2915 Book(s) Related to is i killed molly monroe a true story

Kieran Silvermane was never supposed to be mine.I was the girl he paid to finish his assignments, fill his attendance, and disappear when his real life walked in.So when the Moon Goddess bound us together—choosing me as the Alpha heir’s mate—I believed, for one foolish moment, that I was finally someone’s first choice.I was wrong.He rejected me under a full moon. In front of his pack. In front of everyone who already thought I wasn’t enough.Shattered and unable to even shift, I was ready to leave Northcrest and never look back.Until his father made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.Now I live under the same roof as the man who destroyed me—the man who swears he rejected me to save me.Because Kieran Silvermane is cursed.And loving me might be the one thing that kills us both.

Betrayed and creatively blocked, erotic artist Lucia Lane has sworn off love until her infuriatingly gorgeous new neighbor crashes into her life. NHL bad boy Noah Lawson is loud, arrogant, and impossible to ignore… especially after he saves her from a violent attack and the world mistakes them for lovers.

A fake relationship should be simple. No feelings. No rules broken.

But Noah isn’t just hockey’s golden god he’s a cursed Alpha werewolf hunting a killer and fighting a destiny written by the Moon Goddess. From the moment he catches Lucia’s scent, his wolf knows the truth: she’s his fated mate.

As hate turns to scorching desire and secrets about Lucia’s bloodline surface, their pretend romance becomes dangerously real. Under the full moon, one bond could break his curse… or destroy them both.

“Hide! Hide!” I yelled, striking Greg violently in the butt. I sensed his astonishment but I didn’t give a damn. If he loved me, he'd understand I was in a precarious situation. “What the hell's happening?!” Greg screamed but I still pushed him into my wardrobe anyway as Fred's voice echoed through the house. I can't imagine the torment I'd face if I was caught in a relationship with a man. 7 years ago, I worked for the Richardson family with my mother and when I lost her to cancer, I decided to drop out of school. However, luck was on my side or so I thought. The Richardson adopted me as their own but when I thought my life was starting to get better, Fred the true son of the family came into my life. It went downhill from there. I became a sex toy for him and it even got worse when my adoptive father joined his son to make my life a misery. I became traumatic. Not even the sweetest prince charming could woo me into liking him. To hell with every man! I hated them all until Greg came along. He loved me more than I loved myself but what could I do? Both father and son of the Richardson family had issued me a stern warning to shut every man out – I was an exclusive property. Would I ever get a shot at true love when my life’s a living hell?

"Is lying the only skill you have left? Don't play dead until you actually land in a coffin!"
That was what my billionaire brother roared as he crumpled my stage-four cancer diagnosis and threw it at my face.
To him, I was a spoiled brat who needed a brutal reality check.
He engineered a fake DNA test, gave my identity to a manipulative orphan girl, and watched me get dragged to a disciplinary camp.
Now, he offers me an arrogant ultimatum: Stay quiet and wait half a month, and he’ll graciously allow me to come home.
I clutched my agonizing stomach and laughed until I cried.
Wait half a month?
I can't even guarantee I'll wake up tomorrow.
But I can't wait to see his face when he finally decides to forgive me, only to realize I've already been dead......

As I collapsed in a pool of my own blood, the mate-link deep in my mind flared with the thoughts of my Alpha husband, Cullen:
 
'I only had my men give Ayla ten lashes to let Selena vent her frustration. How is she bleeding this much?'
 
'She must be using fake blood again, trying to guilt-trip me into coaxing her.'
 
What he didn't know was that those ten lashes had claimed the life of our two-month-old unborn baby.
 
Nor did he know that I had just been diagnosed with terminal Wolfsbane Necrosis. I had permanently lost my werewolf healing abilities.
 
This wasn't the first time he had hurt me for Selena's sake.
 
When Selena suffered from insomnia, he extracted my heart's blood to use as her cure; when she needed to vent her temper, he turned a blind eye as his guards held my head under the freezing waters of the icy lake.
 
And this time, Selena had caused an absolute catastrophe, provoking a savage pack of rogue wolves.
 
Cullen looked down at my curled-up, trembling form, his tone leaving no room for argument:
 
"Since you are the Luna, you should bear the responsibility. Go to the rogue camp and take the fall for Selena."
 
"With a werewolf's physique, taking a beating won't kill you."
 
