2952 Book(s) Related to tame my ferocious ceo

I catch my husband in bed with the live-in housekeeper.

He shoves her behind him. "She's only twenty. Barely out on her own, doesn't know any better. Can't you be the bigger person here?"

His mother points a finger in my face. "You're an orphan. If we hadn't taken you in, you'd still be out on the street begging."

"Be smart about this. Make room for Kaylee, so we can all live under one roof in peace."

They've both forgotten that back then he couldn't even make rent, and I worked three jobs to build his company for him.

Forgotten the year his company was going under, when I ran to three different banks across the city in a downpour chasing investors, passed out in the street, and lost the baby.

Four whole years of them looking down on me after that.

I say I want a divorce.

Preston just laughs at me. "You're a housewife. Walk out that door and you'll starve on the sidewalk by tomorrow."

I drag my suitcase onto the overnight bus and go home to a place I haven't set foot in for ten years.

It's the middle of the night when I get there. The streets are empty. Three men reeking of liquor block my way.

That hand is about to touch my face when a Harley roars up and stops right beside me.

The muscled guy on it has a cigarette in his mouth. He looks me over. "Need a hand?"

I’m Wren, hidden sole heir of Ravenwood Pack, living as a regular lone wolf at wolf academy. My roommate Brielle steals my exclusive pine pheromone, copies my relics, steals my elite quota and tricks my betrothed Alpha Kane with a fake royal identity. I challenge her to present the unforgeable Lunar Pearl at the ball. When my father, the pack Alpha, exposes her family’s theft, I reject the misled Kane and reclaim everything the imposter stole from me.

For three years, I paid so my sister could rebuild her life — her rent, her lawyers, her hospital bills, the shop she now runs in my name. Lucas, my fiance, always told me it was the right thing to do. I believed him, because believing him was easier than admitting how tired I was. I flew home two days early to surprise him. Instead, I opened my own front door and found my sister in his lap, wearing my robe, laughing in a voice I'd paid to keep happy for years. Ninety-nine empty perfume bottles stood along the wall — quiet witnesses to nights I never knew existed. Lucas didn't apologize. He asked me to be more understanding. My sister cried and called me cruel. I stood in the apartment I bought, surrounded by the people I built a home for, and realized I had never once been the one who got to be loved first.

My husband, Roman, has a bad heart. Five years ago they cut his chest open, and after that I quit my job and stayed home to keep him alive.
That day I got to his office ten minutes early with his lunch.
Through the glass door I watched Brielle Nash, his assistant, pick up his pill box. Twenty-eight compartments. I fill it every Sunday night.
She flipped open Wednesday evening, tipped the pills into her palm, and dropped them in the trash.
"That's the one that makes you feel eighty."
Roman laughed. He didn't stop her.
Then she handed him the can she'd been drinking from, and he took a sip out of her hand.
"That's living," she said. "Don't tell the boss lady, though. She'd have me fired."
He reached over and ruffled her hair. "I'll lock it in my drawer."
My lunchbox was sitting by his elbow. He hadn't opened it.
Later I found the flask in that drawer. Supplement bottles. A keycard for a boxing gym.
And a key I hadn't seen in five years.
I didn't do anything.
I went home and opened the safe and went through fifteen years of marriage one thing at a time.
Then I started working out what would be mine when he died.

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.

I died on the night of my eighteenth graduation party, pushed off a rooftop by the two people I trusted most.

In my past life, I was the ultimate fool.

When my two childhood friends—both heirs to top elite families—decided to throw away their futures, I panicked.

They actually wanted to reject their admission offers from Harvard and Yale.

All to follow Lily, a charity case from the slums, to a literal no-name trade school called Sunny Valley Vocational Academy.

I begged them to stop.

I even used my family's connections to try and get Lily into a legitimate university.

But Lily wept in front of them, claiming my money insulted her dignity, and that I was just jealous of their "pure love."

Liam and Noah completely lost their minds.

That night, they cornered me on the roof.

"Vivian, you killed Lily. Go to hell!"

