970 Book(s) Related to are you happy now novel werewolf

It took her five years to follow her own wishes and marry him. Yet he sold her to the Resorts World LA, killed their baby with his own hands...... What he did reduced her to the unprecedented misery and uncountable unhappiness. However, when she finally got rid of her love for him, which was like a poisonous thorn, he changed his mind and begged her to stay as if he"s gone mad. But for her, none of them mattered--love or reputation. He"d rather die than crawl back to the grave he built for her!

I thought I was the perfect wife and mother, until I heard my husband outside his office, laughing, calling me a "prison warden" and planning to use our daughter as cover while he ran off to Tuscany with his grad student.

Everything fell apart. Then my daughter, in front of everyone: "That's just our annoying nanny."

I tried to hold on to what was left of our family, but my daughter shoved me down the stairs. I lost the baby, and my husband just checked his watch while I bled out on the floor.

They locked me in and left for Italy.

Alone in the hospital, they told me I'd lost the baby and had "memory damage."

Now they're back, expecting the same obedient wife.

She's gone.

And I'm done loving them.

I was six years old when Mom took my brother and me by the hand, leading us into a mansion that looked like a palace. She told us this was our new beginning, after all the hardships we'd been through. But no one warned me that this so-called better life would mean giving up everything I had.

My scholarships, my prom dress, even my Stanford acceptance letter—they all turned into bargaining chips just to keep my stepfather and his daughter Sienna happy. Then, the night before my wedding, they even asked my fiancé to "temporarily" give himself to her as well.

I've always been the one giving everything, pouring myself out until there's nothing left, yet I've never heard the words, "You're enough." If love means endless sacrifice, why am I never the one on the receiving end?

Maybe only when I vanish completely will they remember my name—for the first and last time.

That night, I was dragged into a parking lot and beaten until my hands could never hold a scalpel again.

I thought it was random. Until I heard my own brother and fiancé talking—

"Those thugs went too far, but the result works out, doesn't it? This time, the award will go to Charlotte."

Charlotte. The "poor orphan" my family adopted.

For twelve years, she stole my papers, my opportunities, my glory. And the two men I trusted most handed her everything on a silver platter.

They called me spoiled. Selfish. Difficult.

They even believed I started the fire that killed our parents twelve years ago.

But here's the truth: Charlotte started that fire. I was the one who dragged them out.

They thanked the wrong sister. For twelve years.

Now they want me dead.

Fine. Let Penelope Ashworth die.

I stood by him through the grief of losing his first love, serving as his substitute wife for five years, giving birth to two pups, and giving him my all. Yet none of that mattered the moment his white moonlight said, “I’m back.”

For his first love, he forced me to kneel and beg for mercy to confess to a crime I never committed—only then did he tell me it was just a dummy of my brother!
But his first love was the one who told me she’d secretly swapped my real brother for the dummy long before.

My husband favored her, my own pups turned against me. They saw me as an enemy while worshiping his white moonlight like a treasure.

My heart died. I divorced him and fled far away. Only then did they wake up to the truth: his white moonlight was a venomous witch, and I was the one who’d been wronged and loved him truly.

"You're nothing but a traitor's daughter."
Donovan's growl vibrated against her skin as he pinned her beneath him, his weight unrelenting. His breath was hot, ragged—hungry.
"You don't get to judge me," he hissed, his lips brushing the curve of her ear. His fingers traced a slow, torturous path down her spine, possessive and deliberate.
"Every inch of you is mine. Every shaky breath. Every broken moan."
She shuddered despite herself, yet her core was still wet for him. Only him.
"I own your pleasure, Amanda. And your pain." His grip tightened, forcing her closer. "Never try to run away. There's nowhere in this world you can hide from me."

