3670 Book(s) Related to my wife is wagatsuma-san

My husband thinks a "tragic surgical accident" left me completely blind. Now, he's moved his mistress right into our house to be my nurse. They openly whisper about my life insurance while preparing my afternoon tea. They think a blind wife is the perfect prey. But are they sure I'm in the dark?

Cancer was supposed to be my death sentence. Instead, it became my liberation.

I thought I had it all—wealth, status, a picture-perfect life in Greenwich's elite circles. Then came the diagnosis that would change everything: six months to live. But facing my final chapter, I uncovered a truth more devastating than any terminal illness—the man sleeping beside me was slowly killing my soul.

When you have nothing left to lose, you discover exactly how powerful you can become.

My husband's first love, Celine, lured me to a remote cabin under the guise of an "apology."
 
She then poured gasoline all over the porch and locked the door from the outside.
 
In my past life, the moment the fire began to spread, I desperately called my husband, Julian—a fire captain—for rescue.
 
He smashed the door open and saved me.
 
Ironically, Celine's scheme backfired, and she died of smoke inhalation outside.
 
Yet, Julian pinned her blood debt entirely on me.
 
He kept me at the hospital with his hypocritical comfort, only to tear off his disguise the day I was discharged. He tied me to a pillar in an abandoned warehouse and poured gasoline at my feet.
 
As the flames ignited, my ten-week-old unborn child and I were swallowed by the raging fire.
 
Julian's eyes were bloodshot. Facing my agonizing screams, his gaze held nothing but pure, unadulterated hatred:
 
"If you hadn't gone mad with jealousy and locked the door from the inside, Celine would never have died! Stop playing the victim!"
 
"The pain she suffered before she died... I'm going to make you pay for it ten times, a hundred times over!"
 
In the blazing light, he watched coldly as I was burned alive, turning into a charred corpse.
 
When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the exact moment the fire started to spread.

Every time my fated mate strayed, his guilt bought me a moon-forged ring.

For four years, I collected ninety-nine rings. I swallowed his betrayals ninety-nine times to keep our pack stable.

Recently, while he claimed to be at a three-day border summit, I miscarried our heir. The shock of our fraying mate-bond killed the pup the exact moment I realized he was actually buying a secret territory for his childhood sweetheart.

When he finally walked through our door, holding out the hundredth ring—a priceless, ancient artifact—to buy my silence one last time, he expected his Luna to fall in line.

But he doesn't know the pup is gone.

And he has no idea I'm about to reject him in front of the entire pack.

My brother's first day on the job, and the new intern, Ashley Pratt, accuses him of trying something with her in the break room.

In my last life, I panicked under all those judging stares and my father screaming at me over the phone. I grabbed my brother by the shoulder and forced him to bow and apologize to her, tried to pay her off to make it go away.

She turned around and leaked the wire transfer online instead, twisted it into a story about rich people paying to buy back their good name. The backlash spiraled out of control. My brother couldn't take the flood of hate anymore and jumped from the roof. He hit the ground and there was nothing left of him to recognize.

My father used my failure to handle it as an excuse to push me off the board. I ended up watching the woman responsible climb over my brother's grave and take the CEO seat at Merritt Industries.

Fate is giving me a second shot.

My brother reaches for me, eyes rimmed red. "Camille, I swear I didn't do anything."

I pull him behind me and look down at the woman crying on the floor.

"She's saying you assaulted her? Fine. Let's call the cops."

At the annual charity gala, I stood in the spotlight as the student representative.

My roommate, Harper, suddenly stormed the stage, publicly accusing me of being a sugar baby who seduced her father.

"That diamond necklace around her neck was bought with my dad's money!"

I instantly became public enemy number one. The crowd erupted into a frenzy of boos, and the administration, caving to the pressure, prepared to expel me on the spot.

Facing the out-of-control screaming and the countless live-stream cameras shoved in my face, I pulled out my phone and dialed the so-called "sugar daddy" right there in front of everyone.

"Dad," I said coldly. "Since when did I get a new 'sister'?"

