall Street rising star flaunted his power in front of me, boasting that he was the chief agent of the "Godfather of the Underworld."
My ex-wife's family fawned over me like dogs, pointing their fingers at me and taunting, "You spineless, gigolo trash, you're not even worthy to carry Mr. Victor's shoes!"
Victor, even more smug, turned on speakerphone, trying to use my privileges to curry favor with my wife.
I stood silently in the corner, coldly pressing a blood-red command: [Permanently Delete Account].
The next second, the system's cold pronouncement came through his phone: "Warning, you have overstepped your authority and have been banned across the entire network!"
The room fell silent instantly.
They had no idea that I was the true Godfather, the one who controlled a multi-billion dollar empire and ruled the Western underworld!

In my past life, I died in a freezing, damp basement.
The person who destroyed me was Evelina, the daughter of my father’s mistress. She set a trap at a charity gala, dragged my reputation through the mud, and forced me into a hellish marriage—all so she could strip away everything that rightfully belonged to me.
When I opened my eyes again, I was twenty-two. The gala that sealed my fate was happening tonight.
Before the banquet officially began, I seamlessly swapped two champagne flutes, handing her meticulously woven trap right back to her. When the scandal detonated, sending shockwaves through the ballroom, my eyes landed on Killian—the Vance family's notoriously cold-blooded illegitimate son.
The trust fund my mother left me was still firmly under my control. I walked straight up to him and laid my chips on the table.
My enemies had retreated to the shadows, waiting to strike back. But I was going to use their own conspiracies as stepping stones, clawing back everything I owned, one piece at a time.

Arriving in a strange world filled with cultivators, Chu Che suddenly becomes the owner of an Entertainment system... Specifically, he becomes the owner of an Entertainment Park.
[Chu Che: What? I get to own an Entertainment Park in another word?
Author: Zip It MC. I'm talking.
Chu Che: ("")] ....
The young Chu Che begins his rise to the top.
And along his path, he becomes a legendary master who countless people dare not offend.
[Emperor Hoshi]: Hahahahahahaha! I've just broken through after watching the 7th season of one piece! As expected of the entertainment park!"
[The Great Elder Pei Mo]: "Damn You Park Owner! How can you close the park now? I was just about to rank up in the Elder Scrolls game!"
[Fairy Wei Wei]: "This game is too much! How can I fall into a pit of snakes just like that? No way. I'm not reconciled! I, Fairy Wei Wei, must become victorious in this game of snakes and ladders."
[Goddess Laila]: ... ~Oooooooooo! Why is it so tragic? What happened to senior John Snow? How can he be dead? Owner, you go in there and save him now!"
(--)
...
The mighty Chu Che opened an 'Anime, Gaming, & Fantasy Entertainment Park, which shattered the reality of many and led to the rise of countless experts.
Thus, the young man became the most invincible man to all.
.
Thank you, everyone!
I will post daily, so stay tuned!
......

At minus sixty degrees Celsius, my girlfriend of three years and my childhood friend teamed up to push me out of the bomb shelter and beat me to death in the snowstorm.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back fifteen days before the extreme cold arrived, and my phone had a new "Doomsday Farm" app.

Rapidly growing mutant crops and an infinitely large, temperature-controlled warehouse became my biggest trump card for rebirth.

Faced with two people who came with luggage under the pretense of "accompanying me" but actually plotted to seize the property rights of my underground research institute, I calmly turned them away, sold all my properties in the city, and headed straight for the suburbs with a huge sum of money.

Within fifteen days, I welded the abandoned research institute into a heavily insulated steel fortress.

When the epic cold wave arrived ahead of schedule, those who had betrayed me were trapped in an old apartment without water or gas, tearing each other apart over a tattered quilt.

I'm sitting in a 20-degree underground farm, eating hot stewed beef, drinking hand-drip coffee, and quietly watching them on the monitor slowly turn into ice sculptures.

In this life, having let go of my desire to help others, I simply want to live comfortably in this Ice Age.

Ethan interposed his finger on her lips and gently silenced her. "Shh, babygirl," he cooed, "It's alright. I am here now." And without warning, he strode over to his desk and, in one fluid motion, bent Ava over it.
He lifted the exquisite gown, exposing her lissome frame and revealing her slender legs. With a primal instinct, he used his teeth to rip off her panties, relishing the sound of the fabric tearing. Her scent, a mix of jasmine and musk, was alluring, and he could feel his arousal growing with each passing moment.
He traced back up her spine with his lips, teasing her with light feathery kisses. With one hand, he reached down between her legs, caressing her clitoris, his fingers moving in slow, circular motions that made her lose herself. The way she responded to his touch was electric, and it made him crave her even more.
Will they continue their secret affair after a family member threatens to expose them? What happens if Ava's fiancé and Ethan's wife find out?
What will Ethan do when both his wife and mistress discover that they are pregnant?
Is he the father?