As it turned out, Lily went to that trash school alone and committed suicide.

They blamed me entirely for her death, nursing that grudge until they finally pushed me into the abyss.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the exact day we were supposed to lock in our college choices.

This time, count me out.

When my husband's eight-year-old "nephew" Noah was diagnosed with acute leukemia, the whole family begged for my help.

They needed my six-year-old daughter, Molly—the only perfect match.

Against my instincts as a head nurse, I agreed.

But the second Molly's stem cells were harvested, their gratitude vanished.

To avoid paying for my daughter’s mandatory sterile recovery room, Noah's mother live-streamed a crying fit in my lobby, accusing me of medical extortion. My husband, Grant, stood by in utter silence.

Without the isolation bed, my baby girl contracted a severe infection and died. My mother-in-law simply sneered outside the ICU, "Dead is dead. Better than wasting more money."

Three months later, Noah relapses.

Now, my phone is blowing up. The same people who watched my daughter suffocate in her own fluids are desperately begging me to use my hospital registry access to save him again.

Standing by Molly’s tiny headstone, I look down at the confidential DNA report I pulled from the hospital database.

They think I don’t know Noah is actually Grant's illegitimate son. They think I'll just hang up and cry.

Instead, I swipe to answer the call. It's time to make them pay.

To protect my older sister's piano championship, my own brother crushed all ten of my fingers.
To win my sister's favor, my fiancé hired someone to kick the baby out of me.
After surviving a fire that nearly killed me, I finally woke up.
And when I returned, I blasted the hard proof of their affair and their schemes all over the internet. As I watched them lose their minds, lose everything, and drop to their knees begging for mercy, I let out a cold laugh, turned around, and claimed the top of the world!

I had the gift of beast-speech, and beasts never lied to me.
When my sister, Valora, brought me a wild berry tart, a forest finch shrieked, "Poison!" In my past life, I believed it. I flipped the tray, cursed her, and was thrown into the dungeon like a madwoman. In this life, I did the opposite. I ate it. I vomited blood, and my spirit wolf died instantly.
When it was time to marry, a raven warned me that my Alpha fiancé was a "disfigured madman." In my past life, I broke the engagement and married a Beta, only to be tortured to death by him and his mistress. In this life, I insisted on marrying the Alpha. But on my wedding night, a blood-soaked, disfigured monster was waiting for me.
When my mother-in-law, Liora, coughed up blood in front of everyone, a nightingale cried, "Give her White Dittany for the poison!" In my past life, I force-fed her the herb, and she bled from her eyes and died. In this life, I stopped anyone from giving her the herb. But that night, she died anyway.
Listen to them, and I die. Ignore them, and I still die.
Then, I opened my eyes. I had been reborn, back to the exact moment everything went wrong...

On our wedding day, Declan sent me out to Long Island. We'd been together seven years.

He said he'd left his grandmother's lucky cufflinks at the family house.

But when my car died in the storm, I opened my bridesmaid's Instagram live.

Declan was sliding my custom diamond ring onto Phoebe's finger—my adopted sister, the one with the bad heart.

My own parents were crying in the front row. My bridesmaids were cheering.

They'd turned my wedding into a dying wish ceremony for Phoebe.

Hours later, alone in the ER, I called forty-seven times.

No one picked up.

Not until after I lost the baby and disappeared from Manhattan.

That's when Declan finally came apart.

In my last life, my mother-in-law locked me in the attic, and my wife openly cheated on me with the neighbor. Even when I was dying of terminal cancer, they bled me dry until my very last breath! Now that I've been reborn, the extreme-heat apocalypse is just around the corner. In this life, I'm living for myself. I spend every last cent of my savings stockpiling three years' worth of supplies and building a heat-proof survival villa! Now I can sit back and watch my mother-in-law's family struggle to survive in the deadly heat. Beg on their knees for my forgiveness? No! I will never forgive them!

