3040 Book(s) Related to my happy marriage manga online

I'm Nora. Size 18. Transferred to my fourth school in four years. And on my very first day, the hottest guy in class leaned over and told me my seat had a weight limit.
That was Ethan Cross. Lacrosse captain, sharp jaw, zero empathy. He made it his personal mission to remind me I was fat — in the hallway, at lunch, in gym class, wherever he could get a laugh.
Then I found his sketchbook.
He'd left it open in the art room. I should've walked away. I didn't. I turned the page, and there I was — my body, my face, my hands — drawn over and over like he couldn't stop.
None of it was a joke. None of it was ugly.
So what the hell am I supposed to do with that?

For five years, Alpha Rowan Blackwood kept our mate bond secret while the pack waited for another woman to become his Luna. Every time he broke a promise to me, he gave me a binding decree: anything I wanted, his to provide.

I had never asked for jewels, money, or a title. But I was about to collect my hundredth token, and this time I knew what I wanted.

The right to break our bond. And his promise to let me leave.

I am secretly pregnant with the child of my worst enemy—my ruthless stepbrother.
A masquerade mistake left me ruined, and I desperately tried to hide my condition. But Kyle, the Empire's most feared Chief Mage and my lifelong tormentor, cornered me and found my medical crystal.
"Who is the bastard?!" he roared, slamming me against the wall, his ice-blue eyes blazing with murderous jealousy. "I will crush his bones and burn his soul in hellfire!"
I trembled in his shadow. How could I tell this possessive tyrant that the "bastard" he wants to brutally murder is... himself? Now, trapped in a magical chamber that forces us to reveal our darkest secrets or die, my time is running out.

Ethan Bennett went overseas for a month. While he was gone, his family found him a wife.

Faced with the furious man himself, I panicked and blurted out the worst possible greeting.

“Hi, hubby.”

He flushed, then scowled. After a moment, he gave a short, disbelieving laugh.

“Get out.” His low voice left no room for discussion.

Later, though, he would be the one holding me tightly around the waist.

When I was twenty, my family's long-lost biological daughter finally came home.

At her welcome party, I worked all day, yet there wasn't even a seat for me.

My brother asked me to take their new family photo.

My fiancé wore the suit meant for our wedding and stood in the center with his arm linked through hers.

I smiled, pressed the shutter, and quietly left.

By the time they discovered the guest room was empty, my plane was already in the air.

From that day on, Mom waited for me beside meals that went cold.

Dad lost sleep clutching a torn photograph.

My brother and fiancé searched for me like madmen, while the real daughter knelt outside my old bedroom, begging her sister to come home.

I’m in the final stages of stomach cancer. My son just passed away yesterday.
At his funeral, my ex-husband barged in, pointed at our son’s headstone, and accused me of doing anything for attention—even putting on a show like this.
He told me to get lost, to stay far away from the woman he really loves.
So I did exactly as he wanted.
I took my son’s ashes and disappeared into the endless sea.
But now, when I’m truly at death’s door, that same man who once hated me with everything he had is tearing the hospital apart, desperate to save me.
Don’t bother, Lucian.
If there’s a next life, let’s never meet again.

Seven years ago, I staged an affair to set him free, letting him believe I'd betrayed him for money. Now he's back—a celebrated music director, weeks away from his engagement—and I'm just the cleaning woman kneeling at his feet.
"You know this cleaning woman?" someone whispered.
"Seven years, and look how far you've fallen," he said, his voice cold as ice.
I kept my head down, tugging my sleeve over the needle marks the chemo had left behind.
He still thinks I cheated for the money.
He has no idea what it actually cost me to give him this life.

"You're no daughter of this pack," my mother hissed, her golden eyes flashing in the firelight. "If you can't support your Alpha sister, then get out."
I should have seen it coming. In the Ashveil Pack, family means everything—unless you're me. Kiera Thornhart, the disappointment. While my perfect sister Sera got the love, the title, even my mate Tristan, I got a mating ceremony where nobody showed up. Not even the man who swore he'd always be mine.
That night, I ran.
Now I've built a new life in Berlin's underground werewolf syndicate, where strength is the only law that matters. I've learned to fight, to lead, to make wolves twice my size back down with just a look. But when a message comes that Sera's dying, the pack demands my return.
"Come home, Kiera," my father's voice crackles through the phone. "Your sister needs you."
I almost laugh. After everything?
But this time, I'm not the weak wolf they left behind. This time, I have fangs of my own.

