1932 Book(s) Related to melinda dillon a christmas story christmas

Three years of a sexless marriage. I hid my brilliance just to be his obedient wife, yet he discarded me for his manipulative first love. When I slammed the divorce papers on his desk, I thought I was finally free.

But that night, he pinned me against the wall, his eyes dark with suppressed desire.

"You bought these toys to humiliate me? Are you that desperate?"

I laughed softly, tracing his shirt button. "Since you can't satisfy me, darling, I need to find my own fun. Or... a new man."

I pushed him away, ready to vanish. But as my secret identities—top racer and legendary doctor—are exposed one by one, my ex-husband's obsession grows.

Will he realize the goddess he worships is the very wife he scorned?

I fled the hotel room in a panic, leaving only a cheap necklace behind. I had just spent the night with William Ford, the city’s most ruthless billionaire CEO.

My sister, the "real" daughter of my wealthy adoptive family, found the necklace. She stole my secret, claimed she was the woman from that night, and proudly paraded around as his new girlfriend.

She had already taken my parents and my fiancé. Now, she wanted to crush me at work, ordering me to step aside while she played the future Mrs. Ford.

"Don't even think about stealing him, Wendy. You're just a fake," she sneered.

She thought she had won. But she didn't know that William had already seen the unique birthmark on my shoulder.

Later that night, as my sister planned her grand engagement, the terrifying CEO pinned me against his office door. His cold eyes melted into fiery obsession as his husky voice brushed my ear.

"How much longer are you going to let her play my girlfriend, my little runaway?"

"Lily, listen to me. Every IVF cycle you went through was a lie. James was injecting you with experimental fertility drugs—unapproved, illegal. You were a test subject. The baby… it's not even genetically his."
Her world shatters with those words.
After twenty failed IVF treatments and four years of heartbreak, Lily Collins finally has everything she's ever wanted: she's pregnant with the miracle baby she and her husband James fought so hard for. But the man she married is becoming someone she doesn't recognize—controlling, secretive, and increasingly dangerous.
When James strikes her for the first time, Lily tells herself it's the stress. When he isolates her from friends and monitors her every move, she convinces herself it's concern for the baby. But when she discovers he's been lying about their fertility treatments, she realizes the father of her unborn child might be hiding something far more sinister than she ever imagined.
Meanwhile, across the city...Alpha werewolf Ace Winters has spent years searching for his destined mate. When the bond finally calls to him, leading him to a pregnant woman living in fear, his protective instincts roar to life. But his mate is human, fragile, and already running from one dangerous man. One wrong move could send her fleeing forever. One right move could save her life.
Two men. One woman. A baby caught in between.
As Lily fights to uncover the truth about her husband's deceptions, she has no idea that her salvation might come from the mysterious stranger watching over her or that accepting his protection will thrust her into a world where fairy tales are real. Love can be written in the stars.
But first, she has to survive long enough to discover that monsters don't always look like monsters...And heroes don't always look entirely human.

I was his adopted daughter, yet I crawled into his bed.

"A woman delivering herself to my door... guess what a normal man would do?"

The legendary cold-faced Marcus pinned her naked body down, leaving traces of their intimacy all over the villa.

After the pleasure, the man humiliated her in every way possible. "Get out. Get rid of the baby."

Later, Emma vanished completely.

Marcus didn't believe that the woman who loved him to the bone would actually leave him.

Until he saw his pregnant adopted daughter with his own eyes, holding another man's arm, appearing right in front of him...

"I didn’t drug your drink," I said, my voice shaking in the dark.

"Liar," he spat. "You're just like your precious Stewart family. Deception runs in your blood, doesn't it?"

"Believe what you want," I fired back, lifting my chin. "I'm done with all of this. Done with you. I’m not going back anymore!"

His eyes narrowed dangerously in an instant , and he stepped closer, backing me against the wall until I could feel his breath on my face.

"Go ahead and leave," he growled. "But I'll always find you Elena. You're mine."


Elena, married to Reginald through her parents' ruthless machinations, naively believed she could wait for true love, only to be met with his betrayal with his first love Vivian.

Reginald, the ruthless heir to the Vanderbilt empire, thought he could control everything. Until Elena decided on divorce and disappeared, his control twisted into something he couldn't believe.

Five years later, Elena returns with twins in tow, and a bombshell revelation stuns everyone - she is the mysterious CEO of the Phoenix Group, rising from nothing to Vanderbilt's top rival in just two years.

With Reginald claiming her as his and the twins revealed as his, Elena must decide: give in to him or keep fighting for her freedom.

Experience love when it’s least expected with four full-length, heartwarming sweet romances in the One Night to Forever box set by USA TODAY Bestselling Author Melissa McClone.Fiancé for the Night: When a fake engagement spirals out of control, Cassandra fears losing her heart. Will she end the fake engagement, or could Troy be her perfect husband for life?The Wedding Lullaby: After an impromptu wedding that was just for fun, Laurel discovers she’s pregnant. Will she get the marriage and family she dreams of having with Brett?A Little Bit Engaged: A PR nightmare drags Cara into a fake engagement with A-list actor—and former crush—Brody. What will it take for her to survive the ruse with her heart intact?Love on the Slopes: The one person who can help her is the last person she’d ever trust…again. Can Ryland and Brynn overcome their painful pasts and make their dreams come true—together?With fake engagements, a surprise pregnancy, friendship to love, and hate to love storylines, these four novels will take you from San Francisco to Portland to Sun Valley. Treat yourself and find out how one night can lead to forever…

