3924 Book(s) Related to oh my boss love not included

I woke up back on the night Rhys’s Blood Tide Frenzy hit.
This time, I wouldn’t offer my blood to calm him. Instead, I sent an urgent Message Crystal to Seraphina—his precious white moonlight.
In my past life, I saw Rhys’s Blood Tide spiraled out of control, threatening to tear his body apart.
In my past life, when he commanded me to call Seraphina, I had let my pathetic, unrequited love blind me.
I offered my own body as the cure, desperately weaving the Origin Blood Seal with him.
Not long after, I fell pregnant with his half-blood child.
He had no choice but to plan our wedding. On the big day, Seraphina was ambushed by blood hunters.
She sent ninety-nine distress blood signals, yet he was tied up with wedding duties and never saw a single one.
After his beloved nearly died, he laid every ounce of blame on me.
When I went into labor, he locked me away in the Blood Dungeon. He drained every drop of my Origin Blood in a ritual meant to resurrect Seraphina, leaving me and our unborn baby to die in agony.
As my life slipped away, his words echoed in my ears: I’d ruined his one true love, and both me and the child deserved to perish.
When I opened my eyes again, I was right back to that night.

“Smile, Natalie,” Callum whispered before he walked onstage.

So I smiled while he thanked another woman for the crisis plan I had written. I smiled when he pinned my grandmother’s sapphire brooch to her dress. I even smiled when his message came in, canceling our nineteenth appointment at the county clerk’s office.

Then I walked out with our unsigned marriage license papers in my purse and called the one CEO he hated most.

By the time Callum realized I wasn’t waiting anymore, I had already taken my name, my work, and my future back.

Seven years ago, Alpha Matthew's fiancée Elvira ran off with another alpha. I was just his assistant back then, harboring a secret crush but never imagining we could be together.

That night I picked him up from the bar. He was drunk and had been drugged. One night later I was pregnant, and Matthew became convinced I was the one who drugged him, that I'd schemed my way into becoming his luna. He hated me, but still gave me the title of secret mate. No mating ceremony, just a contract. My son and I lived in the guest wing of his estate for seven years.

Last night he drunkenly spun Liam around in circles. My son thought he was finally being accepted. But I heard the name Matthew was murmuring—Elvira. She was coming back, with her son.

I held my transfer request to the Eastern Region. This time, we're done waiting.

Sydney is reborn on National Decision Day after being betrayed and killed by her boyfriend Carter, her childhood friend Julian, and the scheming Harper.
Determined not to be their cash cow and victim again, she uses her family’s power to expose their crimes and fake innocent personas in front of Beverly Hills elites.
Ruined and desperate, the three traitors turn on each other and die on the same rooftop where they murdered her. Sydney finally breaks free and starts a brilliant new life at Harvard.

Nobody would believe that I, Sienna, the glamorous CEO's wife in the eyes of outsiders, couldn't even scrape together two decent outfits in my closet after three years of marriage.   And no one knew that every single cent I spent in private—from my brother's life-saving medical bills down to a pack of tampons—had to go through my husband's childhood sweetheart and personal assistant via a so-called corporate expense approval system.   I lived like a beggar, groveling for scraps under his assistant's watchful eye.   It wasn't until my critically ill brother's life-saving funds were maliciously rejected, turning my only remaining soft spot in this world to ashes, that this absurd marriage finally came to an end.

A 250-pound girl stole my body.

Over the phone, she cackled triumphantly, "Your flawless face, your wealth... it's all mine now!"

I stood in front of the mirror, staring at the heavy layers of fat that used to be hers. I didn't scream. I didn't beg for it back.

Instead, I hung up the phone, let out a long breath of relief, and just started laughing.

She thought she had stolen the glamorous, perfect life of a Hollywood socialite.

But she had no idea that in just a few hours, the severe drug withdrawals in that body would hit. She didn’t know that my cold-blooded mother would soon be standing over her with a loaded syringe, and a greasy, powerful producer was waiting in a penthouse bed to pin her down.

Since she wanted my life so desperately...

Let her walk through the gates of hell herself.

My three-year-old daughter hides behind the sofa whenever I try to hold her now.

“Mommy is scary,” she whispers, clutching her stuffed bear like a shield.

I thought it was just a toddler’s overactive imagination.

Until I checked the camera feed in my own bedroom.

I watched a woman who looked exactly like me step out of the shadows of our antique mirror, slip into my husband’s bed, and kiss him.

