9169 Book(s) Related to the omega and the arrogant alpha

Rosemary Decker, a 27-year-old marketing executive fleeing corporate burnout in Seattle, inherits her great-aunt's mysterious bookshop in Thornwick Hollow just as her life crumbles. But the inheritance comes with a chilling countdown—twenty-eight days until a crimson eclipse that occurs once per generation. Holden Ashworth, a devastatingly compelling stranger with secrets older than the mountain town itself, seems to know intimate details about her family history that she's never heard before. As Rosemary discovers the horrifying truth about an ancient covenant that has claimed six generations of women from her bloodline, she realizes Holden isn't courting her—he's preparing her for a ritual that will grant him immortality while consuming her life essence. But some family legacies are worth fighting for, and in Thornwick Hollow, the hunted might just become the hunter when the crimson eclipse rises and old debts written in blood come due.

"A book to rival TWILIGHT and VAMPIRE DIARIES, and one that will have you wanting to keep reading until the very last page! If you are into adventure, love and vampires this book is the one for you!" --Vampirebooksite.com (Turned)RESURRECTED is Book #9 in the #1 Bestselling series THE VAMPIRE JOURNALS, which begins with Book #1, TURNED! In RESURRECTED (Book #9 of the Vampire Journals), 16 year old Scarlet Paine finds herself changing in mysterious ways. She is becoming sensitive to light, able to read peoples’ thoughts, and is faster and stronger than she’s ever been. She doesn’t understand what’s happening to her, and tries to ignore it. But she can only dismiss it for so long. Caitlin Paine, her mom, knows too well what’s happening to her daughter. She underwent the same transformation to vampire once, centuries ago. But now, in the present day, as a mere human, she has no memory of it. All she has is the journal she found in the attic—her mysterious vampire journal—telling of her exploits in another time and place, and of the vampire race being eradicated. But was there one exception to the rule? Could it be that Scarlet, her daughter, is the last remaining vampire on earth? As Scarlet tries to fight who she’s becoming, she also tries to fight her intense feelings for Blake, a boy in her grade who she has a crush on. She can’t tell, though, if he’s into her, and with the big Halloween dance just days away, the pressure is on. She would do anything for Blake to ask her. But Vivian, the meanest of the popular girls, is also on Blake’s radar, and she’ll do anything to make Blake hers—and to make Scarlet’s life a living hell. Luckily Scarlet has her own clique of friends to back her up, including her best friends Maria and Jasmin. They, too, have guy troubles—but it isn’t until Sage appears, the mysterious new boy, that her friends become obsessed. Scarlet finds herself attracted to him, too—and is surprised when it is her, of all the girls in the school, that he pays attention to. But her mind is set on Blake, at least for now, and she continues to hope he’ll ask her to the dance. Just when it seems that Scarlet has what she wants, her body changes. Soon it may be impossible for her to be near her fellow humans. Soon, she may have to choose between her desire to live and her desire for love.

I thought I was broken.
Twenty-three years old, and my wolf had never surfaced. An outcast. A mistake.
But the night of the festival changed everything. My first heat hit me like fire, and three of the most dangerous Alphas in the realm rose to claim me.
Kia, the warlord feared for his blood-soaked battles.
AshBane, the cursed Alpha who collects souls like trophies.
And Lucivar, the Devil Alpha, banished for loving me in another life.
They say I’m fated. Desired. Owned.
But all I feel is the weight of chains tightening around my throat.
Because I’m not just their mate.
I’m the key to a curse that could burn the world.
And if I choose wrong… everyone dies.

"So hot… I need release…" The rough, guttural moans coming from the King’s chamber vibrated through the floorboards, dripping with a raw, carnal need that made my thighs clench involuntarily.

I was just a servant, but the scent pouring from that room—musk, sweat, and overwhelming dominance—pulled me in like a moth to a flame. I pushed the door open. The Lycan King lay sprawled on the bed, his sheets tangled around his waist, barely hiding the massive tent of his arousal. He was writhing, his hips bucking unconsciously against the mattress, sweat slicking his magnificent, scarred chest.

"AAAAHHHHHHH! I NEED HER!" He roared, his voice thick with lust and agony.

I reached out, my trembling fingers brushing his burning skin. The shockwave was electric. His eyes snapped open—glowing a demonic red—and locked onto my heaving chest.

"Mine," he growled.

He yanked me down, crushing my soft body against his rock-hard erection. I gasped as I felt the thick, throbbing length of him pressing against my belly through our clothes. He buried his face in my neck, inhaling my scent like a starving beast, his tongue dragging a wet, hot stripe up to my ear. "You smell like dessert," he rasped, his hand gripping my ass, grinding me harder against him. "Open for me."