He didn't know that Selena had already bribed those rogues to torture me to death.
 
But I didn't cry and beg for myself like I usually did. I simply leaned against the wall and forced myself to stand.
 
"Fine. I'll go."
 
For a split second, a flash of astonishment crossed his eyes. He had no idea that those words were my final goodbye to him.

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

He fell in love with me, a bartender.

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

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

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

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

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

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

After three years of agonizing IVF, I was forced into three abortions. The reason? My mafia in-laws’ pet bird stared at my belly and shrieked, "End it."
Even when I was carrying healthy twins, my own parents held me down and forced abortion pills down my throat. My husband—the man I once took a bullet for—watched coldly. "Listen to the bird. Abort."
Lying in a pool of blood, I finally discovered the horrific truth. There was no "sacred bird." My marriage, my ruined womb, and all the IVF tortures were actually part of a terrifying conspiracy.
On my fourth pregnancy, the bird finally decreed, "Keep it!"
As the whole family treated me like a queen and rejoiced to welcome their precious heir, I quietly walked into the operating room.
Armed with lethal evidence, I crashed their grand succession ceremony.
You want an heir? I’ll send you all to hell instead.

Charlotte Hayes never dreamed of becoming Mrs. Hawthorne.
After a life-changing night left her pregnant, Ethan Hawthorne was forced to marry her to take responsibility for their unborn child and protect the Hawthorne family's reputation. But the marriage Charlotte believed would be the beginning of a happy family became the beginning of her nightmare.
Inside the Hawthorne Mansion, she was treated not as a wife, but as a servant. Every day, she was humiliated, overworked, and starved by the Hawthorne family. To make matters worse, her former best friend, Vanessa Caldwell—the woman the Hawthorne family had always wanted Ethan to marry—slowly took her place and stole her husband's heart.
When Charlotte uncovered the secrets of the Shadow Circle, a powerful organization controlling the country's biggest corporations, she became a threat they couldn't afford to leave alive. Before she could expose the truth, she was murdered in a staged accident.
But death was not the end.
Charlotte opened her eyes in the body of Olivia Whitmore, the sole heiress of Whitmore Enterprises, who had also died under mysterious circumstances on the very same night.
This time, she won't return to fight for love. She'll return to uncover the truth, destroy the people who ruined her life, and seek justice for both herself and Olivia.
But what happens when the man who once abandoned her falls in love with her all over again... without realizing that the woman he's desperately trying to win back is the very wife he once failed to protect?
When Ethan finally learns the truth, will regret be enough to win Charlotte back... or has he already lost her forever?

My name is Damian Lemaître.

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

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

"Damian Flamel, are you willing?"

"No."

My fiancée and best friend, whom I risked my life to protect, sold me to the brutal "Blood Blade Gang . "
They laughed as they watched me being kicked into a pool of radioactive waste like a dog, waiting for me to turn into a pile of bones.
But they didn't know that the deadly radiation not only failed to melt me, but also forcibly ruptured my genetic lock, awakening the [Nuclear Fury].
I rode back to the old camp in her heavily armored vehicle.
Those two scoundrels were still arrogantly bullying me: "I have the Blood Blade Gang backing me! The big shots are coming soon, you're dead!"
I sneered and slapped them away.
Idiots, look back! Your so-called powerful backer is kneeling in the vehicle, lighting my cigarette.

On my son's seventh birthday, he hid behind my husband's first love and shouted at me, "You're a bad woman! She's my real mom!"
My husband was even crueler. He threw me out of the house without a second thought.
"To me, you were nothing but a surrogate."
Heartbroken, I walked away—and later adopted an abandoned little boy.
Years passed, when my husband finally learned the truth about the woman he had always protected, he came to me with our biological son, both of them kneeling before me in tears, begging for forgiveness.
Holding my adopted son's hand, I smiled calmly.
"Sorry. I only have one son."

For three years, I lived across the country to raise our grandson while my husband stayed alone in Chicago—or so I believed.
Two days before Christmas, I came home early to surprise him. My key no longer fit the lock.
When Harold opened the door, he was wearing a silk robe I had never seen. Behind him stood another woman in house slippers. Her toothbrush was beside his. Her clothes were in my closet. And for two years, she had been sleeping in my bed.
Then I checked our bank account.
She hadn’t only taken my place.
Harold had been giving her my retirement, my home—and even my mother’s jewelry.