The man I loved and the family I trusted became my worst nightmares. They destroyed my child and tortured me to death over a blood curse. Reborn once more, I hold all the painful memories. I will tear off their masks of kindness, seek justice, and flee far away to start a brand new life, free from all suffering and betrayal.

Everyone says I’m crazy.
My husband, Adrien, is Ashmont College’s most esteemed professor—suave, composed, and highly logical. I, on the other hand, am an investigative journalist whose nerves are fried by looming deadlines and too much caffeine. Yet, I insist there’s a woman who shares my exact face, who crawls out of our bedroom mirror every night and slips into my husband’s bed.
Our security cameras always "happen" to glitch at the crucial moments. My son avoids me like I’m a monster, and my neighbors claim they cheerfully greeted "me" in the driveway a few days ago—even though I don't even own a vintage pink dress.
Adrien has started dropping phrases like "psych evaluation" and "sole custody." If I let this drag on any longer, he’s going to personally commit me to a psych ward.
So tonight, I lied about flying to Chicago. Instead, I’m hiding in my own study—waiting for that identical face to crawl out of the mirror one more time.

I spent fifteen years taking beatings in the Bronx hellhole — beatings meant for my mother.
She's a Manhattan heiress now. Chanel suits, a daughter on her arm, and eyes full of disgust whenever they land on my hollowed-out frame.
"You're just like your disgusting father. A sewer rat. You've always reeked of something rotten."
What she doesn't know: on that rainy night fifteen years ago, I wrapped my arms around that man's legs and let him kick me half to death, so she could run.
What she also doesn't know: the tumor in my stomach has spread. I won't survive the winter.
I'd made my peace with dying alone, quietly, so I wouldn't disturb the perfect life she'd built. I swallowed the blood rising in my throat and started walking toward the dark.
Then came the dinner party, a few months later. Her daughter shoved me off a second-floor balcony.
I hit the ground at her feet like a broken doll. Dark red blood flooded across her white heels.
I watched the color drain from her face. With the last breath I had, I apologized.
"Don't be scared. This piece of garbage won't dirty your eyes anymore."

At my engagement dinner, my fiancé asked me to sign the prenup that killed me once before.

Last time, Adrian smiled, kissed my hand, and promised I would never be alone again. Three weeks later, debt collectors came for money I had never borrowed, black veins crawled under my skin, and his dying mother walked out of hospice in pearls.

This time, I turned to the second page first.

My name was already printed there.

Beside it was a date that had not happened yet.

Under it was another bride’s name.

A woman declared dead twenty-three years ago.

The day college decisions came out, my parents bought my twin sister a Porsche.
It was my eighteenth birthday too. Nobody brought it up. I stood in the doorway in my diner uniform while the whole room sang her name.
That night the four of them went out to dinner to celebrate her. The car only sat four, so my father handed me a hundred dollars and told me to order myself something at home.
Four days later, six thousand four hundred dollars vanished from my account. Two years of washing dishes, gone to her sorority dues. My mother's name was on the account, so it wasn't even illegal.
I didn't scream and I didn't beg. I went upstairs and clicked Accept on the full ride to MIT that had been sitting in my inbox for three days.
Nobody in that house ever wanted me. So I booked a one-way ticket, cut myself out of the family photo, and left my key on the shoe rack.
I wasn't coming back. Not for graduation. Not for any of them.

Foxes are born to bless their mates, unlocking their bloodline and putting them on the throne of the Beast King.

In my last life, the Golden Lion prince Rein picked me, and my sister Lilith got stuck marrying Austin, the black dragon everyone steered clear of.

Then Austin's bloodline woke up and he took the throne, and Lilith rode his coattails straight into a crown.

I threw everything I had into blessing Rein and it never worked. He blamed me for every failure, dug my core out with his own hands, and tossed me into a cell like trash, leaving me there to rot.

Now I'm back, and at the mating ceremony, Rein walks right past me and takes Lilith's hand instead.

That's when I know. He's been reborn too.

But he has no idea. It was never my fault the blessing failed. He was never going to hold power, no matter who blessed him. That throne was never his to take.

My twin sister and I were born on the same day. She got the love. I got the debt.
Some doctor told my parents I stole Colette's immune system in the womb, and after that, the rule was simple: every time she got sick, I had to hurt worse. Fever meant the basement. Below freezing, no blanket, no socks, door padlocked from the outside.
I was seventeen and I weighed under seventy pounds. My teeth were coming loose. My hair was falling out.
Then, on the coldest night of the year, something moved behind the cracked mirror in the basement. A man in a tailcoat. He said he could give me anything, as long as I could pay.
All I wanted was a blanket and a piece of bread.
He asked what I had left to trade.
I didn't have anything. So I offered him my last years.

