3176 Book(s) Related to my second chance mate

“Do you know how sexy you look right now?” His deep voice made my core tingle as his fingers glided between my folds.

He was hot and I was slimy and wet. “Oh, gosh!” I threw my head back in pleasure as he increased his pace.

His magical fingers made me fidget shamelessly, “Please—” aching for a release.

“Do you want to cum for me, Pookie?” A dark smirk glinted at the corner of his lips.

And I…

I just couldn't take it anymore.


They called her ugly and fat, she felt out of place. The only family she had mistreated not until she encountered the billionaire golden boy who is ready to go miles for her.

But not without a storm ahead.

The folder slid across the table toward Hannah's husband. Sign here. Family helps family.

What the Whitfields never once thought to wonder was that the quiet daughter-in-law they'd spent four years bleeding had almost three million dollars they couldn't see.

She'd hidden it for one reason: to keep the only good man in that family from being turned into their wallet.

Now they wanted his signature. His house. His name on their debt.

They had spent a lifetime underestimating the quiet one.

They were about to learn what that costs.

My little sister and I each bear a Heart-Seed Mark etched into our chests.
Inside each seed grow Heartbeat Petals—currency that can trade for anything under the boughs of The Heart-Root, the ancient devouring tree.
At eight years old, I plucked one petal to cure Mom’s terminal cancer.
At ten, I tore out another to mend my older brother’s shattered bones after his brutal fight.
At twenty-four, I sacrificed my third and final petal to wake my husband’s sister from a car-crash-induced vegetative state.
Now, two disasters struck at once: my father died in a horrific car wreck, and my husband’s mistress lost their unborn baby.
Both sides of my family flocked to The Heart-Root, all fixated on stealing my petals for their own wishes.
I tried to step aside and let my younger sister go first to make the trade, but Mom shoved me hard.
“Every bit of love we’ve poured into you these years, every petal came from us! You’d really hold out and refuse to save your own father? Ungrateful girl!” my mom snapped.
My husband’s mom cut in sharp as a knife: “A good wife knows her place. It’s your duty to bring that baby back for your husband. If only you’d given him a son yourself.”
They tied me tight to the tree trunk. I watched a girl standing nearby get torn apart by black, writhing vines when she had no petals left—her flesh dissolved straight into the tree’s roots to feed it.
But my Heart-Seed didn’t have a single petal left either...

I die a miserable death in the dungeon, drained of three hundred years of pure blood. I owe it all to Elena and my ridiculously biased clan.

In my previous life, I am the Chief Executioner of the Night Abyss clan. During our hunt for the Alpha Wolf, she drops her weapon and throws herself into Lucas's arms, playing the helpless victim.

I take the beast's attack head-on and suffer severe injuries. The other knights just shield her, turning around to accuse me of being petty and jealous.

Prince Marcus blatantly favors his illegitimate daughter, Elena. He snatches my magic core, constantly puts me down, and even rips the core out of my loyal wolf familiar, Fenrir. In the end, he drains my blood dry just to feed her.

Now that I am reborn, I return to the exact night we hunt the high-tier Alpha Wolf.

I came across a viral local post while scrolling through my phone.

LIVE: My fiancée is cheating on me. I’m in her house right now. Should I end her for good?

When I tapped into the post, what I read made the blood in my veins turn to ice in an instant.

I put a monitoring app on her phone. I’ve been listening for almost two weeks, and every single day she’s on the line with some random guy, flirting and talking dirty. She says yes to marrying me to my face, but she’s been cuckolding me behind my back. Tell me, bros—does this bitch deserve to die?

The comment section below had completely spiraled out of control. Hundreds of replies were all outright egging him on, not a single person telling him to stop. Every line oozed with the vicious glee of people who lived for drama and cared nothing for the consequences.

Hell yeah she does. You got cucked this hard, why keep her around?
Bro, stop all talk and no action. Go live, we’ll send you gifts. Rape her first, then kill her if you’ve got the balls.
You in Haicheng? Drop the address. Me and the boys will come over and help you out. My fists are itching for a fight anyway.
Pfft, and I thought you were tough. You’re already in her house and still dragging your feet? I bet you don’t even have the guts to kill a dog.