Visit the quaint coastal town of Indigo Bay where love is always in the air…From vacation romances to second chances, you’ll find sigh-worthy, small-town romance in this complete collection of Melissa McClone’s stories from the multi-author Indigo Bay Sweet Romance series. These four stories form their own miniseries, so find a cozy reading spot, and escape to Indigo Bay, South Carolina where happily ever afters are guaranteed. Also included is Jenny, the prequel to the rest of the books. This set includes:Jenny (prequel): Jenny Hanford never expects anything to happen the night she whimsically throws her requirements for true love into the ocean. Thirteen months later, however, she hears back from the man who found her bottle. Could he be her dream hero come to life?Sweet Holiday Wishes: Frequent deployments and training exercises kept Army Ranger Staff Sergeant Mitch Hamilton away from home, and he had no idea how taken for granted Lizzy felt until she asked him for a divorce. He'll do whatever It takes to save his marriage. But will it be enough?Sweet Beginnings: Josh Cooper's journey to sobriety inspires Hope Ryan to take charge of her own life. But as their relationship straddles the line between friendship and romance, can Hope and Josh find the strength to overcome their pasts and build a life together?Sweet Do-Over: When architect Marley Patterson turns down Von Ryan's marriage proposal, she realizes too late she made a huge mistake. She wants a second chance, but after breaking his heart once, will he give her a do-over?Sweet Yuletide: Two strangers end up how housesitting together over the holidays. A sprig of mistletoe makes Sheridan DeMarco and Mikey Patterson forget their plans to stay away from each other. But will their happily ever after get tossed out along with the discarded wrapping paper and tinsel?If you enjoy romance and beach reads, you’ll love these stories set in the quaint, coastal town of Indigo Bay!

"You're beautiful when you're dangerous," he murmured, ice-blue eyes burning into mine as shadows writhed around my feet.
"I don't need another Alpha who thinks he owns me," I snapped, yet stepped closer, drawn by his raw power.
His hand caught my wrist, thumb tracing the silver chain marks Magnus had left. "Who dared mark what's mine?"
Heat pooled low in my stomach at his possessive words. "I'm not yours."
"Your racing pulse says otherwise." His thumb found my heartbeat, and I couldn't suppress the soft gasp that escaped.
"Let go," I breathed, even as I leaned into his touch.
"Make me." His other hand slid to my waist, pulling me against his hard chest. "Tell me you don't want this."
The lie died on my lips as his scent made my head spin with need.


Nephele survived two years as Magnus's captive Luna, believing she was wolfless trash. While enduring his brutality, her blood was secretly harvested by Ophelia—the woman who raised her. When she finally escapes, she learns the truth: she's the last Shadow Wolf princess, stolen as a baby. Now both want their valuable weapon back.
Half-dead in the forest, she's saved by Kaedan—the boy who once gave her an apple, now the ruthless Frost King. She won't trade one prison for another, but his touch sets her on fire and his protection feels dangerously like home.
Can a broken girl trust the king who could destroy her completely?

Giana Ortega has always lived by her own rules—running her family’s farm, tending her beloved horse Majestic, and keeping her heart guarded from the world. But when a long-forgotten letter reveals her father has died and she has three half-siblings, everything she knows about her life is thrown into question.

Then there’s Pablo Ortiz—a mysterious, captivating man with a little girl in tow. Drawn to his warmth and quiet strength, Giana finds herself falling in ways she never expected. But Pablo carries secrets that could shatter their fragile happiness, including a past that refuses to stay buried.

As love ignites and loyalties are tested, Giana must navigate family drama, hidden truths, and her own heart. Can she embrace the life—and love—she’s always dreamed of, or will the secrets surrounding Pablo and her own family keep them apart?

After the night of her mistaken encounter with the ruthless billionaire Brandon, Galena faces a series of so many near-death experiences; from her ex-boyfriend, who tries to blackmail her with an old, daunting secret, from Freya,, Brandon’s fiancée who would do anything to get rid of her, and Roland Bones, who wants to spit the blood of vengeance on her face, because of her father.

She hates Brandon for taking advantage of her and then calling it “help”, but Brandon on the other hand thinks she’s only a slut, because his assistant had sent her to him on the night he was poisoned with an aphrodisiac as a slut. They both have different views about each other, but this is solely caused by Lucavo, Brandon’s assistant, who had set them up as the only option he had left to save Brandon on that night.

Despite her hatred and arrogance towards Brandon, he always saw it as his responsibility to protect her at all costs. He felt entitled to her for saving his life, and his over-bearing guardedness over her felt suffocating, that she had to escape to an Island in Florida, in the hopes that she would be finally away from him, Freya, and everyone else.

She is unaware of what awaits her in Florida, as Freya follows her there to execute her well laid out plans against her. When she thinks she’s over one enemy, Ethan, her ex-boyfriend, and her best friend that he cheated with lodge at the same hotel that she works at.

Afterwards, she finds out that she is pregnant. Will she reveal to Brandon that the baby was his? And will they ever find out the circumstances surrounding their mistaken encounter to be a big set up from the unsuspecting Lucavo?

Duty requires her to marry—but she’s having second thoughts.Princess Julianna dreams of marrying for love, but no one cares what she wants. The future of her kingdom—and countrywomen—depends on her arranged marriage. Too bad, her intended’s brother is the one who captures her interest with his good looks and sailing skills. She’ll just have to push aside her attraction and do what’s right for everyone else, if not herself…Prince Alejandro wants nothing more than to relinquish his title. He can’t wait for his older brother to marry and have a child. That is, until he meets the beautiful princess destined to be his country’s future queen. Julianna holds the key to his freedom, yet he recognizes a kindred spirit—someone trapped by the demands of being royalty—and finds her utterly irresistible.Knowing the royal wedding must occur for the sake of their countries doesn’t stop them from wanting to be together. A happy ending could be theirs if they are willing to accept the consequences of following their hearts. Will duty or love reign supreme?

