1741 Book(s) Related to charlie wilson i still have you

I came to the dragon king's court with poison on my tongue and murder in my veins. But every "I love you" I feed him to hide the toxin starts sounding less like a lie and more like the truth that will kill me ~]..

Seraphine, the only surviving vampire, has come for the dragon king. He murdered her parents and rapped her. Now she has crossed continents to end his existence.

She fed him with a dragon's Bane for months, only to discover that she had been killing the wrong person. Now, she would stop at nothing to save him.

" I'm ready to die for him to live ". Her trembling voice echoes in the woods.

Who is the killer? ].. She could vow it was Lucien, the dragon king. What went wrong?

Mysteries must be unraveled, and the buried past must surface.

LOVE, REVENGE, REGRET, DEATH- MISTAKEN IDENTITY…

"I yield." Two words that cost Sienna everything and bought back the only man who ever made her want a future worth staying for.
Sienna has spent months running from the Yosemite pack, hiding the one secret that could get her killed: she's an unclaimed female Alpha. When West-Slope's Alpha, Henry, catches her mid-rescue during a vampire attack, captivity turns into an attraction neither of them can control. But Henry is already promised to Valerie, daughter of the wolf who murdered his stepfather, and Sienna's monstrous ex, Damon, will burn two packs to the ground before he lets his stolen mate walk free.
With a blood-bound oath threatening Henry's life and a vampire conspiracy arming the undead with daylight power, Sienna has one choice left: stay hidden, or finally claim the power she's spent her whole life fearing. Can Sienna and Henry's bond survive an oath neither can break? And what happens when the girl everyone underestimated finally stops running?

I was eighteen, working double shifts at a restaurant, when four men walked in and stared at me like they'd seen a ghost.

They said I looked exactly like someone they'd lost. Vivian Bailey. Missing three years. The love of their lives.

That night, they kidnapped me. I tried to escape, but every attempt failed.

For six months, they dressed me in her clothes, made me sit in her chair at dinner, called me by her name, closed their eyes when they kissed me. I was a breathing doll, a replacement they could touch but never truly see.

But as time passed, something shifted. Martin noticed I took my coffee differently than she did. Lawrence brought me mystery novels instead of her romance books. Dennis stopped flinching at my laugh. Philip actually smiled at my sarcasm.

They started saying my name. Eliana. Not hers.

I found myself falling for the illusion of tenderness. I almost convinced myself this twisted captivity could become something real.

Until they got Vivian's call for help.

When the hospital called, I thought I was going to lose him.

The moment I burst into his room, Nathan was alive, but the way he looked at me, like I was a complete stranger.

"I'm sorry, you are...?"

My husband had forgotten everything. Three years of marriage, from the moment we met to falling in love, all erased.

But what's even more absurd? He stared at his bother Nolan and said, "Did I just... fall in love at first sight with a stranger?"

Listening to him frantically ask Nolan in the hospital room "Is this normal?", a crazy idea suddenly hit me—

Three years ago, Nathan "acquired" me in just three months. From his secretary to his wife, so fast it felt like closing a business deal. I loved him, but something was always missing... like a real courtship, real romance.

Now, he has amnesia.

What if I told him we were just in a contract marriage? That our contract was ending soon and we were about to separate?

I thought escaping to Vegas would help me forget my cheating ex. Instead, I had the hottest one-night stand of my life with a mysterious stranger in a hotel bar, then panicked and ran before sunrise.

Two days later, I'm sitting across from my "arranged" blind date, and my stomach drops. It's him. Same intense eyes. Same devastating smile.

Now my dad expects us to get serious. His dad's breathing down his neck too. So we make a crazy deal: fake an engagement to get our families off our backs, then figure out if this thing between us is real.

I died in a goddamn plane crash hunting down my husband who ran off with his "true love."

That lovesick moron completely screwed me over!

My sister Sofia and I are twins, born into a mafia family, but I'm the only one who actually inherited the ruthless gene. My sister? Total sweetheart and naive as hell.

The Romano family handpicked me for their heir Alessandro. They figured my cunning could rebuild their crumbling empire. What a joke. My marriage was a complete nightmare. My husband Alessandro despised everything about me, my ambition, my scheming, my brain. He wouldn't even touch me. Eventually, he ditched me for his "true love" and ran off with her. And his family had the audacity to force me to go drag his ass back home!

Meanwhile, Dante De Luca, heir to the most powerful family around - married my sister. I'm betting his stepmother deliberately chose Sofia to sabotage him, trap him with some weak, innocent little wife. So Sofia got screwed over too. Dante shipped her off to some remote estate the day after their wedding and just... abandoned her there. When Dante got murdered, they killed her too.

As that plane was going down, I was furious at how unfair it all was. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back seven days before my engagement party.