"No. Everything that comes out of your mouth is a lie. Say one truth. I dare you to tell me one fucking truth."

"I love you."

"No, you don't. Say something else."

"I can't live without you."

"Shut up, you bastard! How can you say you love me when all you ever do is hurt me?"

Once a predator locks onto its prey, there's no letting go.

Leah Walsh is a lonely wife, starved for the love her husband no longer gives.
Aiden Kingston is a ruthless caporegime of the city's most feared crime family. A man who doesn't understand the word no.

She fights her attraction to him, but one reckless choice shatters her marriage and binds her to him. Now, Leah is trapped in his violent world, where simply standing by his side makes her a target for his enemies. Every attempt to escape his chains only tightens them, and Aiden's obsession grows stronger each passing day.

Will leah break free or surrender to the man who is determined to ruin her and claim her as his?

"I fell in love with a stranger. I didn't know he was my brother."
When I first saw Victor, I didn't see a sibling. I saw a man who set my skin on fire. I saw a pair of dark eyes that reflected my own soul. Our attraction wasn't just a choice—it was a gravity I couldn't escape. For weeks, we existed in a fever dream of late nights and whispered promises, building a future on a foundation I never knew was forbidden.
Then the truth came out. One old photograph, a single name, and my world shattered.
Now, the touch that felt like heaven feels like a sin. But how do you stop your heart from beating for the one person you were never supposed to touch?

In my past life, I signed a marriage agreement, served as a live-in son-in-law for five years, and died in a hospital. Meanwhile, my "wife," Grace, was on the moon, embracing her lover and watching the star rings.
Given a second chance, she threw the agreement in my face at the marriage summit: "Sign it. After the wedding, I'll go find Karl. You'd better act like the legal wife."
I didn't refuse; I just tossed the agreement to my emotional nemesis .
The whole city laughed at my madness.
Until Grace flaunted her "pure-blood heir" at the 100-day celebration, I publicly projected her sterilization report—
the bastard in her arms was the product of her lover and a downtown prostitute.
And her lover was being mutilated in the downtown area.
In this life, I'm not a live-in son-in-law; I'm her gravedigger.

On the day of my final interview for the Yale scholarship, my childhood best friend, Carter, handed me a carton of chocolate milk.
I drank every drop, touched that he’d remembered. When I woke up, the hair I’d been growing for ten years was scattered all over the floor.
The prettiest girl in school twirled her scissors and smiled at him. “Your mom’s sleeping pills work great. I practically shaved the pig bald.”
He leaned against the doorframe, his voice flat. “It’s not like you were ever pretty anyway.”
When I was eight, he promised to marry me once my hair reached my waist.
That day, I dried my tears and gave back the ring his grandmother had saved for “Carter’s bride.”
Later, he waited outside his Yale dorm all day, only to learn that I’d gone to Stanford, three thousand miles away.

A hundred years ago, I was the strongest Delta the Silver Moon Pack had ever produced.

Born with the God Bone, unmatched in power, I had Royal Guard recruiters showing up at my door three times, waiting for me to say yes. The whole pack assumed I'd lead them to glory.

Then came that night. My own family dragged me to the altar in the frozen vault.

My mother cried and said, "Lacey was born broken. Without the God Bone, she'll die."

"You're the older sister. You're strong. You'll survive without it."

I refused.

Grant, my fiancé, pulled the knife on me. Brandon, my brother, pinned down my arms and legs. My parents watched from the shadows, saying nothing.

"Don't be so selfish."

They carved the God Bone out of my body, drained every drop of my heart's blood, and threw me into a vault fifty degrees below zero.

My sister took everything that was mine and became the golden girl everyone adored.

A hundred years passed. I became the Supreme Commander of the Royal Guard.

This year, during recruitment, my adjutant handed me the candidate list. I saw a familiar name and smiled. I picked up my pen and crossed it out.

"Doesn't meet the requirements. Denied."

On the night before my sister's bone marrow transplant, my parents confiscated my EpiPen and locked me in the attic.

Their "genetic consultant" warned them that the medication would contaminate the stem cells meant for my sister.

I had eaten the meal they provided—one secretly laced with lethal traces of nuts.

The resulting anaphylactic swelling was suffocating me completely.

I frantically bashed my head against the door. "My pen... Mom, I can't breathe..."

"Stop putting on a show!" Mom snapped through the wood. "That meal was entirely nut-free! Are you faking an allergic reaction just because you can't stand the thought of your sister finally getting well?"