The sheer size of him terrified me, but my own body betrayed me, my core gushing wet heat in response to hisAlpha command. "MATE," he roared, his hips snapping up to dry-hump me with bruising force, promising that once he got inside, he would never pull out.

In FALLEN (Book #7 of the Vampire Legends), Rachel Wood wakes to find she has fallen down a hole, into a fantasy world from which she tries to escape. She searches desperately for Benji, but destiny seems intent on keeping them apart.Rachel, saved from the underworld by her Grandmother, finally learns the secrets of who she is—and how powerful she is.Benji fights for his life, his love for Rachel never fading, he eager to be reunited with her. But he is up against forces more powerful than ever, and he may not be able to break free.Darker forces than ever are at play, determined to end the world, and it will be a race against time as they all converge on the portal in the midst of the ocean, all of them fighting for possession of the ancient relic that alone can save the world.More than anything, Rachel is determined to save her love. But as a dramatic twist comes at the end, she realizes, this time, all may be lost forever….FALLEN is book #7 of the Bestselling Vampire Legends series (following SWORN, TAKEN, BITTEN, CHOSEN, AWAKENED and RISEN).

Adrianna is forced to marry a prince, rumoured to be a demon - the son of the devil himself. Her life takes a sad turn when she discovers she is only a tool for revenge.
    What will happen when her guide, Eva, informs her she is the only way to bring back light into Austeria? Follow the love story between Adrianna, a humble Prince with a pure soul - and Rainier, the demon Prince, in their quest to retrieve the lost Kingdom of Austeria.

Blane Samuel
A definition of a nice guy, a guy who always think about others first than himself. Since his break up with Lauren Hastington, he's a wreck. He thought he won't look at another woman but he was wrong. One day, a beautiful girl in red dress came to him caught his eyes.

Camilla Medilton
Beautiful model who always have positive thinking and live her life the fullest. With her beautiful face and body, every guy wants her until it made some of them take a bad step. Since she sense the bad situation, she took a random guy to be his boyfriend and apparently that guy is Blane Samuel

"Hey baby! I miss you, what took you so long? How's work?" Camilla linked her arm to Blane who was clueless seeing a beautiful hot girl linking her arm to him

After pulling back-to-back graveyard shifts, I dragged myself to my twin brother's place to mooch his washer. One look at his biohazard of a bed, and I crashed on the clean bunk across the room instead.
Big mistake. It belonged to Jensen—the baseball team's untouchable ice king.
He lost his mind over the sweet peach scent someone left in his sheets, then discovered it was the first thing in two years that let him actually sleep. My desperate brother, hunting for free rent, conned me into playing Jensen's "replacement sleep aid" and locked the damn door behind me.
Jensen caught on instantly. But instead of throwing me out, he offered me cash to stick around as his contract girlfriend. After he handled some thugs threatening my brother, this guy who never lets anyone close pressed his face into my neck, voice raw and possessive:
"Your brother sold you to clear his debt. You're mine now. And I don't do returns."

In my last life, I was killed by the wife I loved most. Reborn once again—will I fail this time too? When magic that sweeps across the world descends, in this life, love finally breaks through the curse.

In the Faewild, pureblooded elves are born to rule. We wolves are nothing but savage beasts bred for war.
I was sent to the Elven Court as a hostage—a living pledge of my pack's surrender. For five years, I bled for King Othlan. Seven times I bore curses meant to kill him. Slaughtered countless horrors in his name.
All for the soul mark he promised me. The only thing that could mend what he'd broken in me.
But when I dragged myself back from the abyss, body shattered and poisoned, I found him binding that mark—the one meant for eternal mates—to another woman.
A pureblooded elf. Of course.
I swallowed the blood rising in my throat and crushed the dragon stone hidden in my palm.
He wanted me gone? I'd give him exactly that. Permanently.

I remember that frost-covered train door like it was the last thing I ever saw. Because it was.
The escape spot I’d spent three years scraping together? My fiancée was sitting in it, wearing my parka. Her brother had my hiking boots on his feet. Her mother clutched the medical kit I’d carried six miles through ash-covered roads. And Caleb Frost—the ex she’d sworn was just “someone from the past”—stood in the seat that should have been mine, lifting my silver emergency flask in a toast.
While I froze out in the subzero ash storm, my lungs burning like they were filled with shards of broken glass, they turned their backs to me under the warm yellow light inside.
Then I woke up.
The calendar read May 3, 2041. Exactly one year before the Yellowstone chain eruption would turn the northern hemisphere into a frozen grave.
On the TV, experts were still downplaying the volcanic tremors, insisting there was no immediate risk to the public. My fiancée walked into the bedroom wearing one of my white shirts, carrying coffee in the blue mug she’d bought with my card. She reached for my forehead, asking if I’d had a bad dream.
None of them know I’ve already died once.
They’re still plotting how to make me pay for her brother’s failed investments, how to sneak texts to her old boyfriend, how to use me as their most obedient, most useful doormat until the world ends. I’ve sold the downtown office towers, mortgaged the lakefront house, bought the abandoned geothermal station no one wanted in the dead mountains, and signed a stack of engineering contracts they’ll never bother to read.
They still smile and thank me, tell me I’m the best fiancé in the world.
They have no idea who will be holding the key to the door, when the sky goes dark forever and the snow never stops falling.