He ruined her reputation—now she wants nothing to do with him.Brynn Windham loves being a member of the US Ski Team. But after learning a disturbing family secret, she loses her focus and puts her spot on the team in jeopardy. Her coach assigns a skier to help Brynn regain her competitive edge. Unfortunately, the one person who can help her is the last person she trusts.Ryland Guyer might be the heir to his family’s sportswear company, but skiing is his priority. As he recovers from an injury, his coach asks him to help another skier salvage her season. The only problem? He and Brynn have history. They haven’t spoken in five years, and he doubts she’ll want to talk to him now.Not wanting to give up on her dream, Brynn struggles with skiing and Ryland. He wants to make amends for the hurt he caused her and start over, but being around him stirs up old feelings and new, deeper ones emerge. Being on her own is better…safer. But he isn't ready to give up on her. Or them.With a mountain of struggles to face, can Brynn and Ryland learn to forgive so they can reach the top—together?* Parts of this 54,000 word novel were previously published in a Kindle World novella called Race of Love.*One Night to Forever series:Book 1: Fiancé for the NightBook 2: The Wedding LullabyBook 3: A Little Bit EngagedBook 4: Love on the SlopesBook 4: Love on the Slopes

She’s been a proper princess—but she wants to rebel.After the death of her fiancé, Princess Madeleine knows a loveless, arranged marriage awaits her. She’s resigned to her fate until she meets her intended husband. Crown Prince Enrique is gorgeous, but he comes on way too strong, says the wrong things, and fumbles with apologies. He’s more court jester than Prince Charming. How can she marry him?Enrique might be self-centered and lack social skills, but he’s trying to do better—for himself, his country, and his future wife. Despite their royal union being a political necessity, he wants his marriage with the captivating Madeleine to be a love match. He’s willing to do whatever it takes to woo her. How hard can it be to win his princess bride’s heart?Nearly impossible, he discovers, because Madeleine seems unwilling—or unable—to give him her heart. On their wedding day, instead of exchanging vows, will the royal couple say goodbye?

A little hope changes everything...Artist Hope Ryan dreams of seeing her artwork displayed in top galleries again, but a devastating betrayal left her unable to paint as she once did. Instead, she settles for creating unique items for tourists and wedding couples in her hometown. Although Hope longs for more, she refuses to venture outside her comfort zone, fearing the heartbreak and disappointment of failing again.Highly paid sportscaster Josh Cooper never overcame his bitterness after an injury on the football field sidelined him for good. Finding his solace in alcohol and women only made matters worse until he finally hit rock bottom. Now, he’s looking for redemption. When he’s asked to fly a wedding gown across the country for one of the victims of his wrongs, he doesn't hesitate.Arriving in Indigo Bay, Josh finds himself captivated by the artist creating the wedding favors. He knows exactly what he wants—Hope—even though she deserves someone better. Can Josh prove he’s more than a broken has-been? Or will he not only lose Hope but also lose himself?

One couple, a pending divorce, and a baby who needs a family...No matter how hard Kate Malone strives to be perfect, everyone she's ever loved leaves. She foolishly believed "I do" meant "forever." Now, her wedding ring is in a jewelry box, and she's alone once again. But when Kate and her soon-to-be ex-husband become the sole guardians of an infant, divorce is not an option with a new baby counting on them.Jared Reed loves Kate more than anything—even if he did push her too far. Now he's determined to keep his promises to his best friends and especially to his wife. A marriage of convenience sounds rather inconvenient, but Jared will do whatever it takes to get Kate back and provide their new little girl with parents who not only love her, but love each other, too.Parenting brings them closer, but their undeniable attraction makes Kate want to keep her distance. Jared, however, won't give up on having the family and marriage he wants. Can Jared prove to his wife that he's the husband she's always wanted before it's too late?

A marriage proposal gone wrong—a second chance to get it right.When architect Marley Patterson goes out with Von Ryan, she never expects her practical, cautious life to be turned upside down by the handsome contractor. Von is the definition of fun, until his proposal sends her into a panic. Marriage is too serious a commitment to make after dating for only six months. Even though she cares for Von, they are too different, so she breaks up with him.Being rejected hurts, but Von blames himself for not reading the signs or Marley better. He finds solace in work; however, his construction company’s success isn’t enough. He wants to share his life with a woman who’ll love him as much as he loves her. She’s out there. All he has to do is find her and, this time, be patient for the relationship to develop on its own.After Marley is assigned to Von’s new project in Indigo Bay, he treats her the same as everyone else—professionally and with respect—though neither can deny a strong mutual attraction still exists. Soon Marley realizes she may have been the problem with their relationship, not just Von’s proposal. She wants a second chance, but after breaking his heart once, will he give her a do-over?

My name is Gemma and I'm the white wolf.

My life has been really, really shitty.

At 3, the pack I stayed at was attacked, I lost my mother, was kidnapped and abused by some people. They asked me to reveal the identity of the white wolf. I was only 3 for goddess' sake! How was I supposed to know? After I was deemed useless to their search, I became their maid. I lost 12 years, 12 freaking years, to these people but I escaped.

I had planned it for a long time and managed to get from America to England. I met my mate there. Alpha Conner Hughes. I love him. He helped me figure myself out and taught me about gifted wolves.

I'm a gifted wolf, scratch that, His Gifted Luna.

Everything was quiet for four years, four beautiful years, until fate just decided to just fuck with me and send me back to my old pack to deal with hunters.

Secrets will be revealed, hardships will be overcome and hearts will be broken. I just hope i can get through it all with Conner by my side.

I clicked the anonymous link, and my world shattered. There was my perfect fiancé, in a live stream, entangled with the woman who was supposed to be my maid of honor—my best friend.
He was the hero who donated his bone marrow to save my life. Now, he was defiling our future marriage bed in the most vile betrayal. I thought this was their twisted idea of a game, until I dug deeper and uncovered the truth: our "fateful" connection three years ago was nothing but a calculated lie.
My savior, my soulmate, the father of my child... it was all a facade. Now, I've vanished into the night, carrying a secret they know nothing about—his child. Their little show was just the beginning.
My revenge? It's just getting started.

I died betrayed on my wedding altar.
The silver blade in my sister's hand felt colder than our shared childhood. My "fated mate" Kaelen held me down as she carved out my heart—a sacrifice for his ambition.
In my final breath, I saw him: Fenrir, the half-blood guard I'd scorned, breaking through a wall of spears to reach me. Silver arrows pierced his chest mid-leap, but his dying eyes held no blame—only a loyalty that followed me into darkness.
The Moon Goddess heard my dying vow.
Now I'm back, standing where it all began—the mate choosing ceremony. Kaelen expects me to declare him again. My sister waits to play her victim.
But this time, I walk past the golden Alpha and kneel before the broken slave.
"Rise," I whisper, lifting his chin. "The real Luna has come home."
And when they laugh at my choice, they don't see what I do: the ancient power stirring beneath his skin, the king waiting to be awakened.
Let them call him monster. Let them call me mad.
We'll show them what happens when a betrayed Luna and a fallen king unite.
The altar awaits its true sacrifice—and it won't be me this time.