In my previous life, an extreme cold apocalypse descended.

I risked my life nine times over to evolve into a high-tier Ice Plains Wolf, and just to find a piece of meat to keep my fiancée alive, I frantically tore apart wild beasts in the snow. Yet I was betrayed by her and her lover—they cut out my heart with an ice blade!

When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn half a month before the apocalypse!

Time was running out. To awaken the highest tier of beast-human form, I needed an enormous amount of meat to provide energy.

Sports cars? Ocean-view villas? Billions in assets? I wanted none of it!

I immediately dumped my manipulative fiancée, liquidated all my assets into cash, bought a fully enclosed fortified meat processing plant, and frantically stockpiled hundreds of thousands of tons of high-calorie raw meat!

The extreme cold arrived as expected, turning the entire city into a frozen hellscape.

The scumbag pair who betrayed me in my previous life now knelt outside my impregnable airlock door, crying pitifully and begging me for scraps.

I stepped out of my fortress and looked down at them with claws sharp enough to tear through steel:

"Want meat? Go to hell and eat dirt!"

I was never supposed to exist in the Blood Moon Pack, low-born, no surname, no family to shield me.
Yet the Alpha chose me and called me “his one and only mate for this lifetime”.
He said he loved me.
So I endured. I stepped back. I forgave him again and again.
Until the day I was pushed down the stairs, dragged into the punishment grounds, strapped to an electric restraint bed, and heard them calmly discussing how far they should go this time; what kind of punishment would finally make the “real family” feel at ease?
That was when I understood in their world, I wasn’t a mate. I wasn’t family. I wasn’t even seen as a person. I was just a bargaining chip, but something disposable, something meant to be sacrificed when convenient.
So I learned to stay quiet, to remember everything, and to wait.
They thought I died in that fire.
But when I stepped back into the moonlight, I was no longer an Omega.

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

To raise money for my younger brother’s surgery, I forged my degrees, polished my résumé, and forced my way into high society. In everyone’s mouth, I’m that woman—
the scheming bitch, the liar, the “evil bride” clinging to an old rich man.
They all think I’m obsessed with Mr. Grant, the financial shark’s mountain of assets.
Only I know the truth—what I’m really clinging to is my brother’s life.
No one expected that the first man I fell for at first sight…would be his heir, Adrian.
And yet in a blink of eyes, I became his “stepmom in name only.”
On our wedding day, everyone laughed at how shameless I was:
“She marries the dad and still dares to seduce the son?”
“Vicious little con artist—who knows what cheap tricks she pulled to marry in?”
Adrian was no exception.
He called me a liar, a manipulator, dumped all his hatred on me—said I’d do anything for money, that I was a tumor climbing up off their wounds.

Seven years ago, I signed a mate contract as Luna.
For my mother’s dying wish and for the Pack’s stability, I personally pushed a man with nothing to his name onto the Alpha throne.
I held the Pack together for him, expanded our businesses, and handled the filthy negotiations and the deals no one wanted to see in the light.
Everyone said—
I was calm, I was formidable, I was qualified.
Just… not much like a “gentle mate.”
Until that day.
I stood in the bedroom and watched my Alpha husband lay his hand over my paralyzed stepsister’s slightly rounded belly.
They told me it was for the greater good of the Pack.
That child would be registered under my name.
He would call me Mother.
I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream.
I just waited for the seven-year term to hit its end and activated the trust clause my mother left behind.
Accounts frozen.
Capital withdrawn.
The wolf empire I built with my own hands collapsed overnight.

She built a quiet life from the wreckage of a marriage that nearly swallowed her whole. A bakery. A hidden talent for art. And a son she loves more than breathing. At forty, Corinna Adler is composed, grounded, but devastatingly unsated, starved and untouched.

One night was supposed to fix that.

One anonymous night at Obscura, the city's most secretive underground club with a man whose hands knew things about her body she had forgotten were possible. Young, commanding, and patient. The kind of man Corinna would unfortunately, never forget.

Because the morning after, he re-introduces himself into her reality in a way she never sees coming.

