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For fifteen years, Anastasia Stafford lived a life defined by a single, cruel purpose: to serve as a living blood bank for her adopted sister.

She gave everything—her health, her talent, and her dignity—only to be discarded and betrayed by the very family she tried so hard to please.

Her first life ended in tragedy, falling from a building with nothing but regret.

But fate has granted her a second chance.

Waking up on her twenty-third birthday, Anastasia decides she is done being the silent victim.

She steps away from the toxic Stafford Family and turns to the one thing they could never take from her: her extraordinary talent for design.

She catches the eye of Richard Roosevelt , a powerful CEO who offers her a partnership rather than pity.

Anastasia is no longer just surviving;

she is systematically dismantling the family that ruined her ，and hunting for the truth behind her mother’s death.

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All Kristen could offer is sex and nothing more due to her tragic past, She met Frederick at one of her craziest nights and slept with him but then, Frederick could go extra mile to make her see that there is more to life than holding on to THE PAST.
When she thought life was being fair to her, something terrible happened which opens up a past no one knows about. She lost her memory leaving her with no knowledge of who Frederick is and giving her a whole new identity.
Frederick would have to fight for a love he had nurtured for so long when Lous, an alleged fiance of Kristen surfaced.

I made Sebastian Grant date me for a year because I'd saved his life.
Even though he couldn't stand me, I pressed myself against him when he tried to leave, traced my fingers down his chest when he turned away.
When his friends talked trash, I left marks on his neck and sent him out where everyone could see them.
Then an anonymous text arrived: [I'm the one you saved that day. Not Sebastian.]
The photo attached turned my face white.
What would Sebastian do when he found out?

Six days after Alexander lost all contact, I navigated my way alone to the Nightfall Gala to find him.

The guard's expression twisted into something peculiar when he heard my purpose.

"You're saying you are looking for your mate, Prince Alexander? And what is your name?"

"I am Cecilia."

The guard let out a harsh, mocking snort. "Stop causing a scene! A blind beggar trying to pull a scam? Don't think you can just impersonate her just because you know the name of the Prince's mate."

"Everyone knows the Prince just gifted Cecilia the millennia-old Abyssal Night Crystal to celebrate her pregnancy! What the hell are you?"

Just then, the giant LED screen cut to the Gala's live broadcast.

"Allow me to formally introduce my partner, Cecilia. Furthermore, she is expecting. Our family is about to welcome a new heir." It was Alexander's voice.

"Thank you all. This is the greatest gift Alexander and I could ever receive."

The moment that sweet, timid voice echoed through the hall, a string violently snapped in my brain. A sharp ringing pierced my eardrums.

—It was the voice of my twin sister, Elena.

My world began to crumble the day my adopted sister, Opal, forced her way back into my life with a fatherless daughter in her arms.
My eldest son, Finn, was strapped to an operating table and used for live experiments until he was tortured to death. His remains were tossed into Death Valley.
For her, my husband struck me, costing me my second unborn child.
For her, my own brother locked me in a freezing dungeon. And my late father? He had been a slave to her charms long before he died.
While they threw a lavish birthday party for Opal’s daughter in the brightly lit banquet hall, I was pinned down by dungeon guards, my clothes being ripped off, inch by inch...

"Are you out of your mind?"

"The scouts are coming tomorrow, and you want to ditch the regional finals just to take care of her after a botched cosmetic procedure?"

I tipped off the school board to stop him from ruining his life.

Because of me, he won the championship and secured his draft pick. But because he stood her up, his girlfriend dumped him.

Years later, he sat at the top of a billion-dollar sports enterprise, while I was a researcher working for him.

Out of nowhere, he brought a carbon-fiber hockey stick down on my hands, crushing my finger bones to splintered dust

"Maeve, you cold, calculating machine," he spat. "This is your karma."

When I opened my eyes again, the agonizing pain was gone.

I had just been given a second chance.

He never planned to touch her, let alone crave her.

When ruthless billionaire Roman Thorne is forced into a strategic marriage, he chooses Elena Sinclair, quiet, obedient, and easily controlled.

Or so he thought.

Behind her innocent eyes is a sharp tongue, a hidden past, secrets, and curves that haunt his nights. Elena has no intention of being anyone’s trophy wife. She plays by her own rules, and Roman’s cold detachment only fuels her fire.

Now Roman wants more than her name on his paperwork. He wants her moaning his name in the dark. He wants her loyalty. Her heart. Her everything.

Too bad Elena didn’t come to be owned.