My fingers were shaking violently. Driven by a sick, twisting dread, I tapped into the poster’s profile—and with just one glance, every hair on my body stood on end.

This account belonged to Xiao Ming, the blind date my relatives had forced on me when I went home for the Lunar New Year.

His entire profile was filled with posts about me, spanning a full two weeks, starting the very day we’d met for that blind date.

He’d taken secret photos of me, paired with captions full of disgusting, delusional ramblings:

My fiancée went on a date with me today. She wore a white blouse with the neckline open so low, it’s obvious she was trying to seduce me.
She told me she works the front desk at a hotel. That’s her way of hinting I should take her to a room for the night. All women say one thing and mean another.
She says she has a boyfriend, but it’s just playing hard to get. She’s been dying to marry me this whole time.

But I’d said it loud and clear, right in front of the matchmaker, on the very day of that blind date: I’d been in a committed relationship with my boyfriend for three years.

That blind date was nothing more than a way to appease my family. I’d been polite but distant the entire time, and I hadn’t even accepted a single glass of water from him.

As for that nonsense about a hotel room? It was complete and utter garbage. I’d only casually mentioned that my job was working the front desk at a hotel, nothing more.

Just as a bone-deep chill washed over me, the post refreshed. A new line had been added to the main post, timestamped just three seconds earlier:

Truth is, I’m hiding in her house right now. She’s lying in bed scrolling through her phone, and she has no idea she’s already dead meat.

The very second that line finished loading, a clear, soft rustle of fabric came from the wardrobe right behind me.

At the Waldorf Astoria in Manhattan, my ex-husband threw champagne all over me, and my wife publicly called me a "gold digger."

I held the tray, silent, like a clown being punished.

Three years ago, I lived in anonymity with her in a basement, cooking and doing laundry for her, all because of the pure stubbornness in her eyes.

In return, she embraced her father's killer and trampled me into the mud.

The divorce agreement was signed quickly, and she got into a Porsche with her enemy.

I laughed.
The next day, a Maybach pulled up in front of the law firm, escorted by eight bodyguards. The sole heir to the oldest conglomerate on the East Coast had returned.

While she was watching the cheap TV in the supermarket, seeing me marry a European princess, she was kneeling in front of a cold shelf, being verbally abused by a homeless man over a moldy potato.

The invincible Dragon Lord Kane returns from the Northern Frontier, only to find his daughter caged and his pianist wife trapped in a luxury lounge. He chains her in pain, summons 10,000 elite soldiers to rush her performance, while hidden demon forces creep in to destroy his family.

My biggest regret? Trusting my husband with my mother's life.

The day the mudslide hit, I was on my knees. Begging him to send a helicopter.

He told me to wait. Twenty minutes. But when the helicopter came, it went for his adoptive sister Vivian instead.

I held my mother in the ruins. Her body was shutting down. I waited. Waited until she went cold in my arms.

When he finally showed up at the hospital, the first thing he said? Accused me of faking it. Said I just wanted attention.

In that moment, my heart died too.

Later, I found out Vivian wasn't even sick.

She said "I don't feel well"—that's all it took. And he left my mother and me to die.

Called me a lunatic. In front of everyone. All for her.

I was ready to leave. For good. Then someone shattered my mother's ashes.

I thought my husband was my salvation.
Until I overheard him in the wine cellar, laughing and joking with my "attackers" from that night.
The gang rape that destroyed me was a show he orchestrated himself.

He married me only for inheritance rights.
He humiliated me, branded me, took away my child, and made my life a living hell.
But he forgot one thing—
The ancient blood oath of the Corleone family states clearly:
If a husband betrays his marriage, everything he owns shall belong to his wife.

This time, I'm no longer the rabbit waiting to be slaughtered.
This time, I write the ending.