"Evelyn Drake, are you truly set on joining the FBI as an undercover agent?"
The senior officer Garrett stared intently at the elegantly dressed woman before him, his gaze laced with inquiry and faint doubt.
It was his occupational habit, even a special knack, to categorize everyone he met into distinct social ranks—and he was exceptionally good at it, never once misjudging anyone.
In his eyes, Evelyn Drake, with her flawless makeup and platinum-blonde hair all the way down to the roots, was far from cut out to be an agent.
He had seen countless such pampered wealthy wives throwing petty tantrums. Most would make a scene at the front desk, only to be coaxed home meekly by their rich husbands soon after.
If such a delicate lady were admitted into the FBI, he suspected even the Kevlar bulletproof vest alone would chafe her soft skin raw.
Lost in these thoughts, Garrett let out a disdainful chuckle, his tone brimming with scorn. "Are you really sure? You'd give up your lavish lifestyle to become an FBI agent?"
Sensing his contempt, Evelyn took off her expensive wristwatch and slipped it into her handbag, then nodded firmly at him. "I am absolutely certain."

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

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

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

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

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

My name is Arthur, Atlantic City’s number one pauper and absolute peerless coward.
On the outside, I roar with sheer arrogance: "The debt collector has returned from Hell!"
On the inside, I’m sobbing hysterically: "Mommy, save me! I really don‘t want to act tough!"
My name is Arthur, a complete coward whose hands shake even when trying to kill a chicken.
That was, until I was bound to a completely unhinged [Absolute Bully System].
[Ding! Novice Bully Quest: Crash the Mafia banquet and splash red wine on the face of the corporate heiress!]
[Ding! Advanced Quest: Steal the Underground Godfather's wife!]
[Ding! Ultimate Quest: Walk right up to the Underground Godfather and slap him mercilessly across the face!]
"Screw you! I don't even have the guts to kill a chicken, and you want me to beat up the Emperor of the Underworld? No way! I'd rather starve to death than dig my own grave!"
[Ding! Host's refusal detected. Punishment impending: Serial sphincter rupture resulting in explosive public diarrhea, accompanied by penile retraction into the abdomen, and the reverse fracturing of all 206 bones. It will take seven days and seven nights for you to finally die! Countdown: 3 seconds.]
"... System Daddy, I was wrong."
To avoid dying of explosive diarrhea, I had no choice but to let the System control my body, kick the doors open, heft a Gatling gun, and laugh maniacally: "So you're supposed to be the Underground Emperor?!"
But deep down in my heart, I was wailing uncontrollably: "Mommy, save me! I really don't want to act tough anymore!"

Reborn seven days before the zombie siege, Shen Lie returns to the day he was tricked into a deadly dark web live stream. Betrayed by his wife and trapped as prey for global wealthy viewers, he uses his stunt skills to layout a counter-kill plan, turning every hunter into the hunted and exposing the bloody evil behind the apocalypse game.

A torrential downpour of strong acid flooded the city, and mutated sea monsters slaughtered buildings. When Chloe, along with burly men from the rugby team, wielding fire axes, frantically smashed down the door, attempting to burn me alive and steal my bottled water, I had already welded the security door firmly into the load-bearing wall.
Faced with the pried-open door, I didn't waste any words and directly used a 20,000-volt electric spear to pierce the strong man's thigh! Then, I coldly pushed the blood-soaked floor outside.
The pungent smell of blood instantly attracted the skeletal behemoths from the water, turning the corridor into a horrific slaughterhouse. I listened coldly to their desperate screams in front of the monitor.
In this desolate wasteland, you think you can survive by stepping on me? Then feed the monsters with your flesh and blood !

I spent three years as a "useless son-in-law," humiliated in public by my wife, all to repay a debt of life-saving gratitude.
That night, she handed me a cup of poisoned wine, smiling as she told me to "disappear from this world."
But she didn't know that the wine served to terminate our contract of protection—and unchained my shackles completely.
When the fighter jets of the Northern Command cast their shadows over the entire estate, she finally knelt in the mud, crying out for "Adrian."
But this time, I will not look back.

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.

My daughter has been blind since birth. On her eighteenth birthday, she finally received news of a matching cornea donor.
Our whole family was so excited we couldn't sleep that night. My husband and daughter eagerly prepared for the surgery, their hearts filled with hope that she would soon see the light.
But I suddenly slammed my hand on the table and, amidst the family's stunned gazes, proposed a divorce on the spot.
My husband's face turned ashen as he demanded harshly, "You want a divorce just because I'm going through with our daughter's surgery?"
I curled the corner of my mouth and enunciated every word: "That's right. Because you're going through with her surgery—this marriage is over."