I married Quentin Hale for strategic reasons. I chose him because he understood boundaries.
For three years, I never regretted that decision.
Then his new assistant started feeding him from her own spoon, taking my seat in his car, and appearing as his date at a charity auction.
The society reporters even began calling them a perfect match.
I gave my husband three chances to remember that I was his equal.
He wasted every one of them. Then he finally admitted that all he wanted was to teach me how a proper wife should behave.
Quentin thought the business alliance between our families would keep me by his side.
He forgot that I had been running Voss Group long before I became Mrs. Hale.
I had never needed a husband badly enough to let one teach me how to live.

I was the most envied mafia wife in Chicago, until his Tibetan Mastiff tore apart what remained of our child.
Everyone called it an accident. I knew it wasn’t.
While I was bleeding out on the operating table, my husband was in the VIP ward, personally attending to his “traumatized” adopted sister. The whole family coddled her delicate state. Only I saw the smirk she couldn’t hide behind every calculated “panic attack.”
Then the Feds gave me a choice: keep playing the perfect, miserable wife, or vanish into a classified program so secret, I’d be dead to everyone I ever knew.
I signed. I uploaded the audio proof of their affair. I watched my old life disappear.
You swore you’d protect the family above all else, darling?
How fitting. My new mission is to protect this country from all threats.
Starting with you.

In the Dragon Empire, bloodline determined everything. Only a female capable of hatching royal-grade golden dragons could wear the crown.
In my past life, I was nothing but a Red Drake—bottom of the food chain, not even blessed with wings. Yet after marrying into the royal family, I miraculously hatched a pureblooded Golden Hatchling.
But when my husband Valerius ascended to the Dragon Throne, his first act as king was to rip out my dragon crystal with his bare claws.
My own son Draken then ordered my body hacked to pieces and fed to the Abyssal Carrion Wolf-Lions in the depths below.
All of this because my half-sister had faked a bloodline awakening, transforming herself overnight into a so-called "Sacred Crystal Dragon."
My cruel husband had looked down at me with utter contempt: "Without my noble genes, how could something like you possibly birth such a gifted golden pureblood? Your filthy swamp bloodline has no right to the Queen's throne."
My son's disgust cut even deeper: "I don't want a flightless cripple for a mother. You make me sick. Only someone as noble and beautiful as Seraphina deserves to be my mother—she'd never force me to practice boring magic like you did."
When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back at the Empire's quinquennial Bonding Ceremony.
My husband wasted no time choosing my sister as his mate. My son, Draken, eagerly dove his soul into her womb, ready to be reborn.
But this time, what crawled out of that egg was a Blind Mud Runt.

Seven minutes before the beast-mark registration system closed, I received a video message.
The sender was me.
Only she looked fifteen years older.
"Talia, Kellan secretly changed your training academy application to Ironfang Camp. He and Briar have been together for a long time. He only did it because she didn't want you hanging around him anymore."
My future self looked straight into the camera, her eyes filled with regret.
"Later, no matter how hard you trained or how well you performed, you never got the chance to become an Alpha. You even made it all the way through advanced training, but you still couldn't get into the position you'd dreamed of."
She paused, her voice breaking slightly.
"But you could have made it. You were meant to stand at Dawnspire."
The video ended.
I sat frozen on the couch, gripping my phone so tightly my fingers hurt.
For a few seconds, I couldn't even breathe.
Then I jumped up and ran back to my bedroom.
My hands were shaking as I opened the beast-mark registration portal.
My first-choice academy had indeed been changed.
Ironfang Camp. A Gamma training camp.
I stared at the words, feeling a chill spread through my body.
Ironfang was where young Gammas were sent for frontline combat training. The conditions were brutal, the assignments dangerous, and casualties were common.
In Graythorn Settlement, everyone knew what it meant to end up there.
It was where you went when you had no better choice.
And someone had deliberately sent me there.
I closed my eyes, forcing myself to calm down.
Then I placed my palm against the registration stone and activated my wolf mark.
With one minute left, I changed my application.
First Choice: Dawnspire Academy.

As the undisputed queen of the CS department, my world used to consist of nothing but the absolute rationality of zeros and ones.
Until Corbin Hawke, hockey captain with his star-athlete entitlement, bulldozed past my firewall with his Academy Award-worthy act and a "love algorithm" he supposedly pulled all-nighters to write.
I naively believed it was the upgrade I'd been waiting for.
Until this moment.
The shower ran in the bathroom, his carefree humming drifting out, while my iPad lit up beside me. Thirsty texts from some cheerleader flashed across the screen, followed by him running his mouth in the team group chat:
"Easy, fellas. Dumping this frigid nerd at the championship party tomorrow and collecting that five-hundred-dollar bet. That script I copied off Stack Overflow for 200 bucks? She ate that shit up."
Staring at those vile messages, whatever naive warmth I'd stupidly let myself feel got deleted from my system in one clean swipe, leaving nothing but cold, pure logic.
Pissing off a top-tier hacker would be the most catastrophic mistake he'd ever executed.

Noah, usually inseparable from his father, had spent the entire week insisting that only I take him camping. His declared mission: mastering "real survival skills"—a not-so-subtle jab at his dad's preference for cushy glamping.
Liam played along, hamming it up as he swung our son goodbye. But beneath the teasing jealousy, something felt off. He packed the trunk too fast. Checked the gas without being asked. Almost assembly-line efficiency.
And that line about a last-minute client flying in from Chicago? Didn't sound like bad luck. Sounded like an excuse.
All week, he never pushed back. Just quietly, almost eagerly, waited for us to leave.
I figured he wanted the house to himself: scotch, cigars, silence.
Then the call came—and I got it.
He hadn’t cleared the house for peace and quiet.
He’d cleared it for her.