Perfect. God's giving me a second shot, and this time, I'm the one who's gonna marry Dante De Luca.

When my parents and my fiancé Gilbert asked me once again to donate my kidney to my cousin Yvonne, who was hospitalized with kidney failure, I didn't cry or scream.

I simply said one word: "Okay."

My parents and Gilbert were stunned. They rushed to have me sign the voluntary donation form, afraid I’d change my mind.

Some days later, they sent me to the operating room.

Dad said, "Yvonne will finally be saved. We're so proud of you."

Mom said, "After the surgery, we'll make it up to you."

Gilbert looked tenderly at Yvonne and said, "When you're better, where should we travel?"

What they didn't know was that the day I agreed, I'd just received my diagnosis, stage four cancer. Three months to live.

As I lay on the cold operating table, as the anesthesia began to take effect, I only wanted to know one thing:

If I die on this operating table, will they regret it?

Five yeas ago, we were hosting a family dinner when I walked into the study and found my father with his mistress.

He looked at me, voice flat and cold: "Alice Russo, you don't tell your mother about this. Trust me, you can't handle the fallout."

I didn't listen. Ran straight to my mother in tears and told her everything.

That night, Mother had her people remove the woman from the property.

The next morning, the woman's daughter Anya ran my mother down with her car at the docks.

That's when I realized, I was completely alone. Because my dad is taking his bastard daughter's side.

I called Victor Castro, my husband, 99 times. He never answered once.

I had a breakdown at the family tribunal. They physically removed me and had me committed to a psychiatric facility in Sicily, the worst kind of place you can imagine.

Five years later, Victor finally spoke to me.

The transport stopped outside the facility that day. Sunlight hit my eyes.

Two guards helped me to the car. My father stood there with a line of his men behind him.

In the crowd, I recognized Peter Thompson, one of my mother's most loyal people.

He gave me the smallest nod. Something flickered in his eyes.

I kept my expression neutral and got in the car.

The door closed. Victor sat across from me.

He lit a cigar and said it without any preamble:

"The day Anya ran your mother down at the docks? I paid for her legal team. I provided the witnesses. I signed the autopsy report myself."

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.

Pain wasn't just a feeling, it was a rusted, serrated blade dragging inch by excruciating inch from my gut to my sternum.

I forced my eyes open against the harsh, unforgiving fluorescents of the ICU. Gauze. So much gauze, heavy and soaked with my own blood.

"Recipient's heart is stable. No signs of rejection."

The nurse’s hushed voice bled through the crack in the door.

"But bed one... the delay was too long. Her uterus was necrotic. We had to remove it."

I bit down on my cracked lip until I tasted copper.

So this was it.

The grand finale my beloved family had orchestrated for me.

I saved a dying mobster three years ago. Vincent Ricci—New York's most feared Godfather.

He decided I was his. Private jets, five-million-dollar proposals, the whole nine yards. I fell for it.

The night before our wedding, his enemies took me. Three days of torture left me blind. Everyone said he'd never marry damaged goods. He married me anyway and spent three years treating me like a queen.

Yesterday I fell down the stairs and my sight came back.

But that's when I found out about my perfect husband's dirty secret.

I've been with Michael for five years, stood by him as he clawed his way up from nobody to mafia boss.

He promised me we'd get to city hall and make it official once he made it to the top, and today's supposed to be the day we finally register our marriage.

He's already postponed our registration eight times before because of his first love, Yvaine Price.

This is attempt number nine, and I'm not giving him a tenth.

I'm the only daughter of a mafia leader. I married Marco, an outsider, against my father's wishes.

Six months ago, my father died in a car accident. Marco took over part of the family business. One day when I was feeling down, I passed through the slums and saved a girl named Gianna who was being beaten for stealing food. I took her in as my assistant and treated her like a sister.

But when I was six months pregnant, I walked into the company break room and found Gianna in lingerie, seducing Marco.

I ordered my guards to send her back to the slums immediately.

Marco tried to plead for her. I cut him off coldly: "I don't want to see her again."

He went silent for a moment but didn't oppose my decision.

Over the next three months, Marco seemed warm and caring on the surface but grew increasingly distant. I thought he was just busy with work and decided to help him after the baby was born.

My due date is this week.

Last night, Marco lulled me to sleep like always, his voice so gentle.

But now when I wake up, I find myself lying in the middle of a deserted forest.

And my husband, holding Gianna whom I had sent away, looked at me arrogantly and said, "Since you love sending people away so much, I suppose it shouldn't be a problem for me to send you here to give birth, should it?"

No one would believe that Lorenzo Moretti's wife—the mafia Don's wife—

had to kneel in his study and beg him to approve three hundred thousand dollars to save her brother's life.

All because he thought a woman from Brooklyn's slums needed constant reminding of her place.