One month until the SAT.
Staring at my phone screen—at the pulsing number on "Oracle," the mandatory score prediction app that Elite Prep forced every student to install—I couldn't help but think it was all a joke.
In my previous life, every time I finished a practice test, this garbage system would automatically dock twenty points from my predicted score.
But skip class for a day? The number would mysteriously jump up twenty points.
Back then, I actually believed in this bullshit algorithm. I completely gave up for an entire month, watching that predicted score skyrocket all the way to 1550.
But when I finally logged into College Board to check my real results, I'd scored a pathetic 400.
And that brilliant 1550? It appeared on my stepsister Dahlia's score report instead.
Disgusted that I'd embarrassed the Wright family, my father Harold froze my credit card without a second thought and threw me out of the family estate, clearing the path for Dahlia to claim Grandpa's ten-million-dollar trust fund all for herself.
That night, homeless on the streets, I was cornered by some thugs in a filthy Brooklyn alley and beaten to death.
Lying in a pool of my own blood, fading fast, I heard Dahlia's voice.
"Your GPA's been crushing mine since we were kids. I thought you, the so-called 'Straight-A student,' were supposed to be so smart."
She stood over me, mocking. "Turns out you got played by a prediction app. Pathetic."
That's when it finally clicked. My Oracle prediction system had been completely rigged from the source code—by Dahlia.
I shot up in bed, gasping, my shirt soaked through with sweat. I'd actually gone back in time—one month before the test.
Right now, the Oracle widget glowed eerily on my phone's home screen, displaying a single number: 1350.

My sister and I both married the wrong men in our past lives. I was bound to an overbearing Lycan Duke, who saw me as nothing more than a vessel for his heir. I ultimately lost my life in childbirth. My sister wed a frivolous Fae Prince, hounded and tormented by his countless mistresses until she was driven to take her own life.
Reborn before our weddings, we bravely choose to swap our marriage contracts, determined to break free from our cruel fates. This time, we rewrite our stories and grasp the our happy lives .

I think I'm dead.

When I opened my eyes, I found myself standing in an abandoned amusement park, and my body was sitting on that slowly turning carousel.

I was only ten years old. I don't know how I died.

Detective Sarah, the blonde officer, promised to find the truth. So I followed her, watching her peel away layer after layer of lies—

In my diary, I wrote down all my fears and all my waiting.

On the phone, Mom sent that video of me laughing.

In the autopsy report, evidence of long-term abuse filled every page.

Mom had been saving money for three years, saying she'd take me away. That afternoon she picked me up from school and said, "We're really leaving this time."

Then what happened? Why did I die at the amusement park? Why was Mom's first reaction after my death not to call the police, but to—

I thought Mom came to save me.

Until I saw the text message she sent...

A past generations’ wrongful case makes Julian mistake innocent Sienna for his foe’s daughter. Exploiting her crush, he ruins her Cambridge dream on graduation night, destroying her family. For five years, Sienna works in a sleazy club to fund her sick mother’s care.
Their unexpected reunion leaves Julian torn between disgust and secret affection. When the truth surfaces, consumed by regret, he cancels his wedding and spends all his wealth to atone. Yet Sienna’s love is long gone. After settling her family with his money, she leaves forever.

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.

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!

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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...

"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.

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.

"You're not just any she-wolf, Ava," Lucas's voice softened, though it still held a wicked undertone. "The Moon Goddess doesn't make mistakes. She gave you to all three of us."
I stared at him, dread and curiosity twisting inside me.
Three mates?
Ava Wynter, the disgraced daughter of an Alpha, has lived as a servant in her own pack—rejected, abused, and branded wolfless after a lie destroyed her life. But on the night of her eighteenth birthday, everything changes. Her wolf awakens. So does a dangerous, undeniable bond—with all three Alpha triplet brothers of the powerful Moonclaw Pack.
Zack rejects her. Kane claims her. Lucas desires her.
But nothing is as simple as a mate bond. Secrets run deep in the blood moon prophecy, and Ava is no ordinary wolf. As her hidden powers emerge and dark forces rise, Ava must decide: will she run from her fate or rise to become the Luna who changes everything?