When Dorian Falco’s stepsister and secret lover was found brutally violated in a slum alleyway, the Mafia Don lost his fucking mind.
And he blamed me.
He dragged me into the manor's dungeon, throwing me to a dozen of his most depraved enforcers.
"Whatever Camilla suffered, you'll pay back a thousand times over."
I collapsed on the freezing floor, sobbing as I desperately clutched his pant leg. "I love you! I would never hurt her! Please, Dorian, believe me!"
Dorian only offered his cruelest sneer.
"Jealous that she gets the real thing? Fine. I'll make you filthier than she ever was."
He locked me in that blood-stained cell for seven days and nights.
His thugs, given carte blanche by the Don, whipped me with chains and violated me without restraint. I screamed Dorian's name in the darkness until my throat shredded.
Seven days later, Dorian returned with a recovering Camilla.
He stood outside the heavy iron door, his voice dripping with mock generosity.
"Crawl out here, Saoirse. Get on your knees, kiss Camilla's shoes, and maybe—just maybe—I'll let you live."
Silence. No answer.
Because three days ago, I had already died in that cell.

For three years, Caleb Vance and I were the two most mismatched people at Hometown Beans.
We fought every single day, couldn't stand the sight of each other — even Frank, our boss, just assumed it was a matter of time before we tore the place apart.
But I never expected that after one of our fights, an accident would cost me my memory.
And I definitely never expected to wake up to find the man I hated most in the world, his eyes red, telling the doctor:
"I'm her boyfriend. We've been together for three years."
Except I remember perfectly well that we were never together.
So when I decided to fake amnesia, I had no idea I was about to uncover a secret that would upend three years of bad blood between us.
And it all started the day Frank announced he'd be handing Hometown Beans over to one of us.

Ever since Her Majesty the Queen fell gravely ill, the entire dragon realm had been teetering on the brink of collapse.
In that precarious moment, it was I who held the throne together, heartbroken yet unyielding.
I depleted my magic without reservation to repair the realm's protective barriers, working through endless nights to brew life-sustaining elixirs for the Queen.
Yet when the Dragon Legion finally drove back the abyssal demons, what awaited me wasn't victory—it was a fatal blade.
My magic was shredded apart. The soul core in my chest was ripped out by a pair of familiar hands.
In my final moments, I saw the face of the one holding the knife.
My newly wedded husband, Drystan.
And beside him, pulled tight against his chest, was my half-sister Vespera.
"You're brilliant, Vespera." Drystan turned the faintly glowing core over in his palm. "A single forged love letter, and this fool willingly died defending our dying realm. Now even her core is mine."
Vespera nestled against him, emerald eyes glittering with greed. "Once you absorb this power, we'll return to the throne together. You'll still be the Empire's Crown Prince, and I'll wear the Crown Princess's coronet. As is only right."
Amid this sickening pledge of betrayal, I drew my last breath.
When I opened my eyes again, cold gray stone vaulting stared back at me.
I had returned to the day news of Drystan's death in battle reached the capital.
One glance toward the corner of the great hall told me everything.
That man stood there wearing a cold iron mask, posing as my dear sister Vespera's sworn personal knight.
You want to drain me dry? Steal my soul core?
Dream on.

Three years ago, Marco Ferraro stepped over the corpses of the Vancetti family to claim his throne, delivering my sentence with cold indifference: "Don't take it personally, Noelle. It's just business."
Three years later, he is the untouchable new Godfather of New York, while I am nothing but a ghost in a threadbare coat.
His classless fiancée didn’t just buy my mother’s legacy—she took that rare pink diamond and dropped it, right in front of everyone, into a glass of whiskey thick with spit.
"Thirsty, fallen princess?"
She kicked the backs of my knees hard, forcing me onto the glass-strewn floor. Her sharp stiletto heel ground into my knuckles. "Drink it, or die."
Marco stood to the side, lighting a cigar, his eyes filled with nothing but boredom.
I tightened my grip on the shard of glass hidden in my palm, ready to drag us all down to hell.
But before I could strike, the deafening roar of rotor blades tore through the dome of the auction house. A pitch-black military helicopter hovered just outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the violent rotor wash instantly shattering every champagne tower in the room.
A voice that made the entire underworld tremble boomed through the speakers:
"Which one of you suicidal bastards touched my woman?"
A dozen crimson laser dots instantly painted a target on Marco’s forehead.
Rafael, "The Phantom," had arrived.
Tonight, no one makes it out of here alive—except me.

Halfway through my wedding, five months pregnant in a custom gown, waiting to say "I do."
A woman stood up and stopped everything.
"I'm so moved seeing you both live in the house I designed." She raised her champagne, smiling like she owned the place. "The architecture, the interiors, the gardens—all mine."
My fiancé Dorian didn't even explain. Just helped her out, left me standing there in front of a hundred guests.
That's when it hit me: I'd been living in his ex-girlfriend's custom-built dream house for three years.
I found the blueprints later. Every page in her handwriting: "S loves morning light," "island height for S," "bathtub sized for two."
Date stamp: March 2019—a year before we met.
I confronted him. He shoved me, impatient.
I fell down the stairs. Lost the baby.
He was in the hospital hallway on his phone: "Don't worry, I'm coming over. We can't let rumors destroy Seraphina's career."
I lay there touching my empty stomach, and something clicked.
I was going to take that house back. Then tear it down myself.
Brick by brick. Smash it all.

All because I'd upset Lucia, my own brother and my husband had me dumped in the worst part of Naples to be taught a lesson.
Before leaving, Dante had paid the men watching me extra money and told them to make sure I learned my place.
For the next fourteen months, I became their favorite punching bag, a helpless prisoner they could torment whenever they pleased.
Any time I resisted, they made sure I regretted it.
It took three months for me to go from fighting desperately for my freedom to silently taking off my clothes whenever they demanded it.
Then, one afternoon, Toto, the man running the place, stormed into my crumbling apartment.
I instinctively started pulling off the only jacket I had left, knowing what his arrival usually meant.
Instead, he barked, "Put that back on! Your husband's here to take you home."
I stared at him, barely understanding the words.
Home? Did I even have one anymore?