I found out my entire relationship with the golden boy of hockey was just a sick, twisted bet with his ex-girlfriend.

I gave Felix Sawyer my firsts, my heart, and my absolute devotion, only to stand frozen in a parking lot listening to him and his friends laugh at my pathetic existence. "The whole thing with Bethel was just a bet," he had smiled, shattering my world.

Years later, I’m no longer that naive college nerd. I’m playing in the championship finals, and the only thing standing between me and the trophy is the demon who ruined my life.

"Let's make a bet," Felix whispered, cornering me in the locker room before the game, his smug face inches from mine. "If you win, I'll crawl in the snow. But if I win... you belong to me."

I accepted, fueled by pure, unadulterated hate. I was going to crush him on the ice. I was going to make him bleed tears.

But I didn't.

I watched in absolute horror as the final buzzer blew, and the scoreboard mocked my failure. Felix skated toward me, the crowd chanting his name, a dangerous, predatory smirk on his face.

"A bet is still a bet, darling," he mouthed. And tonight, he was coming to collect his prize.

On my eighteenth birthday, I didn't get a cake. I got a slap from my mother and my MIT acceptance letter crushed under her heel.

In their eyes, I wasn't a daughter—I was a walking blood bank, a spare part for my cousin Jennifer.

They took my blood, made me take the blame, even sent me to prison in her place.

In that car accident, my mother saved my cousin without hesitation and left me to bleed out in the wreckage.

"Save Jennifer first! That wretch is too stubborn to die!"

That's when I gave up on them.

But what truly broke me wasn't being sent to a mental hospital—it was the diary I found hidden in my mother's safe.

My Husband Cheated on Me with His Cousin, So I Married His Boss.

Kalyssa always believed her marriage could survive anything. She trusted James until he started slipping away. Late-night calls. Locked doors. Half-truths dressed up as excuses.
When she finally follows him, she discovers the kind of betrayal that breaks something inside you forever…her husband in the arms of his cousin, Melissa. What should have ended in tears turns into something far worse. In one night, Kalyssa loses her company, her home, and nearly her life.
But someone saves her. A man she doesn’t know, or couldn’t remember. He’s powerful. Controlled. Dangerous in ways that make her pulse quicken. And he isn’t a man who lets go of what he wants.
As Kalyssa rebuilds her life, her husband and his cousin suddenly want her back.
How was she going to get back what he stole from her? What would she do when the man who saved her proposes a contract marriage?

The day my wife, Hollywood’s newly crowned Best Actress, landed an S-tier deal, she arrogantly tossed a separation agreement in my face.

“I’m moving into Beverly Hills. A salaried office worker like you will only drag down my status. If you can’t come up with a ten-million-dollar mansion, then get out of my life.”

She thought she had latched onto a media tycoon, and eagerly signed the “fake divorce loan” agreement I had tailored just for her.

What she didn’t know was that I wasn’t just the pathetic husband she thought I was. I was also a quantitative strategist from Wall Street, a man who could turn the markets upside down.

That ten million dollars became the seed capital I used to short the tycoon backing her.

When she was ruined at her movie premiere, burdened with crushing debt, and crawled barefoot like a stray dog up to the hillside mansion, begging hysterically for me to remarry her, I was already toasting a successful acquisition with my Wall Street partner.

Then I watched coldly as the security guards threw her into the Los Angeles night like a piece of rotten industrial waste.

“The perfect romance or beach read, with a difference: its enthusiasm and beautiful descriptions offer an unexpected attention to the complexity of not just evolving love, but evolving psyches. It's a delightful recommendation for romance readers looking for a touch more complexity from their romance reads.”--Midwest Book Review (For Now and Forever)THE GHOSTLY GROUNDS: SCANDAL AND SUPPER is Book #5 in a charming new cozy mystery series by bestselling author Sophie Love, author of The Inn at Sunset Harbor series, a #1 Bestseller with over 200 five-star reviews!Marie Fortune, 39, a successful dog groomer in Boston, leaves the stressful life behind and heads to a small town in coastal Maine to create a new life. She remains intent on renovating the old, historic house her great-aunt left her and giving it a new life as a B&B. Yet there was one thing she couldn’t plan for: the house is haunted. Two things, actually: her great-aunt also left her a dog—and he is far from a typical dog.When Marie is hired to cleanse a unique and massive hotel in a nearby town, the scope of it is beyond anything she has encountered before. Just as she wonders if she has finally met her match, she learns that her local Mayor is trying to re-zone the downtown—and to shut down her B&B while he’s at it. Having a murder in the mix—for which she is pinned—hardly helps matters, either. In a multi-front war for her survival, can Marie manage to purge the ghosts, stay out of jail, and keep her livelihood?A page-turning cozy, packed with mystery, love, hauntings, travel, pets and food—anchored around a small town and a B&B in need of renovation that will capture your heart—THE GHOSTLY GROUNDS is an un-putdownable cozy series that will keep you turning pages (and laughing out loud) late into the night.“The romance is there, but not overdosed. Kudos to the author for this amazing start of a series that promises to be very entertaining.”--Books and Movies Reviews (For Now and Forever)