As I collapsed in a pool of my own blood, the mate-link deep in my mind flared with the thoughts of my Alpha husband, Cullen:
 
'I only had my men give Ayla ten lashes to let Selena vent her frustration. How is she bleeding this much?'
 
'She must be using fake blood again, trying to guilt-trip me into coaxing her.'
 
What he didn't know was that those ten lashes had claimed the life of our two-month-old unborn baby.
 
Nor did he know that I had just been diagnosed with terminal Wolfsbane Necrosis. I had permanently lost my werewolf healing abilities.
 
This wasn't the first time he had hurt me for Selena's sake.
 
When Selena suffered from insomnia, he extracted my heart's blood to use as her cure; when she needed to vent her temper, he turned a blind eye as his guards held my head under the freezing waters of the icy lake.
 
And this time, Selena had caused an absolute catastrophe, provoking a savage pack of rogue wolves.
 
Cullen looked down at my curled-up, trembling form, his tone leaving no room for argument:
 
"Since you are the Luna, you should bear the responsibility. Go to the rogue camp and take the fall for Selena."
 
"With a werewolf's physique, taking a beating won't kill you."
 
He didn't know that Selena had already bribed those rogues to torture me to death.
 
But I didn't cry and beg for myself like I usually did. I simply leaned against the wall and forced myself to stand.
 
"Fine. I'll go."
 
For a split second, a flash of astonishment crossed his eyes. He had no idea that those words were my final goodbye to him.

Five years. That's what I gave Vaelor, Crown Prince of the Dark Elves.
I was already dressed for the betrothal ceremony when I caught his voice through the gap in the council hall door.
"You're really going through with it? The human?"
"Of course. The Alliance has kept a blade at our throats for years. Their leader's apprentice, given to us in marriage—that puts it away."
"But if she suspects—"
"She won't."
"And Lyseth—"
"Lyseth is who matters. The human is manageable."
I didn't make it out of the courtyard. A blade came from the darkness before I could summon a defense.
When I woke up, I remembered everything. Aldric. Isara. The Alliance. Five years of roads, every step.
Just not his face.
Aldric's messenger stone was on the nightstand. Short, direct: Return to the Alliance. Political marriage. Orc Royal House.
I wrote back: Seven days.

Trigger/Content Warning:
This story contains mature themes and explicit content intended for adult audiences(18+). Reader discretion is advised.
It includes elements such as BDSM dynamics, explicit sexual content, toxic family relationships, occasional violence and strong language.
This is not a fluffy romance. It is intense, raw and messy, and explores the darker side of desire.


“Take off your dress, Meadow.”

“Why?”

“Because your ex is watching,” he said, leaning back into his seat. “And I want him to see what he lost.”

••••••••••••*
Meadow Russell was supposed to get married to the love of her life in Vegas. Instead, she walked in on her twin sister riding her fiance.

One drink at the bar turned to ten. One drunken mistake turned into reality. And one stranger’s offer turned into a contract that she signed with shaking hands and a diamond ring.

Alaric Ashford is the devil in a tailored Tom Ford suit. Billionaire CEO, brutal, possessive. A man born into an empire of blood and steel.
He also suffers from a neurological condition—he can’t feel. Not objects, not pain, not even human touch.

Until Meadow touches him, and he feels everything. And now he owns her. On paper and in his bed.
She wants him to ruin her. Take what no one else could have. He wants control, obedience… revenge.
But what starts as a transaction slowly turns into something Meadow never saw coming.

Obsession, secrets that were never meant to surface, and a pain from the past that threatens to break everything.

Alaric doesn’t share what’s his.
Not his company.
Not his wife.
And definitely not his vengeance.

He made sure he protected her, till she got on her feet again.

I loved Finley for two years.
Until 1:00 AM on a Tuesday, when his best friend, Orion, sent me a half-naked photo and a jarring voice note."
If I actually bag her, don't go flipping out on me. A deal's a deal."
I booked the first flight out to confront him, only to catch the boy I loved naked and thrusting into another woman.
But that wasn't even the part that broke me.
When my roommate bypassed the hockey team's private Discord server, I found a channel named: #locker-room-bets.
There was my boyfriend, typing the words that shattered my world: "She's boring... She's like a lost puppy, you can't shake her... Play with her all you want."
My loyalty and two years of my life were nothing but a sick joke.
The entire hockey team had put money down on when I would willingly spread my legs for his best friend.