The day I secured the finale at New York Fashion Week, my adopted sister was in a car crash that left her completely blind.
And so began a ruthless campaign to destroy my life.
Listening to me prepare for the runway, she touched her heavy gauze bandages and wept bitterly. "You're so brilliant, Valora. Not like me... I'm just a useless, blind burden."
To placate her, our brother burned my core design sketches to ashes.
On the day of the show, my finale haute couture gown was maliciously slashed to ribbons. My reputation was left in ruins, and every single sponsor pulled their funding.
Later, she live-streamed her suicide attempt from a rooftop, sobbing that a disabled girl like her didn't deserve to be loved.
My husband dropped to one knee in front of the entire world and slipped the custom diamond ring—my ring—onto her finger.
That very night, I was dead-bolted inside my roaring, fire-engulfed studio.
With toxic smoke searing my lungs, I dialed my husband's number for help, only to be met with his frustrated, impatient voice:
"Serafina is blind! The fire alarms have her terrified! Stop being so damn petty and jealous right now!"
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of her accident. The day she faked her blindness.

Not long ago, my pregnant daughter was murdered, and the killer remained at large.
Until that day, as I stood before her grave, her husband Oliver asked me,
"Mom, do you know who Robin is?"
"Stella came back from her prenatal checkup one day and said she bumped into Robin," he choked out. "She even said she wanted to take the baby to visit him."
My hand, reaching out to comfort him, froze in mid-air.
Because Robin was no good man—he had once tried to harm Stella.
That name was her lifelong nightmare. She wouldn't even dare look at a picture of a robin in a book.
And that name was a secret known only to me and my late husband.
So... who exactly is lying?

My family ignored my calls while I was dying in our basement. They thought I was trying to ruin my younger sister's graduation.
That night, my brother finally came looking for me. My sister wanted the cookies I used to bake for her.
I was right beside him when he demanded that I come home.
He couldn't hear me. My body was still downstairs.

I waited five years for a heart transplant.
My mother—the Luna of our Pack, the healer everyone worships—gave it to someone else.
An orphan girl she took in. A girl who now calls her "Mom."
Ivy got my heart. She got a wolf. She got a mate and a wedding so grand the whole Pack attended.
Me? I watched from the corner, still dying, while my mother smiled for the cameras and accepted praise for her "selfless sacrifice."
When I finally snapped at the ceremony, she slapped me. Told me to apologize. Said I was embarrassing the family.
I'm her actual daughter. I'm the one who can't shift, can't feel a mate bond, can't survive another six months.
But sure. I'm the problem.
They wanted me to stay quiet and die gracefully.
I chose to make sure everyone sees who their perfect Luna really is.

My foster brother Caelan swore he'd only ever marry me. Even though I'm the only human in a pack of wolves, for eighteen years he and his brother Ronan made me feel like I belonged.
Then Mira showed up—and suddenly she was his "fated mate."
I watched him bond with her while I choked on poisoned incense and collapsed. No one caught me. They were too busy wiping her tears.
Within a week, she had my room. My job. Eighteen years of memories—trashed.
They said I could never leave them.
They forgot about the vampire prince who's been waiting at the border for three months.
He never forgot me.

On our fifth anniversary, Caspian gifted me a luxury yacht bearing my name. Everyone said I was the luckiest woman alive.
But when I finally conceived his child and prepared to share the news, his mistress sent me photos—him cradling a baby she'd given him, his eyes filled with a tenderness I'd never seen.
Five years of waiting, five years of infertility—all an elaborate lie.
He once whispered in my ear: "Even if every man in the world betrays his wife, I never will. You're my life. Without you, I can't survive."
I quietly packed, left behind my pregnancy report and all the evidence, and drove away. Three hours later, he received the call: my car exploded on the highway. No survivors.
From that day on, the most powerful man in Valen City lost his mind completely.

The last time Adrian and I fought about Sophie Bennett, we didn't realize our daughter was standing right outside the door.
 
"Don't forget how Ellie got here in the first place. If you hadn't trapped me with a pregnancy, there wouldn't have been a wedding. So yes, goddamn it—I wish Sophie's boy was mine."
 
After that night, Ellie stopped asking for Adrian. She invited George to her preschool field day. She gave the Father's Day present she'd made to our bodyguard.
 
Then, one day, a business associate teased me about when I was going to give Ellie a younger sibling.
 
Ellie scrambled out of her playroom. "Mom, you should have it with Uncle Victor! I want a baby brother that belongs to you and Uncle Victor!."
 
The sharp crash of shattering porcelain echoed from the upstairs landing. Adrian stood there, pale, staring at the cake he'd dropped.
 