I inherited my mother’s breathtaking beauty, while my sister was cursed with our father’s plain, vulgar looks.
Consumed by jealousy, she married early and settled into a mundane life, while I was kept entirely imprisoned by our mother—forbidden to date, forbidden to marry.
Whenever I brought a boyfriend home, my mother would take him into that mysterious locked bathroom.
Every single man who walked out of there would have glazed eyes and a flushed look of utter ecstasy. Then, without fail, they would coldly abandon me. Even the man who swore to marry me completely succumbed—to the point where he was having sex with my mother in the garden in broad daylight!
What’s even more bizarre is that whenever any female relative stepped into that bathroom, they came out looking at me with vicious hatred, joining forces to spit on me.
Betrayed by everyone and pushed to the brink, I decided to flee this demonic house in the dead of night.
But the moment I peeked through the crack of the door and finally caught a glimpse inside that bathroom, the blood in my veins turned to ice.
Only then did I horrifyingly realize the true reason my mother was willing to destroy my entire life...

I never imagined that the most humiliating secret of my life would be laid bare in a flimsy tent in the middle of nowhere.

Even less did I imagine that the person witnessing my unraveling would be Sebastian. He’s the CEO of a top-tier conglomerate, my direct boss, and, most damningly, my ex’s stepfather.

A freak accident left us stranded in the jungle late at night. Inside that cramped, suffocating tent, the air felt scorching, almost unbearable. Worst of all, in my rush to leave, I’d forgotten to bring the medication that suppresses my “craving disorder.”

When that sickening desire surged through me like a tidal wave, when his body heat pressed against my back through his shirt, I could only bite my lip hard, teetering on the edge of shame and instinct.

“Mr. Blackwood, please… stay away from me.”

In my past life, I was shoved into oncoming traffic by my husband's widowed cousin, Isabella.
"Why do you get the perfect husband and the Romano fortune? Go to hell!"
I died, and my unborn child died with me. Up until my last breath, I thought she killed me out of purely manic, bitter jealousy.
When I opened my eyes, I was back at that exact crosswalk, rewound to the second she was about to push me.
Only this time, I stepped aside.
And I finally learned the truth. She wasn't just an envious widow—she was my husband's secret lover. And the one who paid the million-dollar bounty for my murder to steal my mafia empire was the "flawless" man sleeping in my bed.

A horrific car crash left me paralyzed.
The doctors said I'd never walk again. With no family left, my Aunt Martha and Uncle Thomas took me to their isolated farmhouse.
They cared for me, promising their treatments would help me walk again. After everything I'd been through, I thought I'd finally found safety.
Until today, when the feeling in my legs suddenly came back—but something told me not to tell them.

I was dragged to the stand of the MRI Memory Court by my own flesh and blood.

Their demand? To forcibly extract my kidney to keep their uremic adopted daughter alive.

A guilty verdict meant losing not just my bodily autonomy, but my freedom for the rest of my life.

Bathed in the global spotlight, my parents performed as tragic heroes, while their adopted saint cried a river of deceit.

They thought they had cornered the perfect victim, waiting for the world to send me to the slaughter.

But the moment the memory holograms ignited and reality bled through, the hunters instantly became the hunted.

I am Nerissa Calvino, the illegitimate daughter of the Vespucci mafia family—a stain on their pristine name.
All I ever wanted was a quiet life, spent in the arms of Carmine, a simple doctor. But my half-sister, Renata, fell terminally ill and was declared infertile. To preserve the alliance between the Vespucci and Arcuri families, a filthy transaction was struck: I was to be the surrogate for Renata’s fiancé, Silvano, bearing the heir that would bind their syndicates together.
They threatened Carmine’s life. To save him, I had to spit venom, shredding our love to pieces with my own hands.
In public, Silvano was the perfect, doting fiancé to my sister. But in the dark, he locked me away, claiming my body with ruthless gravity.
When news of my pregnancy broke, the entire estate rejoiced. Only I remained trapped in a living nightmare.
Torn between a past I couldn’t return to and a forbidden entanglement I couldn't escape, I wondered: would I ever reclaim my own life?