It was the kind of cold that seeped into your bones.
In my past life, I was locked in the abandoned freezer beneath St. Jude Preparatory Academy.
Outside the door stood my biological brother Spencer, along with Landon—my boyfriend of three years. And between them, wearing Landon's oversized football jacket, was my stepsister Lacey.
"Blythe, just admit you bullied me. Post an apology video to the whole school, and Spencer will let you out." Lacey's voice trembled, fake tears glistening at the corners of her eyes.
Spencer's voice cut through the metal door like ice:
"Blythe, you brought this on yourself. You've been terrorizing Lacey at school, pushed her to the edge. Maybe some time in there will teach you what decency looks like."
Landon's voice dripped with disappointment: "Jesus, Blythe. I thought I knew you. This isn't who you are."
I pounded on the iron door until my fists were raw, screaming until my voice gave out.
I told them the truth—that I never touched Lacey. That she was the one forcing girls to their knees in the bathroom. That she stole my exam. That every shred of "evidence" was manufactured.
No one believed me.
I froze to death in that sub-zero hellhole.
As the cold claimed me, staring at my blue-purple fingers, all I felt was pure, burning hate.
Then I opened my eyes again—back to the day it all began.

In my past life, I was a wild, pureblood witch who tamed my own nature for love, willingly playing the submissive, perfect Luna for my fated Alpha.
But to him, I was just a savage that "needed to be brought to heel." When enemy wolves ambushed us, he held my manipulative, magicless adopted sister tight, leaving me to be ripped apart.
When I opened my eyes, I had been thrust back in time to the day of our Mating Ceremony.
Staring at the white gown that symbolized nothing but my submission, I slapped a thirty-million-dollar price tag on my "fated mate" and sold him right to my sister.
Using a pureblood glamour, I sent her to the altar in my place. Then I hopped on my motorcycle and rode straight into forbidden territory—right into the arms of the ruthless, unhinged "Mad Wolf" Alpha. He didn't want an obedient pet; he wanted a lethal queen to rule the wild by his side.
That night, when my arrogant ex sealed the irreversible mate bond, lifted the bridal veil, and realized the woman eternally bound to his soul wasn't me...
The icy, untouchable Alpha who spent a lifetime trying to break me completely lost his damn mind.

The day before Thanksgiving, my husband, David, dragged his suitcase to the airport, claiming he was flying to Seattle to meet an important client.
My parents took my younger brother to Miami for a vacation and conveniently took my six-year-old daughter with them.
With the house empty, I picked up a last-minute catering shift that paid double the usual hourly rate. I needed the extra money to cover next month's rent and buy David a gift. So I temporarily filled in as a dinner server at a mansion in Beverly Hills.
After changing into a black-and-white uniform, I entered the employer's home through the service entrance.
The person in charge was the lady of the house—a young, beautiful blonde.
She had barely led me through the hallway toward the main room when I saw several workers hanging a massive engagement portrait on the central wall.
The man in the photograph, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, was my husband of six years.
David.
I froze where I stood, my mind going completely blank.
"Move it a little to the left. Yes, that's it. Straighten it!" the blonde girl called out to the workers.
Then she turned toward me.
"What? Can't take your eyes off it? That's my fiancé."
She looked me up and down, her voice dripping with condescending, fake sympathy.
"Working on a major holiday? I guess you're not married yet."
I closed my eyes and took a slow, deep breath. "I am. But I'll be a widow very soon."

After the catastrophic war between the four great races ended in ceasefire, the Supernatural Council established an ironclad law—the Pact of Heirs.
Every hundred years, a Mating Season would open, where eligible heirs would compete to determine who would rule the world for the next century.
In my previous life, I chose to marry the wolf prince Darius, desperate to escape my status as a black-feathered orphan in the eagle clan.
The wolf clan's rule was brutally simple: whoever bore the first child carrying the matrilineal eagle-eye bloodline would claim dominion over all. I gave Darius that child. My son secured his throne and granted him absolute power.
My sister Cecily—the chieftain's true daughter—had set her sights on the vampire heir, drawn by their ancient nobility and dark allure. She married into their clan willingly.
But vampire bonds were cold as death itself. Her human-adjacent body couldn't sustain their offspring. She lost her fertility and became a cautionary tale whispered at every gathering.
Twisted by jealousy and shame, she decided I was to blame for her failures. She drugged my wine at a feast, then hurled me off Storm Cliff while I was too weak to spread my wings.
As I plummeted toward the rocks, someone tried to catch me—Kade, the exiled wingless dragon, his dark-scaled hand reaching desperately from a ledge.
But above us, Cecily stood at the cliff's edge, smiling as she cut through the safety rope he'd thrown. I hit the stones and everything went black.
When I opened my eyes again, I could still feel the phantom warmth of Kade's hand and the venom in Cecily's smile.
But somehow, impossibly, I was back—returned to the very day the Mating Season began.
Through the one-way scrying glass at the Observation Altar, I looked down at the moonlit sacrificial platform below. Cecily was already there. And she wasn't alone.
She'd been reborn too. I was certain of it.
But she didn't know what I knew—that Darius was a monster to his lovers.
During the full moon, when the wolf took over completely, he'd killed more than one partner in his bed.

In my past life, my twin Phaedra and I were both married off to the Dragon Clan on the same day.
I was given to the eldest son Magnus, while she went to the second son Drakon.
A year later, Phaedra gave birth to a small white dragon with scales like fresh snow. Meanwhile, I delivered nine children—all of them deformed monsters, bearing not a trace of dragon lineage.
Dragon King Typhon, a tyrant obsessed with bloodline purity and beauty, immediately stripped his eldest son of the inheritance rights and decided to pass the throne to his second son, Drakon.
Consumed by rage and humiliation, my husband Magnus descended into madness.
He ordered my nine children dragged into the Shadow Abyss and thrown into boiling blood pools as sacrificial offerings. Then he bound me tightly to the frozen altar pillar.
As the crimson winds howled from the blood pool, he mercilessly cut open my chest and carved out my nine-tailed heart while I was still breathing. I drew my last breath drowning in endless despair and blood.
When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back in the Dragon Clan's towering hall—at the mate selection ceremony that had sealed our fates.
In my daze, Magnus walked straight past me. His eyes brimmed with disgust as he unhesitatingly reached for Phaedra's hand instead. The same woman who had birthed that perfect white dragon in my past life.
But the fool had no idea my children's deformities had nothing to do with me—they came from his own cursed, rotting bloodline.