Just last night, kidnappers sent photos of my brother's severed finger, and I got on my knees begging him to sign that goddamn form.

His trusted advisor Sofia stamped "REJECTED" in red ink, sneering: "Insufficient proof."

Lorenzo didn't know I endured this humiliation because I once loved him.

Now Sofia told me my brother was dead, dumped in the Hudson River.

I don't need to be his caged canary anymore.

My husband, Arthur, forced me to take private training sessions with his buddy Marcus, saying my body wasn’t good enough for him to really enjoy himself in bed. But on the very first day, Marcus started getting handsy with me.

“Coach, stop. I’m here to work out, not have an affair,” I bit back a moan, trying to push away the “help” he was giving me with my squats.

What I didn’t expect was for him to start rubbing his thing against my pussy.

"You're my mate. I promise I will never lie to you," Gideon vows the morning after he hits Clara with his car and the bond snaps into place but Clara has spent years learning that every promise a wolf makes comes with a leash attached.
Clara has survived years alone in the city by hiding what she is a female wolf shifter who fled her old pack after it destroyed her family. When a dangerous new alpha, Damon, hunts her down and tries to force a mate bond with a stolen witch's potion, Clara barely escapes only to collide, literally, with Gideon, a stranger whose touch triggers a real, unbreakable imprint.
Pulled deeper into a world of pack politics, corrupt cops, and a second mate she never expected in Caleb, Clara must decide whether trust is worth the risk. Damon isn't done hunting her. Can a woman raised to survive alone learn to let two men and a pack finally catch her? And will love be enough when the wrong alpha refuses to let her go?

In a world where werewolves rule with an iron fist, Fiona Lawson's existence is defined by pain and struggle. Abused, bullied, and considered nothing more than a slave and omega, she endures a life devoid of hope and love. But when fate intertwines her path with Sebastian Rossi, an alpha lycan king and ruthless billionaire CEO of a mafia empire, their shared history of rejection and secrets collide.

Fiona, as a human and wolfless, carries a secret within her—a secret pregnancy borne from a forbidden past. As she becomes a target of a clandestine organisation seeking powerful werewolf offspring, Fiona's life takes a treacherous turn. Caught between danger and desire, she finds herself drawn closer to Sebastian, their forced proximity reigniting emotions they thought long buried.

But the path to redemption is paved with unforeseen twists. Fiona discovers an unexpected strength within herself, awakening dormant lycan abilities that challenge the very essence of her existence. As her power grows, she becomes entangled in a web of intrigue, manipulation, and the allure of a reverse harem—werewolf twins, triplets, or even quadruplets, each vying for her heart.

In this dark and sensual tale, her journey transcends mere survival. From a victim of circumstance, she emerges as a force to be reckoned with, embracing her inner power and defying the odds stacked against her. As she battles enemies and confronts her past, Fiona learns the true meaning of love, loyalty, and the courage to forge her destiny.

"The Redemption" is an alluring blend of werewolf fantasy, mafia intrigue, and tantalising romance. Dive into a world where second chances, secret pregnancies, and the allure of a reverse harem take centre stage. Will Fiona's resiliency and the ruthless charm of Sebastian be enough to overcome the trials they face?

So after this weird plague, basically all the alphas disappeared. Only a few packs had alpha bloodlines left, so they formed an alliance. Whoever could produce an alpha pup in the younger generation becomes the next pack leader.

I'm Natalia from Moon Stone pack. My dad's the alpha, I've got alpha blood, but I can't shift. So everyone treats me like garbage. My mom died young, dad remarried this beta luna who had Stella, my half-sister who's just a beta but gets treated better than me.

In my past life, at the mating ceremony, Damon picked me. I thought I'd won. Turns out the bastard was actually an omega using black magic to fake being beta. When we mated, we had an omega pup instead of an alpha heir.

What does this piece of shit do? Blames ME. Says I faked my alpha bloodline. Then he kills me and my baby and dumps our bodies with the rogues.

But I'm back. It's the mating ceremony again, except this time Damon's going after Stella instead of me. Which makes me think, did that asshole get reborn too?

When wolfsbane burned through my veins, I heard my alpha say: "Save Yvonne first."

He said I was strong enough. I could wait.

So he gave the only antidote to the omega and left me dying.

Three months ago, Mason rescued her from rogues. "She reminds me of you when you were younger," he said.

I chose to believe him. To trust our fated bond, to dismiss the pack's whispers as paranoia. Even when he spent more and more time with her in his office. Even when he started treating her the way he used to treat me, gently organizing her papers, patiently correcting her words.

Now he almost killed me.

When I finally crawl out of bed, it's my turn to fight back.

I heard my fiancé Henry's laughter echoing down that hotel hallway.