Overnight, Amanda Porter's life became a nightmare.
Her father—the pack's most beloved Beta—was branded a traitor. And the boy she trusted most?
He was the first to turn on her.
Donovan Reed. The Alpha's son. Her best friend. Her fated mate.
Now he torments her in public. Refuses to acknowledge the bond snapping between them. But he can't stay away. The forbidden heat between them burns hotter than his hatred.
He treats her like a dirty secret. Degrades her like she means nothing. Then pulls her back into the shadows, again and again.
Amanda gave him chance after chance, hoping the boy she loved was still somewhere inside the monster.
But all she got in return were scars.
So she walked away.
What Donovan doesn't know?
Something inside Amanda is waking up. Something ancient. Something powerful.
And when she rises—everyone will regret underestimating her.
She won't just break free.
She'll teach the Alpha's son a lesson so brutal, so searing—
it will burn in his soul forever.

She woke up naked, bound, and on display in a birdcage.

Her husband sat in the front row while strangers bid on her unborn son's organs. He believed the video. The DNA test. The other woman's lies.

They took her baby. They took her mother. They tried to take her mind.

So she let them think she was broken. She smiled through the electric shocks. She bent without breaking. She counted down to the surgery that was supposed to kill her.

But she wasn't counting down to her death.

She was counting down to theirs.

They wanted her heart?

She'll give it to them—still beating, as she becomes their judge, jury, and executioner.

Dark Revenge Romance. CW: non-con, graphic violence, pregnancy loss, captivity. Read with caution.

Five years ago, my ex-boyfriend Jason said coldly when he abandoned me: "Charlotte, you're not worthy of my dreams."

Five years later, when I saw him again, he had become Floreton's tech mogul while I remained a simple sculptor. His new fiancée—a wealthy heiress—sneered at my modest attire: "Someone like you can actually afford to book a top-tier wedding venue?"

She stole my venue, crushed my fingers, and forced me to kneel and apologize: "Say you don't belong here!"

Jason stood by watching coldly, just as indifferent as he was on that rainy night five years ago.

I desperately thought this was my fate, until that familiar, furious voice echoed throughout the entire venue:

"What bastard touched my woman!"

My Bradley had arrived.

This time, I would be the one laughing last.

I was frozen for 100 years due to illness.
One hundred years later, the whole world was ravaged by strange phenomena, and humanity was huddled together in a few small places to survive.
I was awakened from my slumber by the investigation team. I thought I would be killed by the monster as soon as I woke up, but I found that the monster here was my good brother from college.
Besides him, the eerie owner of the barbecue restaurant, the matchmaking ghost who likes to harm people through blind dates, the S-class monstrous ghost in the cemetery... they are all my old friends...
The world a hundred years from now feels strangely familiar...

"Sign it. Save her, and I'll give you anything."
For four years, I was Damian Wright's "invisible wife".
While I played the pauper, he poured his soul into his dying first love. Desperate, he blindly signed a stack of papers to buy the "Gifted Doctor's" time.
He didn't read the fine print. Buried inside was our Divorce Decree.
"Congratulations, Damian," I said, stripping off my surgical mask to reveal the wife he never truly knew. "You're free."
The submissive Amelia is dead.
The legendary "Ghost Surgeon"? That's me.
The blindfolded racing queen "Raven"? Also me.
The shadow behind the global intelligence network? Still me.
I was ready to vanish, but Lucas Sullivan—the titan who makes the Wrights look like peasants—blocked my path.
When Damian tried to reclaim me, Lucas didn't just stop him; he brought an empire to its knees.
"They don't deserve to look at you," Lucas whispered, his touch a lethal mix of protection and obsession. "But if you crave the world, Amelia, I'll burn it down just to hear you say my name."

All Kimberly Callahan wanted was one unforgettable night with the boy she secretly adored—Jason Travolta. What she never expected, however… was to kiss his twin brother. 

A stolen moment behind a mask. A forbidden kiss that tasted too perfect to regret—until a scandalous photo spread across campus, making headlines among the crowd. Now Kimberly finds herself trapped in a fake relationship with Jett Travolta, the twin she was never supposed to touch.

To make matters worse, her mother has just married their father.

Living under the same roof as the Travolta twins was never a part of her plan. Loving one and loathing the other should’ve been easy—until the blurred lines turned into a dangerous spark. 

One kiss changed everything.

Now, she was trapped between two brothers and every step she took brought them closer to dangerous attraction and affections.

But the real question is:

Was it ever truly a mistake… or fate in disguise?