Five years of a marriage forced by family convenience end in the cruelest way possible: with a request for divorce on the same day they would celebrate their anniversary. Lilian, devastated by Ethan's rejection—the man she learned to love despite the circumstances—sees her life fall apart. In her darkest hour, when the pain seems unbearable, Lilian is saved by Daniel Spector, a longtime friend and silent confidant who has always loved her. At the hospital, news changes everything: Lilian is two months pregnant. But there is another woman, Joana Mercadante — rich, famous, and supposedly also expecting Ethan's child. With her heart broken and her soul on fire, Lilian decides to leave. She flees to France and, far from the eyes of the world, gives birth to her son and builds an empire. Five years later, she returns as a powerful woman, determined to face her demons... and she finds Ethan again. He never stopped looking for her, never forgot the love he destroyed with his own hands. Now he must fight not only for forgiveness, but for a second chance—with her and with the son he never knew. But will regret be enough to rebuild a love that was betrayed? Especially when Daniel, Ethan's new rival, is ready to build the life Lilian always dreamed of... and is already the father in her son's heart?

When I caught my boyfriend cheating with my stepsister, I was heartbroken and furious. After giving them both a well-deserved beating, I hit a bar and met a drop-dead gorgeous stranger.
Drunk and mesmerized by his looks, I ignored the red flags. His glowing eyes. That sweet, intoxicating scent only I could smell.
One scorching night later... he tried to pay me like some escort.
"You're the worst I've ever had," I lied with a sneer, throwing my own cash in his face before he did. "Practice more before charging."
Then I ran like hell. Behind me, his furious roar echoed.
But karma's a bitch. That stranger? My company's new CEO.
Oh, and he's a werewolf Alpha.
I planned to lay low and avoid him. Then two pink lines changed everything—I'm pregnant!
My Alpha Boss slammed down a marriage contract: "Sign it. Move in with me."
Before moving in, I taunted: "Your skills were worth $150, tops."
But right now, he growled against my ear: "How about this, my insatiable mate?"
Me, scrambling toward the edge of the bed: "Time out! I need... a few days off!"
He smirked, grabbing my ankle and dragging me back down the mattress: "Not happening. Not until you're 100% satisfied with my performance between the sheets."
From one-night disaster to Alpha's baby mama—never saw this coming. But my possessive Alpha boss is hell-bent on proving he's worth way more than $150 a night... and he's got a lifetime to do it.

He left her on the streets. His brother-in-law picked her up… and made her his wife.
On the day her ex, Mark, married the wealthy socialite Bella, Elena was thrown out with nothing but the clothes on her back—humiliated, broken, and utterly alone.
Until Eric Thompson appeared.
Bella’s older brother. Mark’s powerful brother-in-law. And the most feared Alpha in the city.
He offered her a hand when no one else would. Then, he offered her a deal:
A marriage in name only. A shield against her past. A chance to rebuild.
Elena accepted, expecting a cold arrangement between strangers. But behind closed doors, Eric’s carefully guarded control unraveled—and so did hers. Their chemistry was explosive, their nights intense, and the lines between business and pleasure blurred beyond recognition.
He was the one man she could never have… and the only one she couldn’t resist.
But when Mark realizes what he truly lost, and Bella discovers the secret behind her brother’s bride, Elena must decide:
Is this just a contract?
Or is this the love she was always meant to fight for?

Fourteen years ago, Isabella Winston died.

At least, that's what everyone believed.

One moment, she was trapped inside a sinking car beneath the icy waters of the Hudson River. The next, she woke up in her own bathtub and somehow fourteen years in the future.

Her husband is no longer the warm, easygoing man she remembers.

Her five-year-old son is now a nineteen-year-old stranger who looks at her with suspicion.

Her twins barely remember the mother they lost—one forever chasing affection, the other keeping the entire world at arm's length.