“Be careful with that, Emma," my boss at the high-end courier service warned, handing me the velvet-lined case. "That bottle is worth more than your life. It’s for the penthouse gala at the Sterling Heights. If it breaks, don't bother coming back.”

I clutched the case to my chest like it was a newborn child.

The soles of my shoes were so thin I could feel every jagged pebble on the pavement. My feet ached, a dull, throbbing reminder of the sixteen-hour shifts I’d been pulling for the last three months.

But every time I felt like collapsing, I thought of Liam. He met with an accident five years ago and could not work.

So, I became the bread-earner in our family.

Today was our wedding anniversary. And this last expensive delivery could earn me a decent gift for him.

"The host is on the terrace," a waiter whispered as I reached the penthouse, eyeing my worn-out sneakers with disdain. "Hurry up. He doesn't like to be kept waiting.”

I walked toward the terrace, my heart hammering. I just wanted to drop this off, get my signature, and run to Liam. I pushed through the crowd, dodging silk gowns and tailored tuxedos.

Then, I stopped.

The man standing at the edge of the terrace looked familiar.

He was wearing a bespoke midnight-blue tuxedo that cost more than our three years of rent. His hair was slicked back, his posture commanding and regal. He was way too rich to cross paths with me in my entire life.

But, my heart skipped a beat as he turned back to look at his friends.

It was Liam. My Liam. With other woman, offering the world to her.

After months of being bullied at school, things got even worse—the bullies said they wanted to come to my house.
Wanted to see what kind of family a "dog" like me came from.
I begged them, sobbing, not to do it.
Because my dad is a serial killer. My mom is a twisted murderer. And my brother is a full-blown psychopath.
If they come to my house, they will die.

The remote vacation villa was saturated with suffocating male testosterone.
Deep in the night, my life-saving suppressants inexplicably vanished. The moment the drugs wore off, my unspeakable secret—my sex addiction—unleashed its most violent, lethal backlash in history.
What was even more fatal was that, through a twisted twist of fate, the man I was forced to share a room with tonight was my stepbrother, renowned for his absolute abstinence and cold, iron-fisted ruthlessness.
I thought that once my embarrassingly out-of-control, in-heat state was exposed, he would treat me like a monster and kick me away in disgust.
But I never expected—
This aloof man, who usually wouldn't even spare me a glance, now carried an irresistible, scorching aggression, ruthlessly sliding his large, rough hand straight up my thoroughly soaked panties...

In my past life, the glorious "Son of the Sun" drained my divine blood until I died a broken shell.
Reborn, my twin sister eagerly steals my fiancé, shoving me toward the exiled, "crippled" King of the Shadow Crows.
As she flaunts her stolen glory, desperate to birth the sky's future ruler, I can only smile.
She doesn't know her golden prince is functionally sterile—and the "heir" she's destroying herself to conceive will be a nightmare.
And she certainly has no idea that my featherless, outcast husband is actually the ancient Abyssal Phoenix.
Let her drown in the hell she stole. This time, I’ll let the very abyss she cursed crown me as a True God.

My younger sister was tortured to the brink of death by the young heir of a newly minted mafia family.
 
His older sister stood on her high horse and threw a check at me.
 
"Take this half a million, grab your half-dead sister, and get the hell out of New York."
 
I tore the check into shreds and screamed at her, "In your dreams! I want him dead!"
 
She let out a contemptuous scoff.
 
"Around here, my family is the law! Half a million is enough for bottom-feeders like you to scrape by for three lifetimes. If it's not enough, consider it money for a nice cemetery plot. How about I throw in another two million?"
 
As she spoke, she raised her hand, flaunting it. "Otherwise... take a good look at this signet ring. Who exactly do you think you're talking to?"
 
My eyes locked onto the ring on her finger. The ancient crest engraved on the gold was all too familiar—it was the custom wedding gift I had commissioned for my mafia boss husband ten years ago.
 
Instantly, my glare turned absolutely lethal.
 
"I said, I want your brother's life."

"We can only take one more person! Any heavier and we ALL go down!"

In the middle of a raging forest fire, my fiancé Carter Hayes was piloting a fuel-leaking helicopter, forced to choose between me and my cousin Lily Sterling.

He chose me.

Lily was left behind in the inferno. She burned.