On the third day after my death, Massimo got the call.
His arm was around another woman. He didn't even flinch.
"Dead is dead," he said. "Burn her, then call me."
He came to the crematorium two hours late. He took my ashes, dropped them on the floor, and stepped on them like they were dirt.
"Tell Tess," he said, "if she's still alive, she can crawl back and beg. If she's really dead, I'll dig her up and flog the corpse myself."
I was right there, screaming without a voice.
Later, he pulled out his phone and called my number. It went straight to voicemail.
"Tess Reinhardt," he said, his jaw tight. "If you don't pick up, you're dead to me."
He still didn't know.
I was already dead.
And he was the only one who would never believe it.

When my Alpha told me a rogue faction was going to destroy our Pack, I volunteered as a hostage to keep him safe.
Three years in a cage. Branded with silver. Broken like a feral. Every rogue in that compound had me. The only thing that kept me alive was a toxic root that numbed the pain — and was slowly killing me from the inside.
Then my Alpha showed up and told me the truth.
There was never any threat. He'd staged the whole thing — hired the rogues, built the compound. Because I'd embarrassed his precious Cora in front of the Pack, and he needed me to "learn my place."
Now he wanted me back. Wanted to make me his Luna again.
But I wasn't the same woman who walked into that cage. And the truth about what happened to me there?
He didn't believe a word of it.
Not until I was already dead.

"911, what's your emergency?"
"I'm... handcuffed to a towel rack." Humiliation nearly swallowed me whole.
Fifteen minutes later, LAFD kicked down my door—and the man standing in the wreckage was the last person on earth I wanted to see me like this.
Leon Crawford. My ex. The one I broke up with three years ago.
He didn't cut me loose. He circled my apartment like a predator, his jaw tightening with every wine glass, every stray jacket he found.
"Where's the guy who did this to you?" he growled.
There was no guy. But how do I explain the lie I told him three years ago—that I'd fallen for someone else?

There's a heavy iron door at the end of the hall. Anyone who steps inside returns with eyes full of hatred. That’s all it took for the basement to turn my gentle fiancé into a predator and my loyal best friend into an enemy. Now, I'm trapped with a mother who claims the violence is all in my head. I have to open that door.

He broke down the morgue door, his guttural scream echoing off the cold tiles as he yanked open drawer after drawer.

"Emily!"

Ethan's hands shook violently as he pulled it open. She lay inside, a white sheet draped over her face. With trembling fingers, he peeled back the fabric. Her face was paper-white, lips bloodless, her eyelashes casting faint shadows. So still.

This wasn't the Emily he knew. The Emily he knew could smile, could cry, could clumsily try to warm his frozen heart. But now, she was just a corpse. A corpse because of him.

"Cancer... stage four..." he whispered, drowning in a tidal wave of panic.

He remembered all those times she had clutched her stomach in agony, and he had mocked her. He remembered demanding she give her heart to his lover. He remembered her final silent words through the surgical glass: "I hate you."

"AHHH—!!" A raw scream tore from his throat. He slammed his fist into the metal drawer, blood blooming across his knuckles.

He collapsed beside her, pulling her stiff, freezing body into his arms. She was so light. Like holding air.

"Emily, I was wrong. I was so wrong," he choked out, crying for the first time in years. "Wake up. Hit me. Hate me. I'm begging you..."

But death is the most absolute silence of all. How far will a man go when he realizes he murdered his only salvation?

I loved Julian for ten years, carving every sweat-stained day into my love for him.
He once said I shined brighter than any gold medal.
Yet in five short minutes, he handed my dream, my glory, and my whole world to a scheming transfer girl.
Betrayed, discarded, and broken on the fencing strip, I lost my first love and everything I fought for.
Until the retired cold Olympic champion stepped out of the dark midnight shadows.
He offered me hellish training and a sharp blade of revenge.
I buried my soft heart, handed over my soul, and vowed to make every traitor pay.

Ninety-nine times.

I was sent to the punishment chamber ninety-nine times by my mafia don fiancé.

Each time, he watched through bulletproof glass with cold, detached eyes—watching me being deprived of sleep, injected with drugs, tortured until I was barely clinging to life.

"Elara, you're paying for what you did to the Mancuso family."

For the sake of sweet, innocent Yvette—his precious savior—he personally destroyed everything I had.

After the ninety-ninth time, the doctor handed me a critical condition notice. I stopped begging, signed the confession, and vanished completely with my broken body.

The result? When the truth finally came to light, the ruthless don went completely insane.