All I wanted was a quiet place to live. I drained my savings and paid eighty thousand extra for the one unit on the row with a private backyard.
On my very first day, I found my neighbor's son beating my new hydrangeas with a stick while his mother stood there filming him and laughing.
Bianca says the yard belongs to everybody. Her husband is vice president of the HOA board, so around here, whatever he says is the law.
I showed them my deed. I called the police. I sent a certified letter. Every single time the answer came back the same. This is a civil matter, ma'am. Maybe try being a better neighbor.
Then her son put a rock through my living room window, and the HOA fined me two hundred and fifty dollars for putting a lock on my own gate.
Fine. They want that gate open? It stays open.
I just made one phone call. A truck is already on its way.

On my birthday, I was dragged up to the attic and assaulted by several men.
I called my parents, brother, and boyfriend for help, but they all thought I was seeking attention and ruining my sister Sophie's celebration.
"Mia, stop it. We're busy preparing for Sophie's party. If you want attention, find another way."
This was the hundredth time they'd let me down.
But there won't be a hundred and first.
Because I'm already dead.

I had been Lucan Ferretti's wife for five years. I had also been the woman who took a bullet meant for him.
Four years of fertility treatments. Four years of empty rooms where a nursery should have been. Then, the day I finally get a positive test, I find something else: two secret sons, funded by my husband's money, waiting in a house I was never supposed to find.
Their names? The ones Lucan and I picked out together, years ago, in a hospital parking lot.
That night, I sat alone with the positive test still in my hand, memorizing the names he'd already given to someone else's sons.
I could have confronted him. I could have screamed, thrown things, demanded a divorce.
Instead, I find a text message. His mistress has already ordered a hit — on me, timed for our anniversary, dressed up to look like enemy retaliation.
She wants me dead before I can tell anyone I'm carrying his child.
Fine.
She can have exactly what she asked for.

Two years ago, my best friend Maddie knelt in front of me, crying as she borrowed $50,000.
The very next day, she vanished off the face of the earth. No explanation, no apology, not even a single text message.
I was left carrying her toxic debt. I lost my fiancé, and I lost my ability to trust anyone.
Until one late night, a call came in from an unknown number originating in an abandoned mining district in West Virginia.
On the other end of the line, Maddie said she was getting married. She had the money ready—every last cent.
The wedding venue was a ruined church deep in the mountains, abandoned for a decade. The time: Friday, midnight.

My downstairs neighbor tagged me in the building group chat at ten p.m.
His wife just had a pup, he said. Pups need moonlight, he said. So starting tonight, my private moon terrace belongs to his family.
He'd even pay me rent. Ten dollars a month.
For the terrace of a three-million-dollar penthouse.
When I said no, he reminded me he wasn't just my neighbor. He's my supervisor at the Calloway Group, and my probation review sits in his hands. Hand over the door code, or I'd never survive at that company.
He kept saying it. I can crush you at the Calloway Group.
Funny.
My mother owns the Calloway Group.
I was going to let him dig his own grave quietly. Then his family broke into my home, walked up to the one thing on that terrace worth half a million dollars—
And smashed it.

A hormonal condition pushed my weight to two hundred pounds, and for three years, this boarding school made sure I never forgot it.

The ringleader was the guy every girl worshipped.

And beside him stood his girlfriend, the one who always stepped in at my worst moments with a soft voice and a sympathetic look, like she was doing me a favor.

Everyone called her an angel. Only I knew the truth: every time she "helped," things got worse.

One day, she handed me a candy in front of everyone. "Here. Something sweet always helps."

I didn't feel like I had a choice.

That night, a demon showed up at the foot of my bed.

"Congratulations. You ate the pact candy. I'll grant you three wishes — money, beauty, lifespan. You name it, I'll make it happen."

My whole body shook. Three years of humiliation, and finally there was a way out. Wealth, beauty, revenge. All I had to do was ask.

Then the demon's expression shifted, eyes full of cruel amusement.

"There's a catch, though. The real pact-holder is someone else. Whatever you wish for, the one who gave you that candy gets double."

The words I was about to say died in my throat.

Then, slowly, I smiled.

Double?