I thought surviving made me lucky — until my parents slapped me across the face at my wedding. "Why wasn't it YOU who died?"

Turns out, I was never the one they wanted to save.

Carter married me, then spent five years making me wish I'd died in that fire instead. He and my parents worked together, systematically stripping away my dignity, my career, and every reason I had to keep living.

Three years into my depression, I jumped from the top floor of the Hayes estate.

When I opened my eyes, I found myself back before the fire — before the helicopter took off, before Carter made his choice.

This time, I spoke first. "Take Lily."

If they all wanted me dead, then I'd give them exactly what they wanted.

"Did you bring one back?" My mom, Siobhan, urged.
I pushed my half-empty mug to the center of the cafe table. The campus buzzed around me, students stressing over minor things like finals.
"I’m still at school, Mom."
"The Summer Solstice is in exactly one month, Maeve." The line crackled.
"If you cross that water empty-handed, Finn is going to the pens. Are you going to let your own brother be taken?"

One hundred years married to Everett, and I've learned one thing: whenever he wants to push me into a corner, he throws the mate bond dissolution agreement in my face. Whenever my parents want me to cave, they hold the family name over my head.

They've always wanted the same thing — for me to hand over everything I have to my twin sister Rosalie, who's been sick her whole life.

I've fought it. I've grieved over it.

But when the doctor slid the diagnosis across the desk — Blood Depletion Syndrome, late stage, less than two weeks left — something in me just went quiet.

What's the point of fighting when you're already dead?

I divorced the same man nine times.
The first eight times, I was the one sobbing, begging him not to go.
The ninth time, I was the one who slid the papers across the table.
He signed them, then told me we'd remarry once she left.
I said okay.
What he didn't know was that my flight was already booked.
This time, I was leaving for good.

Jennifer suddenly announced in the sorority common room: "Everything's on me tonight, ladies—oceanview cabana at The Pearl!"
The whole room cheered. I kept my eyes on my textbook.
Yesterday she borrowed twenty bucks from me for a salad. Now she's booking a five-thousand-dollar minimum venue? She wanted the black card in my bag.
"Teresa, just lend me your card to get us in the door. I'll cover everything myself." I stared at her for three seconds, then handed it over. Her face lit up.
I stepped away and called the club manager. "Lock my account, highest security tier. Without my verification code, not a single charge goes through."
She took my card and rounded up five girls, headed straight to the club. Champagne, caviar, Wagyu, Louis XIII—she ordered all of it.
When the check came, it totaled fifty-two thousand, three hundred and eighty dollars.
And the card wouldn't go through.

Aurelia, princess of the Light Fae Clan, sacrificed everything to save Caleb, a young noble cursed with blood plague. She fed him her golden life‑blood, bound herself with a silence spell to hide imperial secrets, and swore to protect him forever—even if it cost her freedom.
Blinded by false accusations and manipulated by a cruel dark witch, Caleb turned on the woman who gave him life. He chained her with deadly cold iron, tore out her Life Core, imprisoned her in a freezing basement, and watched his beloved’s younger brother die by his own hand.
When Aurelia unleashes the forbidden stardust self‑destruction curse and fades into glowing ashes, Caleb finally uncovers the terrible truth. Drowning in endless regret and self‑loathing, he embarks on a brutal path of atonement—punishing the witch, saving the last surviving Fae, and torturing himself for years.
But some sins can never be washed away.Some saviors never return.And the noble who killed his Fae savior will pay with his life.

The Apocalypse Descended. Zombies Slaughtered the City.

I was the first to awaken a top-tier ability — and I used it to flip half a street's worth of zombies like ragdolls.

I led a ragged band of survivors through the siege, carved a path out with blood and fire, and seized an abandoned military factory on the east side of the city. We turned it into a fortress.

I was the name that made everything within miles tremble — the Devil King, they called me.

The government base sent envoys three times to bring me into the fold. All three times, I threw their people and their vehicles right back out the gates.

A research lab came looking for cooperation. I torched their sample truck on the spot.

The rules inside this base? Mine. Anyone who didn't like it got tossed over the wall to feed the dead.

Every grain of rice, every pill, every night of safety — all of it was bought with blood. My blood. My people's blood. Clawed back from the jaws of a million rotting corpses.

Everyone respected me. Everyone feared me.

The only softness I ever allowed myself was for Xu Qinghe — the woman who'd crawled out of that mountain of corpses right beside me. My girlfriend. My one exception.


Then the lab dropped a bombshell: among the Awakened, one in ten thousand could evolve into an Ability King. The mark of this savior? A crimson blood-line on the inner forearm.

The whole world lost its mind.

Overnight, everyone stopped. No one manned the walls. No one scavenged for supplies. They just knelt there, day after day, praying for their Ability King to descend.