After being reborn,
I immediately rushed to my adoptive mother who was conducting an experiment,
bit a piece of flesh off her,
and then turned to my younger sister standing beside her,
splashing her face with foul-smelling dog urine.
After being restrained,
I listened to them screaming that I had gone mad with rabies.
I pretended to be insane on the surface,
just to be smoothly sent to a rehabilitation center.
In my previous life, just as my experiment was about to succeed,
the laboratory exploded.
My adoptive mother and younger sister shifted all the blame onto me,
causing me to be killed by enraged family members.
This time,
with no one to take the fall for them,
I'll see how they manage to get away with it.

Rule number one: Never fall for the Hockey Alpha.

That was the plan.

Ninety days.
One fake relationship.
No feelings.

I’m a fallen Crescent Moon princess turned scholarship boxer, fighting to save my sick brother while uncovering the truth behind my father’s disappearance.

Luca Silver is the hockey captain, the future Alpha, and the heir to the family I’ve spent years blaming for my downfall.

When a scandal threatens his reputation, he needs a fake girlfriend. I need money and answers.

So we make a deal.

No real kisses.
No emotions.
No falling in love.

Except Luca isn’t just my fake boyfriend.

He’s my roommate.
My enemy.
And my fated mate.

When our bond awakens, the lines between hate and desire begin to blur. But as dark secrets from the past resurface and rival packs close in, I discover my father’s disappearance was never an accident.

The Silver family may not be my enemy.

And falling for my enemy might be the choice that starts a war.

Last life, my girlfriend was trapped in a fire. I ran in, took the burns, and dragged her out alive.
When she woke up, she pointed at me first: “He’s the arsonist.”

Only later did I learn the truth—she’d been sleeping with her boss. They set the fire for an insurance payout and pinned everything on me.
Police investigations, the company cutting ties, the media turning me into a monster—I couldn’t prove a thing. I died in the rain, discarded like trash.

This time, I didn’t expose them. I didn’t call the cops.
On the night of the fire, I left early—then staged a robbery and walked myself into a police station, building the cleanest alibi possible.

They lit the match on schedule, trapped themselves, and waited for me to charge in.
As the flames grew and I never showed, she called—furious—demanding I come now.

I glanced at the officer taking my statement and said into the phone, calmly:
“Sorry. I can’t leave right now.”

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.

Seventy-two hours before my wedding, I stood in front of the fitting mirror at a bridal shop.

My best friend sent me a social media post, and the red exclamation mark in the message box stung my eyes sharply.

The post’s title read: Guys, my boyfriend is getting married to his current partner. What should I do?

The comment section had already erupted into chaos.
“Dude, are you out of your mind? You’re the other woman here!”
“You’re the homewrecker and you dare post this to get roasted? Where’s your shame?”

The poster was firing back furiously, every word oozing unapologetic madness:
“We’ve been inseparable since we were kids! His first love, first kiss, first time—all mine!”
“He doesn’t even like that old hag; he’s only marrying her out of obligation!”
“Who’s the real mistress, anyway?”

I should have swiped past it like a silly joke, but my gaze was locked onto the poster’s profile picture.

It showed two hands laced together. Peeking out from the man’s wrist was a dark green watch dial—a Richard Mille Valentine’s Day limited edition. It was the seven-figure engagement gift I’d bought him by selling my mother’s last precious heirloom, the only one of its kind in the world.

My heart was squeezed tight by an icy hand, plummeting to the bottom in an instant.

I tapped into the account’s homepage. The second my finger swiped open the photo album, a dizzying, world-spinning sensation crashed over me.

In the photos, the man holding the girl closely was none other than Lu Yanchen—my fiancé, who was supposed to marry me in three days.

I stared at the screen. All the wedding hopes and love I’d saved up over three years shattered into nothing but dust at this moment.

I couldn’t believe it, yet I had to. The man who’d loved me for three years and sworn to protect me forever had been lying to me from start to finish.