And the family she left behind has become something broken, distant, and unrecognizable.

Now Isabella faces an impossible challenge: rebuilding a family that never truly recovered from losing her.

Fourteen years have left scars on everyone.

Unfortunately for those causing the damage, Isabella Winston has returned to set things right.

Following a fabricated assault case, my husband had me committed to a psychiatric hospital to quash public outcry.
After five years locked away, my sight finally returned.
I was overjoyed and ready to share the news with Richard—only to find he had long betrayed me, carrying on an affair with my half-sister.T
he entire ordeal was a setup from the beginning. They framed me, poisoned me to rob me of my sight, and even turned my own son against me, making him call that woman "Mom".
For every lie and wound they inflicted, I will make that despicable pair pay the ultimate price.

I looked Dante dead in the eye and said with crystal clarity, "Security! Please come and escort these clowns out. It seems they missed their way to the circus."
Lucien, still seated, finally spoke, his voice like frostbite. "If I see him within ten feet of you again… I'll take it personally."


Ravenna has always lived in the shadow of betrayal.
"Lily suits Dante better… she's the one he truly wants." The words stung, but not as much as the moment Dante himself confirmed them. "Don't overthink it, Ravenna. You know Lily and I share a history you can't compete with. "
That was the day Ravenna stopped waiting to be chosen.
A gifted doctor with hands that heal what others cannot, she hides her scars behind composure—until her father and stepsister strip away her last freedom. Faced with Dante's betrayal, her sister's scorn, and her father's indifference, Ravenna accepts the demand to marry in her sister's place—because she knows that respect is never granted, only taken. Bound to Lucien, a man she neither chose nor trusts, she steps into the marriage determined to seize her own power.
But Lucien is not the cruel stranger she imagined. Cold and calculating, yet bound by secrets of his own, he unsettles her with moments of unexpected tenderness. What was meant to be her prison becomes a battlefield of silence, suspicion, and a desire she cannot ignore.
As Ravenna works to bring down those who wronged her, she must also face the dangerous pull of a husband she was never meant to love. In the end, will vengeance define her—or will love rewrite the fate she thought was sealed?

He's her arrogant boss. She's his biggest headache. Neither expected to become family, or to fall this hard.
Stella Blake has one goal in mind: rise through the corporate ranks, hit every target, and avoid falling for the insufferable CEO who seems determined to block her at every turn.
Rhysand King is cold, controlling, and relentless. He refuses to take no for an answer, especially not from the bold new executive who keeps challenging him in his own boardroom.
When a high-stakes merger forces them to work side by side, tensions run high. Then comes the real shock: their parents are getting married, making them soon-to-be stepsiblings.
What begins as a power struggle slowly turns into something much more dangerous. She doesn't like him. He doesn't trust her. But resisting each other proves impossible.
Office clashes lead to lingering touches. Family dinners are filled with lingering glances. And just when they think things can't get more complicated, the truth starts to unravel, and both their hearts are on the line.
Enemies. Stepsiblings. Lovers?
This irresistible grumpy boss, enemies-to-lovers romance is full of slow-burn chemistry, explosive tension, and a forbidden relationship that defies all the rules.
One bed. No boundaries. And no chance of walking away without consequences.

Accidentally murdered the bride?
Check.
Forced to marry the cursed Alpha who's lost six wives?
Check.
Now wearing her dress, dragged to his bed, while the pack waits outside for proof he's fucked me raw?
Double check.
Remi was just trying to catch her cheating boyfriend in the act. Instead, she tripped, ripped lace, and cracked a skull.
Now Alpha Nero Blackwater owns her. "Bride for bride," he growls. "You owe me a wedding… and a womb." The curse kills his mates before dawn. Unless he plants an heir fast. But something's wrong.
What if there was never a curse at all?
One night to survive. One claiming to break everything. One Alpha who'll fuck her senseless… even if it's the last thing she feels.