That's way more interesting than three wishes.

The day before spring break, Cole Bennett asks me, red in the face, if he can borrow my empty place up in the hills for one night.

I figure he's planning a birthday party for me, so I don't think twice about handing over the code to the estate.

I've already decided that night is when I'll tell him who I really am.

Eight o'clock on my birthday, I push open the brass doors of the estate, worth millions by themselves.

Music blasts through the great room. The place is packed with people from school, all of them craning their necks, gushing about how gorgeous the house is.

I hold back a grin, ready to go find him and see what he's got planned.

Then I see her in the middle of the crowd, everyone crowding around her, glasses raised.

Sloane Bishop.

Five years in hell, my beloved and best friend joined hands to push me into the abyss. The savior I trusted was actually a deadly fraud. Reborn from despair, Vito came through the light. I tore apart the scumbag and the evil woman, settled all debts, broke free from the shadow, stepped into the light, and lived the rest of my life only for myself.

My husband's mistress sent me a video to rub it in, claiming she had just beaten my "pathetic, begging mother" bloody and kicked her down the stairs.
I froze, glancing up at my actual mother sitting right across from me, quietly sipping her coffee.
Bewildered, I zoomed in on the video.
When I made out the scar on the wrist of the woman lying in the pool of blood, a cold sweat broke out over my body. I frantically called my husband.
But he interrupted my plea with extreme impatience: "Shut up! Roxy was right to teach her a lesson. She was just taking out the trash for me!"
Since he insisted on indulging his precious mistress's death wish...
I wonder if he'll still be able to say she was right to teach her a lesson when he sees his own grandmother's corpse.

My dad made me a smoothie every morning for six months. I thought it was love.
It was a muscle relaxant.
He'd been slipping just enough into my drink to make my fingers tremble at full draw — just enough to cost me first place at every major competition. Not enough to kill me. Just enough to let Laurel beat me.
Laurel. His mistress's daughter. The girl he bought custom diamond jewelry while giving me clearance-rack gear for my birthday. The girl he wanted to drop into my family, my home, and my spot on the podium.
I found the proof. Stopped drinking his smoothies. Clawed my way back to number one.
Then, two days before the National Youth Archery Trials — the one competition that decides everything — he picked up a steel rod and swung it at my right arm.
My drawing arm.
The bone cracked. Doctors said three months minimum. My coach couldn't look me in the eye. Every scout, every scholarship, every dream I'd bled for over three years — gone in one swing from the man who was supposed to protect me.
Trials start tomorrow morning. And I can't hold a bow.

One of my employees went online and dragged me, claiming I'm making them sacrifice their health for a paycheck and forcing everyone to work over Thanksgiving.

Here's what actually happened. My company gives nine days off for Thanksgiving. Volunteer to work overtime, get triple pay, with a $500 daily meal stipend and a $5,000 bonus. No one gets penalized for not working.

The whole internet's tearing into me for making employees sell their lives for cash. So I give her exactly what she wants and send out a company-wide notice:

To protect employee mental health, the building gets locked and the power gets cut over Thanksgiving. No one is allowed to work for any reason. Anyone who does gets fired.

The minute that email goes out, the employees who were counting on overtime to pay their mortgages lose it. Now they're all crowded outside the building, begging me to open the doors.

"Happy anniversary, darling. Look what I brought you." My husband's snow-white python once felt like proof of his love—until I remembered dying with it wrapped around my throat. In my past life, I doted on that "gift" for an entire year, never once suspecting its true nature, while my husband and daughter quietly counted down the days until I stopped breathing. Reborn on the very night he presents that same box again, I swear this time will be different.

To win back his one true love, my husband sent me, pregnant and vulnerable, straight into the clutches of a rival mob's dungeon.
I was torn apart by vicious dogs, a brutal end for both me and my unborn child.
After death, my spirit drifted back home, only to hear him coldly chuckle, "Let her learn her lesson; she won't come back until she admits she was wrong."
It wasn't until a mangled, rotting body was dumped at his feet, and he saw the blood-soaked wedding ring on its finger, that this heartless mob boss finally snapped...