At the Jones family’s political marriage gala, the New York mafia’s most public “celebration”, I, Isabella Rossi, who was a bargaining chip, had been Donovan Jones’s wife for five years.
He was the world’s top perfumer, the kind of man who could coax a scent from his fingertips that made people go mad-and yet, to him, I was a flower with no fragrance at all.
Five years of this marriage, and he had never touched me. The villa’s master bedroom was always his alone, while I was nothing but the “Mrs. Jones” in name-a decorative prop trapped in a luxury cage, so insignificant that even the servants dared to look down on me in secret.
When both sets of parents pressured us for a baby, he wrapped an arm around a famous model and sneered,
“A woman raised off a template like you is only good for taking care of a kid, not for sleeping with.”
He left me behind in the bridal suite-with his younger brother.
Then he took his new fling out street-racing.
That same night, a video of him and the model hooking up in a car shot straight to the top of the entertainment headlines.
And I became New York media’s favorite punchline: the “DISCARDED TROPHY WIFE.”
Just when everyone thought I’d spend the night alone, guarding an empty bed,
I crooked a finger at that eight-pack, absurdly good-looking brother-in-law of mine.
Donovan, you’re right-I am pretty suited to “taking care of a kid.”
Just not a baby. A 6'2", baby-faced college boy.

When I was seven weeks pregnant, my husband, Jacob, seated his mistress and their secret son at the head table of our anniversary dinner.
In front of everyone, he said, "Ella hasn't given me a child in four years. Why should I keep waiting?" His mistress was already tired of waiting to take my place.
So I gave them what they wanted. I faked my death in the car crash his mistress had planned and walked away.
Then why was Jacob searching the crash site like a madman? When he pulled my waterlogged prenatal report from the sunken car, he dropped to his knees by the river and sobbed for me to come back.

In her previous life, Clara Bennett was switched at birth and ended up in the hands of a greedy adoptive family. Betrayed and used, she met a tragic end.

Given a second chance, Clara chooses to walk away from the Bennett family and returns to her poor but loving biological parents, the Howards. Everyone thinks she'll regret giving up her life as a wealthy heiress.

But no one expected the truth—Clara is actually the CEO of a powerful corporation. Not only does she lift the Howards out of poverty, she also marries the heir of a billionaire family.

This time, she's not just surviving. She's reclaiming her life and rewriting her destiny.

"You're pathetic." Sophia's manicured nails dug into my shoulder. "A wolfless freak who thinks she can fight back?"

The storage room door slammed shut. The lock clicked.

My inhaler was in my locker. My lungs seized. Darkness crept in.

"Help..." I wheezed. "Please..."

But they were already walking away, laughing.

Lynette, the most feared Alpha in the Canadian territories who ruled through blood and ice, dies in an ambush—only to wake up as Elara Grey, a seventeen-year-old wolfless Omega who just suffocated to death from bullying.

The original Elara's life was pure torment. Humiliated by golden boy Blythe Harrison and his girlfriend Sophia Reign, then left to die gasping in a locked room. But that's not the worst part her family faces:

"Your adorable little family," the scarred mercenary held up their photo. "The black market's offering a million for you, Lynette. But them? They're just a bonus. I'll make sure they suffer as well."

Now Lynette's lethal instincts awaken in this fragile, asthmatic body.

She'll protect this family and destroy everyone who dared to hurt them—one brutal lesson at a time.

DISCLAIMER BEFORE YOU ENTER

Alpha Daddies who kneels to eat their slutty step daughter’s psy dwell here.

Furious stepmothers with feral wolves are rampant. Be careful! Your c*** are not safe from gagging and even pu*** lips beg to survive from them.

Bratty daughters are here too. Their job is to create seduce their parent’s pack enforcers or warriors who just came back from war. Lastly, unlimited sin, abomination, reverse harem, taboo and anything called LUST dwells here. Grab an extra pair of p***…or maybe a toy.

"Mark today's date, the 24th of November. On this day, I, Ivy Moore promise you that you will regret everything that happened today!"

Ivy Moore gave up everything for love—her freedom, her future, even her identity—only to be betrayed in the most brutal way. After her husband killed her son and divorced her because she is poor, Ivy becomes the richest woman in the country but kept her identity a secret so that she'll make her husband pay for all the pains she caused her!

My name is Arabella. I sold 20 years of my life to become a vampire’s attendant after my father’s death in order to help my family. I should have been scared of blood and fangs, but instead, I long for my master's touches.

What I didn't know was that my desire for him would bring me nothing but destruction.