On the first day of the zombie outbreak, my two roommates and I made a crazy decision: before the banking system crashed, we'd take out dozens of online loans and high-limit credit cards!
"Since it's the end of the world, who the hell cares about credit scores? Borrow money! Buy out the supermarket! We don't have to pay it back anyway!"
We smashed through walls, welded the security door shut, and used millions of dollars worth of supplies to build a makeshift shelter . We thought we could survive this catastrophe.
Until that day, in a moment of madness, I rescued a pregnant stranger right under the zombies' noses.
I forgot that in the apocalypse, the smell of amniotic fluid and blood is the ultimate death warrant that attracts monsters from the entire city…

"Sign it. Save her, and I'll give you anything."
For four years, I was Damian Wright's "invisible wife".
While I played the pauper, he poured his soul into his dying first love. Desperate, he blindly signed a stack of papers to buy the "Gifted Doctor's" time.
He didn't read the fine print. Buried inside was our Divorce Decree.
"Congratulations, Damian," I said, stripping off my surgical mask to reveal the wife he never truly knew. "You're free."
The submissive Amelia is dead.
The legendary "Ghost Surgeon"? That's me.
The blindfolded racing queen "Raven"? Also me.
The shadow behind the global intelligence network? Still me.
I was ready to vanish, but Lucas Sullivan—the titan who makes the Wrights look like peasants—blocked my path.
When Damian tried to reclaim me, Lucas didn't just stop him; he brought an empire to its knees.
"They don't deserve to look at you," Lucas whispered, his touch a lethal mix of protection and obsession. "But if you crave the world, Amelia, I'll burn it down just to hear you say my name."

“Did you really think a human girl like me could fall for your little game, Roman?”

Ella was supposed to be the pathetic human girl the Alpha boys could toy with. A scholarship student among wealthy, pureblood werewolves, she had neither their power nor their status. But when she discovers Roman’s cruel bet to make her fall for him, she decides to turn his game against him.

With a carefully crafted innocent smile, a few perfectly timed tears, and a mind sharper than any wolf’s claws, Ella begins playing the players. The gifts meant to humiliate her become money for her mother’s medical bills—and the arrogant Alpha who wanted to break her starts craving her attention.

But Roman isn’t the only dangerous man watching her. Stellan, the cold and unreadable quarterback, seems to see through every lie she tells.

Ella thought she was controlling the game. So why are the Alpha boys suddenly fighting over her—and what happens when one of them discovers her real strategy?

To help her husband build his business empire, Veyra worked two jobs, skipped meals, and sacrificed everything she had. When her mother desperately needed life-saving treatment, she couldn't even scrape together the money.
Then, on a New Year's Eve flight, fate seated her beside her husband's mistress. That's when she discovered the cruel truth.
Her husband had secretly amassed millions long ago. The wedding ring that belonged to Veyra now glittered on another woman's finger. The $500,000 that could have saved her mother's life had been spent instead on luxury gifts and pocket money for his lover.
She lost her baby. She lost her mother. And finally, she lost every illusion about the man she'd loved for years.
After leaving the airport, Veyra walked into a bar, kissed the most dangerous-looking stranger she could find, and spent one reckless night in his arms. By sunrise, she disappeared without leaving so much as her name. She thought it was nothing more than a farewell to her broken past.
She was wrong.
The stranger was Dorian—the most powerful, mysterious billionaire in the business world.
Meanwhile, her cheating husband finally realized what he had thrown away. He begged on his knees, signed a postnuptial agreement worth billions, and swore he would give up everything if she would come back.
But just as Veyra began plotting to reclaim everything that had been stolen from her, a mysterious car accident brought Dorian back into her life.
Only then did she learn the truth. He wasn't a stranger at all. He was her ex-husband's older stepbrother.
Now two powerful men are fighting for the same woman—one consumed by regret, the other determined to make her his.
Sorry, cheating ex... I choose your brother.