Then my girlfriend brought back a pretty-faced boy with a red line on his forearm.

The entire base fell to their knees before him like he was a living god.

And me — the man who'd bled for this base for three years, who'd held the line when no one else would — I was shoved out beyond the city gates.

Left for the dead.


A tide of a million zombies crashed against the walls. Their so-called god collapsed on the ground, sobbing and screaming for mercy.

Everyone inside waited to die.

That's when I looked down at my own forearm — at the crimson line I'd kept hidden all along.

And I smiled.

This time, it's my turn.

At twenty-nine, Dominic Brooks owns this city's underworld.

This year, I'm pregnant again. Finally.

But on our daughter's death anniversary, he doesn't show. Five hours. Nothing.

I find him at our casino with some girl draped all over him. The same girl I pulled out of a trafficking ring two years ago.

She's laughing loud enough for everyone to hear. "His wife won't stop crying about that dead kid. God, he's so over it."

He kisses her. Right in front of me.

Three days later, he tears up our daughter's grave. His mistress wants a swimming pool.

The shovel comes down. My unborn baby goes with it.

Years ago, Dominic taught me the rules of our world. How we handle traitors.

Time for a reminder.

As the sole heir to one of America’s wealthiest families, I had always known the Harrington rule: every heir had to go through all four years of high school under an assumed identity, without using a single dollar of the family fortune.

So I wore thick black-framed glasses and secondhand sneakers and worked part-time jobs to support myself.

Everyone at school mocked me for being poor. They said my face was the only thing I had going for me.

Only Nolan, the top-ranked student in our grade, never looked down on me. Once, he slid half an eraser across the library table to me and told me that education could change a person’s life.

The day we started dating, he held my hand and promised me:

“Georgie, I’ll hold your hand through all of it. No matter how hard things get, I won’t let go.”

I believed him.

But during the outdoor club’s final hiking trip before my four-year disguise was over, a storm rolled in. Savannah, his childhood sweetheart, complained that her ankle hurt.

Nolan immediately let go of me and knocked me into the mud as he rushed to her.

Everyone gathered around Savannah to make sure she was okay. Then they laughed at me for thinking a poor girl like me could ever belong with someone like Nolan.

I didn’t cry.

I took off my glasses and placed my muddy, bloodstained hand in the palm of Holden, the Upper East Side heir who had spent the past two years trying to get me to go out with him.

“If you take my hand, you’re agreeing to be my girlfriend.”

“Okay.”

My brother's first day on the job, and the new intern, Ashley Pratt, accuses him of trying something with her in the break room.

In my last life, I panicked under all those judging stares and my father screaming at me over the phone. I grabbed my brother by the shoulder and forced him to bow and apologize to her, tried to pay her off to make it go away.

She turned around and leaked the wire transfer online instead, twisted it into a story about rich people paying to buy back their good name. The backlash spiraled out of control. My brother couldn't take the flood of hate anymore and jumped from the roof. He hit the ground and there was nothing left of him to recognize.

My father used my failure to handle it as an excuse to push me off the board. I ended up watching the woman responsible climb over my brother's grave and take the CEO seat at Merritt Industries.

Fate is giving me a second shot.

My brother reaches for me, eyes rimmed red. "Camille, I swear I didn't do anything."

I pull him behind me and look down at the woman crying on the floor.

"She's saying you assaulted her? Fine. Let's call the cops."

In my previous life, when the extreme cold apocalypse arrived, I was drained of all value and heartlessly kicked into an ice pit by my ex-girlfriend.

When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the time before the apocalypse erupted!

On my phone screen, my girlfriend was still arrogantly issuing ultimatums: "If you don't deliver that eight-thousand-dollar Chanel bag to me today, don't even think about touching me ever again!"

I sneered coldly, decisively blocking this gold-digger who was prepared to devour me alive on all platforms. Then I immediately unlocked the seven-million-dollar trust fund my grandfather had left me and went on a shopping spree for the city's top-tier extreme survival supplies!

A few hours later, an unprecedented extreme polar vortex swept across North America.

When my ex-girlfriend and street thugs frantically pounded on my half-meter-thick reinforced steel blast door, what greeted them wasn't just the aroma of fireplace-grilled steak, but also me and my hardcore parents holding heavy firearms.

As the top heiress of a multi-billion-dollar empire, I hid my identity to marry Silas for love. Yet, on the night of our third anniversary, he trapped me in a restaurant with a frozen bank card, leaving me looking like a deadbeat who couldn't pay a $500,000 bill.
Immediately after, he swaggered in with his heavily pregnant mistress, Brielle.
When I questioned him, he mercilessly slapped me to the ground. He even allowed a room full of wealthy businessmen to hurl insults at me, trying to force me to kneel and apologize to his mistress.
Looking at his distorted, ego-inflated face, I didn't get angry; instead, I laughed.
Silas smugly believed he had completely crushed the dignity of a weak housewife.
But this fool still didn't know that with just one phone call, the billionaire empire he was so proud of would be reduced to ashes in half an hour.