"I broke Ellie's cake," he said. "I'll go get another piece."
 
He turned and fled down the hallway, disappearing before either of us could say a word.

"The Draganovs are moving on Celeste tonight. I'm taking her to the safe house. We'll do the claiming after this, Orla. I promise."
That's what my husband said the seventh time he chose Celeste over me.
Celeste. The girl he'd loved since before he had a wife to ignore.
The first time, she heard footsteps outside her window at two in the morning. Rafael sent his whole detail to sit on her house and left me at a meeting with two men who wanted our shipping routes and didn't like being told no. I came home with a bullet crease across my ribs. He apologized for a week.
The third time, someone tipped the cops on one of our warehouses and she got scared. He drove her upstate himself. I took a knife at the door because there was no one left standing in front of me.
By the sixth time, he didn't explain. He just texted the doctor to be ready for me and left.
He's a Don. When the guns come out, he walks away clean. I'm the one wearing his name where everyone can see it. The one they aim at first. Six scars say so.
Every time, he held my face after and promised. Founders' Day. In front of every family in the city. Once Celeste was safe. I believed him six times.
So when the seventh time came and he chose her again, my bags were already packed.
There won't be an eighth time he sends me out to die for her. Next time, there won't be a wife left for him to send.

I was reborn on the day my baby was murdered, and the first thing I did was send my son away from the Hale estate. When I returned to the party, a black stroller was floating in the pool. Everyone thought the dead child was mine. They told me I could have another baby while they protected the ten-year-old girl who had pushed the stroller in. Then my father arrived with my living son in his arms, and the child dragged from the trash compactor turned out to be the killer’s own baby brother.

For the tenth time, James Smith left me behind because of a call from his female student.
But it was as if I had become a different person—I no longer doubted that there was something ambiguous between James and his student.
Even on our wedding anniversary, when he abandoned me in the remote mountains for Sophia's sake, I bore no resentment.
Eventually, James began to sense something.
"Emily, you seem different," he said.
I shook my head with a smile.
Because I had simply made a different choice from the one in my past life.

My uncle cut off my allowance the moment he spotted my new tongue piercing. That night, I found a stranger online asking how to make his friend’s “gold-digging girlfriend” leave him. I told him to send her money. Minutes later, $8,888 landed in my account—from my uncle’s best friend, Adrian Foster, the handsome, buttoned-up man who thought my uncle was my boyfriend. The stranger was him. The gold-digging girlfriend was me. And the man he thought was my boyfriend? My uncle.

I took a bullet for my husband five years ago. He married me in the ICU before the anesthesia wore off.
Raffaele Santoro—heir to the most powerful mafia family in Italy—told me I was his everything. He bought a castle and named it after me. He reserved a grave beside his parents so we'd lie together for eternity.
While I was pumping my body full of hormones for our fourth round of IVF, he was across town watching his childhood sweetheart give birth to twin boys.
He named one of them Dante—the name I'd chosen for our future son.
The night I found out, I was seven weeks pregnant with his child.
I didn't tell him.
I called my best friend and said: I need everyone to think I'm dead.

Six weeks after his girlfriend had twins, my husband got himself fixed. He billed it to my insurance.
Then he spent nine years driving me to fertility clinics. Two surgeries. Four rounds of shots. He held my hand every time and told me next time.
The whole town said it was my fault. His mother asked me every Sunday if there was any news.
I died at forty-four. Three days before the end I couldn't open my eyes, but I could hear them over my bed. The girl I bought a purple bicycle for called him Dad.
Then I opened my eyes and I was thirty-four again, on a gurney, waiting for them to open me up one more time.
Last time I lay back down and let them do it. I did it three more times after that.
This time he's paying me back for all nine years, one line at a time.
The nurse asked me to confirm my date of birth. I did. Then I told her I wasn't doing it.

The stepbrother I grew up with was a golden boy, a star varsity quarterback everyone had high hopes for.
But for a street-level delinquent, he abandoned his Ivy League future.
Desperate to pull his life back on track, I tried to expose his toxic girlfriend.
Yet, he hated me to the bone for it.
For her, he ruthlessly dragged our family into the crossfire of a deadly gang dispute, causing us all to meet a violent, tragic end.
I never expected fate to rewind the clock.
To give me a second chance.