Her footsteps retreated.

Agonizing pain and oxygen deprivation overtook me as I clawed at the floor until every one of my nails snapped off.

Until my breathing stopped completely.

My name is Damian Lemaître.

In my past life, I was Serafina Camarilla's lapdog for ten years, being drained of my life, used, and squeezed dry of my last bit of value.

I opened my eyes and found myself back at the scene of the blood pact ceremony. She sat on the high seat, waiting for me to kneel down and swear the oath with the same excitement as in my previous life.

"Damian Flamel, are you willing?"

"No."

Intro: I'm an S-Class superhuman, but I was locked in a basement for five full years, subjected to inhuman abuse and torment. All they wanted was to drain my blood and energy dry. I once believed that if I could just endure it all, I would see my family again. Until my wife Valen's voice came through the intercom and revealed that it was all a lie. I will turn my fury into strength and tear it all apart with my own hands.

The day I signed the divorce papers, Ethan Frost lit up the night sky with thousands of drones spelling out, ‘Vivian Moore, I love you.’ The whole city celebrated his new romance.
On our daughter, Sophie’s birthday, he watched coldly as Vivian’s daughter snatched away her favorite Elsa princess cake—and didn’t even blink when I was shoved down the stairs. Bleeding and trembling, I looked up to see him tenderly massaging Vivian’s feet.
But what truly shattered me was the day Sophie struggled in the pool—Ethan held me back, eyes dark, roaring, “What do you want?”
Later, he scrambled to Sophie’s photo on his knees, crying “Where’s Sophie? Bring her out.” While I only felt absurd, I smiled through my tears “you will never see Sophie again—ever.”

I was born the year the Rift opened. They said I would close it. They were wrong about so many things.

My name is Mia, and everything I touch is dying.

The flowers beneath my mother's window turned black overnight. The herbs I gathered at dawn rotted in my hands. When the court wizard finally told me the truth—that someone cursed me, that my presence would kill everyone I love—I realized the prophecy everyone believed was never meant to save the kingdom. It was meant to destroy me.

So I ran. Not to fulfill some destiny, but to survive it.

Now I'm traveling with a hunter who lost his companions to the same curse I carry, chasing fragments of a prophecy the Fae sing differently. An elf took a baby from the palace the night I was born. And somewhere between the lies I've been told and the truth I'm hunting, I'm starting to suspect: What if I'm not the princess from the prophecy at all?

My life took a turn for the worse when I married an arrogant billionaire who made me pregnant. Little did I know that this was just the beginning of my misery. However, a sudden and unexpected tragedy completely transformed my life, igniting a burning rage and deep contempt for him.

Believed to be dead by everyone, I have spent the past four years plotting my revenge. Returning now, my sole purpose is to make my billionaire ex-husband pay for what he did. With my own wealth, I will inflict torment upon his already debt-ridden existence.

The man I despise the most, Mr. Diego Alfonzo, is the target of my vengeance. I have vowed to myself that I will seek retribution against him.

My crave for revenge is insatiable; I yearn to witness his suffering.

I’m a top assassin.

Three years ago, on a rainy night, I was being hunted when a stranger took a bullet for me. As he lay dying, he grabbed my hand and begged me to protect his son—and to keep living in his place.

To escape my pursuers and keep that promise, I changed my face, took his identity, and stayed by the boy’s side as his father.

His wife was arrogant, cruel, and constantly cheating. For the child—and to protect my cover—I endured all of it.

Until today.

She drugged me.

When I woke up, a doctor was holding a blade over my chest. They were about to take my heart.

Lying on that operating table, I finally learned the truth: her family had been trafficking organs all along.

That man died three years ago because he discovered it, and she arranged the crash that killed him.

She murdered the man who saved me. Now she wants to kill me too.

She still thinks I’m the same weak doctor who gets out of breath after a short run.

She doesn’t know I’m resistant to anesthesia.

And she definitely doesn’t know these hands have held scalpels—and snapped far too many necks.

At the magic academy’s party, I overheard my werewolf boyfriend in the lounge saying he was going to destroy me.

"Alexander, her magic core is merely experiencing a temporary disruption. According to the academy infirmary's suturing protocol, her magical output will fully recover in three days. Why did you lie and tell her the core is necrotic and must be dug out?" the school doctor asked.