"Forty dollars. That's all the inhaler I needed to breathe cost. But in our house, nothing comes easy. 'Fairness first. Roll the dice — highest number wins.' I've rolled my whole life. I've never won. Not once. Tonight, lungs burning, vision blurring, I rolled for my medicine money against my sister. She got a six. I got a two. 'You lost, Hazel. Now go to the attic and think about your selfishness.' The door locked behind me. My chest is closing up. And no one is coming to check."

"Are you always this damn sensitive?" my husband snapped, his hands lingering on his ex’s waist.
I stood there, holding our 5th-anniversary cake and my pregnancy secret. He canceled our romantic dinner just to comfort her.
So, I threw the cake away. Next, I'll throw him away.

Married to the head of the Valenti family for five years. Kidnapped on our anniversary. Pregnant a month later.
Five paternity tests said the baby wasn't his. My husband got a vasectomy and swore he'd raise the child as his own.
I believed him.
Then came the therapy. The drugs. Nightmares where I was pinned down by multiple men, so real I could feel their hands hours after waking. I scrubbed my skin raw. Tried to end it six times.
He saved me every time. Held my hand. Told me no one would ever hurt me again.
Until the night I heard him laughing about it in his study.
The kidnapping was staged. The nightmares were chemicals. The DNA reports were forged. All of it — designed by my own husband to protect another woman.
Now I have a recording, a divorce agreement, and a very small box of ashes.
He's marrying her next week. I'll make sure he gets my wedding gift on time.

For nine years, I lived as my twin sister’s replacement Luna. I raised her pup as if she were my own. I treated that man as my fated mate. What I got in return was the Pack that unanimously decided I was the monster who “killed Edna”, and the sinner Ann swore should go to hell.
At Ann’s birthday banquet, I accidentally knocked over a framed photo. Ann shoved me in front of a room full of Alphas and elders, drenching me in red wine, smiling as she said I wasn’t worthy of touching anything of the House.
I thought that if I endured nine years, I could finally leave. Then Eric suddenly changed his mind.
Ann stuffed the corpse of the little bird I’d been raising into a gift box and threatened me with a sweet smile. “You’re the next.”
When I dragged my suitcase to the door, she shifted to wolf in front of everyone, slammed me to the ground, her fangs pressed against my throat.
What they didn’t expect was that my real backer had returned, the Alpha of the Blood Moon Pack, my biological father, David.

Five years, I bled for Dario. Took a bullet for him. Cleaned up his dirtiest books. Drank myself into the ER just to keep his bosses sweet.
Then he slid divorce papers across the table and told me to sign. His mistress was pregnant; the family needed a "proper" heir, and I was in the way. So I signed—and let him strip me of everything I'd built.
Three hours later, a rival crew ran his car off the bridge. He survived. But he will never father a child again.
Now he's pouring a fortune he can't spare into his mistress's baby, showing off his "heir" to every boss in New York. He thinks his bloodline is finally safe.
He has no idea whose child he's really raising. And I'm the only one who does.

I was once the supreme ruler of the global underworld, stepping down from my throne just to cook hot meals for my daughter. Yet, my arrogant brother-in-law mistook my silence for weakness. He smashed my home, tried to hand my wife over to a Mafia Don for his own career, and even stole my Black-Gold Skull Coin as a tribute!
Fine. You want to play? I'll grant your wish.
With a single keystroke, I initiated the DEFCON-1 combat protocol. Instantly, one hundred thousand of the world’s most elite mercenaries went berserk, locking down the entirety of New York City!

In their eyes, my wife Emma—an Ivy League tenured professor in biological sciences—is ruthless, rational, and obsessively clean.
For seven years, even when she washed her hands, she would only ever touch the right-side sink—hers.
Until that night at 3 a.m., when I pulled a strand of sandy-golden short curl—hair that belonged to neither of us—out of my men’s shower loofah.
And around the neck of a pre-med student named Lucas, I saw the antique silver cross my dying father left in my hands.
When I confronted her, my always-icy wife protected the little homewrecker, slapped me across the face, and called me a jealous, controlling chauvinist.
She thought I’d swallow it like a coward.
But she forgot: as a top cardiothoracic chief, the thing I do best is cutting out tumors.