"I only went after Maya to piss off Dennis."

Eight years. I chased Dennis for eight years.

When I finally gave up on him, when Henry spent years pursuing me, when he proposed with fireworks lighting up the entire beach—I thought I'd finally found someone who loved me.

Three weeks until the wedding.

I flew to his city with his favorite chocolate cake, ready to surprise him on his birthday.

Then I heard the truth.

"Those eight years she spent obsessing over Dennis made me sick."

"I'll just skip the wedding. Let her stand there in that white dress in front of everyone."

Fine. I'll let him think he's won.

Then on our wedding day, I'll be the one who disappears.

A month before my boyfriend Samuel and I were supposed to get married, he asked me to let another woman wear my wedding dress and move into my house.

It all started three months ago when his "old friend" Dahlia returned from overseas, supposedly with less than a year to live. A week ago, Samuel told me that Dahlia's dying wish was to become a bride before she passed away, and he was the chosen groom.

I kept saying no. But he brought it up every single day, insisting he had to help Dahlia because she had helped him when his company was in crisis three years ago, and he needed to fulfill her wish.

I was furious.

But in the end, I gave up the house and left him.

My fiancé and I got engaged, then he joined an academic project in another state that required him to stay for a year.

I agreed to wait for him to come back and get married, with plans to see each other once a month.

But for the entire year, he found excuses every month to avoid seeing me.

Even when my mother was critically ill, I called him crying, but the phone always went to cold voicemail.

That day I drove three hours to find him and waited outside his apartment for a long time.

He still never replied.

So I stopped waiting for him and married a man who treated me well.

Who knew that when he found out I got married, he regretted it.

I was at my favorite artist's concert, phone up, recording the Kiss Cam segment. My boyfriend Mason said he was three hours away having dinner at his parents' house and couldn't make it, even sent me a selfie as proof.

Then the Kiss Cam found him.

On the giant screen, Mason wore the exact same gray vintage rock tee and black ripped jeans from his "family dinner photo," his arm around a blonde girl with her head on his shoulder.

The arena erupted: "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"

He looked like he'd seen a ghost, frantically trying to block the camera.

My phone's location alert read: "Mason is nearby (0.1 miles)."

Three years of us, exposed as a massive lie in front of thousands of cheering strangers.

I married my boss. In secret.

Six years ago, in a courthouse, with zero witnesses and zero fanfare, because apparently that's just how you do things when your husband is the Ice King of Ashford Group and terrified of anyone finding out he has feelings.

Six years and one kid later — a five-year-old who inherited every ounce of his father's charm, meaning none — and here's where we're at: the day my sexual harassment case finally went to trial, my husband and my son got on a plane.

To Switzerland.

To go skiing with Blair. Cassian's ex. The one he dated for seven years before me.

She needed "cheering up," apparently.

They didn't even bother coming back until a week after the trial wrapped. Cassian walked in rubbing his temples like he was the one who'd had a rough week, and gave me this:

"She wasn't doing great."

Atlas — my son, five going on forty — trailed in right behind him, already doing his tiny impression of his father's Congratulations, You've Been Dismissed voice.

"Next time we'll come. Promise."

"We got you a present, though. So you can stop being mad now, okay?"

Okay.

I said okay. And I meant it, I genuinely didn't have it in me to fight about it. No tears, no yelling, none of the usual meltdown. I just took the little box of chocolate and let it go.

Which, weirdly, seemed to freak them out more than the meltdown ever did.

I died the night I refused to postpone the engagement party.

The morning after my death, my parents were still having breakfast with my sister Blair, excitedly planning her award ceremony.

Before I died, the only person who answered my desperate call was my mother. I was being chased by kidnappers at the time, and I begged her to save me, telling her I was dying. But she said, "Stop being so dramatic! You're just trying to get our attention. If you want to die so badly, then go ahead and die."

That was my last call for help before the line went dead, and then I was struck by a car.

I lay on that dark road, bleeding profusely. They thought I was just sulking, hiding away to get attention. They thought if they ignored me, I would come back and apologize to them.

They didn't know I was already dead.

My ribs are the hottest thing in town—there’s always a line out the door—but they’ve got no idea the secret that makes them so damn good is…

I heard that recording and couldn't believe it. My husband had been having an affair for a whole year, and my six-year-old Jerry had been covering for him this whole time.

Later, at Jerry's birthday party, I overheard his friends: "That's Jerry's nanny. His real mom works overseas."

My son told everyone I was just the nanny.

That day, standing in the hotel hallway, Jerry looked at me and said: "Can you promise to never come find me again? So Michelle can officially be my mom?"

My blood ran cold.