My werewolf boyfriend's deep voice was as cold as silver salt scraping across glass—

"If she doesn't drop out of the Magic Scroll Championship finals, how can Vivienne win?"
"I cannot let her destroy Vivienne's dream!"

I froze in the shadows of the corridor, my fingertips going numb.
It turned out that the love I believed in, the protection and the future he kept promising me, were nothing but him treating me as an obstacle to his childhood sweetheart's success.

If that’s the case—

I don't need this man anyway!

My mafia husband has a childhood sweetheart. Whenever she or her son needed anything, he would eagerly rush to their aid.
This time, when our son Noah suffered from acute retinopathy and desperately needed his signature for surgery, he claimed she was in mortal danger and couldn't leave.
Because he wasn't there to sign the paperwork, Noah ultimately went blind.
Yet later, on his sweetheart's Instagram, I saw that he was just dining with her and her son...

Six years ago, Marlowe Kestrel drowned in the Duskhaven canals, or at least that is what the obituary said, what the empty coffin implied, and what every ruling House in the city has believed ever since.

In reality she swam two streets over, bribed a mortician with a forged signature, and built herself a new, gloriously unremarkable life as a small time magical forger who fixes other people's problems for coin and never, ever asks about bloodlines. It was a good plan.

It worked for six entire years, which is roughly five years and eleven months longer than anyone expected a Kestrel to survive in hiding. Then Jonas, the only man alive who knew her real name, turns up dead in his own workshop with a mark burned into his palm that Marlowe has spent her whole life trying to forget she carries too, and the only lead worth following belongs to Cassian Draven, heir to the most feared criminal House in the city, a man with a smile like a drawn blade and a family reputation built on making problems disappear as thoroughly as Marlowe once did herself.

Cassian recognizes her in under a minute, does not turn her in, and instead offers a deal she has no good reason to accept and every practical reason to take, pose as his fiancée at the season's summit of ruling Houses, help him smoke out whoever is hunting them both, and maybe, if she is very lucky and very careful, walk away with her second fake death arranged before anyone notices the first one was fake too.

The trouble is, the longer she spends pretending to love a Draven, the harder it gets to remember that hating him was ever supposed to be the easy part.

On my wedding night, I discovered the man in my bed wasn't my husband.
It was his twin brother—the one the family had exiled.
In my previous life, I exposed them in a rage.
My cheating husband came back, smashed my head open, and threw me into the ocean to be fed to the sharks.
But this time, reborn with a second chance, I cupped the face of the man in front of me—the face identical to my husband's—and slowly untied my wedding dress.
"Since he personally delivered you to my bed, then from now on... you're the husband."
This time, I'm going to raise up the loyal stand-in, and take everything from that bastard.

Just before my wedding, my fate mate, my Alpha fiancé, Micheal, stripped me of my wedding dress—our wedding dress—and handed it to his mistress, Becky Porter.
Not only that, but he locked me in the dressing room like some rabid wolf he needed to contain.
"Becky has a terminal illness.She just wants to experience being a bride before she dies."
I lunged forward, my wolf howling inside me. Alpha's strength pressed against mine, his dominance forcing my muscles to lock. My claws twitched, itching to break free.
"You bastard!" I snarled, my breath ragged.
Micheal barely blinked. Instead, he let out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head .
"She’s dying, and you can’t even show a little compassion?" His tone dripped with disappointment, as if I were the villain here. "You’re only losing a wedding, but Becky… Becky is losing her dreams and her life."

I thought I was the woman David couldn’t live without.
For our marriage, I gave up my career to stay in the kitchen, learning to cook all his favorite meals, and I endured every bit of hostility from his family without complaint.
I thought that was what love looked like—quiet devotion, two people growing old together. Until our third wedding anniversary.
During the World Cup final broadcast watched by millions, I saw him in the stadium stands… kissing my younger sister.
By the time I made it home, Lily already had my house key in her hand, standing in my own home like she had every right to be there.
“Don’t you understand?” she whispered with a smile. “You can’t even give him a child. What makes you think you deserve to be his wife?”
David didn’t stop her. He didn’t defend me. He just watched. And let it happen.
What they forgot was simple. That house? It was mine. Not his.

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."