He wandered the world like a lost soul, wanting to die but unable to.
He killed the only girl who had sincerely accepted him, loneliness was his punishment.
He drifted aimlessly, gradually forgetting the taste of food, beginning to savor the beauty of drinking blood,
No longer caring about the disdainful and fearful looks from people, no longer caring about anything at all,
But no matter how hard he tried to forget,
The regret from years ago could never be shaken off, following him like a shadow,
Just when he thought he might go mad from extreme loneliness,
He met a girl,
Her eyes resembled those of the girl in his deep memories,
When she boldly stabbed a silver sword into his chest while on the bed,
He didn't know whether he would fall into hell, or into a river of love...

I'm Sophia. After three years of marriage, my husband abandoned me for his first love, leaving me in danger and at the mercy of a stranger.
Desperate and pregnant, he accused me of cheating and even tried to harm our unborn child.
Five years later, I return with twins. With tears in his eyes, he demands, “Whose children are they? Who did you cheat on me with?”

On our third anniversary, I planned to announce my pregnancy, only to find my husband expecting a child with another woman
"It’s just for an heir," he pleaded, trying to trap me in our marriage.
Heartbroken, I hid my secret, served him divorce papers, and vanished.
When I returned to the spotlight, I wasn't alone. Beside me stood the city’s most mysterious and powerful tycoon.
My ex, crazed with jealousy, pinned me against the wall. "You are mine! Come home!"
But the tycoon pulled me into his arms, his gaze icy. "Back off. She belongs to me now."
In this three-way battle for my heart, who will be the ultimate winner?

I'm Sophie White, an orphan who was arranged to marry Bay City's most powerful devil—the ruthless, dangerous, and devastatingly handsome Adam Foster.

"Adam, please..." I whimpered as his touch set my body aflame. From the bathroom to his massive bed, he claimed me relentlessly until dawn, leaving me breathless and burning with desire.

But beneath our passionate nights lurked a terrifying reality. My fairy tale marriage became a nightmare of obsession and control. He monitored my every move, threatened my unborn child, and kept me prisoner in his golden cage.

Everything changed the night he led me to his secret basement—a chamber of horrors where his own father had tortured him for five years. As I stared at the chains and shadows of his past, I finally glimpsed the broken soul behind those cold eyes.

Was this vulnerability real? Or was I falling deeper into the trap of Bay City's most dangerous predator?

Just when I thought I knew all his secrets, I discovered something that would shatter both our worlds forever...

He was too busy to give attention to his female admirers who had a crush on him. Now, he begging to be loved.

I pretended still belonged to him.
Until I took back everything that was mine.

I believed I’d married for love. For three years, I happily gave up my career to be the perfect wife and mother.

Then my doctor told me the truth: I was dependent on sedatives—drugs I never took myself.

The only explanation? The warm glass of milk my husband handed me every night.

As I dug deeper, the truth unraveled: his affair with my sister-in-law, the secret transfer of company assets, even my own sister’s strange betrayal.

He didn’t just break my heart—he stole my future.

Now, for my daughter’s sake… and for the years I lost…

I’ll make sure he has nothing left to lose.

He put his wife behind bars to avenge his first love.

For three years, she suffered. Her baby was torn from her arms; her proud family was wiped out; her grandfather’s body was tossed away like worthless garbage.

Yet the real monster was sleeping in his bed—a hypocrite who starved his infant son in a pitch-black, rat-infested basement.

When the truth was buried beneath her scars, she pointed a gun at his chest, tears fading into ice.

"In my next life, I will never love you again."

Then, she stepped off the cliff. He screamed, clutching at the empty air as she vanished.

She died a broken victim.

But she was reborn as his executioner—and this time, mercy was off the table.