My name is Junie. I'm six years old, a half-werewolf. My mom Juliet is a human witch, the gentlest woman alive.

A month ago, Mom was eight months pregnant. We were walking by the river when Dad's childhood friend Melody shoved her straight into the rushing current. The cold water took my unborn brother. When they pulled Mom out, she was covered in blood, her magic all but gone.

Dad, Maxwell, is the youngest Alpha of the Silver Wolf pack and runs a family conglomerate. That day in the hospital hallway, his eyes went red and he swore through gritted teeth that whoever did this would pay for it, hard, in front of the Tribunal.

Mom believed him.

Then came the trial. The second Dad saw that the woman sitting in the defendant's seat was Melody, he went quiet.

Right there in front of the judge, he took it back. He said Melody never meant to push her, that Mom's magic had gone haywire from the pregnancy and she'd slipped into the river on her own.

Melody walked free. Mom got community service.

The day we left the courthouse, Melody buried her face in Dad's chest and sobbed, but the second no one else could see, she shot Mom a cold little smirk. Dad kissed her forehead like her tears were breaking his heart.

Mom just watched them, one hand over her empty belly. Those eyes that used to be so full of love were calm now.

She let out a slow breath. "Maxwell, let's break the mate bond."

"I saved you. Now you're mine."

Five years ago, Matteo De Luca took a bullet for me. Ever since, I willingly stayed hidden as the secret lover of New York's most ruthless Mafia heir.

He claimed the shadows were the only way to protect me from rival families. I believed him—right up until his former flame, Serena, returned to the city.

Suddenly, his protective instincts shifted. He left me alone with an IV in my arm just to rush to her side for a mild stomachache.

But the real wake-up call came when I accidentally opened the locked attic he never let me enter. It wasn't full of syndicate weapons or secrets. It was covered wall-to-wall with intimate photographs of him and Serena.

Staring at the shrine he kept for her, my five years of devotion felt like a pathetic joke.

I didn't scream or cry. I just pulled out my phone and dialed Sicily.

"Papa," I said steadily, staring at the empty room. "Tell the Ferraro family I've changed my mind. Set the wedding date."

On the day of the Bonding Pact, my sister and I stood in the grand hall to choose our husbands.

She snatched Malik of the Water Snakes, throwing Raven—the last heir of the Leviathans—to me.

In our past life, we married on the same day, but our grooms were reversed.

She married Raven and birthed a patricidal monster. I married Malik, using my healing magic to cleanse the madness from his blood, and gave birth to a divine heir worshiped by all.

In the end, driven mad by jealousy over her ruin, she murdered me.

In this life, pointing at Malik's token, she declared she would marry Malik .

I lowered my head, hiding my eyes. "Then I wish you exactly what you desire, Sister."

"Economy? For me?" I stared at the boarding pass while my boyfriend's new "business partner" got first class instead. "You're just my plus-one," Cedric said. "The sponsor won't cover you." I said nothing and boarded the plane. What he didn't know was that if I wanted to, I could buy the entire airline.

My entire family betrayed me.

My husband Keith threatened divorce to force me into donating bone marrow to save my sister Berenice's life.

My parents slapped me across the face, screaming I owed her everything.

Thirty days in an underground lab, Keith wined and dined Berenice while I got steel needles driven through my spine daily.

When I begged Keith for help through the agony, he texted back: "Stop playing victim. Disgusting."

I died alone on day thirty. Keith arrived with divorce papers, ready for one final insult, but received a decomposing corpse crawling with maggots.

But when the truth came out, why did my loving family completely lose their minds?

This year, out of nowhere, my mate Dominic told me to take two months off and go to Ashvale with our son, Finn. Eight years, and he'd never once given me a single day off.
I thought he'd finally noticed how tired I was.
Then Maren found a letter in his study. It was from his Beta, laying out the whole plan. Move his old flame Camille and her daughter into the main house. Hold a mating ceremony the moment I was gone.
I don't know how long I stood there holding that letter before I could think straight again.
If my mate wanted to bring her home and pick up where they left off, that was his business.
I packed our son's things for Ashvale.
I just wasn't planning on coming back.

My sister ran away the night before her wedding, so I had to take her place and marry Damian Kovac, the city's most feared don.
I figured he'd throw me in the harbor out of pure rage. Instead, the man wouldn't even touch me.
A month in, still sleeping in the guest room.
I wasn't my sister's level of charming, but I wasn't hard to look at either. And this man couldn't spare me a single glance?
The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. I grabbed the divorce papers I'd already drawn up and stormed toward his study.
Right as I raised my hand to knock, I caught his childhood friend's voice through the door.
"You moved heaven and earth to get the woman you've been hung up on, and now you're icing her out? Didn't think I'd live to see the day."
My hand froze.
The woman he'd been hung up on? Me?