“You taste delicious.” He licks his lips, pulling me closer to him.
The warmth of his skin against mine, and the soothing rhythm of his beating heart calms me a bit. I relax my shoulders and lie there with my head on his chest.
“Ara, I'm your master and it’s my responsibility to keep you safe, but I failed today.”
His words sound sincere, and I really wish I could believe him.
But all vampires are monsters.
He just happens to be the monster I wish I could trust.

My Vampire Master: A Contract of Blood and Lust is created by Angeline Hartwood, an eGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

When Alexander Carter, the ruthless and irresistibly charming CEO of one of the country’s largest corporations, walked into my office, I thought he was there to terminate my contract. After all, I had just lost everything in a project sabotaged by his company. But instead, he made me an offer that would change my life: marry him for one year.

Sounds crazy? Maybe. But with my younger sister depending on me and the bills piling up, refusing wasn’t an option. In return, he offered enough money to rebuild my career and a contract to lead a project I had always dreamed of.

There was just one rule: don’t fall in love.

Simple, right? Or so I thought. Until I realized that behind his cold demeanor and flawless suits was a man full of secrets. A man who started to unravel me with every touch, every whispered word, every lingering glance.

Now, as I fight to keep up the façade of the perfect wife and uncover the conspiracies within his world, one question remains: when all this ends, will I be able to walk away unscathed?

Five years ago, Emma Holloway made the cruelest choice of her life—breaking the heart of the only man who ever truly loved her. She let him walk away without knowing the truth. Now? She’s broke, desperate, and hiding behind a fake name just to land a job.

Only it’s not just any job. It’s at Harrington Enterprises.

And her new boss?
Cole Harrington. The man she pushed away. The man who built an empire… and never forgot the woman who betrayed him.

Cole is colder now. Powerful, unreadable, and engaged to someone else. But when he sees her again—“Emily Grace,” as she now calls herself—he plays along. Smiling in public. Testing her in private. Pushing boundaries she’s too vulnerable to defend.

She needs the paycheck. He wants answers.
But neither of them are prepared for what happens when secrets start unraveling, and emotions long buried come roaring back.

Because Cole isn’t just back for business.

He’s back for closure.
Or revenge.
And maybe... her heart.

Because of Zara’s excessive drunkenness, she accidentally had a One Night Stand with the man she had always been dreaming about – Lucas Blackwood. Unfortunately, Lucas despised Zara for spreading her legs and then he threatened her after ruining his relationship with a long-time fiancée.
Things became more complicated when Zara became pregnant and Lucas was obliged to marry her. After the marriage, Lucas made sure to punish Zara for ruining his life.
It’s a loveless marriage but as soon as Zara asked for a divorce, Lucas realized that the woman has earned a place in his heart. He became possessive to his soon-to-be ex-wife, and their loveless marriage turned into a beautiful love story.

When the zombie apocalypse hit, my elder brother shoved me into a horde of the undead. Now, I've been reborn exactly five days before the end of the world, and he's trying to scam me out of my winning lottery ticket with a beat-up old ring. What he doesn't know is that this ring is a genuine pocket dimension artifact. He thinks he's pulling the ultimate con, completely unaware that I'm going to use this very relic to forge my own post-apocalyptic empire. This time, I'm going to make them pay back every last thing they owe me.

I was cruising leisurely down a desert highway when three Harley motorcycles pulled up behind me, claiming one of their crew was injured.

I pulled over to help — and they stole my truck.

I called the police — and the cops arrested me as an accomplice.

irectly in front of me.
Only the night before, she’d been curled up in my arms, her warm fingertips brushing my collarbone, our bodies tangled in tender, loving intimacy.
Yet the toe tag fastened around her ankle was etched with cold, unflinching words: Su Wan, Female, 22. Cause of death: fatal fall from height. Time in morgue custody: 365 days.
She had been dead for an entire year.
Just what in the hell was the woman who’d gasped beneath me night after night, who’d lived beside me day in and day out for six whole months—the woman I’d called my girlfriend?

With only three days left until the apocalyptic fungal outbreak, my ordinarily strict father unexpectedly took out a million-dollar loan from a loan shark, transferred it to my account, and issued an absolute order: "Buy supplies, build a fortress, and even if you die, do not open that door!"

Staring at the seven-figure balance, I grabbed a liquor bottle, shattered the nose of the school bully who used to torment me, and instantly kicked off a frantic hoarding spree. I bought out a penthouse on the 50th floor, welded on a bank-vault-grade blast door, and stockpiled an endless supply of Tomahawk steaks and a massive arsenal of weapons.