Due to an arranged marriage between our families, I married Damien Blackwood, heir to a business empire.

During five years of marriage, I tried hard to play the perfect wife, bore him a daughter Lily, thinking I had finally won his love.

Until his first love Serena returned from abroad, I watched him rekindle his passion for another woman, watched them rekindle their old flame.

A car accident changed everything.

I was taken to court, sentenced to three years in prison, becoming a "murderer" despised by everyone.

And he personally sent me to prison.

On the day of her grand engagement, she was betrayed by her fiancé and stepsister and died in a cruel setup. But fate gave her a second chance.

Reborn as a sharp, fearless woman, the once naïve heiress is back for revenge. Those who hurt her will pay—one by one.

Armed with financial brilliance and a ruthless heart, she rises to the top of the business world. But she catches the attention of a powerful CEO who is even more dangerous—cold, calculating, and determined to make her his wife.

Two masterminds collide in a fiery romance filled with schemes, passion, and payback. In this game of love and power, only they are worthy opponents—and perfect partners.

Strictly professional. Totally invisible. That was Jane's life... until one wild night, two glasses of wine, and the worst mix-up of her career.

For two years, Jane Pascual kept her head down, her gray suits buttoned tight, and her personal life strictly off the clock.In a company where previous secretaries were fired for blinking too flirtatiously at ruthless CEO William Reynold, Jane’s icy, boring persona made her untouchable.

Until one mistake shattered everything.

When William opens a misplaced birthday gift the next morning, he doesn't find a file. He finds a pair of red lacy panties and a steamy, signed confession meant for someone else entirely. Suddenly, the cold boss is intensely fascinated by his boring secretary, and determined to uncover every secret she’s hiding.

But Jane's biggest secret isn't her hidden passion. It's a five-year-old son from a single, anonymous night… a night William remembers only by a tiny apple tattoo. As misunderstandings pile up, will William discover that the one secret she's guarding with her life is his?

On the night of her wedding, Evelyn Knight paid the ultimate price for trusting the wrong man—her husband murdered her with his own hands.
But fate grants her a second chance.
Reborn on the very day she's meant to marry Nathaniel Andrews, Evelyn wastes no time. This time, she won't be the victim. She escapes the altar and makes a bold move—straight into the arms of her husband's sworn rival.
"Mr. Everett, will you marry me?"
"This a surrender?"
"No," she smirks. "This is a tactical retreat followed by a counterattack."
What begins as a calculated alliance quickly spirals into something far more dangerous—obsession, protection, desire. Julian Everett never expected to fall for the woman who barged into his life like a storm. But now that he has her, he won't let her go.
This time, Evelyn isn't just rewriting her fate—She's taking her revenge one kiss at a time.

"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.

Katia was the pack's shadow. Overlooked, neglected, and crushed beneath her elder sister's prophecy-blessed glory. Wrongfully accused of pushing her sister off a cliff, she became the pack's most hated sinner.
Tormented by her cruel father and bullied by her own brother, she endured endless beatings and humiliation. She decided to flee from the hellish territory, desperate to grasp a slim chance of freedom.
Her escape ended in failure. She was dragged back cruelly, demoted to an omega, disowned by her family, and trapped in endless suffering. To make matters worse, she was bound to Alpha Xandar. He rejected her as his fated mate, and the agony of rejection caused her to lose her wolf.
Trapped in endless darkness and brutal oppression, she fell into complete despair, waiting to be sent to the Mad King's brutal fighting pits to end her miserable life.
Yet fate wove an irreversible cruel destiny for her.
When the terrifying bloodthirsty Mad King Cahir arrived to attend the grand ceremony, the man who was once her sister's fiancé instantly sensed Katia as his fated mate.
Cold-blooded, domineering and possessive, King Cahir branded his mark on her neck in everyone, binding the broken omega to his side.
Between the ex-mate who abused her relentlessly and the tyrant king who loves her madly, Katia is stuck in a dangerous emotional vortex.
Old grievances, pack conflicts, border disputes and the hidden truth behind her sister's fall gradually surface.
Power once lost begins to revive quietly inside her, and hidden secrets buried by the whole pack are about to see the light of day.
Rejected. Wronged. Abused. Favored by a tyrant king.
Can Katia break away from the fate arranged by others and avenge her grievances?
Most importantly, can she walk out of the shadow of pain, stand firmly beside the Mad King, and rewrite the destiny belonging only to herself?