I spent three hundred years winning Varen Ashworth's war. Bled for him. Handed him my army, my secrets, the healing blood from my own chest. He'd be nothing without me.
On his coronation day, he announced his queen—and it wasn't me. It was Elara. Some trembling, doe-eyed girl he'd pulled out of a Demon camp. He told me I could stay on as her handmaid.
I laughed, voided the contract, and walked out.
Because I've lived this life before. Last time, I exposed Elara. Saved his throne. He thanked me—then slaughtered my entire bloodline.
This time, I'm not saving anyone.
This time, I'll watch him figure out exactly what kind of woman he picked over me. And when his whole world comes apart—he'll be on his knees, begging the one person who could've stopped it.
I won't be listening.

After the crash, my husband, Darius, lost his ability to speak. The trauma to his cervical spine left him unable to even lift a finger.
The doctors said his only remaining way to communicate was to nod, or to shake his head.
Sitting by his hospital bed, I finally asked the question that had been eating away at me for three months.
"When the crash happened... were you on your way to see your mistress?"
Darius stared dead at me. Then, slowly, he nodded.

At my boyfriend's exhibition party, I went into anaphylactic shock after eating the cake Mia handed me.
I stumbled, reaching for my EpiPen, only for Mia to snatch it out of my hand and crush it under her heel.
"Give... it back..." I choked out, grabbing onto my boyfriend's arm.
He just shook me off, disgusted. "Chloe, can you stop being so dramatic? It's not that big a deal."
"Yeah, Mia's basically family," one of his friends chimed in. "You're being way too jealous and controlling."
Nobody was listening to me anymore.
With the last of my strength, I pressed down on the hidden button on the side of my watch — the one I'd never had to use before.

At last season's Grand Olfactory Gala, Vivienne Harrow presented my formula before I could reach the stage.
I confronted her. She asked where my proof was.
I had nothing. The formula had never left my head — no notes, no records, nothing. I didn't know how she'd gotten it.
I died not knowing.
Then I opened my eyes, and she was already reaching for me.
"Not this time."
I stepped back.

In my last life, I was the one who stopped it.
The second I recognized what was in that cup—a cold medicine loaded with compounds that end any pilot's career on contact with a drug screening—I knocked it out of Ivy's hands. Reid shoved me so hard I hit the coffee table. He got his four stripes anyway. Then he publicly destroyed my reputation, stood by while his fans harassed me off the internet, and smiled when I was pushed down a flight of stairs.
I died knowing he never looked back.
This time, I come back as myself: senior aviation medical officer, five years into a relationship with a man I now see clearly. When Ivy holds out that same cup with that same bright smile, I already know exactly what's in it.
I take a step back.
"Drink it while it's hot," I tell him. "Don't leave a drop."
I spent one lifetime being everyone's safety net. Not this time.

My two best friends killed me over a girl who'd been dead six months.
Lila Bishop never got a single offer. So she cried and clung until Cole and Wes were ready to throw away their full rides and follow her to nowhere. I tried to stop them — they called me jealous and cut me off. So I went over their heads. I called their moms. I fixed their signing papers myself, the night before the deadline.
Six months later Lila was gone, and they blamed me. They dragged me to the roof of our gym and threw me off.
Then I opened my eyes — three months back, the day it all started.
Last time, I broke myself trying to save them.
This time, I'd let them jump.

I'm just a stay-at-home mom. Old T-shirt, secondhand car, nobody ever looks at me twice.
At the school fundraiser, my husband's mistress put a peanut in my seven-year-old's mouth. He's severely allergic. As he choked on the grass, she crushed my hand under her heel and kicked his EpiPen straight into the lake.
"One worthless little life," she said. "So what if it's gone."
She's wearing my clothes. My jewelry. Spending my money. She calls me trash in front of the whole school and threatens to have my legs broken.
She thinks she's untouchable, because she's the wife of a Wall Street golden boy.
What she doesn't know is that every dollar he has, every thread she's wearing, even the air she's breathing — all of it belongs to me.
I walked away from that world to raise my son in peace.
She just gave me a reason to come back.

Three years ago, my fiance Marco Ferrante walked out on our engagement for his mistress Vivienne Salas — and now they're both back, kicking in my door and screaming that my baby isn't his.
He's right. It's not his.
It belongs to the most dangerous man in Verrano.
And Marco just put his boot through the Devil's only heir.