My brother chose my enemy, and the man I loved joined forces with her to sell me into a club.
Pregnancy, miscarriage, imprisonment, beatings—every cry for help I made was dismissed as "just an act."
It wasn't until I was truly dead that they lost their minds, dropping to their knees at my grave and sobbing that they were sorry.
But by then, I could no longer hear them.

Sofia is an eighteen-year-old who has been bullied and tortured her whole life. When she realized that her only hope of going through school was to attend a school only for boys, she took a bold step and cut her hair to look like a boy and got into Blairwood Academy.

She has to try her best to make sure nobody finds out her real identity, or she would be kicked out. But it's difficult to hide it, especially from her roommate, Scott Blackwood, an icy nineteen-year-old who she always managed to get on his bad side.

I was reborn, back to the moment before I was dragged to death by motorcycles in the wasteland.

In my previous life, I listened to the moral blackmail of the saintly female lead Daisy and used my abilities to desperately save a motorcycle gang surrounded by zombies.

As a result, I was severely injured from ability overexertion, and these ungrateful wolves used me as a tool to establish dominance, dragging me to death with motorcycles across the wasteland.

Before I died, Daisy was still there crying: "We tried our best, this isn't our fault."

Now that I have a second chance, she stands before me again shouting:

"Cole! What are you standing there for? Go save them! Those people are going to die! You have abilities, you must save them!"

Looking at her hypocritical saintly face, rage burned in my chest.

Why should my abilities save ungrateful wolves? Why should my life be a stepping stone for others?

The kindness of fools is worthless!

So I threw her out to feed the zombies!

On the execution platform, my noble and beautiful wife used her dagger to carve open my chest.
My nominal adopted son pressed a red-hot iron into my skin, branding me with the "F"-class mark of the lowest outcast, draining my transcendent bloodline dry.
"The Storm Kingdom has no use for a cripple with zero beast-spirit affinity. You belong rotting in the abyss!"
They cut the chains and kicked me into the Black Abyss—a place from which no one returns—then turned to carve up my throne.
They thought I was as good as dead.
They had no idea that the deepest darkness of that abyss harbored the most terrifying ancient demon in existence.
Two weeks later, as they raised their glasses to toast the new king's coronation, I kicked down the castle gates, wielding the ember-fire of annihilation and a tide of ten thousand beasts.
Looking down at the woman who once stood so high above me, now groveling in the mud and begging for mercy, I tossed the bloodstained broken blade onto the hem of her dress:
"Remember this forever—it was you who took a nobody you crushed beneath your feet and turned him into a king you'll kneel before and never win back. Now, hand over your lives."

In her previous life, after her parents died in a car accident, her eldest brother took in the daughter of the driver who caused the crash just to save face. To keep up the pretense of fairness, her brothers drained Lily Roberts of all her resources, trampled on her dignity, and poured everything into supporting the driver’s daughter. Lily gave her all to her brothers, only to be kicked out of the house and die a miserable death.
Reborn, Lily Roberts cast aside all her tendencies to help others. No forgiveness, no reconciliation—let them cling together; she’d thrive alone.
Her brothers all thought she was just throwing a tantrum and would slink back within three days.
But three days turned into another three, and then another. Her brothers couldn’t sit still anymore.
Eldest brother: “Why has my health been so poor lately? Because Lily stopped sending me tonics.”
Second brother: “Why does the company’s firewall keep failing? Because Lily isn’t here to maintain it anymore.”
Third brother: “Why is the drug research and development progressing so slowly? Because Lily no longer volunteers as a test subject for the drugs.”
Fourth brother: “Why are these scripts so terrible? Because Lily stopped writing them.”
Fifth brother: “Why is this prosthetic limb so useless? Because Lily isn’t the one who custom-made it anymore.”
Sixth brother: “Why does the eSports team keep losing? Because Lily quit.”
Her brothers knelt on the ground, begging for forgiveness. “Lils, come back! We’re family—blood is thicker than water!”
Lily Roberts slammed the severance of kinship agreement in front of them, scoffing coldly. “Cars hit the wall and you finally know to swerve? Stocks soar and you rush to buy? Get sentenced for your mistakes and you suddenly regret it? Sorry, I don’t forgive.”