I was stitching up a shrapnel wound in South Sudan when a lawyer called to tell me my grandfather William Caldwell had died, leaving me 120 billion dollars - I didn't even know he existed. Now I'm back in New York to claim my inheritance and cancel an engagement to businessman Oliver Jennings that my grandfather had arranged. His secretary Theodore brought me straight from the airport to try on jewelry for tonight's dinner party, where he plans to reveal my identity and announce my inheritance.

Just as I was trying on the necklace, a woman arrogantly yanked it from my neck and mocked me as a nobody. I don't like to abuse my power, but she's an exception.

When my CEO husband threatens divorce for the 99th time, this time trying to force me to hand over a million-dollar project to his assistant Chloe, I finally stop fighting.
I give him the project without a word.
He's thrilled. Thinks I've finally accepted my place. To reward me, he announces we'll throw a grand celebration for our fifth wedding anniversary.
Chloe finds out and falls apart. Locks herself in the supply closet. Can't bear the thought of watching us celebrate five years of marriage.
Arthur panics. Suddenly the anniversary party becomes a "client dinner" he can't reschedule. He'll take Chloe instead—she's been handling that account, after all.
"You understand how business works," he tells me. "We can celebrate privately later."
I see the photo she posts: Chloe in the restaurant he booked for us, wearing the dress he picked out, his hand covering hers across the table.
I tell him I understand.
He's satisfied. Promises we'll do something even better next month.
He doesn't know I've resigned. Doesn't know he signed the divorce papers three days ago when I slipped them into his contract stack.
We don't have a next month.

My husband, Julian, tells me he's flying to Italy for a month, business trip.
I check the calendar and freeze. His birthday falls right in the middle of that month. Alone, in a country where he knows no one outside of work.
I tell Margaux, my mother-in-law. She doesn't hesitate.
"Then we go," she says. "We surprise him."
My brother Dante is the only family I have left. For years I've told the Whitfields he just runs some business in Italy. They don't know the rest, and they never will if I can help it.
The second we land, I call him, give him the hotel name.
"Got it," he says, distracted. "I've got things to handle first. I'll come see you after."
Margaux and I check out the hotel restaurant before Julian even knows we've landed. Dinner, and a look at how the family's investment is running.
Food's good. Service is fine. Then the bill comes.
I glance down at the bill.
Dinner for two: 180,000.
Market-price seafood surcharge: 45,000.
Imported wine corking fee: 20,000.
Private dining ambiance fee: 60,000.
A dozen more line items after that, none of them making any sense.
Numbers that don't make sense. Charges I don't recognize. Margaux and I trade a look.
"Get us the manager," I say. "Now."
A woman walks over, chin already tilted up.
"I am the manager," she says. "If you can't pay, what's the point of complaining?"
I almost laugh. What kind of place is my own family running here?
"I'll take this up with the owner myself," I say.
She smiles, slow and pleased. "My husband happens to own this restaurant."
My stomach drops.
This restaurant belongs to the Whitfields. Belongs to Julian.
Since when did my husband become someone else's?

SYNOPSIS
when betrayal shatters her world, the fallen princess rises from exile with vengeance in her veins and fire in her soul. In the shadows of her exile, Kaelith discovers a secret long hidden: she is a Luna, a being bound to the power of the Blood Moon, destined to wield its fury. The kingdom that cast her out will soon kneel or crumble. Yet as the Blood Moon returns, Kaeliths curse awakens with it and the line between justice and destruction blurs. Will she save her kingdom or become the monster it always feared?

“Why would I mate with a useless Omega like you? you have caused misfortune upon misfortunes on your pack and several other packs due to what you did and now you want to mate with me?
I would never mate you, the moon goddess is trying to punish me but I wouldn’t take you for anything.
You would always remain without a mate. You have been condemned and there’s nothing I can do about being your fated mate.” He said, and my world was left broken all my life.
I had thought about the day when I would meet my fated mate and how happy I would be with him after but now that he has rejected me what would I do?


Blair, a weak omega of a small pack the Crescent Moon pack is chosen as the one to be sacrificed to the moon goddess in a ceremony that the werewolves believe in.
Though heartbroken, Blair accepts her ill fate, but on the day of the ceremony her father disrupts the ceremony, refusing to let Blair be sacrificed in a ceremony he doesn’t believe in.
What he fails to understand is that there are consequences for his actions!!
When chaos and disaster struck each pack, Blair became the scapegoat, blamed by all for the deaths across each pack; everyone believes she has been cursed by the moon goddess for failing to complete the ceremony.
When Blair loses her father too, she blames herself more and believes she is truly cursed.
With various rival packs planning to take over her pack, Blair must find a way to save herself and her pack.
Her father's Beta arranges for her hand in marriage to Alpha Zoran, an aging Alpha willing to wed Emery and save her pack.
After weighing her options, Blair agrees to the arranged marriage but on the day of her wedding tragedy strikes again.
Alpha Luther, the cruelest Alpha that everyone feared disrupts her wedding and kills her betrothed.
Though their wolves recognize their fated mate bond, Alpha Luther cruelly rejects Blair, he blames her for the death across all packs, takes over her pack and drags her to his pack as his slave.
However, as the strange occurrence persists, Blair suspects there may be more to the calamity that had befallen them than the eye sees.
Will Alpha Luther and Blair put aside their differences to confront this new threat together or allow the darkness to consume them both?