While I was being kidnapped, tortured, and murdered in the horse stable of our own family farm, my all-powerful chaebol fiancée was helping my green tea younger brother try on wedding attire.
Before dying, with my broken, blood-stained finger, I dialed the last desperate call for help.
On the other end of the phone, her tone was filled with scorn and impatience: "Vincent, can't you even tolerate a little grievance from your younger brother? Let's just cancel the engagement, and I'll replace you with him as the groom."
Later, I truly died.
My soul drifted in mid-air, watching coldly as the whole family thought I was faking death to make a scene. My older sister even kicked over my disfigured body on the haystack in disgust: "Get up right now, stop pretending to be pitiful here!"
Until the flashlight's beam completely illuminated my ghastly, rigid face, and the shattered phone screen, still stuck on the moment she hung up, clutched tightly in my dead hand...
That forever aloof, arrogant female CEO finally went weak in the knees, kneeling in the foul-smelling, blood-soaked filth, and utterly lost her mind.

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.

I’m a retired special forces soldier.

Three months ago, my little brother vanished—and every lead went dead.

I tracked the trail to a private rehab clinic on a tropical island. On the surface, it’s wellness and recovery. Underneath, it’s an organ market.

Following the clinic led me to one person—her. She specializes in luring “donors” through the front door.

To avenge my brother, I got close on purpose and let her become my girlfriend.

She thought I was easy money, a body delivered to her table, and she brought me into that clinic herself.

She didn’t know I’d been waiting for this moment for three months.

On the operating table, the needle hovered three centimeters from my skin.

She thought I was finished.

She didn’t know these hands have held a gun—and snapped more than a few necks.

In my past life, my brother-in-law predicted the coming of an extreme cold apocalypse and claimed he would awaken a spatial ability on the day it arrived.
I didn't believe him, but under pressure from my wife's family, I purchased supplies anyway. Then the frozen apocalypse actually came.
I thought we'd survive together as a family, but my brother-in-law had bragged about his spatial ability and massive supplies before awakening. When his ability manifested, the space was pitifully small, and everyone he'd told came to rob us.
When food ran out, my wife's family turned on me, killing and eating me.
Reborn, I've decided to take revenge on my wife's entire family. And it all starts with secretly building my own shelter.

Trigger Warning: 18+, rape, abuse, Mature and sexual content, slavery, violence.

"Don't get the ideas that you are ever going to receive anything other than hate from me, Athena. I don't need a mate. I don't need a weak pathetic bond like this to survive," He growled as he grabbed a fistful of my hair and harshly threw me on the bed.

I was naked and helpless in front of his menacing eyes.

"Sebastian, please don't do this..."

"I have purchased you from that auction only because you'll come in use to tame my wolf, and you are nothing but a good that I will use every day and night for my pleasure. And your life in hell starts from today."

"Please don't..." I begged but none of my words affected him.

I backed away till my body hit against the headboard but he dragged me by my ankles and shredded the last piece of fabric, my panties, and threw it away.


After being sold by my parents to auctioneers because of being a wolf-less she-wolf, When fate landed me in my mate's arms from the auction, for once I thought I was finally going to find happiness...someone who'd love me. But it was another hell I landed into.

Sebastian Valdez-- was known as the cursed Alpha who killed his own father. Everyone feared him, his barbaric deeds had no bounds, and he did not have a heart. He only had one rule in his life--Thrive in others' pain. But what he did to me was even worse.

He snatched my innocence, abused me, raped me every night, hurt me beyond extreme, and left me with only the want to escape from his cage but that was until I got to know what his curse was......

"Your pussy is dripping for us, begging for us to use it." His deep voice sent shivers down my spine.

"Do you want that, buttercup? Do you want us to give your little cunt what it craves?"

"Y…yes, sir." I breathed


Joanna Clover's hard work through university paid off when she got a secretary job offer to her dream company, Dangote Group of Industries. The company is owned by three mafia heirs, they don't only own a joint business, they are also lovers and had been together since their college days.

They are sexually attracted to one another but they share everything together including women and they change them like clothes. They are known as the world's most dangerous playboys.

They want to share her but will she accept the fact that they fuck each other?

Will she be able to navigate business and pleasure?

She has never been touched by a man before let alone three, all at the same time. Will she oblige?

♡ I could see the pain flicker in his eyes when he finally said: "I don't think I can be friends with you anymore, Amari." ♡

Amari Vasilios, the CEO of the fast growing Advertising Company in California, got her heart broken by her best friend five years ago. She never thought that out of all the people her best friend, Zane Shaw, would be the one who would break her heart first... only because of a girl he had known for FOUR MONTHS.

She was livid and she still is. She ignored and tried to avoid him as much as possible and for the past five years it worked.