Ten years ago, my mate faked his death in the war and ran off with his childhood sweetheart.
No goodbye. No contact since.
All he left me were two things — a debt of six hundred and eighty thousand, and a notice declaring him lost, stamped four years later by people who'd never met him.
The bank took our den. I moved into a shared burrow-flat at the edge of the settlement.
Three jobs after hours. Sold blood. Scrubbed latrines. Tested tonics for the healers until my nose stopped working right.
Ten years to pay off the debt. A desk at the Missing and Fallen Registry Office, once the ceasefire finally came.
My first case file was a man the law had already declared dead.
He said he'd been young and reckless. Walked out. Never looked back.
Now his family's land was due a war reparations payout, and he needed his name restored to collect it.
I stared at the name on the form. Recognized it instantly.
Smiled.
"Insufficient documentation. Application denied."

Oscar winner Adrian Pierce announced his divorce at midnight.

Hours later, his ex-wife ended a ten-thousand-word farewell with one line for me:

Claire Sutton, you won.

Adrian is yours.

By breakfast, half the internet wanted to know why I'd destroyed their marriage.

I wanted to know, too.

After all, I'd been secretly married for eight years.

Why would I want her ex-husband?

In my first life, my fiancé helped his sister frame me for a fatal hit-and-run.

I went to prison, my mother died begging for my freedom, and the lawyer who tried to save me lost everything.

When I woke up on the afternoon of the crash, I didn't run from the police.

I made sure they arrested me first.

The day I presented as an omega, I caught my boyfriend cheating.
Then my first heat hit early.
With no suppressants left, I had only one person to ask for help: Adrian Holt—my infuriatingly perfect alpha roommate.
“Do you have a suppressant?”
Adrian glanced at my tear-streaked face.
“Actually,” he said slowly, “I’m out.”
Desperate, I made him an offer neither of us could take back.
“Then bite me. Just a temporary mark.”
What I didn’t know was that Adrian had plenty of suppressants.
And nothing about the way he wanted me was temporary.

“I, Alpha Daniel Caldwell, reject you, Amber Osborne, as my mate.”
On the day of my wedding, my destined mate, Alpha Daniel, publicly severed our bond.
And then, he completed his marriage registration with Camelia Hodges.
As the crowd erupted into mocking laughter and ridiculed me, Beta Theodore West stepped forward, pulling out a diamond ring. With heartfelt sincerity, he proposed to me.
Even if he wasn’t my fated mate.
Feeling moved, I nodded and consented to marry him. When I was seven months pregnant, I was ambushed by a rogue wolf pack. In the end, Theodore arrived with his army, saving my life.
When I regained consciousness, he was sitting beside me, his eyes filled with sorrow. He told me that the baby hadn’t made it and that I would never be able to have pups again.
Devastated, I broke down. He wrapped his arms around me, and with tears streaming down his face, Theodore apologized for not being able to protect me. He swore to stay by my side forever.

I thought I was the Jones family's "legitimate wife."
Until the day I saw it with my own eyes, my husband, Carter, resting his hand on my stepsister Nora's bump belly, gentle like he was cradling the future.
Everyone told me to be "big-heated": when the baby was born, they'd put it under my name, make him call me Mom, because the family needed an "heir."
Even the private doctor they hired announced it in front of everyone—steady heartbeat, and from the ultrasound, it looked like a boy.
I didn't cry and didn't make a scene.
I just picked up the phone and told my lawyer to initiate the divestment.
Twenty-four hours later, Carter's cards were frozen, his projects got their loans yanked, and assets started getting seized—
That's when he finally understood: he hadn't betrayed a wife.
He'd betrayed the lifeline of the entire family.
But what I really wanted to know was—
When he dropped to his knees and begged me to come back, would I tell him— I had already picked out his grave?

In a world where magic demands perfection, Elara Voss has always been the forbidden flame, her wild, untamed power a dangerous secret that no coven rule can contain.

When she collides with Cael Draven, a devastatingly handsome human scholar whose very presence should shatter magic, everything changes. Instead of chaos, his touch awakens a breathtaking harmony: her power stabilizes into radiant beauty, glowing threads of fate binding them in ways no ancient law can explain.

As a dangerous coven hunt forces them into hiding, Elara and Cael discover they are far more than outcasts, they are the missing pieces of an ancient, passionate destiny. In moonlit glades and enchanted ruins, their slow-burning connection ignites into something fierce and undeniable: stolen kisses that spark starlight, protective embraces that make the world tremble, and nights where their bodies and magic entwine as one.

But the deeper their forbidden love grows, the more powerful forces rise against them. With jealous rivals, ancestral spirits, and a ruthless coven closing in, Elara must decide: cling to the world that rejected her, or surrender to the man who makes her feel truly whole and risk everything for a love written in the stars.