I woke up and my husband hated me. My daughter was afraid of me. Everyone said I caused the accident.

But I remember the truth. Marcus was driving, not me. When that truck hit us, I threw my body over Iris to protect her. Yet when I woke from three months in a coma, everyone believed I was the criminal.

To save Marcus's life, I donated my liver. Now my body runs on an artificial system while he lives with my organ inside him and slaps me across the face.

My four-year-old daughter calls me "the bad woman."

My husband says I don't deserve the Sterling name.

And my "sister" Jade, she orchestrated everything, yet became the one they love.

In the end, I died in the desert.

When they find out, will they grieve or celebrate?

I kept a list. Ninety-eight times my husband chose another woman over me.

Missed birthdays, ruined anniversaries, broken promises—all for his "patient" Sophia, who seemed to have a medical emergency every time we had plans.

"It's just my job, Emma," he would say. "You understand."

Ryan thought he could have his cake and eat it too. He was wrong.

After an incident, I was determined to leave him, and before I left, I gave him an unforgettable "gift."

I'm alive.

When I jolted awake to see March 15th on my phone, I could barely believe it—I should have been dead since August 18th! Marcus, my Alpha husband, had murdered pregnant me with his own hands for his "childhood sweetheart" Freya's fake death.

Reborn to the night it all began, I heard the familiar pleading downstairs: "Please, Alpha Marcus! My daughter is dying!"

This time, when Marcus fed me that lie about "special wolf poison" to trick me into breaking our mate bond, I smiled and agreed.

My best friend Cecilia framed me, causing me to miscarry at six months pregnant. My husband Zach destroyed the evidence I found to protect her reputation. To keep me silent, he even threatened me with my mother's life.

"I need you to erase Elena Cavalli completely," I said, sliding an untraceable check across the table.

People say my husband Vito Cavalli broke every mafia code for me. The heir who knelt before all five family bosses and named an ordinary woman his godmother.

For three years, he convinced the world we were in love. He told the press I was why he went legitimate, why he gave up the gun.

But devotion has an expiration date.

While I basked in his affection, believing I was cherished, he was climbing into another woman's bed.

So I walked away.

When I disappeared, he shattered.

He tore through every corner of the globe hunting for me. But the woman he'd once traded his empire for didn't love him enough to turn around.

Everyone knows how much Gideon Moretti loves his wife Isabella.

We built this empire together—from street enforcers to rulers of all five boroughs of New York. He promised me the world.

I believed him.

For five years, I took bullets for him. Bled for him. Sacrificed everything so he could become the king of this city.

Then, just days before our fifth anniversary—on the same day I found out I was pregnant—I saw a video.

Gideon, in a bridal boutique, his hand on another woman's waist. Helping her choose a wedding dress.

Daisy. His first love.

Turns out, she's been back for two months. Every "business trip" he took? He was with her.

I made my decision that night. I would leave. Take our baby and disappear.

My child would not grow up in a house built on lies.

I was born a princess of the Dragon Realm, destined for greatness.
In my past life, I married an amethyst dragon, Damien. Our union should have produced heirs worthy of legend. Instead, I bore him a Wingless One, the ultimate shame.
He didn't hesitate. One swing of his blade, and our child's cries were silenced forever. Then he dragged me, still bleeding from childbirth, to the Dragon's Maw. Threw me into the molten lava, my screams echoing as the flames consumed my flesh.
Meanwhile, my half-sister Isadora, a mere Bronze Dragon, married another Bronze, equally unremarkable. Yet somehow, she gave birth to an Amethyst Dragon.
She became our new Dragon Queen. I became carrion.
But death wasn't my end.
I opened my eyes on the day of the Choosing Ceremony. Damien stood before me. Then, with cold calculation in his eyes, he turned away. He chose Isadora.
He remembers too.
A smile curved my lips. Let him play his game. Because I know the truth now, a truth that will shatter everything.
How could a dragon who needs dark magic to maintain his wing color possibly father a dragon of true noble bloodline?

Seven years ago, Alpha Matthew's fiancée Elvira ran off with another alpha. I was just his assistant back then, harboring a secret crush but never imagining we could be together.

