9628 Book(s) Related to bride to the cursed triplet alphas

The day the butler of Sterling family came to claim me, the folks back in my dusty hometown lined the streets with tears in their eyes, waving goodbye like I was headed somewhere better.
The moment I stepped into that mansion, armed guards pinned me down in the first-floor medical suite, demanding I donate bone marrow to their precious adopted daughter, Celeste.
I responded by ripping out Celeste's dialysis machine.
My biological parents, Richard and Eleanor, went ballistic. They locked me in the attic storage room to "reflect on my behavior."
That night, while the house slept, I crept down to the basement and twisted open the main gas line valve.
I was halfway through rigging a candle delay fuse when the thermal imaging system caught me. Armed security tackled me before I could finish the job.
They'd had enough. They blindfolded me, tossed me onto a private jet like garbage, and flew me overnight to the most notorious hellhole in America—Deadwater, Texas.
The car had barely stopped in front of the bullet-riddled town sign when Richard leaned in with a cold warning:
"Listen to me. These people don't show mercy. An ungrateful brat like you? Three days, tops, before they pick your bones clean."
Eleanor stood beside him, dripping with fake concern:
"Willa, just agree to donate your marrow to Celeste, and you'll still be a Sterling. Stay here in this godforsaken wasteland, and you're dead."
I spat blood at her shoes. Eleanor's mask shattered. She ripped off my hood and shoved me hard into the dust.
I pushed myself up slightly, staring coldly at the yellow sand beneath my hands, and shook my head.
I squinted up at the familiar landscape—the rusted water tower, the butcher shop with skinned hogs hanging in the window, the faint smell of gunpowder in the air.
Funny. Nobody ever told me that the place I'd spent twenty years calling home was what rich people called "Deadwater."
Well. Since I'm here anyway.
Nobody's leaving this town alive today.

They all thought I was just a rogue soldier who had crawled back from the border, covered in gunpowder and looking for revenge for my family's old debts.
Everyone was guessing which building I would blow up next. Julian, as I expected, panicked.
He recalled all his elite personnel to the Vientiane Building, activated top-level security, practically turning the entire office building into an impenetrable fortress, and sealed off assets globally to prevent my "illegal theft."
But he made a mistake.
When he personally pressed the reset lock, attempting to regain control of the system through manual verification, he didn't hear the prompt of command execution, but rather the hydraulic hum emanating from the building's load-bearing walls—it was the "self-destruct program" he had personally signed, running as scheduled under the guise of my privileges.

We were ambushed by rogue wolves and chased all the way to the cliff's edge.
Caleb—my mate, Alpha of Ravenrock Pack—was covered in blood, barely strong enough to carry one person across the chasm.
Forced by the alliance marriage between our packs, he ultimately chose me.
Laura was left behind. The feral rogues tore her apart, piece by piece. They didn't even leave a body.
Three days later, Caleb acted as if nothing had happened and completed our mating ceremony on schedule.
After the wedding, he stripped me of every dignity of my position as Luna. He treated me like a prisoner, a punching bag for his rage, making me pay for Laura's brutal death.
When I learned that my entire pack had been slaughtered, I was locked in a freezing dungeon, wanting nothing more than release.
I used the last of my strength to rip apart our mate bond. But Caleb, driven completely mad, tore me to pieces with his own hands.
When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day of the rogue attack.
This time, I chose to step back and give the one he truly loved a chance to survive.

When he was alive, Owen loved me so much he’d give his life for me. Yet, as for his death, I was as cold as a mere bystander.
At the funeral, his family slapped me, clawed at my throat, called me a man-eating black widow. Every last one of them turned on me, eyes red, demanding the same thing: Who killed Owen?
I didn't say a word.
My ten-year-old son went into cardiac arrest right there and was rushed to the ER — and still I said nothing.
Not until that voice cut through the crowd.
"I killed Owen."
I slowly raised my eyes.
After staying silent for so long… maybe it was finally time to tell the truth.

At 2:17 AM, six weeks postpartum, new mom Harper thought she was just responding to her baby's crying. Instead, she discovered her husband Kieran and their live-in nanny Anya in the most intimate embrace—right beside her daughter's crib.
In her most vulnerable moment, in what should have been the safest space in her home, the two people she trusted most were betraying everything sacred about motherhood and marriage. Worse yet, they thought she was just another "baby-brained" mom who would never catch on.

They seriously underestimated what a mother is capable of.

When Harper finds that mysterious $300 Victoria's Secret charge on their shared account, when she discovers Kieran's handwritten love notes hidden in Anya's room, when she overhears them mocking her "annoying" middle-of-the-night feedings—she realizes it's time to show them what a real "burning sensation" feels like.

So the next time they tried to sneak around, Harper secretly swapped out their lube for her own special blend.

If you want to play with fire, let me show you what burning really feels like.