I took a bullet for my husband five years ago. He married me in the ICU before the anesthesia wore off.
Raffaele Santoro—heir to the most powerful mafia family in Italy—told me I was his everything. He bought a castle and named it after me. He reserved a grave beside his parents so we'd lie together for eternity.
While I was pumping my body full of hormones for our fourth round of IVF, he was across town watching his childhood sweetheart give birth to twin boys.
He named one of them Dante—the name I'd chosen for our future son.
The night I found out, I was seven weeks pregnant with his child.
I didn't tell him.
I called my best friend and said: I need everyone to think I'm dead.

I found the thirteenth piece of evidence of Reid's affair today.

Black lace panties, shoved deep between his car seats.

The first time, it was designer lipstick in his glove box. "Oh, that's mine," my friend Mia shrugged. "Must've fallen out when Reid gave me a ride."

The sixth time, a hotel key card in his console. "I borrowed his car for a business trip," my brother Owen explained calmly. "Stop being so paranoid, Nadia."

Thirteen times. Thirteen perfect excuses.

When I confront Reid with the panties, he just makes a phone call.

On speaker, Mia and Owen claim the underwear is theirs—some late-night hookup in my fiancé's back seat. "You're being ridiculous, Nadia," they snap in unison. "You're getting married. Start acting like it. Trust him."

I watch Reid's face, that innocent mask he wears so well.

Then I smile.

Because I bought those panties myself. I planted them there.

And now I finally know who's been his accomplice all along.

I hid in my best friend's closet to catch my fiancé cheating.
Through the gap in the door, I saw them on the bed. Tessa was blindfolded, wrists tied to the headboard with silk scarves. Callum's hands wrapped around her throat—some kind of breath play, I guessed.
Then her moaning turned to choking.
Her body convulsed. Her bound hands clawed at nothing. Her legs kicked against the mattress.
Then stopped.
Callum released her throat. Checked her pulse. Sighed.
And lit a cigarette.
He sat there scrolling his phone next to her body. No panic. No CPR. No 911.
Like this wasn't his first time watching someone die.
I bit my hand to keep from screaming. Blood seeped across the floor toward my bare feet.
Then he walked toward the closet.
I escaped that night. Barely. Ran three floors up to my neighbor's apartment—Dr. Neve Ashton, a trauma therapist. Beautiful. Warm. The kind of woman who made you feel safe just by existing.
She pulled me inside, locked the door, handed me tea.
"I called the police," she said. "They're on their way."
An hour passed. No sirens.
I looked at her. She smiled.

"Knock on this door over the noise one more time, and you're dead!"
Calling the cops was useless, and I was too broke to move.
Driven practically insane, I recklessly tore open the black box from the dark web—the seller promised that if I just followed the instructions, it would "eliminate the noise at the source."
Less than half an hour later, the deafening rager upstairs completely stopped.
Three mornings later, a homicide detective pounded furiously on my door.
"The father and son upstairs are dead."

An unforeseen crash of an airplane initially caused by a wolflike assassin led to the deaths of many innocent lives including the target whose daughter miraculously survived the accident and was rescued by a trained warrior from an ancient cult of skilled fighters who have kept themselves hidden for many centuries away from the civilization.
As an orphan, she wasn't aware of her past until a fateful encounter with ferocious beasts of the Sao clan whom she is trained as an acolyte to hate brought to light the guilt of the cult.

Will she overcome her desire for vengeance against those responsible for the death of her parents after falling in love with the clan's heir or will she team up with the once-hated clan to face a new threat that seeks to destroy the world?

"First of all, I have a boyfriend, and I've never been with anyone else while I was with him, and secondly, you have a girlfriend, and you're used to cheating on her with any girl, and I don't want to be one of them," I say and tries to move away, but he holds me between his body and the table.

"And who says you're one of them?" he nibbles my lip, making me gasp "You're better, you're unique." he says and with that, I give myself into his arms, allowing him to kiss me like I've never been kissed before.

That feeling Zac gave me when he touched my lips one more time made me feel as bold and daring as I've ever felt. It made me feel a rush of adrenaline to do something that was forbidden and delicious at the same time. And as I've always said since the beginning, he brought out things in me that I hated, a part of me that I detested.

But at that moment, I loved it.

Sad night, sad girl, something crazy she did when she drank up, Entering the president's room unexpectedly, it's crush. The story between him and her is just beginning…………

I am a mermaid.