But now.

Now she's staring at the invitation letter in her hand. It was a wedding invitation. From her brother and his fiancee.

She had to go home. She had to go back to New York and attend the wedding.

Attending the wedding means seeing him again.

Attending the wedding means seeing the person she had successfully avoid for five years.

After five years of a secret marriage, her husband never showed any affection in public. Sophia Johnson had always chalked it up to his personality—until he took their twin sons and his first love out for a candlelit dinner, earning rave reviews online as the "most stunning family." That’s when her heart finally shattered completely.
Hearing her own sons call the woman "Auntie" repeatedly, Sophia came to her senses. A husband who didn’t love her, sons who were estranged from her—she didn’t want any of it. From that moment on, she would only love herself.
After the divorce, she returned to her hometown village to pick up her old profession: growing medicinal herbs, treating rare illnesses, and developing skincare miracles. Luxury cars often arrived late at night in the remote village, drawn by her skills.
When word got out that she was looking for a father for her daughter, elite scientists, financial tycoons, A-list idols, award-winning actors... All kinds of tycoons emerged, volunteering themselves, hoping to catch her eye.
Later, her ex-husband knelt on a bed of durians, his face filled with remorse. "Soph, I love you. Will we remarry?"
She scoffed. "William Smith, isn’t the forbidden fruit sweet enough?"
Her twin sons knelt on computer keyboards side by side. "Mommy, we only want you!"
Sophia waved them off. "No, I can’t afford you."

"Do you hate me?" He asked, nibbling my ear with his teeth. I couldn't form words. I felt... I didn't know what I was feeling. A minute ago, I was sure I hated him but now that he's so close, so close that I could feel him breathing on my skin, I wasn't sure.

"Do you hate me?" He asked again, his voice a low growl in my ear.
"I...I..." I tried to form words but his lips left my ear and trailed kisses down my neck.
“I need words,” he whispered. “Tell me you hate me.”
My fingers tightened on his shirt as he continued.
“Say you hate me, and I’ll stop right now and walk away.”
What? There was a pause, I still hated him but I don't want him to stop..
“Don’t…and I won’t be responsible for what I do next.”

Lena Hartwell is a girl who has been bullied all her life for being plus size. After the sudden death of her father, her family falls deep into debt, leaving her with no choice but to accept the highest paying tutoring job she can find to support her Mom. The job turns out to be tutoring one of her bullies, the school’s hottest quarterback, Jace Dawson and despite hating him, she takes it the job because her family is at risk of losing everything they have left.

What happens when the hatred they have for each other slowly turns into something darker, when forced proximity turns every argument into temptation?
He is everything she is taught to fear.
She is the weakness he was taught to crush.
And when one forbidden moment shatters the boundary between hate and desire, will Lena be able to walk away from the boy who might ruin her life?

Denise Montgomery is drugged by her father and stepmother and sent to a client's bed—only to wake up next to Jason Harrington, the powerful CEO of the Harrington Group. Believing he's just a hired escort, she leaves behind a handwritten IOU for two hundred dollars as payment and walks away without a second thought.

But Jason isn't just any man—he's her sister's fiancé.

To get revenge on her manipulative family, Denise begins to seduce Jason, playing a dangerous game of temptation. What starts as calculated payback soon turns into a fiery entanglement neither of them can escape. And when Denise tries to leave, Jason makes it clear: she lit the fire, and now she has to face the heat.

I'm Elowë Moran, and I thought Saint-Lumière would be my fresh start—a beautiful European city, a top nursing program, and a chance to build something real with my best friend Shera and boyfriend Oli.

Then I went hiking in the wrong forest.

What I saw that night should have been impossible. Wolves that walked like men. Eyes that glowed red in the darkness. A man who snapped necks with his bare hands and set bodies on fire like it was routine.

I ran. I survived. And then I woke up in a sex club wearing nothing but scraps of lace, with no memory of how I got there.

That's when I met Cassian Asgard.

He's a vampire. A real one—not the kind from movies, but something far older and infinitely more dangerous. He moves through shadows like they're doorways. He heals with a touch. And when he kissed me in that club, my heart should have stopped from fear.

Instead, his heart beat. Once. Just once.

He says it means something. That I'm his. That women he's kissed don't get to date other men.

But I have a boyfriend. I have a life. I have a mother back home who needs me to finish this degree and come back whole.

My uncle says to forget what I saw. To go back to normal life and pretend none of this is real.