When her half-sister stole her fiancé, scarred her face, and threw her from a skyscraper, Amelia thought it was the end—until fate gave her a second chance.
Reborn with bitter clarity, she vowed not to repeat the same mistakes. In her past life, she had been kind to a fault; now, she would wear a mask of innocence to outmaneuver every snake in the grass.
One by one, she tore down their schemes—leaving her treacherous sister begging, her stepmother pleading, her worthless father groveling, and her ex-fiancé crawling back.
Her response was a cold smirk and two words: “Get lost.”
But the one thing she never anticipated was crossing paths with Damien Taylor—the most powerful and untouchable man in the capital—on the very first day of her new life.
They said he was ruthless, ice-cold, immune to any woman’s charm. Amelia believed it… until she learned the truth: the man was dangerously cunning.
“Miss Johnson, I saved you. How about dinner?”
“Miss Johnson, I helped you. Don’t you owe me a favor?”
Backed against the wall, Amelia felt his low voice vibrate through her:
“You owe me too much, Amelia. It’s time to pay up—starting with you.”
Only much later would she realize… she’d been owing him all along.

Soft hot lips find the shell of my ear and he whispers, "You think I don't want you?" He pushes his hips forward, grinding into the back of my ass and I groan. "Really?" He chuckles.

"Let me go," I whimper, my body trembling with need. "I don't want you touching me."

I fall forward onto the bed then turn around to stare at him. The dark tattoos of Domonic's chiseled shoulders, quiver and and expand with the heave of his chest. His deep dimpled smile is full of arrogance as he reaches behind himself to lock the door.

Biting his lip, he stalks toward me, his hand going to the seam of his pants and the thickening bulge there.

"Are you sure you don't want me to touch you?" He whispers, untying the knot and slipping a hand inside. "Because I swear to God, that is all I have been wanting to do. Every single day from the moment you stepped in our bar and I smelled your perfect flavor from across the room."


New to the world of shifters, Draven is human on the run. A beautiful girl who no one could protect. Domonic is the cold Alpha of the Red Wolf Pack. A brotherhood of twelve wolves that live by twelve rules. Rules which they vowed could NEVER be broken.

Especially - Rule Number One - No Mates

When Draven meets Domonic, he knows that she is his mate, but Draven has no idea what a mate is, only that she has fallen in love with a shifter. An Alpha that will break her heart to make her leave. Promising herself, she will never forgive him, she disappears.

But she doesn’t know about the child she’s carrying or that the moment she left, Domonic decided rules were made to be broken - and now will he ever find her again? Will she forgive him?

Jessica Southern believed that love could conquer anything—even betrayal. So she staged a reckless kidnapping to test Alan Knight, the man who had adored her for fifteen years. But when he chose his fiancée over her, Jessica was left behind to die in a fiery explosion.

Everyone thought she was gone forever. No body. No funeral. Only scandal and shame.

Four years later, she walks back into his life—alive, beautiful, and carrying secrets that could shatter the perfect world he's built with her cousin, the woman he was supposed to marry.

Now torn between guilt and obsession, Alan refuses to let Jessica go again. He wants answers, revenge, and most of all... her.

But Jessica didn't come back for love. She came back to reveal the truth—and to make them all pay.

When love turns to hate, and hate becomes obsession, can two broken hearts survive the fire they started?

Hazel Foster had been married with Rayan Kingston for three years. Even though Hazel knows that Rayan had only married her because her face looked like his dead girlfriend Evleyn Hamper, she still tried her best to maintain her marriage, because she loved him and believed that maybe one day he also fall in love with her.
However, one day Rayan's ex-girlfriend sister's Oliver Hamper kidnapped Hazel and she almost lost her life, but her so-called husband didn't even come to visit at hospital even once, but asked his assistant Simon to warn Hazel not to cause trouble for him.
Hearing assistant's words, Hazel heart turned cold. Just then her phone buzzed. Olivia had posted a new photo on Instagram.
In the picture, Rayan was carrying her upstairs in his arms—like a scene from some romantic movie. You couldn’t see his face, only his back, but Hazel knew that silhouette anywhere. After three years of marriage, she could recognize him by the way his shoulders moved. That was her husband. The man she’d once believed was hers.
The caption read:
“Twisted my ankle, and someone insisted on carrying me.”
Below, the comments flooded in:
“So sweet!”
“Couple goals!”
“Perfect together!”
Hazel’s hands trembled. Tears stung her eyes. While she’d been fighting for her life, her husband had been playing lover to another woman.
She wiped her tears away quickly. He wasn’t worth it. Not a single drop.
Without hesitation, she called her friend. She didn’t explain much—just asked her to prepare divorce papers. She realized that it was time for her to leave this so-called marriage.