After I took in my first love, she promised she'd always be good to me.
But after my mother died in a car accident, I found her in our home—with another man.
She told everyone Colin was her true love, that I was just a little brother she never wanted, and that I was the one who couldn't let go.
Everyone turned against me. My father had a stroke from the rage. Colin even had someone run me over—cost me an eye.
Seven years later.
I stood outside a convenience store holding flowers when I saw them.
Audrey's daughter looked at me with pity. "Mom, that man only has one eye... Is he selling flowers? Should we buy some?"

My brother Adrian said I was the one person who could make him drop everything.
I believed him—until his girlfriend came to our house.
She waited for Adrian to leave the room. Then she grabbed my chin, accused me of stealing her boyfriend, and slapped me across the face.
I was only three. She still warned me not to tell.
When Adrian returned, she smiled and said I had fallen.
But the red fingerprints on my cheek told a different story.
So did the camera above us.

My Beta boyfriend had secret rendezvous with Annie — nine times in one night.
“You,” he sneered, “with your precious Alpha blood—do you think you’re better than everyone else?
Your jealousy is disgusting, Chloe.”
Annie, that viper disguised as an angel, stole my place, plagiarized my work, and climbed higher, stepping over my broken bones.
Even said,
“Beta Dean loves me!
You were always the extra!
It was you who ruined us!”
I won’t let them be happy.
This revenge, forged in blood and fire, has only just begun.

Alpha William’s two mistresses ran away again.
For them, he asked to break our bond.
“Let me coax them first, then we’ll bond again.”
And for him, I agreed.
He sent me to the Freezing Northern Lands, just to please them.
He even allowed them to set me on fire.
When the flames rose, the first ones he saved—
weren’t me, but them.
“Just wait—I’ll come back for you soon.”
But what I never told him was—
I won’t wait for him anymore.
Because in three months,
my life will be over.

When Catherine Meyers started a new school in New York all she wanted was to be invincible. She was okay with being in the background. She planned to finish high school with a good GPA and go to Harvard. She wanted to be a neurosurgeon.

But her hopes were shattered when a force from the past which she couldn't remember barged into her life again.
And this time he promised to ruin her.

Ace Hampton was the King of Riverside highschool and Catherine Meyers is the rose he vowed to remove her petals one after the other until she is gone.

Her father killed his father, how dare she act like she doesn't know him?

He remembers her but she couldn't remember him and he would make her pay.

★★★
WARNING: THIS BOOK CONTAINS SEXUAL SCENES AND BEHAVIORS THAT MIGHT SEEM WEIRD TO OTHER PEOPLE SO IF YOU ARE EASILY TRIGGERED PLEASE AVOID THIS BOOK.
BE WARNED THIS IS A DARK ROMANCE BOOK.

Seven years. A three-million-dollar contract. A heart broken into pieces.

Serena Powell was never more than a ghost in her own home. Hired by a billionaire to heal his broken son, she spent seven years playing the role of a devoted wife and mother, hiding the jagged scar on her palm,a reminder of the night she saved Victor’s life. She thought her love had finally overwritten the contract. She was wrong.

When Victor’s "true love," Eliza, returns with a child of her own, the fairy tale dissolves. Overnight, Serena is branded an outsider. Her husband treats her like a servant, and her son,the boy she raised as her own,tells her to "just die already" so Eliza can take her place.

Accused of a crime she didn’t commit and slapped by the man she sacrificed everything for, Serena finally realizes the truth: In a world where feelings come with a price tag, she’s already paid too much.

Now, the divorce papers are signed, the suitcase is packed, and a prestigious design firm in Glonia is calling her name. Serena is done being a substitute. But as she walks out the door, Victor is about to learn that some things,once broken,can never be repaired. Especially when he realizes he didn't just lose a contract... he lost the only woman who ever truly loved him.

Y

With one week left until the wedding, Henry Jones asked me to reschedule the date—for one simple reason:
“On our wedding day, I’m taking Ann to the hospital for her prenatal checkup.”
Ann is the widow of his brother Ethan. She’s also my half-sister. In that private room, they laughed at me for being “almost thirty and desperate to get married.”
Ann put on an innocent face. “If Rory is really in such a rush… I can reschedule my appointment.”
I wanted to break up, and Henry frowned as he lectured me:
“As her future sister-in-law, why do you have to fight her over this one day?”
I asked him, “Do you even remember what Friday is?”
He coaxed me softly: “One day earlier or later—what’s the difference?” I nodded and said “Fine,” thinking I could still swallow it.
Until I pressed my fingerprint to enter his office and overheard Ann questioning him about inheritance, and Henry answered under his breath, “It won’t come to that—I won’t let Rory get pregnant with my child.”