Karen had invested her last penny in the business she had recently established and was eagerly awaiting the promised funds from her benefactor to take it to the next level.
"Maybe he forgot. I should remind him," she thought, and promptly sent a text message: ‘I hate to sound desperate, but my finances are tight.’
After sending the message, she realized she had used the wrong number. She quickly started typing, ‘Please ignore the...’ when an alert popped up on her phone: ‘Five billion dollars transferred to you by Roger Dawson.’
Roger? The first name sent a chill down her spine, but the last name left her puzzled. "Roger? Could it be Tonia's bodyguard?" That was his number, but when did his name change?
Her phone rang immediately, and the name she had feared for months echoed in her ears, his voice filled with emotion yet calm like a winter breeze. "Karen, stay put, I'm on my way to you."
The call ended before she could process it. He was the reason she had fled, refusing to sign the divorce papers.
Her love for him was unrequited, his heart belonging to her adopted sister, but what hurt more was the feeling of being traded between friends like a commodity.
She would rather die than return.

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

As the Chief Delta of Alpha Hunter and his secretly married wife, Kara had always hoped that her dedication would eventually win his heart.
However, everything changed when that rogue girl—Maya—appeared. She is Hunter's Fated mate.
According to their pre-marriage agreement, once Hunter finds his true mate, their marriage will be over.
Just then, Kara discovers that she's pregnant...

Twenty-one times.

I've signed the mate bond with Kael Nightshade, Lord of the Black Panther Clan, twenty-one times.

And dissolved it twenty-one times.

Not because we didn't love each other.

But because every few months, she comes back.

Seraphine. His first love. The angel who shattered her wings saving him, leaving her mind fractured and fragile.

"Seeing the mate mark sends her into psychotic breaks," he'd say, burning the bond from my skin. "I owe her my life."

So I'd erase the mark. Burn the contract. Pretend we were never bound.

The first time, I cried and begged. He backhanded me: "Cut the bullshit. We'll rebond once she's back in the sanatorium."

The thirteenth time, I followed them to a tavern and watched him tenderly kiss the scarred stumps where her wings used to be. When I confronted them, he knocked me down and locked me in enchanted restraints for seven days straight.

Sign. Burn. Erase. An endless cycle I couldn't escape.

Until the twenty-first time.

Fire engulfed the manor. Seraphine and I were trapped in different wings. Kael could only save one of us.

"Kael!" I collapsed at the window, smoke choking my lungs. "I'm pregnant—please—"

He shifted into his panther form and bolted toward her room.

The guards dragged me out thirty minutes later. Third-degree burns across my back, lungs filled with ash, blood pooling beneath me.

No heartbeat.

Kael stood in the safe zone, holding an unscathed Seraphine in his arms. From the moment the flames erupted until they pulled me from the rubble, he never looked back.

Not once.

The twenty-first dissolution was my choice.

There won't be a twenty-second.

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?"

I am the youngest PhD researcher in the Werewolf Alliance—and the creator of the Lunar Phase Suppressor.
That drug has saved countless young wolves who nearly lost themselves during their very first transformation.
On the day I received the Silver Claw Medal, the entire world celebrated me—everyone except my blood-bonded mate.
I rushed back to our northern Dallas villa, hoping to give him the medal as a birthday gift—for him and for our children.
What awaited me was not an embrace, but my daughter Lyra asking in an innocent voice why Emma couldn’t be her mother.
The only one who stood up for me was my son, Luca.
From the very bottom of my drawer, I took out the withdrawal application I had sealed away for years—and signed it along with the divorce papers.
He wanted me, but refused to give me a name.
He couldn’t bear to let me leave, yet shamelessly gave his devotion to someone else.

Evelyn was given the sum of five hundred thousand to leave the family she had always tried so hard to please, because they finally found their real daughter and don't need her anymore.
They've always bullied, abused and humiliated her in the past while she accepts without retaliation because she thought of she continued to break her back to please them, they'll love her one day.
But she was wrong.
She still got thrown out like a stray.
Well, they've just done something that they'll regret all their lives and she can't wait to see them crawling on the floor and begging her for help when they discover who she is.
This story is filled with rollercoasters so buckle up your seat belt for you're about to go on a crazy ride with this bad-ass female lead who won't take rubbish from no-one and won't hesitate to throw back whatever they throw at her.