But Cassian won't let me forget.

And the worst part? Some traitorous corner of my heart doesn't want him to.

Because the way Cassian Asgard looks at me isn't just possessiveness.

It's something far more consuming.

“This isn’t right…” I whispered.
But my stepbrothers grabbed me anyway and ran their warm hands all over my body. “You belong to us, you are our pet, our sub and it will remain like this forever.”
—---------------------------------------------
My mother and I have been running for the past three years– running from a vampire who is obsessed with owning me. He catches up to us eventually and we’re about to start running again when my mother announces her marriage to the most powerful man in the pack– Lycan Viktor Ravenwood.
But the problem is that he has hybrid triplet sons– vampire & werewolf breeds– who are as ruthless as monsters and I am forced to move in with them.
When Vladimir's eyes and that of his triplet brothers lock onto mine, I feel a forbidden flame ignite within me, burning away reason and morality and it forces us into a dark, toxic and forbidden relationship.
But our twisted desire is just the beginning, and before I know it, I'm already trapped between my stepbrothers' dark passion and the vampire cult hunting me.
There’s also a curse that haunts my stepbrothers which might be my only salvation— or my ultimate destruction…

“Want me to save your family and company? Then earn it.”
He sat on the couch, his icy gaze fixed on me as I knelt before him.
I scooted closer and unzipped his suit pants, revealing his thick penis that filled my entire view.
The next moment, I felt cold fingers forcing their way into my mouth and teasing my tongue.
His seductive voice echoed from above, "I taught you before - be careful with your teeth and do it properly."
"Yes, Master." I lowered my head and took his penis deep into my mouth.
He was the Mafia King, a billionaire with the power to dictate life and death with a single word.
But he was also Alex Phillip—the man I had coldly abandoned seven years ago for his poverty.
My ex, now my master.
Continuously updating, with 2 chapters added daily.

Ivy went home only to find the man she devoted her whole life to cheating with her elder sister. It was supposed to be their wedding day and he didn't show up,breaking his promise after making her give up on her career. Heartbroken, she found solace in the bar and she met someone in her drunken state.
The next morning, she had no way to return home because she was now homeless. She pleaded with the one who helped her to take her in, but he refused. Then it struck her.
"I heard you are looking for a wife over the phone. Let's get married, she proposed.
A few weeks later, the media were surprise to see a once famous actress with a renowned billionaire, leading to interviews. Mr. Zack Anderson, usually dismissive of reporters, seemed different that day.
"Mr. Zack Anderson, did the once famous actress seduce you for personal gain?"
"Who has the right to seduce me other than my wife?" he replied, and someone in his living room stood up.
"She married my uncle."

Kyra caressed her growing belly—she was finally pregnant with her best friend Nathan's child after three years of marriage. But when she returned home with the happy news, her Alpha husband was on his knees, begging her to end their bond.
"Sophia is back," Nathan’s voice raw with guilt. "My fated mate."
Heartbroken, Kyra agreed to dissolve their union, hiding her pregnancy to avoid burdening him. Yet when she tried to leave, Nathan refused to let go. "Can't we at least stay friends?"
She wrenched her wrist free. "You lost that right."
Nathan didn't understand these feelings until Kyra was gone and then he knew this wasn't just friendship. This was love. And he'd fight to get her back.
Then he appeared—Kieran, Kyra's stepbrother and the infamous Alpha from Raven Shadow Pack. He kept her captive, craving every inch of her.
"We're siblings,"Kyra gasped.
His teeth scraped the mating mark on her neck as he growled."'Not by blood.Run from him all you want, little wolf. But you belong to me now."
Trapped between two impossible loves—where does Kyra truly belong?

One look at the man sitting next to mom tells me everything I need to know.
He is Aaron's dad.
Mom is getting married to Aaron's dad.
I had a one night stand with Aaron Coleman seven years ago and in the heat of the moment, after I left the motel he'd fucked me in, I spent the following week writing a fictional story about us.
I'd entirely forgotten about that story until now. The story went ahead to become a New York bestseller the following year but nobody, besides Juliet, knows I'm the author.
Aaron Coleman is about to be my stepbrother. He's the protagonist of a romance book I'd written and dumped years ago.
And as I move slowly, towards the table to join the small party, I realize that the coming weeks is going to be worse than the past seven years of my life, combined.
SEVEN YEARS AGO
"It's almost like you're a virgin," Aaron blurts out in disbelief as he slowly tries to move.His remark makes me feel defensive so I don't know when I get heated and respond in a sharp voice. "What if I am?"
Aaron stiffens against me, his body hovering above mine.
"That's going to be a problem, cupcake," he says in an entirely different voice that tells me I'm in danger...