When the disaster finally struck, the once-arrogant rich kids downstairs were reduced to bloody fodder for the monsters. The starving school bully knelt outside my door, tearing into his own companions just for a leftover bone. Meanwhile, separated by bulletproof glass, I sipped an ice-cold cola and coldly enjoyed the show.

Just as a massive horde of the infected surrounded the building, my parents unexpectedly arrived in a Unimog heavy armored vehicle armed to the teeth, crushing through the sea of corpses in a dominant rescue. With our family reunited and packing heavy firepower, we violently tore open our own path of rampage across this scorched wasteland!

"Riccardo, please! I beg you!"
My water broke ten minutes ago. Warm liquid streamed down my legs and slowly froze into ice on the ground beneath me.
He stood on the other side of the bulletproof glass. In his eyes, there was not a trace left of the man I had once loved with all my heart.
In the Bellanona Mafia family, bloodline surpasses everything, and the hierarchy of age is an unyielding iron rule: the firstborn son shall inherit the entire underworld empire.
My sister-in-law Sofia and I were both pregnant, our due dates merely one day apart.
To make sure his elder brother’s child seized the succession right first, my husband coldly chose to sacrifice our own flesh and blood.
"My brother’s child must be born first." Riccardo’s voice came over the intercom, colder and more piercing than bitter winter wind. "This is what you owe them."
He had not only locked me inside this icy cellar. Just moments ago, his men pinned me down ruthlessly and injected a dose of medicine into my vein, solely to forcefully halt my labor.
Writhing in agony, I hugged my heavily pregnant belly tightly with both arms.
I could distinctly feel the little life inside me, once kicking and struggling relentlessly, growing fainter and fainter.
I’m sorry, my baby… Mommy is so sorry for you.

When Trevor Sullivan had nothing, I gave up billions to follow him to Silicon Valley. Everyone said I was crazy in love with him, until his first love came back to the States right after he made it big.

Seven years of playing the perfect wife and mother, and then I hear him coaching our five-year-old daughter: "Ruby, you can't tell Mommy about my fake wedding with Amber. Not a word, okay?"

"But Daddy, Mommy's gonna be sad..."

"If you tell Mommy, Daddy won't love you anymore. Got it?"

My daughter trembles, nodding frantically.

I stand outside the door, my heart turning to ash.

For the woman he never got over, he doesn't just betray our marriage. He makes our five-year-old lie for him.

Everyone expects me to cry, to beg, to fall apart.

Instead, I dial the number I blocked seven years ago: "Dad, can the family jet still come get me?"

Trevor Sullivan has no idea. I was never some gold digger who needed him to survive. I was the one with everything who made myself small for his sake.

“Are you sure about this, Nancy? Marrying that powerful man means ending things with Tad.”
“I’m sure. But not yet. Don’t tell anyone. Especially not Celia.”
Celia — the girl I once begged my father to adopt, the one I defended and called sister — betrayed me.
The two men who used to treat me like their world — my boyfriend Tad and our family friend Leo — now orbit around her like moths to a flame.
I thought I saved her, but she only wanted to replace me.
When Celia fell, they blamed me. When she got shot, they blamed me again. When I was in a car crash, they said it was an excuse to avoid “taking care of Celia.”
And the mysterious man who brought me for treatment, named Eric, became the only warmth I felt back then.
But I am Don DeLuca’s daughter.
And no one treats me this way and walks away unscathed.
My boyfriend? He can go to hell.
My so-called friends? They can rot with him.
Because now, I’m far more curious about the powerful man I’m going to marry.

Lineah's a good niece and hardworking person. Since she was a child she knew, something is missing and her heart felt empty.

She shut herself from intimate relationship, she never had one but it will all change when she found out she's not blood related to his known aunt.

In her journey of searching her identity and real parents she found herself caught up in a steamy romance with the two brothers who promised to help her in exchange of hot nights.

Maria Celiza Carosca is a free girl, she's confident, pretty and popular. The only thing she's lacking is a bit of wisdom. She's not an excellent student, she's trying but still she failed. That's why her main goal is to pass with the help of Magnus James Morrison, the nerd of the campus, but to Celiza's disappointment he refuses. Celiza found a way to make him change his mind but will Magnus help her in exchange of him being her sex student?