A week before our wedding, I discovered my girlfriend wearing the wedding dress I bought her, having sex with her step-brother.
I decisively chose to abandon her and instead accepted a marriage proposal from a true wealthy heiress.
But when I married the heiress, my ex-girlfriend knelt on the ground crying and begging me to come back.
What a pity - I no longer want her.

It was funny how being betrayed could change a soul.

They were orphans. They grew up together. They survived together. They killed the tyrant Alpha together.

But when the time came for him to propose his love for her and make her his Luna, all she received was a stab to her stomach.

He betrayed her for another. For the late tyrant’s daughter.

He buried her and thought that she had died. But just like how fate had played a trick on her, it also played a trick on him.

She survived, but was stuck in the den of a ruthless Lycan King, after a mate pull, which was stronger than anyone had ever felt, pulled them together by force.

{She is Demira, and welcome to her story}
…
This book is a dark werewolf romance story that is filled with pure chaotic drama and a little bit of tension and suspense.

So, add to your libraries, because you are in for a ride that will be stuck in your mind for a really long time.

The car crash six months ago destroyed my body. I survive the agony only through the painkillers prescribed by my brother, Fletcher.
While shopping for my wedding dress, I simply swallowed a pill on schedule. My mother responded with a slap that made me spit blood. My father stormed in and kicked my ribs in without asking a single question.
I fled crying to my brother, only for him to grab me in disgust: "You are a disgrace to this family."
I called my fiancé. He rushed to the scene, took one look at the pill, and called the cops without hesitation: "The engagement is off. She makes me sick."
In just a few hours, I went from a bride-to-be to a death row inmate.
But as the gavel fell, I saw our family maid calmly swallow the exact same pill from the gallery…
I lunged at the railing, screaming at the judge. He leaned down, a chilling smile spreading across his face: "Linnea, this is all because…"

“My world is a mess; you want nothing to do with this"
“You don't have the right to decide that for me." Her chest was heaving, harsh breaths scraping the walls of her nose. “I am your wife, and I am choosing to be in your mess."
He grabbed the back of her head and pulled her closer. “This is your last chance. Once you step in, I can never let go."
"I'm not planning on it."

Jade Saint, who was switched at birth, is coerced into an arranged marriage after returning to the Sterling home. That is, until Roman Volkov – the richest and most dangerous man in the city – claims her as his bride.
Desperate to save her dying adoptive mother, she willingly enters into a contract marriage with the devil himself.
But marriage to Roman is not what she thinks it is – not the enemies lurking in the shadows. Not the dangerous world he refuses to explain, and certainly not the way his cold touch begins to feel like a promise instead of a warning.
Because the more she tries to understand him, the more she realises he didn’t choose her by accident.
And the truth behind it all may destroy her.

As a wolf princess, I gave up my beast core, my dignity, and three years of life for my mate’s throne. I walked willingly into the lion clan’s darkest kennel camp, enduring beastly torture and dog-like degradation. I survived on rot and poison, clinging to false hope. Until I returned and learned the bitter truth: my wolf mate destroyed me with his own hands. The war was fake, and my hell was his deliberate choice.

The best deal I ever made in my life was selling my blood to a vampire.

I was a broke, permanently starving werewolf who needed ten times the food a normal person did just to feel full.

Evan was a vampire heir with a blood allergy, the kind where the smell alone made him sick and dizzy. Somehow his life was worse than mine.

Except my blood didn't trigger it. He never reacted to me.

So he pulled out his card. "I'll keep you fed. You let me feed off you."

This wasn't a vampire. This was a walking meal ticket.

For the next three years, he was the perfect meal buddy. Five meals a day, and he never once complained. Once I finished and let out a satisfied burp, it was his turn, just a small sip, nothing more.

Then, the year we graduated, he got a call from his family. He had to fly back to Europe that same night.

Before he left, I figured I'd thank him for three years of generosity. I pulled my collar aside.

"Go ahead, take more this time. Consider it a going-away present."

He hesitated, then leaned in.

But this time, once his teeth were in, he couldn't stop.

By the time he pulled back, horrified at himself, I already had a hand pressed to my neck, and everything went dark.

Since marrying into the Sterling family, I've been pregnant three times. Not one of them survived.

Every time the DNA test report arrived, my mother-in-law would drag me to the clinic for an abortion.

They said the fetus had genetic defects. But I secretly went to an outside hospital for tests, and the report clearly stated everything was normal.

After my third miscarriage, I followed my in-laws to the basement I was forbidden to enter.

I held my breath and pressed my eye to the crack in the door.