My boyfriend, Ethan Whitmore, has prosopagnosia. He can't remember faces unless he's looking right at them.
At our wedding send-off dinner, my roommate blindfolded him and challenged him to name three things about the woman he'd loved for four years.
"Big eyes. Small face," he said.
My heart nearly burst with happiness.
Even blindfolded, he still remembered me.
Then he smiled and added, "And there's a little mark behind her right ear. Cute."
My heart stopped.
Because I don't have a mark behind my ear.
The girl who does is Vivian Blake, the one who's been in his life for only eight months.
Four years of love, and he still couldn't remember me.
But eight months with her, and he knew every little detail.
I looked down at the promise ring spinning loosely around my finger, the tiny cartoon cat stamped into the band.
Ill-fitting. Thoughtless. Just like Ethan's love for me.
So I decided I would stop trying to leave a mark on a man who had never truly seen me.

During the Yearbook photoshoot, the photographer smiled and gestured for the couples to move closer together.
But Daniel pressed his hand against my shoulder and pushed me straight to the edge of the group, then turned and pulled Harper to his side.
"Harper and I are this year's Valedictorian and Salutatorian. It makes sense for us to stand together—it'll look better for the Yearbook spread."
This wasn't the first time he'd pushed me away.
When I brought him my AP Calculus mistakes, he barely glanced at them before saying my foundation was too weak—don't waste his time.
But when Harper, ranked second in our class, brought him basic algebra questions and played dumb, he didn't notice a thing.
He'd even FaceTime with her until two in the morning, patiently breaking down every single step.
When I wanted to study with him at the library, he'd frown and say I was breaking his focus.
But when Harper dropped just two points on a quiz, he'd skip track practice entirely to take her to the beach and cheer her up.
Right before the photographer pressed the shutter, he couldn't help teasing, "You two are a couple, right? You look like prom king and queen material!"
Daniel looked at Harper, his smile proud and tender. "We're always on the same wavelength."
Harper blushed and ducked her head as the guys from the team whistled and hollered around them.
I stood outside the noise, gripping my phone so hard my knuckles went white. The camera app I'd opened hours ago had already timed out.
The dark screen reflected the dress I'd tried on for hours last night, and the curls I'd ironed over and over again.
God, how stupid of me.
The spot beside him was never meant for me.
And now? I don't want it anymore.

Three years ago, in that deadly barrier, I carved out half my progenitor heart and dragged Theron back from death's door. The wound on my back has never healed.
I thought it was a soul blood pact—bound in life and death. Then Samaela appeared, that fragile human with barely a century to live, and it all became a joke.
He believed her lies. Swallowed every word about how I'd murdered her parents in cold blood.
For that pathetic creature who couldn't even bear sunlight, my carefully groomed blood vassal sawed off my pureblooded wings, ripped out my progenitor fangs with his bare hands, and threw me into the Silver Cathedral.
Three years. Nailed to a cross with pure silver chains, I endured concentrated UV rays and holy water burning through me day and night.
Everyone waited for me to go mad, to beg, or turn to ash. I didn't.
Listening to their wedding bells toll outside, I simply watched—in the silence of my flesh charring and regenerating—as the silver light on my chains fractured inch by inch.
Then I tore out the silver spikes embedded in my rotting flesh, dragged my bleeding wreck of a body forward, and kicked open the doors to the Crimson Blood Moon Gala's hall.
Theron had forgotten one forbidden clause in the blood pact: The oathbreaker's life belongs not to the gods, but to me.

In my previous life, on the night of our wedding anniversary, my husband Bryan brought his pregnant mistress, Victoria, into our home. Driven to the edge, I slashed my wrists to force him to kick her out.
No one could have predicted her blood sugar would suddenly crash in the freezing storm outside. She collapsed into a flooded ditch and froze to death before anyone found her.
Everyone ruled it a tragic accident, but Bryan decided her blood was on my hands.
Months later, when I went into labor, he abused his position as my doctor to deliberately delay my care. He left me to writhe through dozens of hours of agonizing contractions and severe hemorrhaging until I bled out.
When, with hands slick with my own blood, I begged him to save our baby, he calmly peeled off his soiled surgical gloves. The look in his eyes was merciless.
"Heartbroken?" he sneered. "Good. Take the brat down to hell with you to keep Victoria company."
An icy, suffocating darkness swallowed me whole.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the exact night of our anniversary—the very moment Bryan, bringing the freezing rain in with him, protectively guided Victoria through my front door.

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

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

To piss off my ex-husband, I ordered a companion android from his company—one with his exact face. I've been breaking it in every night for a month.
Then Genesis Bionics customer service sent me an email:
[Dear Ms. Rachel Knight, your custom order has not yet shipped. Please be patient.]
I looked up at the android buttering toast in my kitchen, my mind going completely blank.
Then who the hell is in my house?

The day I gave birth, I wasn't handed my crying baby, but a tight swaddle of blood-stained cash.
To secure his seat as the new Don, my husband had traded our newborn to Agatha—my own flesh-and-blood aunt, and the young wife of his paralyzed father.
Reduced to nothing more than a convenient incubator, I spent the next four years as a prisoner in my own home.
Ronald issued a ruthless order to his men: if I ever took a single step toward Agatha’s heavily guarded wing to see my son, I was to be shot on sight.
But a mother's desperation knows no bounds.
When my boy's fever spiked dangerously high, I blasted through armed guards and walked through a blazing inferno just to save his life.
Yet, the most fatal wound didn't come from the flames or the shattered glass.
It happened in the ER, when the four-year-old boy I nearly died to save woke up, shoved away my severely burned hands, and screamed for Agatha. He begged me to leave, crying that he just wanted to be a "real family" with his dad and the woman who stole my life.
Staring at the twisted family my husband and aunt had built upon my stolen motherhood, a sudden, icy numbness quieted my shattered world.
"Call me Mom one last time," I whispered through the ash and tears, "and I promise I'll never bother you again."