I was trying to steal a child from my comatose billionaire husband, but just as I touched him, his dark eyes suddenly snapped open.

"Thirty million dowry, and you are sold to the Duncan family." My stepmother's words echoed in my head. I was forced to marry Brandon, a man rumored to be a ruthless genius, but who had been lying in a dirty room as a vegetable for a year.

My family abandoned me, and my fiancé slept with my adopted sister. I had nothing left. If Brandon died, I would be thrown onto the streets. So, looking at his breathtakingly handsome face and perfectly sculpted body, I made a crazy decision: I needed his heir.

I locked the door, trembling as I took off his clothes. "Just treat me as a tool, please don't mind," I whispered to his sleeping face.

I straddled him, my heart pounding out of my chest. I thought he couldn't feel a thing. I thought I was safe. But just as I leaned down, a slender, bone-chilling hand suddenly grabbed my wrist like a vice.

I screamed, my blood running cold.

His ink-black eyes, filled with three feet of ice and demonic fury, stared right into my soul. The man who had been declared braindead was awake.

"What did you do to me?" His voice was hoarse, his grip tightening around my throat. "Do you know who I am?"

I was trapped under the most dangerous man in the country, and I had just been caught trying to use him.

“You’re staring at me again,” Jake murmured.

“Maybe because you keep touching me.”

His mouth nearly brushed mine. “Maybe because you like it.”

I hated how badly I did.

Jake Montgomery used to be my secret. Now he’s my stepbrother’s best friend — and living under the same roof again.

After a mysterious accident erased his memories, Jake forgot everything that happened between us that summer. I didn’t.

I remember his hands, his mouth, the promises whispered in the dark — and the blood on the road afterward.

Coming back to Lincoln Heights was supposed to be a fresh start. Instead, every look from Jake feels dangerous. Even without his memories, he still watches me like some part of him remembers exactly what we were.

Every touch, every fight, every jealous glance pulls us closer to the truth buried between us — a truth that could destroy us both.

Because some memories were buried for a reason.

And some people were never supposed to fall in love twice.

Be my slave for 100 nights, and I'll turn you into a lycan so you can be with your lycan lover for as long as you both shall live.


Matilda “Tilly” Parker’s life falls apart when her lycan boyfriend, Xavier Graves, leaves her with nothing but a vague “trust me.”
Human, heartbroken, and fueled by cheap wine and spite, she crosses paths with Cillian Ravenscroft, the vampire CEO of Valmont International. A century-old predator with ice-blue eyes and a smile that could tempt a saint.
Cillian is too smooth, too handsome, too everything—all sharp jaw, piercing gaze, and a smug charm that makes Tilly’s skin crawl and her heart race in ways she refuses to admit.
Cillian offers her a wild solution: become a lycan herself.
And he’s willing to make it happen—for a price. One hundred nights as his personal “slave.”
But she’s no helpless damsel. Scrappy, impulsive, and armed with a mouth that won’t quit, Tilly’s ready to claw her way through this twisted agreement. Yet as the nights slip by, the line between survival and seduction blurs—and the price of becoming a lycan might be far greater than just her heart.
Will Tilly fight her way back to Xavier—or surrender to the vampire who owns her nights?
One hundred nights. One impossible choice. And a hunger neither of them expected.

Ethan cheated on me.
Humiliated me.
Treated my love like a joke.

So I should have hated the Archer family.

Instead, I fell for the one man I could never resist—Julian Hall.

His father.

The powerful billionaire who rescued me at my lowest point.
The man whose hands felt sinful on my skin.
The man who looked at me like I belonged beside him.

Falling in love with Julian was already dangerous.

But becoming his wife?

That turned Ethan’s entire world into hell.

I crawled out of a mental hospital in the middle of the night—bleeding, broken, and desperate to see my husband.

Instead, I found him toasting champagne with the sister who put me there.

My daughter was starved in an orphanage. My father died alone, his grave unmarked.

And my husband? He threw me back into the snow to die.

A stranger pulled me from the cold. He didn’t offer comfort. He offered a choice.

“Do you want to make them pay?”

Now the man who buried me is begging on his knees. But hell taught me one thing:

Some sins don’t deserve forgiveness.