In that moment, I finally knew why they had to kill my babies.

Five years ago, Elena overheard the ambiguous whispers between her husband Arthur and his first love. In that split second, all her love for him crumbled to dust. She left the country with her pregnant belly, vowing never to have any connection with this man again.​
Five years later, Elena returns to her home country with her twins Liam and Luna—now a world-renowned top doctor. Unexpectedly, she finds herself entangled with Arthur once more. His eyes reddening with emotion, he grabs her abruptly and pleads, "Elena, I was truly wrong. This time, I will never let you get hurt again."

For love, I gave up my identity as a wealthy heiress and eloped with my poor boyfriend. To help him raise startup capital for his business, I spent Christmas Eve dressed as Santa Claus handing out flyers.
And he, just to make his first love smile, kicked me into the pool with one swift kick...

I've been able to see clocks above people's heads since the day I was born. As long as the hands keep moving, the bond between us is still alive.

Once the hands spin backward and stop at zero, that bond is finished.

When I was seven, the clock over my best friend's head just stopped one day. She drowned in the reservoir the next morning.

When I was fifteen, my grandfather's clock started ticking backward, slower and slower, until it stopped completely. He died peacefully in his sleep that same night.

When I was eighteen, my father, a drunk who lied about everything, slammed the door on his way out. I watched his clock vanish completely and knew right then he was never coming back.

Ever since, clocks scare me. I'm always afraid of watching someone I love get taken away from me.

So I keep my head down, holding on tight to the quiet, stable life I've fought so hard for.

Then tonight, I watch the clock above Marcus Hargrove's head start spinning backward.

What scares me even more is Willow's clock doing the same thing.

While I'm still trying to figure out why, the storm hits that night. He walks out on his daughter while she's burning up with fever and having convulsions, and runs straight to another woman.

His clock jumps back another notch.

1

The heiress of the wealthiest family was dead. Her death was caused by a plane crash planned her adopted sister. At a young age of 17, she had mastered so many skills while conquering the world. A top professor in world-class healthcare, she topped the world hacker list, joined a mercenary group ten years ago and became the world's top assassin with more hidden talents she used with hidden identities.
After her death, she's reborn into another body known as a worthless piece of trash, an ugly fat kleptomaniac filled with scars and acne and a foolish prankster.
She was scorned by her parents and often schemed against by her twin sister. The people in the society often curse and avoid her like the plague.
Until unexpectedly her beauty suddenly came back in thousand fold and then they started to realise otherwise.
Her top agenda is to reclaim her identity back and take back her position that her scheming adopted sister stole from her at all cost!

All my life, whenever I wished for something, my younger stepsister got twice as much. One doll for me meant two for Chloe. One bedroom meant she got a bigger room plus a study. Even my own mother seemed to love her twice as much.   Then a strange interface appeared on my phone and confirmed the rule.   So I stopped wishing for good things.   I wished for a twenty-six-year-old boyfriend. Chloe got a fifty-two-year-old stranger at our front door. I wished to lose ten pounds. She dropped twenty so fast she landed in the ICU. When my stepfather begged me to stop, I made one more wish.   I wished to lose six hours of sleep every night.   And Chloe got double.

"Come see our wedding invitations!" I excitedly held up the document folder I'd grabbed from ,my fiancé, Lorenzo's study, showing it off to his men in his private safe house on the Upper East Side.

Lorenzo and I had been running ourselves ragged this month preparing for the wedding.

Lorenzo's guys raised their glasses, waiting to see our custom-designed invitations. I eagerly turned the folder upside down—

Marriage certificates, wedding photos, and a property transfer document came tumbling out onto the floor.

Dead silence.

"Oh, these aren't our invitations..." I was still grinning foolishly. "Must be the wrong folder."

"Let me see which lucky lady is about to become a happy bride."

I looked down at the wedding photo. A beautiful brunette woman in an elaborate white gown smiled from the center of the picture, looking so blissful, so content.

When my eyes shifted to the groom beside her, my world collapsed.

It was Lorenzo. He wore a perfect black tuxedo, but he was tenderly embracing a woman I'd never seen before.