"Congratulations, Alpha Nero," she said cheerfully. "Seems the Moon Goddess has chosen your seventh bride."
I choked. "SEVENTH?!"
"The other six are dead," he said flatly.
"And I'm number seven?"
"Correct."
"IS THIS A MARRIAGE OR A SURVIVAL GAME?!"

Isabella Cortez, an interior designer and an extremely spoiled heir Of CF Inc., who always got whatever she wanted, finally got married to the city's most eligible bachelor and Billionaire who also didn't hesitate to spoil her.
Even though it didn't start as a love marriage, life was great between the couple. But when her husband was involved in a plane crash and lost four years of his memories, Isabella's perfect world was turned upside down.
Unfortunately for her, the only memory Kristen remembers was with Iris, his ex-girlfriend he broke up with four years ago while the memory he shared with Isabella has completely disappeared.
Can she help her husband remember who he is and what they had together? Or is she going to lose him forever?

Bryson POV
Blackridge University was already a nightmare before I dumped hot coffee all over Julian Hayes.
He's tall, built, with this perfect smirk that makes me want to punch him. Captain of the hockey team and the biggest asshole I've ever met.
He destroyed me in front of everyone. Made sure I knew exactly where I stood.
But then I joined the hockey team to make my mom happy, and suddenly everything changed. I could actually play. And Julian? He started looking at me like he wanted to destroy me in a whole different way.
Now every practice feels like war. Every time we're alone in the locker room, I can barely breathe.
I hate him.
I want him.
And I'm pretty sure he knows it.

Julian's POV
I run Blackridge University. Team captain, golden boy, everyone wants to be me or be with me. Then some transfer kid crashes into me and ruins my shirt.
Bryson Miller.
Smart mouth, cheap clothes, and eyes that look at me like he's not impressed.
I should've crushed him and moved on. But the little shit joined my hockey team and turned out to be good. Really good.
Now I can't get him out of my head. Every practice, every fight we have feels like something else entirely. Something I don't want to think about.
I thought that was complicated enough.
Then I walk into my house tonight and find Bryson unpacking boxes in my living room..

Christian Caine, the heir to the Caine Crime Family, has been designed to drive any woman beyond seven sensations of pleasure. His body is carved to perfection. His biceps clench and flex, and his abs tighten with his every movement. He is powerful and elegant. Drawn to danger and a determination to conquer, he is yet to keep a woman's heart.

Cassandra Cumming, she is mysterious but the girl that every man desires. She presents all the things that Christian cannot have, and this is the very thing that draws him to her.

Their love is forbidden from the start, but neither of them is willing to let go of each other. Christian goes against what seems to be right and so goes up again his father and the Mafia world.

After one fateful night, Christian sets out to the start of a Mafia War.

Will Christian and Cassandra rise from this stronger?

Will she ultimately become his Mafia Princess?

That night in the velvet shadows of the masked club, I was nothing but a body for sale.
My own brother auctioned me, and the man who bought me claimed every inch of my skin with a hunger that felt like fire. He was a nameless stranger in the dark, leaving me with nothing but bruised lips and a memory I tried to bury.

The next morning, the mask was gone.

Standing before me was Ethan Blackwell, the ruthless billionaire who ruined my family and the man I’m now forced to marry.
Now I’m trapped in his penthouse, playing the part of the perfect wife while carrying a secret that’s growing inside me.

Seven years ago, Macedonia Stallone fled her marriage after her ex-husband, the current Alpha King of the Sowinski Kingdom, Azarius Kingston de Carteret, divorced her.

Despite her attempts to leave the past behind, Macedonia still grapples with guilt over the pain she inflicted on Azarius. Despite her efforts to evade him, Azarius eventually tracks her down, determined to hold her accountable for her actions.

As their prolonged game of hide-and-seek nears its climax, Macedonia fears that Azarius may have uncovered her most closely guarded secret: their daughter, Amaryllis. Is she prepared for the wrath he might unleash upon her?