To save my cousin from a car accident, my mother, a medical luminary, used me as a "human guinea pig" for twelve years.
When I was twelve, she made me inject myself with three injections of unproven new drugs every week;
when I was fourteen, she directly shoved toxic compounds into my mouth.
When my organs were irreversibly failing and I was vomiting blood in the ICU, she coldly tossed me a payment order:
"Stop pretending to be dead. Immediately kowtow and apologize to your brother, or no hospital will admit you."
As she wished, I was forced to leave the hospital and died at her glamorous new drug launch.
Later, that high-and-mighty mother, obsessed with fame and fortune, knelt for an entire night in a snow-covered fir forest, holding my crudely made urn.
Sadly, I will never forgive her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Welcome to your new addiction.

"Spread your legs for us, baby," Khuraan growled, voice rough and commanding. "We want to see what’s ours."

My breath caught.

Zarkhan leaned down, his breath hot against my throat. "You said you could handle all three of us. Prove it."

"And don’t even think about faking it," Hakkan added, his tone a silky threat. "I’ll know. I always know."

Their eyes bore into me—three alphas, three predators circling their prey. The air crackled with dominance, with a heat that drenched me from the inside out.

Khuraan's fingers grazed my cheek, tilting my chin upward. "Touch yourself, baby. Show us how badly you need to be claimed."

My heart thundered in my chest. Every inch of my skin burned, every nerve tuned to the weight of their stares. I was trembling—part fear, part hunger.

"Say it," Zarkhan hissed. "Say you want us watching. Say you want to fall apart for your alphas."

A moan escaped me before I could stop it.

"I want..." My voice shook. "I want you to watch me."

"Good girl," Hakkan murmured. "Now don’t stop until we tell you to."

Giselle Blanco thought she’d escaped the claws of a possessive Alpha when she fled Omaha. But running straight into the arms of three dominant, dangerously intoxicating stepbrothers? That wasn’t part of the plan.

Khuraan—the bold, ruthless mafia Alpha of the East—wants to see how far she’ll bend before she breaks.
Zarkhan—the silent storm ruling the West—wants to bury himself in her until she forgets her own name.
And Hakkan—the seductive doctor with lethal instincts—knows just how to read her every secret desire... even the ones she’s too ashamed to whisper.

They want her to kneel. To beg. To surrender.
But Giselle has no intention of being claimed... until her own body betrays her.

Aria walks into a wedding searching for answers—only to lose everything in the space of a single, shattering moment. Rejected by the man she thought loved her, stripped of her job, mocked, dragged out, and left with nowhere to sleep, she wanders the night praying for mercy.
But mercy comes in the most unexpected form.
Magnus Thane Dravon, a man of power, pride, and impossible walls, crosses her path twice in one day—first mistaking her for trouble, then becoming the only person standing between her and real danger. He should’ve left her to fate. Instead, something in her fear, her stubborn courage, and her quiet vulnerability pulls at a part of him he thought no longer existed.
Two broken moments.
One unexpected connection.
A night that changes everything—and awakens feelings neither of them is ready to face.

My husband Lucius said: 'My real wife has returned.'
To keep him, for a month I clung to him, making love passionately...

"It's still her." Three words.
That was all it took for the carefully constructed world of my last five years to shatter into dust at my feet. Zane didn't even have the decency to look away as he said it.
For twenty years, I had been the third wheel. The reliable shadow to Jovienne's brilliant sun. I had buried my own feelings for Zane so deep I almost forgot they existed, only daring to dig them up and confess them after Jovi had left the country and broken his heart.
We built a life. A marriage.
I truly believed, in my foolish, hopeful heart, that it was my happy ending.
Now Jovienne was back, and the illusion was gone. The love of my life saw me only as a consolation prize.
As my world collapses, the last person I expect comfort from is her husband—a man as cold and polished as he is powerful.
Vance sees the same betrayal in my eyes that he sees in his wife's.
Leaning in, his voice a dangerous whisper, he proposed the unthinkable: "They are living in the past. Let's be each other's revenge. What do you say, Nerissa?"
I should avoid at all costs. It was a game that could burn our broken worlds to the ground.
But as I looked into his eyes and saw the same raw, humiliating betrayal reflected back at me, the answer poised on my lips wasn't "no."
It was a terrifying, thrilling question. "What," I whispered, my voice steadier than I felt, "did you have in mind?"