"Take me. Now, George."
As if he couldn’t wait a second later. Gently, he guided his length into her.
The feeling of him inside her for the first time, filling her up beautifully was addicting. Isla jerked up against him, spreading her legs wider and encouraging him to go deeper. She was already at the brink of exploding with the erotism of it all.
George let out a loud groan when he was buried inside her, stretching her to the max. Her walls clenched down on him, trying to push him out, but he wasn't going anywhere soon. Slowly, he started to pump, sliding in and out of her hot, wet and velvety canal.. The feel of her made him want to pound away with abandon, but he held back, not wanting to hurt her. He knew he wasn't eh...average sized.
Isla's heart had been shattered, leading her to swear off love forever. However, fate had other plans when a charismatic and flirtatious neighbor entered her life. Tempted by the possibility of love, Isla found herself drawn to him, unaware of the dangerous secret he harbored. This secret had the potential to break her heart once again.
In the contemporary romance novel, "Chaos: When A Billionaire Meets A Secret Agent," animosity and desire collide in unexpected ways. Readers will be captivated by the fiery encounters, playful banter, and undeniable chemistry between the characters.
Welcome to a world where love and fear intertwine, as Isla must decide whether to let her past dictate her future or take a chance on love once more. Get ready for a thrilling journey that explores the complexities of relationships and the power of embracing the possibility of love.

"I, Dominic Thorne, hereby reject you as my fated mate." Those words shattered my soul in front of the entire pack. Eighteen years old, and I still couldn't complete a full shift—the "defective reject" everyone loved to mock. But what nobody knew was the monster sleeping inside me. When a stranger with golden eyes found me bleeding in the forest and whispered, "You're not broken. You're something the world hasn't seen in a thousand years," I realized my rejection was only the beginning. Something ancient is waking up inside me. And it's hungry.

The first time they met, Jace looked her in the eye and said, "I don't sleep with virgins. Too much trouble. No satisfaction."
The second time, desire betrayed his rules. "Walk away, Nerissa. Or I'll stop pretending I can resist you."
The 99th time, everything changed. "I don't want to be your lover anymore. I want to be your husband."

To save her father's life, Nerissa offered the only thing she had left — her first night. The buyer? Dr. Jace Whitmore. Cold, powerful, and dangerously untouchable.

For Nerissa, it was supposed to end when the debt was paid.
For Jace, it was just lust. He thought once he tired of Nerissa's body, letting her go would be easy.
But neither of them expected to fall — hard.

As desire deepens into something dangerously close to love, their fragile bond is tested by ruthless enemies, haunting secrets, and the brutal reality of their worlds: hers, humble and struggling; his, ruthless and elite.

Can a relationship born of desperation and desire survive the storm — and turn into something real?

For ten silent years, I propped up a boy named Lycan—the least favored Alpha heir in his pack. Everyone said his bloodline was too thin, that he didn’t even deserve to compete for succession.

So I paved the way with money, used resources to help him awaken his bloodline, sent him to the best academy, and made sure he not only secured the position of pack’s new Alpha, but also crossed into the human world to become an Oscar-winning actor hailed by millions.

Tonight was his coronation and his Oscar night rolled into one. I sat in the shadows of the audience, watching him grip the trophy, debonair under the spotlight, genuinely happy for him. When his gaze skimmed across the crowd and landed on me, my chest warmed.
Did Lycan…notice me?

The next second, he faced the camera and spoke, frost-cold:
“I want to thank someone—she taught me what harassment really is.”

News broke that a classmate had fallen from a building. The forensic assessment said it was homicide. Someone claimed they’d seen the killer: a young girl in a red coat.
The police came to our home. My stepsister shoved me forward. Mom said, “My daughter owns a red coat and she wasn’t at home yesterday.”

Everyone used to say Ethan Ward was crazy about me.

Then, three days after our worst fight, he got together with Avery Shaw—the freshman who had been chasing him for months.

That same day, the world ended.

I got bitten and turned into a zombie.

For days, I wandered without thought or purpose. Then I saw Ethan shielding Avery with his own body, and something inside my ruined head woke up.

His friend asked, “Aren't you worried about Nora?”

Ethan's brow tightened.

“Don't say her name. She was too stubborn for her own good. If she got turned, that's on her.”

He glanced over.

His eyes met mine.

My mother was dying, and I—the fallen heiress of the Sterling family—had no choice but to ask my husband for the $200,000 stipulated in our prenuptial agreement, less than a week after our wedding.

He transferred the money without a word.

But that night, the way he looked at me changed.

"So the Sterling family is drowning in fraud scandals. I guess greed really does run in the blood."

From that day on, Theodore never looked me in the eye again.

He started openly parading other women at social events, letting everyone mock me as a gold-digger who only married him for money.

Today is my birthday. I'm sitting in the emergency room with unbearable stomach pain.

Meanwhile, Theodore is throwing a party for his new girlfriend.

Clutching the $185 emergency room bill, I call him.