I moved into my sister’s house to escape my ruined divorce, but I never expected her aggressively cheerful best friend to become my darkest, dirtiest obsession. Lila and I hated each other on sight. But everything changed the day I walked through the front door……

She was right in the middle of our shared living room on a pink yoga mat. She was in the downward dog position, her hips arched in the air, wearing nothing but extremely short black yoga shorts that clung to her tight ass, and a minimal top that left her heavy cleavage spilling out.

I completely froze. Unwanted, utterly unexpected images flashed through my mind—me standing directly behind her, my hands gripping those firm hips, ripping those tiny shorts down, and thrusting into her wet heat right there on the laminate floor while she screamed my name. I dropped my groceries in shock.

But the real torture came at 4 AM. I woke up sweating, my cock throbbing and painfully hard against my plaid pajama pants from a wet dream where I was kneading her breasts and burying my tongue down her throat while I fucked her over the arm of the couch. I jumped out of bed for a cold shower to kill my raging boner. Instead, I slammed right into her in the pitch-black hallway.

Her soft, warm stomach pressed flush against my bare chest, and worse—my rock-hard cock twitched and pressed directly against her bare thighs. I flew backward like her skin had seared my flesh. We stood there in the dark, breathing heavily. Her eyes drifted down my torso, landing directly on the heavy bulge in my pants. She stepped closer, her sweet strawberry scent filling my lungs, and whispered seductively, "What, you can check me out but I can’t check you out?" She bit her bottom lip, her gaze full of pure, wicked lust, before slipping into her room. I stood there gripping the doorframe,my dick aching for release. I’m a grown LAPD officer, and she’s my sister’s best friend. If I touch her, it will ruin everything. But God, I am going to tear her apart...

The fake love Enzo and Mia started with was all becoming too real, and Mia has to ask if this is what she really wants?
When I moved to Paris, it was supposed to be a fresh start. A new city, a fashion dream ahead of me, and my stalker ex firmly in the past.
But then my new boss turns out to be Enzo Renault, my brother's best friend, the man who rejected me ten years ago. And now he wants me to fake-date him to keep his meddling mother out of his love life.
So here I am, pretending to be the girlfriend of the cold, infuriatingly handsome man I once swore I'd never forgive.
I've never really dated, and Enzo swears he'll never fall in love. Perfect match, right? Soon, we're practicing it all in secret: dates, kisses, even sharing a bed. The only rule? My brother can never find out.
But Enzo buys me dresses, praises my designs, and looks at me like I'm not just his friend's little sister anymore. And when he touches me, I can't tell what's pretend… and what's not.
Because the more we practice being in love, the more it feels dangerously real.

They thought he was dead.

They were wrong.

After years of war, bloodshed, and survival, Ares McKay returns to Chicago only to find his sister buried in the ground.

The people responsible are untouchable.

Political dynasties.

Billionaire families.

Criminal empires hidden behind luxury and power.

But Ares has spent five years becoming something far more dangerous than they could imagine.

One wedding turns into a massacre.

One city is pushed to the edge of chaos.

And one man begins a campaign of vengeance that will shake the foundations of every powerful family in Chicago.

Because when they murdered his sister...

They declared war on the wrong man.

Calista was deceived by someone she thought was her "boyfriend," losing all her savings and getting kicked out by her landlord.
Now homeless in a city far from home with no one to turn to, she unexpectedly finds shelter in a shared apartment with three men- Zane, Cedric, and Draven. Not only do they offer Calista a fresh start, but they also bring her into a web of temptation and mystery.
Calista's journey is an emotional rollercoaster as she navigates the complexities of her new living situation while struggling to overcome the pain of betrayal. As she attempts to rebuild her life, she finds herself drawn to the lives of her roommates, each offering a different kind of allure.
Zane: "You're a sweet girl, Calista."
Cedric: "You're making me more intrigued, Calista."
Draven: "You're the first person who made me smile, Calista."
Amid the chaos of her new reality, Calista can't shake the feeling that she's a pawn in a game she doesn't fully understand. Has she stepped from one deceit into another? Can she trust the men she now calls her roommates?