In a tale of fated mates, sensual magic, and heart-pounding adventure, one wild heart and one steady soul will rewrite the rules of their world... if their passion doesn’t consume it first.

"'You shattered my heart into a million pieces, and now you're asking me to pick them up? You crushed my trust, and now you want me to hand it back to you? I'm still finding pieces of myself in the ruins you left behind. How can I give you another chance when I'm still rebuilding myself from the last one? I'd rather drown in my tears than drown in your love.” Amy Snapped at Ryan.

Cheated upon by her fiancee with her step sister, heartbroken Amy Carter found herself in a club where she drank herself into a stupor, leading to a one night stand with an unknown stranger. Pregnant and chased out of the house with nowhere to go, her life went downhill. Amy left the country to avoid further humiliation, promising to do just anything to nurture the kid in her stomach.

However, she came back with her twin after six years. Finally, Billionaire Redford who had been in search of her, his one next stand from years ago, saw his chance to be with her and claim his children.

Will Amy agree to the rekindling
and find happiness from the one night of mistake and settle for the stranger she had one night stand with?

Or do you think her ex boyfriend will win her over again after betraying her with her step sister?

(She's my niece. I know this is a line I should never cross.)

The first time we met was at her grandfather's funeral. She was trembling in black lace, and all I wanted was to pull her close and never let go.
The second time, she showed up at my door soaking wet, the night her fiancé shattered her. I peeled the wet clothes from her skin and told myself I was just being a good uncle.
I lied.
The third time, she whispered we shouldn't. I swallowed every word right off her tongue.
The fourth time, she stopped pretending she wanted to leave.
What she doesn't know is that every favor had a price. Every touch in the dark was a thread, pulling tighter. Every rescue, another lock on the cage I built just for her.
When she uncovers the truth between her fiancé and her stepsister, something clicks.
The obsession. The possession. The way he owns her and calls it love.

She's felt this before.
Because the man who swore to protect her plays the very same game — only he plays it in her bed, and he's far, far better at it.

"You ruined my life… you were the one my stepsister used to ruin it, right? I know you're both devils!" Amy cried, collapsing to the ground as her heart shattered into pieces.

"I was at the bar that night… I didn't intend for anything to happen. I'm sorry. We have to be together for the sake of our kids," Redford said, pleading on his knees.

"Be together? I can never be with a man like you. My children aren't yours. Give me my kids, and let's part as if we never met," Amy's eyes were fixed on the floor, her tone steady.

Cheated on and humiliated, Amy spiraled into despair, leading to a reckless one-night stand with a stranger. Pregnant and abandoned, she fled the country to protect her child, vowing to survive at all costs.

Five years later, Amy returns with her twin, only to find that the stranger from that night is none other than billionaire Redford—now searching for her… and for the children he never knew he would claim.

Relentless, unpredictable, and impossible to resist, Redford will stop at nothing to make Amy his. But with her ex-fiancé still in the picture, Amy must decide: can she trust the love born from one reckless night… or will the past destroy her chance at happiness?

Sold to Be Loved by the Mafia Prince is a dark, emotionally charged New Adult romance set in a world where power is inherited, trust is a weapon, and love is the most dangerous game of all.

When seventeen-year-old Malia sacrifices her freedom to save her father, she is thrust into the violent world of the Italian Mafia—betrothed to Blaine DeCavalcante, the cold and untouchable Capo Bastone. Held at the luxurious yet haunting Crimson Garden estate, Malia must navigate a new life of control, secrets, and manipulation, all under the watchful eye of her fake fiancé’s double, Marcello.

But Marcello is more than just a stand-in. He’s her shadow, her tormentor, her unexpected comfort—and the one man she can’t figure out. As she battles fear, growing attraction, and the terrifying reality of her arranged future, Malia begins to uncover truths buried beneath Mafia loyalty, violent legacies, and the twisted lines between love and possession.

Told in alternating points of view, Sold to Be Loved by the Mafia Prince blends psychological tension, emotional vulnerability, and slow-burning obsession. It's a story about identity, power, and the impossible choice between surrendering to your fate—or rewriting it from the inside.

This is not a love story.
This is a war.
And the battlefield is her heart.