"Theodore, let's get a divorce."

"Here we go again. How much are you trying to extort from me this time?"

For three long years, my husband Richard has refused to touch me. All because of one tragic accident that stole our three-month-old baby… an accident that wasn’t even my fault.

I tried everything to win him back. I begged, I cried, I seduced. Nothing worked.

Desperate and burning with unmet desire, I found myself drawn to my new boss, Teddy. With one smoldering look, he awakens the fire I thought had died inside me. I crave him. I need him. But I’m still married… and I still love Richard with all my heart.

Then came the business trip that shattered everything.

In a single night, I discovered Richard’s secret—he’s been cheating on me all along.

Rage and years of pent-up hunger collided. That night, I finally unleashed.

But after the trip what becomes of me, my husband and my boss, even his lover.

Three years of marriage, and she was nothing but his invisible "secretary" — or worse, the woman he accused of drugging him to get a ring on her finger.
It wasn't until Grace watched Alfred stroll out of the VIP terminal with his ex on his arm that she finally understood. This marriage had only ever been real to one of them.
She signed the divorce papers without a scene. Quietly resigned. And moved on.
That's when he lost control.
"Grace, who gave you the right to just leave?"
"Is this about another man? You're divorcing me for him?"
Then came the night he stood in the rain, eyes red, blocking her path.
"I was wrong. Can we go home?"
She looked at him and said simply, "Mr. White, we're already divorced."

Some rules are meant to keep us pure. These stories spread your legs and make you beg to break them.

Stepbrothers who shouldn’t touch you, but shove you against the wall and make you scream their name.

Protectors who swear to guard your body, only to break every oath as they fuck you into the mattress.

Strangers who taste like sin and don’t stop until you’re ruined.

Masked lovers who hide their faces while they spread you open and make you beg.

Even supernatural beasts who mark you, breed you, and take you raw until you’re theirs completely.

This isn’t sweet romance. It is raw heat that claws, bites, and devours.

Dangerous, possessive men you should run from, but instead, you’ll spread wider, sink deeper, and take every filthy drop they give you.

Every page is a dare: moan louder, take more, surrender deeper. Because once you give in to the forbidden, you won’t just fall, you’ll beg to be destroyed.

Welcome to your new addiction.

Every July, my husband left for a business trip to France—so for seven full years of marriage, we never once got to celebrate our wedding anniversary.
This time, I flew all the way to France to surprise him, and mid-flight, I stumbled across a social media post.
My dream girl finally agreed to be with me. How do I make the frumpy, worn-out wife back home file for divorce on her own?
The OP poured out his grievances in the comment section:
When my dream girl suddenly moved abroad, I married her former best friend to keep me company through the hard times, just so I wouldn’t lose touch with her completely.
Now she’s finally said yes to being with me, and I’ve made enough to give her the lavish, privileged life she deserves.
I want my wife to find out about my affair herself so I can get a clean divorce without a fight, but she’s so painfully oblivious. I’ve come home reeking of my dream girl’s perfume on purpose, and every single July I fly here to France for our private time together, watching the lavender bloom in Provence with her. She never noticed a thing.
Perfume. July. France.
Those matching details made my fingers go numb. A deafening buzz exploded in my skull. A bone-deep chill washed over me, and I prayed with everything I had that it was all just a terrible coincidence.
Until I read the final line.
Just got a spending alert from her supplementary credit card—she bought a flight to France. I’m heading to pick up my dream girl now, might as well keep an eye out for her, just in case.
The plane touched down. When I stepped into the arrivals hall, I lifted my head almost instinctively.
There stood Shen Sinian, the man I hadn’t seen in two weeks, in a crisp, tailored suit, a bouquet of roses in his hand, locked in a passionate kiss with a woman with a stunning, willowy figure, her back to me.
He opened his eyes by chance, and through the crowd of travelers, his gaze locked directly with mine.

I don’t remember who I am. Not where I came from. Not who I can trust.
All I know is that I woke up at a party, surrounded by strangers—until Killian, Khai, Elijah, and Asher, four hot dragons, stepped in to help me. There’s something about them that makes me feel safe around them. And when they tell I'm their fated mate, I finally feel like I can breathe again.
But it’s not that simple.
They tell me one thing, but I can feel it—they’re holding back. They promised me no lies, but when I found out one of them is engaged, I ran. I panicked. And it turned out to be my biggest mistake.
Because I fell into the hands of some very dangerous people.
Now, all I can do is hope they come for me.
And if they don’t… I’ll have to fight my way out.
And that won’t be easy, especially when I’m trapped on a ship surrounded by a magical mist.