That night I picked him up from the bar. He was drunk and had been drugged. One night later I was pregnant, and Matthew became convinced I was the one who drugged him, that I'd schemed my way into becoming his luna. He hated me, but still gave me the title of secret mate. No mating ceremony, just a contract. My son and I lived in the guest wing of his estate for seven years.

Last night he drunkenly spun Liam around in circles. My son thought he was finally being accepted. But I heard the name Matthew was murmuring—Elvira. She was coming back, with her son.

I held my transfer request to the Eastern Region. This time, we're done waiting.

A vampire can only share a blood pact with one mate. My husband, Duke Vincent, and I have been in love and bound by our pact for ten years. Back then, he swore his loyalty to me before the vampire gods.

But today, as his cursed first love lies dying, he hands me a vial of the oblivion draught and forcibly breaks our bond.

"Elara, Camilla is dying. Just give me three days. Let me fulfill her dream of a blood wedding."

"I don't want you to hurt. This draught just causes temporary amnesia. Once the wedding ends in three days, I'll go to the capital and get the antidote. You'll remember me, and we'll bind a much grander blood pact."

I stare at his uncompromising expression. Then I take the vial and swallow the potion without a second thought.

What Vincent doesn't know is that I brewed this oblivion draught myself.

There is absolutely no antidote.

In three days, I'll not only forget him completely, but I'll also head to the human capital to start my new job at the Royal Potion Workshop.

Three years ago, I saved the life of Alessandro Gambino, New York's most powerful mafia boss.

He fell in love with me, a bartender.

His family was dead set against us, but his love won out. We got married.

After we married, he disappeared every month for "punishment day," claiming his family beat him with sixty-six lashes for breaking their rules by staying with me. Watching him suffer tore me apart.

Actully, I'm Sloane Lucchese, sole heir to the largest arms empire on the East Coast, hiding from a family war. I decided to reclaim my family name as soon as possible, so his family would finally accept me.

Finally, on our fifth wedding anniversary, I found out I was pregnant, and my father called to say they'd announce my return in two weeks.

I was going to tell Alessandro everything that night, both pieces of good news.

But that same day, I stumbled onto a secret—one that would destroy me completely.

I've caught my fiancé Henry cheating ninety-nine times. And every single time, I forgave him.

That's because I have this rare condition—short-term memory loss. Every morning, I wake up with no memory of what happened the day before.

But then, out of nowhere, a car accident actually cured me.

I was so excited. I rushed over to tell Henry the good news, but stopped cold when I heard him outside the door, joking around with his friends:

"Didn't Judy get sick because she walked in on you and Kenna having sex?"

In my past life, the night before the National Cheerleading Championship finals, my "best friend" Lily, the scholarship student I'd been sponsoring, handed me a brownie she claimed she'd "baked herself."

She knew I had a deadly peanut allergy. Yet she'd loaded it with concentrated peanut butter.

When I collapsed on the locker room floor, hives erupting across my skin, my throat swelling shut until I couldn't make a sound, Lily just covered her mouth and nestled into my boyfriend Liam's arms, whimpering: "I'm so sorry, Chloe. I'm such an idiot. I mixed up the peanut butter with chocolate... you won't blame me, right?"

Of course I blamed you.

The quarterback I'd loved for three years didn't call 911. Instead, he frowned down at me convulsing on the ground.

"Chloe, stop faking, okay?" Liam's voice dripped with annoyance. "Lily already apologized. Why do you have to put on this dramatic show to scare her? You're always so controlling."

Controlling?

My airway was closing. My lungs were on fire. I was dying, and I couldn't force out a single word to tell him.

They didn’t call an ambulance until I stopped moving, but by the time it got there, it was too late. I was already dead.

When the police questioned him, Liam gave false testimony to protect Lily. He claimed I was afraid of losing the competition, so I tried to use an allergic reaction to avoid competing, but accidentally ingested too much of the allergen and died.

The man who said he loved me let me die with the reputation of a coward.

When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on that day.

"Tell me to stop, and I will," he murmured against my ear. "But if you don't..."
He didn't finish. He didn't need to.
I didn't tell him to stop.
Instead, my fingers curled into his shirt, clutching the fabric as though it was my only anchor. Something in him snapped—something he had been holding back for too long. His mouth found mine in a kiss that wasn't tender, but hungry, desperate.
I gasped into him, his hand sliding up to cup my jaw, holding me as if afraid I might vanish.
"You drive me insane," he breathed against my mouth, his lips trailing to my throat. "I can't lose you, Ella. Not you."
My head fell back, a soft sound escaping me as his fingers memorized my waist. My anger melted beneath his desperation.
"James..." I whispered, more plea than protest.
His hand caught mine, fingers threading together tightly. "I'll bring him back. I swear it. Just... don't turn away from me. Please."
The word please—low, ragged, almost broken—undid me more than anything else could have.