I had just found out I was pregnant when my husband handed me the divorce papers.

He looked at me with pure disdain. "You're not even worthy of me. Abort the child and get out!"

In the end, on the very night of his grand wedding to his "true love," I was crushed in a horrific car accident.

It was only when he held my death certificate that he realized his love for me had already pierced his very soul.

Years later, I returned with a new identity and my twin toddlers in tow, only to be cornered by that same madman.

"I don't know you, sir. Please show some self-respect," I said coldly.

He trapped me against the wall, his voice trembling. "Is that so? Then tell me... why do your children have my blood running through their veins?"

Your typical rejection classic plot, but make it at school and in front of everybody! The queen bee and senior year's school president started their last school year with a blast of a gossip! But Sophia is not having it, she will not let him have it his way!

Blurb -
"I, Jacob Carter of the Blood Moon Pack, reject you, Sophia Addison of the Crescent Moon Pack as my Luna-to-be." He announced with his full voice. I can hear loud gasps and whispers throughout the place. They cannot believe that their goody two shoes of a senior year president is making this claim in front of everybody. What goody two shoes? More like a two faced jerk!
"Sophia Addison, your answer?" He spat. I can feel the people's anticipation.
"I, Sophia Addison of the Crescent Moon Pack, deny your rejection Jacob Carter." I smiled triumphantly at him and he just glared at me. I looked away and turned my back at him.
I wouldn’t just let myself suffer a rejection! Let us suffer both!

Sofia Jones is a seventeen-year-old human who has never met her father. Her mother is never around because she would rather spend her time at the club than with her daughter. She isn't the most popular girl in school and only has one friend, Ella. Sofia has been in love with her best friend's twin brother since middle school, but she knows they can never be together, not only because he is the most popular boy who has been bullying her since freshman year but also because he is her best friends brother.

Ethan Black is the most popular boy in school. He is the Quarterback of the football team, and he can have any girl he wants, except for the one he has been in love with since the fifth grade, Sofia. She is his twin sister's best friend, but that is not the only reason he can't have her. Ethan Black is a werewolf, along with his twin sister and the rest of his family, and Sofia is a human who knows nothing about werewolves. Ethan has been bullying her since freshman year. He feels it is better to push her away than to stay close to her. He knows he will meet his Mate soon since his eighteenth birthday is coming up, but something shocking happens. He discovers that Sofia is his Mate.

Now, he is determined to make Sofia his, but will he be able to do that after the way he has been treating her? How will Sofia react when she discovers werewolves and other supernatural beings exist? What happens when the Vampire King takes a liking to Sofia and wants to make her his? Who will Sofia end up with?

You will have to read to find out!

All I ever wanted was to be Luna in order to save my mother’s life. I thought Alpha Beckett would be just the key, but I was wrong.
~
“I, Alpha Beckett of Ashridge Pack, by the name of the moon goddess, reject you as my mate!”
~
A rejection.
A bond severed.

But life had other plans for me in the form of Xander Theon Grayson, hockey star, golden boy of NorthVale High, A-star student. But what I didn’t know is that he’s an Alpha with a curse.

I need him, and he needs me.

So we signed a fake mate contract. But it comes with a lot more than I expected: a jealous ex, mysterious powers that level me up in a system, a quest to find my origin.

But the question in my mind is: Can I save my mother’s life? Can this bond between Xander and I blossom into something real, even something beautiful?