“See what you are doing to me, Muffin?” I nod, my eyes fixed on the tip of his dick. I want to taste him. “Do you want to help me feel good?”
I swallow hard. “I don’t think that will fit inside me,” I squeak.
The corners of his mouth twitch. “You will take every inch of my cock, because you are my sweet girl and you want to please me.”
My clit throbs again.
Khai inhales deeply. “Fuck, Muffin. You’re wet again.”

First day back after the long weekend. I get a few artisan gift baskets shipped in from my family's farm: maple syrup, raw honey, smoked beef jerky, handmade jams. Top-shelf stuff, every single one. Shipping alone runs me a few hundred dollars.

After the morning meeting, I hand them out one by one. The team crowds around me, all smiles, falling over themselves saying things like "You're literally the best, Ms. Bennett" and "Oh my god, you're such an amazing boss."

They're barely out the door when I notice the conference room projector is still mirroring someone's phone. Up on the screen: a private group chat. Fifteen members.

Everyone on the team is in it.

Everyone except me.

A new message pops up: [Farm junk? Really? Preston Vance's team got $200 gift cards AND black truffle. Sloane's such a cheap ass lol]

Replies flood in. Someone photoshops a picture of me. Someone else hopes I drop dead at my desk.

To them, I'm just another boss squeezing her people dry.

Last quarter, I handed every single one of them a three-thousand-dollar cash bonus out of my own pocket. Plus a brand-new phone. Each.

Fine. If they think I'm not giving enough, I'll give them exactly what they're asking for.

Though later, when they come crawling back one by one, I find myself wondering what exactly they think begging is going to get them.

To save enough for a summer trip with my boyfriend, Tripp, and his friends, I worked late every night after school as a food runner at the upscale French restaurant in town.

Tripp told me his family didn't have much money. He wore old thrift-store T-shirts and always ordered the cheapest lunch in the cafeteria.

I felt bad for him. During the year we were together, I quietly paid for most of our dates.

Until one night, when I carried a bottle of wine to a private dining room and heard voices coming from inside.

"Tripp, how long are you going to keep pretending you're broke?" It was Chase, Tripp's best friend.

Then I heard Bitsy's sugary-sweet voice. She and Tripp had grown up together. "Thanks for the limited-edition bag, Tripp. Eighty grand, and it's absolutely gorgeous. I love it!"

I froze. An eighty-thousand-dollar bag? He wouldn't even spend twelve dollars on a burger.

Then Tripp spoke in a lazy drawl. "Girls like Nora are low-maintenance. She's easy to fool. Buy her an iced latte, and she'll act like it means the world to her. She barely costs me anything."

He had never really cared about me.

My boyfriend's mistress deliberately gave me a strawberry cake that I'm allergic to.
After I went into anaphylactic shock and had a miscarriage, I knew it was all over.
But when I left it all behind and went back to my hometown, he showed up at my door telling me to quit throwing a fit, that he still loved me.
This kind of love full of betrayal?
I don't want it.

At the parents' meeting, the daughter's diary was read aloud: "My father is the Grand Duke of the Night."
The room erupted in laughter.
The mentor, disregarding her daughter's dignity, tore up her diary, while the nouveau riche woman advised me , a liar, to "get out of this neighborhood."
I didn't say anything, I just stood up. Then, their knees were all shattered.

Three years ago, Grant divorced me while I was pregnant.
That same day, I was in a car accident, and our baby didn’t survive. Grant never found out because he was celebrating another woman’s birthday.
Three years later, he decided that the son I had raised was his. He took the boy away without permission and exposed him to a cat, triggering a severe allergic reaction that nearly killed him.
When Grant finally knelt and begged me to take him back, I told him only one thing:
“I stopped loving you a long time ago.”

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

As the most cold-blooded and ruthless Mafia don, Twain Hall had doted on me like the apple of his eye for ten years.
But on the very day we were discussing our wedding, the ring his subordinate delivered had another woman's name engraved on it—not mine.
I pretended not to notice and turned to Twain.
"Did they bring the wrong ring? Who's Dorothy? I've never heard of her."
Twain's expression didn't change. He pulled me into his arms with that familiar, indulgent look.
"My people weren't careful. Made a fool of themselves."
"I'll have them exchange it right away. Can't keep my queen waiting."
I smiled. But the moment I turned away, my face went cold. I dialed a number.
"Didn't you say you'd pay any price to marry me? Twain Hall betrayed me. I want his head!"