I was nothing. A rejected mate. A worthless omega. A slave forced to endure the cruelty of my pack. Alpha Ryker, the man destined to love me, cast me aside without a second thought. I wasn’t just betrayed by him but I was also betrayed by him and my step sister. I was left to suffer, to break, to fade into nothingness. Until he came. Kaiden. The rogue. The monster. The man whispered about in nightmares and spoken of in fear. They say he’s cursed, that his very existence is a death sentence. Packs tremble at his name. Alphas bow to his wrath. And now… I belong to him. I was stolen in the dead of night, ripped from one prison and thrown into another. But Kaiden doesn’t just want a captive. He wants a wife. A mate. Me.

At our engagement party, Eli demands I sign a hundred-thousand-dollar check to bail out his first love, Aila.

I cave, pouring everything I have into paving the way for his future.

But he pays off a nurse to slip me abortion pills, manipulates the training equipment to crush my pelvis, and causes me to hemorrhage and miscarry.

While I lie in the hospital fighting for my life, he spreads rumors about my promiscuity, burns my cherished nautical collection to ashes, and scatters them over Aila's grave.

He steps on my spine to get his acceptance letter to the top maritime academy, trading my life for his future.

After gaining power, he frames my brother, ruining his promotion to captain, and eventually tramples my entire shipping family under his feet.

I die full of resentment, only to wake up to Eli slamming his hand on the table and screaming at me. Aila is trapped in an underground club! Sign this check right now! If I don't get the money to bail her out, she's dead tonight!

In six years of marriage, I sacrificed everything for this family.
But my husband, Arthur, poured all his time and energy into another woman. Even worse, my own children wished for his mistress to be their mother.
When I realized I had been completely discarded—left truly alone in this house—something changed.
My eyes fell upon my mother’s Nobel Prize medal, and a fire ignited within me. A resolve of steel hardened my heart: From this moment on, I would live for myself!
Husband? Divorce him. Children? I was done with them.
From now on, I would be the master of my own destiny!
I returned to the laboratory, commanded the podium, and claimed the very same honors my mother once held.
But when I finally shoved the divorce papers into Arthur’s hands, his world—and the children’s—collapsed.
His initial flash of rage instantly crumbled. With bloodshot eyes, he fell to his knees before me, his voice hoarse and broken.
"Irene... I’m begging you... please don't leave me..."

At her Moon Bond Ceremony, Alpha Ryder Blackthorn rejects Lyra Ashbourne in front of his pack. The moment he does, the Moon Goddess speaks over the arena: The Alpha has rejected my Queen.
Hunted by her own people, Lyra flees into the Forbidden Forest expecting to die. she's found by the Lycan Kings wolf, and when he kneels before her, she learns the truth. She's the last heir of the Moon Throne, a bloodline everyone believes died with her mother's murder twenty years ago.
Now hunted by assassins, caught between rival kingdoms, and stalked by a thousand year old conspiracy determined to keep any Moon Queen from ever rising again. Lyra must master a power no one alive fully understands, and decides who she can trust, the king who knelt without hesitation, the Alpha who's only beginning to understand what he lost, or enemies still wearing the faces of old friends
She was rejected once, by everyone who was supposed to love her. She will not be owned twice.

I took a submachine gun bullet for Mafia Don Vincenzo Lombardi. I drank poisoned wine for him and bore his heir. To the the entire syndicate, I was his loyal cleaner and lucky talisman.
But the moment he seized ultimate power, he brought her home—my "pure and fragile" adopted sister, Vanessa.
For her, Vincenzo shattered my knees, handed over my title as Donna, and turned my own son against me. He dismissed my broken heart, claiming I was being petty and that she was merely "joining the family."
Yet, the innocent Vanessa was a monster in disguise. She ruthlessly slit her own mother’s throat—the woman who raised me—and locked me in a sub-zero freezer.
When Vincenzo finally pried the heavy iron door open, there was no pity in his eyes. He only offered a cold command: crawl and beg his pregnant new Donna for forgiveness.
Wiping the bloody ice crystals from my lips, I looked at the man I had loved with my life, and rasped my final words: "Vincenzo... I'm dying."

Ethan and I have been in a secret marriage for four years. For the sake of his white moonlight, Chloe, he asked me to sign the divorce agreement eight times.
When we first got together, he held me gently and promised to make our marriage public, but he abandoned me again and again for her.
During the first divorce, I stood in the cold wind holding flowers and cried bitterly. On the sixth divorce, he was accompanying her to celebrate her birthday.
My repeated concessions only brought me repeated hurt and betrayal from him. Until this time, I took the initiative to pack my luggage. He thought I would wait for him to remarry, but little did he know that this time, I would leave completely and never look back.