At the courthouse.
Hazel held the divorce certificate and left with her held high. Rayan looked at her back, and sneered, thinking she will certainly regret it and come to him soon.
However, what he didn't know was that the one who was going to regret was not her, but him.

On my third anniversary, a stranger's text saved my life but shattered my perfect marriage. My husband is sleeping with my best friend, and my mother-in-law runs a criminal empire.
Trapped in a web of lies, I turn to a cold, powerful lawyer for revenge. I will fake a pregnancy, gather evidence, and destroy them all.
But who is the mysterious stranger guiding me? And what does the lawyer really want?

On the day of her grand engagement, she was betrayed by her fiancé and stepsister and died in a cruel setup. But fate gave her a second chance.

Reborn as a sharp, fearless woman, the once naïve heiress is back for revenge. Those who hurt her will pay—one by one.

Armed with financial brilliance and a ruthless heart, she rises to the top of the business world. But she catches the attention of a powerful CEO who is even more dangerous—cold, calculating, and determined to make her his wife.

Two masterminds collide in a fiery romance filled with schemes, passion, and payback. In this game of love and power, only they are worthy opponents—and perfect partners.

On the eve of my wedding, I’m kidnapped alongside my stepsister. With a gun to my head, the kidnapper forces my fiancé to choose: her or me. He chooses my stepsister.
Abandoned by my family and stripped of everything, I’m left with nothing.
But then, Dominic Voss, the cold-blooded leader of a dark organization, saves me. “I fell for you at first sight,” he declares. “Be my woman, and I’ll help you get revenge.” With no other options, I agree.
Unexpectedly, Dominic treats me as his one and only, showering me with love and devotion. He confronts my family troubles, punishing my irresponsible father and wicked stepmother.
With his support, I rise from a struggling dancer to a world-renowned artist.
When my ex-fiancé tries to win me back, he’s met with a shocking sight: Dominic publicly proposes!
“Chloe, you’ve loved me for so long…” he begins. I ignoring him, kiss Dominic deeply and respond, “I was blind before, choosing the wrong man, but now I have my true love. Stay away; my husband might just kick your ass.”
Continuously updating, with 2 chapters added daily.

“You’re just a housewife with no job—you’d never dare divorce Dad!”
Her own son—— Sean Stuart said it.
And for seven years, Seraphine Lavien believed staying silent was love.

Once a rising star in fashion, she gave up her career to marry into wealth—to care for a demanding husband and their fragile son.
But her sacrifice earned only contempt:
Her designs stolen… and he said nothing.
Her pain ignored… while he praised another woman’s work.
Her name mocked as “the wife who doesn’t belong”… and still, he stayed silent.

Charles Stuart's silence broke her.

So she walked away—and rebuilt herself from ash to icon.

Now, as an award-winning designer commanding runways from Paris to New York,

she’s untouchable.

Until the man who let her burn alone shows up at her show, desperate:

“Please come back…”

“You look like her,” my father whispered, forcing me into my twin sister’s wedding dress, but he didn't warn me that I was marrying a monster.

My twin sister ran away, leaving me to marry Luciano Moretti, a ruthless Mafia Don. I walked down the aisle, trembling, praying he wouldn't notice the switch. But the moment he kissed me at the altar, his tongue invaded my mouth, demanding and possessive, tasting me like I was his property.

I thought I could hide the truth. But on our wedding night, he walked out of the bathroom wearing only a towel, water dripping down his sculpted abs and the distinct V-line that pointed to his heavy manhood.

He cornered me against the bed. “You smell different, wifey,” he whispered, his hand sliding up my thigh, his thumb brushing dangerously close to my wet heat.

I tried to push him away, but the next morning, he decided to test me. He pushed a plate of peanut butter bagels toward me—food that would kill me, but was my sister's favorite.

“Eat,” he commanded, his eyes dropping to my chest where my nipples were hard against the silk robe. “Or do you want me to feed you something else?”

His gaze darkened, shifting to my lips, and I knew he wasn't talking about food. He knows I'm a fake. And he’s going to enjoy every second of punishing me for it.