In my past life, just one day before the national evaluation camp that would make or break his career, my hockey-prodigy best friend faked an illness. He was ready to throw away his entire future just to go party in Chicago with a cheerleader.

Thinking I was doing him a favor, I stepped in. I tipped off his coach, saved his career.

Years later, he became a multimillion-dollar superstar. His way of thanking me? Framing me with doctored charity records and sending me to federal prison. He even smiled as he delivered the final, crushing blow:

"I planned that crash on the icy road, Kassia. Your parents' lives were just the price you had to pay for sticking your nose where it didn't belong."

Now, my eyes snap open to the deafening cheers of our high school hockey arena.

Sitting right next to me, that same cheerleader is eagerly plotting how to corner him after the game.

Growing up, my parents and brother favored only me, treating my sister Della like a burden. They locked her in the basement and fled overnight with me to Aldermere.
Twenty years later, for the sake of my upcoming wedding, they brought me back to that old house to erase the last traces of her existence.
But none of us expected that Della wasn't dead. Decades had passed, yet she still looked exactly as she did back then. She even followed us to our new home—and right now, she’s sitting quietly on our living room sofa, slowly turning her head to smile at us...

The bite mark on the silver chain can never be copied, and it’s the only proof separating truth from fraud. My roommate leaked my secret to her boyfriend, who wore a counterfeit chain to play my long-lost savior. They nearly drained all my money before an anonymous text alerted me to their scheme. I exposed their fraud in public, and finally reunited with the real boy who hid beside me all along.

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.

The moment I saw my name on that wedding invitation, I was already dead.

On Highway 23, a steel rebar had pierced straight through my chest. I was two months pregnant.

I called my fiancé Michael seventeen times. The first sixteen, he hung up without a word. On the seventeenth, his voice dripped with impatience: "Marrying Sophia is just for show. Stop making a scene."

The man who once knelt outside my family's estate for three days and nights, swearing to love me for a lifetime—he wouldn't spare me a single second more.

With my last breath, I dialed the funeral home. "I'm calling... for myself."

Flames consumed my body. My soul drifted toward the engagement banquet that should have been mine. When the killer's phone lit up, the name on the screen was Sophia...

When he destroyed my entire family, he never once thought of me.

So now, let me watch with my own eyes as this wedding becomes their funeral.

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.

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 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.

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.

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.

They gave me to a Mafia family because their real daughter was too precious to sacrifice.

My husband was supposed to be a crippled, impotent psychopath nobody wanted.

But on my wedding night, I found out that the man in the wheelchair could walk. And he wasn't crazy.

He was dangerous.

And worse, he already knew me.

Years ago, I saved the life of a wounded stranger and never saw him again.

I never imagined that the stranger would become my husband, or that the most feared Mafia heir in New York would make me the one thing his enemies could use against him.

My family thought they had sent me to my death.

They didn't realize they had handed me to the Mafia King.

Three years ago, I took an undercover job: pose as a bottom-tier janitor and infiltrate a crime syndicate.

But I didn’t fit. My posture, my stride, the way I watched people—none of it looked like a janitor.

So command made the call: hypnotize me, seal my memories, erase who I was. In three months, someone would come wake me up.

They never did. My handler died, the line went dark, and I stayed buried.

I lost myself and spent three years scrubbing this place from the bottom—where anyone could kick me, spit at me, call me useless.

Until today. A stranger, drenched in blood, was dragged into the hall. He lunged close and whispered one sentence into my ear.

It was the trigger phrase.

The lock in my head snapped open. My name is Jack Reynolds—ex–Marine operative—sent here to bring down the Grey Wolf Alliance.

And everyone who spent three years stepping on my neck is about to learn what that means.

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.

My husband, Marco, in his bid for the position of Don, was forced to marry the young widow of the previous Don, Claudia.
Every night, after returning from Claudia’s place, he would hold me and swear, "You’re the only woman I love, Elena. Claudia has the connections I need. Once I have real power and secure my position, I’ll make you my wife in name and in public."
But as I waited for him to rise to power, what started as a political act turned into nights where he simply never came home.
Then, on Christmas, I was dragged to their engagement party—where I was beaten in front of everyone.
Our six-year-old daughter, Sophia, knelt on the floor, crying and begging him, "Godfather, please, let my mommy go..."
But Marco stayed silent.
"It’s okay," I whispered, picking up my wounded daughter. "Mommy’s going to take you somewhere that truly belongs to us."
What Marco never knew was this: I never cared about being the Donna of this small city.
I am the only heir of the Rossi family—the most powerful Mafia family in all of Sicily.

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.

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."