When her father fled with his mistress, leaving crushing debts behind, Freya Gilbert had nowhere to turn. Crashing Alpha Jonas's welcome ceremony in desperation, she never expected to find her fated mate there. But it wasn't gentle Jonas who made her wolf howl "mate." It was the dangerous, devastatingly powerful Niklaus Lockwood.
One scorching night of passion sealed her fate.
Niklaus already had his perfect chosen mate, the elegant Rebekah. Unwilling to abandon his plans, he offered Freya a cold business deal: be his contract Luna for three years, play the perfect wife in public, and he'd clear her debts. When their arrangement expired, she'd accept his rejection and disappear quietly.
Freya thought she could survive a loveless marriage. She was wrong.
Three years later, she's fallen hopelessly for the Alpha who sees her as nothing more than a gold-digging Omega. On their anniversary night, the very day their contract expires, Niklaus chooses Rebekah.
The message couldn't be clearer.
But when Freya files for divorce and moves out first, Niklaus's carefully controlled world shatters. The mate bond he's suppressed for years, and he never expected his obedient, compliant wife to actually leave him.
"I, Freya Gilbert, reject you, Niklaus Lockwood."
The words that should have set them both free only ignite a fire that threatens to consume them both.
Can a love born from a business contract survive the flames of pride and betrayal? Or will the most powerful Alpha in the territory lose his true mate because he was too blind to see what was right in front of him?
When the contract ends, the real battle for love begins.

“Please…” I whispered.

“Please, what?”

I ran my wet tongue through my dry lips. Voice barely above a whisper. “Please… please... please make me… make me… make me your little bitch.”

The words tasted bitter and filthy on my tongue. I hated myself for saying them. Hated how my cock twitched when I did.

“I can’t hear you, Jones,” He said, voice hard, low and commanding. “Louder.”

I swallowed again, eyes stinging. “Please make me your little bitch.”

“A little louder.”

My cheeks burned. I forced the words out stronger this time. “Please make me your little bitch.”

He smirked, slow and satisfied. The look in his eyes made my stomach flip.

“Good boy,” He murmured. “Now listen carefully, Jones. If you agree to this, you’re mine. Completely. You don't look at other men. You don’t think about them. You don’t even dream about them. Everything about you; your mouth, your ass, your cock, your body… even your thoughts, belongs to me. All of it. I get to treat and use you however and whenever I want. Rough. Gentle. Mean. Filthy. You take it all. And you praise me for it. Understood?”

I hesitated, heart pounding so hard I thought it was going to explode. The last bit of resistance flickered. My mind was screaming no; to get up, run and never look back.

“Well?” He urged, thumb still holding my chin.

I closed my eyes for half a second, detesting every inch of my being. Then I nodded, voice small. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes… I understand.”

“Good.”

...

Shane Blackwood is his name.

And he's a monster.

He's toxic, cruel and psychotic beyond your wildest imagination.

I knew all this.

And yet, I signed that stupid agreement.

And now... he owns me.

Completely.

There's no escape.

[This is a dark erotica MM. Rated 18+]

Five years ago, the Savage family poisoned my parents, broke both my legs, and threw me into the river. I barely survived — pulled out by passing mercenaries, I spent five years building an army that answers only to me.

Today, five years later, I’ve returned with that army for revenge. I thought they would be terrified and beg for mercy. I never imagined they’d be insane enough to kidnap my daughter — a daughter I didn’t even know existed, Mia.

She’s crying in an abandoned warehouse, her tiny hand clutching an old coat I left behind five years ago, calling out “Daddy.”

My wife, to save her, is taking off her dress in front of another man.

Outside the warehouse, ten thousand soldiers are waiting for my command.

And in my heart, there is only one thought: kill them all.

“You’re my daughter, but you’re worth nothing to me.”

My father’s cold voice shattered my last hope.

“Take her. In exchange, I want the territory.”

Betrayed by the only family she had, Kaelan Wolfsbane was sold like a piece of property to a rival Pack.

Born as a pure-blood Omega, she spent her entire life being ignored, humiliated, and treated as a burden. But when her father trades her away for power, she refuses to become another victim. Even trapped in Ironfang’s dungeon, broken and wounded, she holds onto one thing—her will to survive.

Until the most feared Alpha in the North appears.

Draven Blackthorn, the ruthless leader of the Blackthorn Pack, has always been her family’s enemy. Cold, powerful, and impossible to approach, he has destroyed countless enemies without mercy.

But when he rescues the Omega girl chained in a dungeon, he discovers something that changes everything.

She is not just his enemy’s daughter.

She is his fated mate.

The woman he was never supposed to love.

As Kaelan struggles to uncover the truth behind her mother’s disappearance and her father’s betrayal, Draven must choose between the revenge he has carried for years and the mate destiny has given him.

But when the secret hidden in Kaelan’s bloodline is revealed…

Will their bond save them?

Or will it destroy both Packs forever?