I used to think I was the luckiest woman in the world.

Married to my first love, Matteo Rossi—mafia boss—with an adorable son.

Until that afternoon. Luca was running a fever, whining for cake from that shop across town—a four-hour round trip.

I hesitated.

Matteo immediately chimed in: "Go ahead, babe. Don't worry, I got him."

I grabbed the car keys and turned. Before leaving, I glanced back—he was kneeling beside Luca's bed, his large hand gently stroking our son's burning forehead.

What a perfect fucking picture.

Until I heard that GODDAMN surveillance recording.

I never expected to find a man tied to a chair, bloody and barely breathing, in my billionaire husband’s forbidden basement—so I did the only logical thing: I stole my husband's money, untied the gorgeous stranger, and ran for our lives.

For six years, I thought my husband Augustus was perfect. I was his princess. But my curiosity got the best of me. When I opened that heavy wooden door to the east wing, the illusion shattered. I didn't just find a torture chamber; I found Brad.

Since that night, it's been a blur of cheap motels, fake names, and colored contacts. I traded my designer dresses for a pocket knife I clutch in my fist every time I close my eyes. I sewed up his brutal stab wounds with my own shaking hands. We are bound by trauma, running from a mafia boss who will slaughter us both if he ever finds us.

Brad is broken, scarred, and terrified of the dark. But as his wounds healed, the terrified stranger turned into my fierce protector. The nights of holding him through his night terrors slowly turned into nights of tangled limbs and breathless moans. He became my entire world.

We finally found a crappy apartment in Arkansas. A place to breathe. But yesterday, the coil wire on our car was deliberately ripped off. And last night, when I woke up in the pitch black, the front door I swore I locked was standing wide open...

Anna Green walks in on her boyfriend cheating, only to realize she's not the only witness. A mysterious man stands beside her, watching the same scene unfold. He leans in and murmurs, "Want revenge?"

That night, she loses a boyfriend and picks up a husband.

What begins as a deal between strangers soon turns into something far more complicated. She thought it was just about benefits. He gave her exclusive love.

Now, tangled in a marriage she never expected, Anna wonders who's really in control, especially when the man she married refuses to play by the rules.

Synopsis/Blurb:
After a devastating divorce with the man she had been married to for over three years, Rachel thought her life was over. Her family disowned her, they wanted nothing to do with her anymore and she couldn't blame them.

She had just divorced David Hart, one of the top successful bachelors in the country and heir to the Hart industries. But they would never understand that she didn't divorce him, he divorced her after she caught him cheating on her with her god-damned best friend!

Rachel was just about to end everything by jumping off a bridge when she was saved by the most unexpected person. The boy she once bullied severally in highschool because he always wore ugly glass and was from a poor background, how come that glass make him so hot now?

Why was he helping her get revenge on ex-husband who is trying to make her life even more miserable? And most important how did he get so handsome?

What exactly does he want from her?

...
"No, you must want something, anything. If you can really help me get revenge on David and Lana, I can't just let you do it for free."

Ethan went quiet for a while.

I held my breath waiting for what his request might be.

If it was something money could buy, I'll try my best to get it for him even though I was somehow broke right now.

"You're right I do want something." He said after thinking.

"What?" I asked slowly.

"Until you get your revenge on David, Lana and every other person you want, you will live here."

What! I screamed internally.

"What are you saying?"

Ethan moved his face closer to mine that our nose almost touched.

"I want you to be with me!"

I gave him everything.
My heart, my trust, my future. Four years of love, devotion, and blind loyalty. And what did I get in return? Betrayal. Humiliation. Loss.
Simon Smith chose my sister over me… and in that one selfish moment, he shattered my world. He left me broken, alone, and with a secret wound no one could see. My son… gone. My life… thrown into chaos.
But I refuse to let him have the final say. I refuse to be the woman who waits, who cries, who begs for scraps of a love that was never mine to begin with.
Now, it's my turn to reclaim everything. My strength. My freedom. My heart. And one man steady, loyal, and unwavering is about to remind me that love isn't just about giving it's about being valued, truly cherished, and never underestimated.
Some men think they can break a woman and keep her in pieces. Some men think they can betray her and expect her to return. Simon is about to find out the truth: some hearts heal… and some never belong to him again.


"I missed you, Anika."
"I have never seen you before in my life, sir."
"You think you can just leave me and replace me? You are mine!"
"Did your mother not teach you that grabbing random strangers is wrong?"
"Anika…"
"Stay away from me."