My magic has always been a little unpredictable.
Singing cinnamon rolls? Normal.
A judgmental broom? Happens all the time.
Accidentally turning my fated mate into a fox five minutes before opening my bakery for the Harvest Festival?
That's a first.
As if that wasn't bad enough, my fated mate turns out to be the impossibly handsome Lord of the Autumn Court. Before I can figure out how to change him back, half the village decides I cursed him on purpose to settle an old family grudge, and suddenly the Autumn Court guards are hunting me.
Now my bakery has been abandoned, my reputation is in ruins, and I'm fleeing across the realm with one very sarcastic fox tucked beneath my cloak.
Unfortunately, sharing a journey with my grumpy little fox is becoming far more dangerous than the guards chasing us. Because every mile we travel, every campfire we share, and every impossible moment we survive together makes one thing painfully clear...
Falling in love with my fated mate was never supposed to happen while he still had four paws and a tail.

"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.

For five years of marriage, I endured my Alpha King husband's cold neglect because he claimed to suffer from "Bond Deficiency Syndrome," making him incapable of falling in love with his fated mate.

I took a silver bullet for him, yet when danger struck, he abandoned me without hesitation and ran to another woman.

It wasn't until I got pregnant with his Double Alpha heir and went to surprise him that I overheard his cold voice outside the door: "The illness is faked. Once she gives birth to the heir, this marriage can end."

It turned out he understood everything; he just didn't love me.

I didn't cry or make a scene. Instead, I faked my death during an attack, leaving behind nothing but a blood-soaked wedding ring.

Later, the Alpha King who claimed he couldn't feel love went completely mad.

He abandoned his territory and searched for me for a year and a half.

But when he finally knelt in the blizzard, begging me to come back, my child was resting on another man's shoulder, sweetly babbling the word "Daddy."

I was only a week away from giving birth when my Alpha mate dragged me from our home—no, ripped me from safety—and forced me to care for her.
His precious Luna-to-be. The one who had just lost her baby.
“She’s in pain because of you,” he growled, his Alpha aura crashing down on me like a tidal wave. “You’ll atone for what you’ve done.”
Lucia, with her tear-soaked eyes and sugar-sweet lies, claimed I had poisoned her with silver. He didn’t even ask for the truth.
Instead, he had me stripped bare and thrown into the sacrificial chamber, where flames licked at my skin and the heat soared past 80 degrees Celsius.
“Purify your sins,” he whispered coldly, like a death sentence wrapped in frost.
And then—In that hellish blaze, I went into labor. Alone. I screamed. I begged. I clawed at the burning stone door until my nails bled, and my voice broke.
But no one came.

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.

"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?

‘PETITION FOR DISSOLUTION OF MARRIAGE.’
“And where exactly would you go after the divorce?” Felix scorned.
“Have you forgotten you had nothing when grandma took you in?” He added, giving her a dismissive once-over.
There was no hint of surprise on his face regarding the divorce news, which all the more showed how much he disliked her.
Wren has spent three years of her life trying to be the perfect housewife to an unloving man. But when she’s pushed to the wall, she’s forced to retaliate.
However she has no idea what is waiting for her on the other side. Happiness at last or worse chaos?

🔞⚠️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."

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.

"Gold in her eyes, fire in her soul".

Jean Taylor, billionaire extraordinaire, seems like a regular crazy-rich woman (if that can be considered regular) to everyone, except for one thing; nobody knows who she is or exactly where she comes from. She has made sure everything is well-hidden with good reason.

The knowledge of who she is and where she comes from will liquefy the human brain.

Who is she? Where is she from? And how on earth can she slice a man open with just one look?

Find out in this thrilling story about a woman who is one part ruthless billionaire (who just so happens to love foot massages) and another part lost queen (who walks between dimensions trying to save her kingdom -and her horse).

Oh, and did I mention her amazing powers passed down through generations? Raw power that can take any form she wills them to take?

What an exciting adventure this is about to be!

I have everything in my life all figured out. My job in a Manhattan empire is perfect, allowing me to maintain a quiet and organized existence. After a childhood filled with painful memories, abuse, and a useless mother, this sense of security is a necessity for me. But along with it comes a problem that could disrupt everything I thought I needed.

My promotion places me in close proximity to Jacob Carrero, a young, incredibly attractive, and playboy billionaire with a notorious reputation. I now find myself stuck as his right-hand man, spending every waking moment with him. It doesn't take long for me to realize that he's exactly the type of person who could drive me crazy, and not in a good way. We're like chalk and cheese. He's impulsive, confident, laid-back, dominant, and enjoys casual sex and dating without much thought. I, on the other hand, am compulsive, reserved, and cautious.

Despite his carefree attitude, Jacob is the only one who can break through my composed exterior. He's not phased by my closed-off demeanor and cool manners. But as much as I may want to, letting him into my heart is another thing entirely. My painful past has made me wary of men, and I have no desire to let anyone get close enough to hurt me again.

However, Jacob Carrero is not someone who takes no for an answer. He wants to be more than just another person seeing my façade, who is learning how to break through my defenses.

What should I do?