ARDEN: I always thought getting accepted into Elite Order Academy would finally make my family proud.
Perhaps then they would stop controlling my every move. Maybe my brothers would stop resenting me. Perhaps I wouldn’t feel so invisible anymore.
No one believed I could do it—not even my mate, Alpha Jaxon Trevane.
The night I planned to tell him... I found him tangled in bed with my best friend.
Heartbroken and humiliated, I left everything behind and went to Elite alone.
But the academy isn’t the fairytale I dreamed about.
Beneath the grand halls and traditions, a brutal game is being played.
The four ruling Alphas of the North, South, East, and West fight for power, dominance... and now, for me.
A virgin. Untouched. Unclaimed. The prize they all want.
There’s the mate who shattered my heart and swears he’ll win me back.
The brilliant strategist who wants me as his Luna.
The dangerous playboy who promises no one will ever touch me but him.
And the cold, possessive Alpha who watches from the shadows—and would destroy anyone who dares to take me from him.
But in a place where love is a battlefield and lust is a weapon... falling in love might be the most dangerous thing I ever do.
Welcome to Elite Order Academy—where every desire has a price, and my body is the ultimate trophy.

Book 1- Ten years ago Charlotte fell in love.
Seven years ago she made a terrible mistake that would rip them apart forever.
Now, she's just trying to rebuild her life.
Moving into the safe neighbourhood was meant to be the start of something great, and it was right up until she realised The Lost Reapers MC were her next door neighbours.
Bikers were bad news… everyone knew that.
Everyone it seemed but Charlotte herself, who finds herself undeniably drawn to not one but two bikers.
But who will she choose and more importantly will she even get the chance to?
Because the past is about to catch up with her and her two hot bikers might not be able to save her in time.
**contains the following themes
MMF
Why Choose
Explicit Sex
Violence and SA (not between main characters)
Forbidden romance

Book 2- Daisy in Chains
*** contains the following themes
Explicit sex
Grumpy/sunshine
Age Gap
Violence, ☠️, and talk of SA (not between main characters.

Book 3- Runaway Muse
*** contains the following themes
Explicit sex
Opposites attract
Secret identity
Grief and Violence (both on and off the page)

Cover Design- RJ Creatives
(No ai was used in any part of the production of this

Fraser is the billionaire heir to a bloodless empire.
Bellamy is the illegitimate daughter his stepmother abandoned.
A deal bound them together.
Six years of obsession, silence, and need.
She thought she could walk away. He made sure she couldn't.
But when enemies tear them apart -
She loses her sight.
He loses his memory.
Their love is erased.
Until his soul remembers what his mind forgot.
And she dares to love him again -
Even if she has to fight the world to do it.

Amaya Gilbert thought winning a full ride to the hyper-elite King’s College was her ticket out of her toxic family's shadow. Instead, she walked straight into a golden cage ruled by the Marcello twins—the untouchable brothers who get everything they desire.

Alec Marcello: The arrogant, tattooed hockey star. To escape a forced marriage to Amaya's cruel sister, he forces Amaya into a public fake relationship. He wants to use her as his shield, and he doesn't care about the chaos he leaves behind.

Kai Marcello: Alec's brilliant, quiet, and lethal twin. He operates in the shadows, and he completely disapproves of his brother's game. His ultimatum? Fake date my brother in public, but be my real girlfriend in secret.

Now, Amaya is trapped in a scorching, high-stakes double deception:

By day: She belongs to the reckless hockey god who flaunts her to the world.

By night: She belongs to the dangerous bad boy who claims her in the dark.

He owns the school. I just survive in it.

Matt was supposed to be my safe place.
My best friend. My maybe-someday.
Until he chose her—the girl who’s bullied me for being poor, curvy, and unwanted since day one.

Now he’s dating her, and I’m left with nothing…
Except rage.
And a deal I never saw coming.

Lucien Knox Ravenscroft is danger in a tailored uniform—the son of a trillionaire, heir to Ravenscroft Academy, and the guy every girl wants. He also happens to be her ex.

And nobody dumps him.
Especially not for some millionaire’s son.

So when he offers me a deal—a fake relationship that puts us front and center—I say yes.
He wants revenge.
I want Matt to regret ever choosing her.

But then comes the bet.
If Matt notices me again, I win—and Lucien will help me ruin her.
If not… I’m his. For as long as he wants me.

Now the whole school is watching.
My father works for his powerful, monstrous dad.
My crackhead mother is a secret buried deep.
And Lucien?
He doesn’t believe in soft. He plays dirty.

And the more we fake it, the more real it feels.

This isn’t love.
This is war.

No one fakes a relationship with Lucien Knox Ravenscroft… and survives it whole.