Louis and Olivia were lovers for years. He proposed marriage to her, and she accepted and gave her virginity to him. When he discovered that she was pregnant, he became distraught and ended the relationship.
Afterward, Louis regretted and Olivia met someone better - Denise, Louis's brother.. Denise and Olivia fell in love and got married after a month. She conceived immediately and when she delivered a set of twins. Then, Louis came up to claim the children.
Arthur, Louis' father and Denise's uncle, a widower of thirteen years fell in love with Nichole, Denise's mother, and a widow. Their marriage strengthened the bond between the two families, but it brought a lot of hatred from the members of Bailey's family, who had eyes on Nichole and wished to marry her. This led to a secret plan to eliminate him and have Nichole by his cousin, Mr. Stephen Bailey.
Louis refused to love again. He opted for surgery for memory erasure, which failed. Cassandra, who loved him unconditionally, accepted to marry him but conceived through IVF because he would not sleep with her. She named the child Olivia to make him happy, but he was not. When she got tired of the unbalanced relationship, she opted for a divorce. Would Louis' life be empty because of one wrong step?

"And now, he's certain your life is over because he kicked you out. They're probably already placing bets on how long it will take for you to bow and beg at their feet to take you back. But..." He said coldly.

"But..." I breathed.

"Imagine suddenly returning with a husband so wealthy he makes them look like paupers. Not only is he filthy rich, but he's hopelessly in love with you, spoiling you rotten. Imagine their shock, their anger, and your satisfaction that you have exceeded their expectations. Won't that be fulfilling?"

"And... who would that husband be?" I whispered.

"Me." He grinned as he caressed my cheek. "Let's get married, my dear Iris."

••~•

After being humiliated and disowned on her wedding day, Iris is suddenly approached by Gordon Graff, the enigmatic and highly controversial billionaire and also her ex's uncle, who asks for her hand in marriage.

His goal: make her family and ex pay for everything they've done to her.

But what happens when the line between pretence and true love begins to blur, and dangerous secrets begin to unfold?

Will the man who has promised to protect her be her doom? And will she be a casualty in his dangerous game of revenge?

After three years of a secret marriage, my husband refused to pay for a life-saving surgery—
yet spent a fortune on another woman.

I filed for divorce.

He thought I would come back, broken and begging.

Instead, I picked up my scalpel again.

While my ex-husband looked down on me, I saved countless lives.

When my breakthrough medicine won an international award,
and the world’s richest man proposed to me,
my ex-husband finally lost his mind—
showing up at my proposal ceremony too late to stop anything.

“You can stand there and deny it all you want,” he said huskily in my ear. “But I know how drenched you were that night. Your tight little p*ssy? It was calling my name, baby.”

“You’re insane! I never wanted you!” I gritted out, hating how weak I sounded. Hating how my arms suddenly didn’t have the strength to push him away.

How there was a part of me that truly wanted him, despite everything.

“Keep denying it,” he murmured, eyes darkening. “It just makes me more eager to bend you over my desk and f*ck that attitude right out of you.”


When executive assistant Alice Rhodes sent her arrogant and insufferable boss, Theodore Linden-Hawthorne, a sext during the company’s New Year’s party, her life turned completely upside down.

She lost everything: her fiancé, her family, and her best friend, all because of one embarrassing mistake. To make matters worse, Theodore seemed incapable of staying away from her, and Alice was horrified to realize that the feeling was slowly starting to become mutual.

But this attraction between them came at a price. Alice and Theodore came from two completely different worlds. Their attraction was forbidden and frowned upon by everyone around them. Would their love survive vengeful exes, juicy scandals, hidden secrets, and unexpected surprises?