"Celestine, please, just help me this once! If even you can't make him fall for you, then I'll know for sure that he really loves me."
I was fooled by those very words in my previous life.
I softened and agreed to help a friend with a harmless little test, never realizing that the so-called "Wall Street rising star" was nothing more than a con artist living a lavish lifestyle by maxing out his fiancée's credit cards.
When the truth came out, my so-called good friend dumped all the blame on me. She sold fabricated scandals about me to the tabloids, destroying my reputation throughout New York's PR industry. In the end, she even pushed me from the top floor of the building.
She used my death to win sympathy and build herself a so-called "victim" persona.
But now, I'm back.
This time, I won't test anyone's love for her.
I'll make her watch every lie she fabricated come crashing down, one by one.

The agony of flesh being torn apart still burned in my memory.
But I had been reborn.
I tremblingly touched the face in the mirror. Whole, unmarked. Was this real?
Just moments ago I had been struggling on death's edge, and now I stood in an 18-year-old body. Everything felt too surreal.
The entire pack still thought I was that naive Seraphina, forever living in the shadow of my pureblood sister Zorvaya. They didn't know I had seen the darkest truth.
The door suddenly burst open, and Zorvaya walked in carrying a cup of hot tea.
"Seraphina, don't stress yourself." Her voice carried an air of superiority. "Given your... situation, the Moon Goddess would be more forgiving."
Looking at her flawless smile, I was nearly sick to my stomach. This face, this expression—I had witnessed it countless times in my past life.
"About fated mates and all..." Zorvaya gently stroked my shoulder. "It's not something you absolutely have to follow. If you find Alpha Torin too domineering, choosing a gentler Alpha would be a good option too. I'll stand by you either way."
Stand by me? I nearly laughed out loud.
In my past life, I had been blinded by these very words. I had given up other opportunities and chosen my fated mate Alpha Torin, only to become a tool to mask his true feelings.
The truth hadn't surfaced until Zorvaya's birthday celebration. When the rogue wolves' claws had targeted her, that man who had claimed to love me for years hadn't hesitated to push me toward the pack.
As I collapsed in a pool of my own blood, the wolf claws having torn deep gashes across my flesh, I watched Torin cradling Zorvaya protectively while she clutched her belly in panic.
"Save Zorvaya! Quickly, save her! The child in her belly..." Torin had immediately rushed her to the medical room.
No one had paid attention to me lying in a pool of blood. In everyone's eyes, only Zorvaya had mattered.
"It's all my fault," Zorvaya had said weakly. "If I hadn't gotten pregnant, Seraphina wouldn't have been lashing out in jealousy..."
What? She had actually claimed I was lashing out in jealousy?
"Seraphina, I'm sorry... I'll make it up to you in the next life." Torin had given me one last look, his eyes full of guilt.
Next life?
You got me killed, and you still wanted me to give you a chance in the next life? Dream on!

Ice slammed through my veins.
My throat locked up, crushed by an invisible fist. My body convulsed violently, mouth gaping open and shut, but no air came.
Through blurring vision, I saw my polished stepbrother Damien standing there, watching his watch—counting down the seconds I had left.
And Sophie—that scholarship kid who used to sob over dead ants—stood holding the empty syringe, her smile twisted and ugly. "Don't worry, Charlotte. I'll take real good care of your Ivy spot and your boyfriend."
The darkness swallowed me whole.

Blackmoor's Alpha needed an heir, and my greedy father sold me to him for a hundred gold coins.
His reasoning? My name was Felicity, which apparently sounded close enough to Fertility for him to call it a blessing from the Moon Goddess.
On my first night in the packhouse, I tried to explain.
"Alpha Kaelen, my name is Felicity. F-E-L-I-C-I-T-Y. It means lucky, not fertile. Those are two very different things."
Kaelen merely gave me a cold look.
"Then you have nothing to worry about. Follow the schedule, and Blackmoor will have its heir."
He even had a whole book dedicated to the task. Apparently, being the Alpha meant turning everything—including having pups—into a military operation.
But something strange happened before I could prove him wrong.
A poisonous snake died before it could bite him. His bedridden mother suddenly showed signs of recovery. And the pack's enemies began suffering one ridiculous disaster after another.
All while I was just trying to survive the packhouse, avoid bitter tonics, and find something decent to eat.
I told Kaelen I was his good-luck charm, not his future baby factory.
He didn't believe me.
But if my luck was really as powerful as I suspected, Blackmoor was about to discover that the biggest mistake its Alpha had ever made wasn't choosing the wrong woman.
It was refusing to believe her name.

When my own family and fated mate forced me to leap into the abyss, I did not hesitate.
"You wicked woman, why don't you just die?" My brother Carl pointed at the cliff and roared. "Jump into the Abyss of Sin and atone before the Moon Goddess!"
My fated mate, Enzo, looked at me coldly. "You owe Lilith this."
They expected me to kneel and beg as I had so many times before, insisting that I had never harmed my adopted sister.
Instead, I simply nodded.
Under their horrified gazes, I threw myself over the edge. My body vanished into the silver flames below and turned to ash in an instant.
They did not know this was the seventh obedience contract I had made with the Moon Goddess.
Once I completed seven acts of absolute obedience, I could sever my old bonds and be reborn.
Goodbye, my family—the people I once would have died for.

I am Mandy Langley, 42 years old, CEO of Sterling International. In Manhattan's cutthroat business world, I'd earned the name "Ice Queen."
Five years divorced, my ex-husband's parting words still stung—he'd called me cold as stone, said I was nothing but a dictator even in bed.
He had no idea my frost was a facade, hiding an emptiness and a craving no one could touch.
I controlled billions in assets, yet I lay awake every night, consumed by a single thought: I wanted a man to make me let go, to force me to surrender completely.
That man walked into my office three years ago, and I'd been drowning ever since.
Allen Thorne, my chief assistant, 28 years old—too young, shamefully young, and yet I couldn't resist him.
A year ago, I discovered the truth: he was the CEO of Vortex Capital, my rival, planted here to destroy me.
I should've fired him on the spot. Instead, I kept him close, pretending it was to watch him, when really, I just couldn't let him go.
Dangerous, magnetic, ruthlessly in control—he was everything I shouldn't want. I never exposed him. I fell harder instead.
I buried this forbidden desire, but every day he was there, right in front of me, taunting me.
What was I supposed to do? Cut him loose—or let him claim me?