Ella never imagined she would marry the man she had secretly loved for years in such a way.
When her brother Theo faced twenty-five years in prison for massive embezzlement, the ruthless business tycoon James Lancaster offered her a deal: marry him in exchange for her brother's freedom.
This wasn't a fairy tale proposal, but a carefully orchestrated revenge. Because in James's heart, Ella was the culprit who had killed his sister Cecilia. He wanted her to pay the price—to atone with a lifetime of suffering.

"You can do more than saying sorry." He raised my chin up, his eyes boring into mine.

"H..how?"

His lips lifted up into a cocky smirk. "By showing action."

My face squeezed into a small frown, then a scoff followed suit. "You mean by getting down on my knees?"

"Sounds better coming from you." He brushed his thumb on my lips, startling me a bit. My heart picked up its pace.

His eyes flickered between my eyes and lips, "sure I want you to get on your knees, Kinky, and use your pretty mouth...but not to apologize." He pushed his thumb forward, parting my lips open.

_

‎Deprived of parental love. ‎Subjected to being her sister's shadow. What Uriel didn't expect was to be a pawn in Ryder Connell's sick game.
‎
‎What started as a bully relationship because 'the golden boy' couldn't take rejection, pivoted into something dangerously emotional only to crash because it wasn't mutual.
‎
A bet. That was all it was to Ryder.
‎
‎Uriel is devastated but that's not all. Her sister was going to stop at nothing until Uriel burned to the ground. Uriel has reached rock bottom and is ready to fight back. But what if she was bound to fail from the beginning?

“Not so fast, carrot head. The party just started,” Alex said. “You're like a little pest… why are we always drawn to you?” Austin asked.
“I sure am,” Alex smiled. Now I was sandwiched between them, my heart racing so fast I felt like I was going to pass out.
“Leave me alone!” I screamed and tried to run. But I was trapped. Before I realized it, Austin crashed his lips into mine. My mind almost exploded. I had never kissed anyone before.
I felt Alex, who was behind me, shove his hand beneath my chest, cupping my breast with his large hand while he moaned. I fought with all my might.
What was going on? Why were they doing this? Didn't they hate me?


Stormi, once a nobody-wants omega, found herself at the center of a tale spun by the moon goddess.Four notorious wolves known for their bad-boy antics and her bullies, were destined to be her mates.

Be my imperfection is a reverse harem in the year 2050 after a failed experiment lead to the destruction of the world where humans were prey to mutants/ vampires. World leaders were killed and humans were seperated into categories and ranks and sent to compounds to get killed or used.
The world is dominated by five unique vampires who fall in love with a human girl who is not pretty since she was scarred for life by her own sister and her billionaire family reproaches her.
The story will go from sad and painful to hurt and challenging. Secrets will be uncover and each character will have a role to play and the plan that they had will be ruined due to that.

Ivy Carter's life is about to take a drastic turn. A college student with a normal routine, she is unaware of the shadows that lurk in the city. But when she catches the eye of Alpha Damian Blackthorn, the most powerful and feared man in town, her world is turned upside down. As his fated mate, Ivy's drawn into a world of danger and desire, where two ruthless predators, Damian and vampire CEO Lucien D'Amato will stop at nothing to claim her.
With her life hanging in the balance, Ivy must navigate this treacherous new world and decide her own fate.
Will she find love, or become a pawn in their deadly game?"

He chuckled, low and dark, as my hands betrayed me, reaching out to trace the lines of his tattoos. The ink was warm beneath my fingertips, the patterns intricate-some sharp and angular, others flowing like water. I followed the path down his chest, my nails scraping lightly over his abs, feeling the way they tensed under my touch. My fingers fumbled with the button of his jeans, my movements clumsy with need. The zipper gave way with a sharp snik, and I pushed the
denim and the briefs down his hips, my breath hitching as his cock sprang free.

Thick. Heavy. Veined. The head was already slick with pre-cum, glistening under the dim light. I swallowed hard, my thighs pressing together involuntarily,trying to quell the ache between my legs, but it only intensified, a throbbing reminder of my body's betrayal.

It was larger than she'd imagined, There's no way that's fitting inside me. The thought alone sent a fresh wave of heat pooling between my legs, my pussy throbbing in anticipation.

He noticed. Of course he did. His gaze darkened, his lips curling as he kicked his jeans the rest of the way off.

"Like what you see, little hybrid?”


Lyra Soren is a rare vampire-wolf hybrid, hunted and alone… until the deadly Alpha King, Darius Kade, claims her as his mate. Their bond is fierce, forbidden, and irresistible, pulling them into a web of desire, betrayal, and blood-soaked secrets. Survival will mean facing enemies, uncovering dark family truths, and surrendering to the man she hates—and wants.