To walk toward him, I swallowed a dark potion, shedding my tail for a pair of legs.
Every step felt like treading on sharp blades, yet I endured it all willingly.
He took me in, promising to protect me for the rest of my life.

Then, his ex-lover returned.

She orchestrated one accident after another to frame me—a slashed costume, a staged fall down the stairs... And every single time, convenient "eyewitnesses" immediately pointed their fingers at me.

He believed them all.

Until a falling stage light crushed her legs.
He pinned me to the operating table, personally severed my legs, and transplanted them onto that woman.

What he didn't know was that anyone who walked on these legs would have to suffer the excruciating agony of stepping on knives.
He simply told me coldly: "You ruined her ability to dance, so you will pay with your legs."

That night, alone and broken, I wheeled myself to the beach.
Using only my bare hands, I crawled across the coarse sand, into the crashing waves, and returned to my true home.

——Leaving him to stare at the security monitors, watching helplessly as I sank into the dark sea, never to surface again.

“You want me,” Ace said with a smirk, his fingers grazing Spades’ cheek.

“I see it in your eyes, in the way your body responds to mine. You want me just as much as I want you. So why fight it, Spades? Why fight me?” he murmured, pressing their bodies together.

Spades stood frozen, torn between desire and dread, his heart hammering. Rage flickered in his voice.

“You’re married to my stepsister. You’re the heir to the Bratva. Do I need to list more reasons why this is a terrible idea? Why will this never work? You chose her, Ace. You married her. Think. Let me go.”

Ace’s eyes turned stormy.

“Never,” he growled—and then he kissed him.

Karlin “Ace” Marakov is the heir to the Bratva, the ruthless Russian Mafia. Arrogant, violent, and dangerously reckless, Ace destroys everything he touches. Tired of his self-destruction, his father—the Pakhan—forces him into marriage with Nina Ivanov, the daughter of his closest ally.

But Ace never wanted Nina.

He wanted her stepbrother.

Spades Ivanov grew up with nothing. Every meal was earned, every step forward fought for. Adopted by Lee Ivanov, he’s fiercely loyal—loyal enough to follow any order, no matter the cost.

When Ace and Spades crash into each other, it’s volatile, electric, and impossible to ignore. The tension becomes unbearable. Ace wants him—and he'll burn their entire world to the ground to have him.

Because in Ace’s mind, Spades is his.

!! Beware,this book contains mature content !!
"Welcome to Sin City"
Those were the words of Athena to Jason,one of the newbies at LA associates. Jason was a hotshot in the company that Legit Alpha ran. But with the arrival of Jason,some bizarre things start happening like the near assassination of the mayor and a threat on the president. Another employee, Marla,also wants a piece of Jason.
What no one really knows is the reason why Jason is in Sin City apart from Alpha. Driven by the lust for revenge, Jason is willing to go to any lengths to accomplish his goals. He is willing to lay waste to anyone and everything in his path because everytime he closed his eyes, his past haunted him. Secretly known by the alias Ghost of Europe,the most feared man in Europe and all over the world wants blood. Especially,the blood of a homicidal serial killer from his past branded the name Serbian Slayer
Follow Jason West in his quest for redemption and get to know what can drive a man to such lengths.
Will love dominate and overshadow revenge? What happens when Jason finally gets his hands on the killer from his past? Who will he choose between Marla and Athena? But most importantly, what happens when a man without anything to loose knows no limits?

Hate.

Oh yes, I fucking hate Chase Hartley. I mean he's... cocky, a college hockey star, and to top it all, he's my soon-to-be stepbrother. Because my dad decided to get married and have me trapped under the same roof with him for the entire summer.

But everything changed the day we kissed.

Everything turned forbidden.

WARNING: THIS NOVEL IS SPICY. LESS HOCKEY. MUCH SEX

“Aren't you a hooker that anyone could on top of you with money?”
When they met, he became her guest in room...

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

No one believed I was the real Sophia.

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

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

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

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

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

I came home early from a business trip and overheard the woman Joseph always called his “poor stepmother” clinging to him in his office, begging for a kiss. Her swollen belly carried his child.
“When do I get to stop pretending to be your stepmother?” Susan whined.
Joseph’s cold laugh stripped away the last of my dignity. “Soon. Once I drain Emma’s company dry, she’ll be useless.”
I used to think Joseph was my salvation.
After his father died and his pregnant stepmother had nowhere to go, I ignored my family’s objections and brought them both into my home. I poured every resource I had into helping him rise.
I even became pregnant with his child.
Only then did I realize I had never really been his wife.
I was only the stepping stone they used to climb into wealth.
That night, Susan staged a miscarriage.
And Joseph, his face twisted with rage, locked me—pregnant and bleeding—inside a freezing basement.
“A vicious woman like you doesn’t deserve a child.”