They were never supposed to be family. And they were never supposed to fall in love.

Stephen has it all, he was the football captain, campus god, and dangerously charming. Hayden? He's the rival to his stepbrother, one who stole his girlfriend out of pure spite.

After an explosive fight lands them both in detention, one impulsive kiss sets off a chain reaction of forbidden desire, brutal self-discovery, and secrets too dangerous to share.

Stephen is bisexual. Hayden is homophobic, or so he claims. But when their mom forces them to share a dorm, the hate turns into heat, and the rivalry into something far more complicated.

They can’t stand each other.
They can’t escape each other.
And the worst part? They don’t want to.

Sneaky kisses, heated tension and jerking off to each other when the other can't hear, they end up in a maze of forbidden desires.

But in a world where football is king and image is everything, loving each other might be the most dangerous play of all.

She was eight months pregnant when he stripped her in a bar full of strangers.

Her baby came early that night. Silent. Still.
He crushed it under his heel and called it garbage.

Then he took her eyes. No anesthesia. Just a scalpel and the other woman's name on his lips.

For three years, he used her broken body — to punish, to breed, to satisfy cravings no one else could touch. She stopped counting the times she bled on his sheets.

But he never asked if the video was real.

It wasn't.
The woman he worships murdered his mother and framed the girl he just destroyed.
And the child he crushed? Every matching chromosome was his.

The truth is coming for him.
He will beg. He will crawl. He will kiss the feet of the woman whose eyes he carved out.

The only question: will she still be alive to watch him fall?

The first thing they took was my baby.

The second was my parents.

The third was my freedom, my eyes, and every reason to live.

My husband gave me to three men on our anniversary. He chained me in a doghouse while his mistress laughed. He fed me my own son’s remains and called it mercy.

He said I was dirty. He said I deserved it.

But the DNA test he trusted was a lie. The video was staged. And the woman he’s about to marry is the one who destroyed us all.

I tried to die. Four times.

Now I’m done trying.

They put a dead woman in the ground. They’re about to find out she brought hell back with her.

My brother ripped out my S-Class Sword Bone and shoved it into his own chest, then stuffed his trash-tier talent, [Shepherd], right into mine.

My fiancée cuddled up in his arms, while my biological father expressionlessly threw me into a chaotic spatial anomaly.
They thought I would rot in that alternate dimension. Little did they know, the trash talent [Shepherd] harbored a hidden evolution: [Outer God Shepherd]. A talent perfectly tailored to enslave the various outer-god monstrosities lurking within the void...

Seven days later, surfing atop a hundred-meter-long Demonic God Train, I smashed backward through a skyscraper. I punched my cheating fiancée, kicked my scumbag father, and pierced my brother’s chest with a single bare hand, ripping out that glowing Sword Bone along with his flesh and sinew.

"Time to pay the interest on the bone you borrowed."

"Phantom, don't blame me for being heartless. This is the Organization's decision." My teammate looked at me coldly. "Cooperate, and you might live. But even if we only take back your corpse... it makes no difference."

Countless infrared lasers locked onto every lethal point on my body.

I am Phantom, the undisputed Queen of the underworld’s deadliest assassins. But because I became too powerful, the Organization deemed me a threat. They wanted me erased.

There was no escape. But...

If you want me dead, prepare to dragged into hell with me.

Yet, after a lethal explosion that should have ended it all, I woke up. I was reborn into the body of a marginalized, bullied high school girl. No one knew that inside this "ugly, bloated" shell lived a monster.

I was once the nightmare that made the entire underworld tremble. I still am.

To those who bullied me, humiliated me, or tried to kill me: I will pay you back tenfold—no, a hundredfold.

“You want me to share the studio with you?”

“Only if you can handle me… and what I want.”

“And what exactly do you want?”

“Everything… on my terms… starting with you.”

When the school decides to shut down the art studio to make room for hockey expansion, Elara Quinn refuses to accept it.

Landon Hayes the captain, the hero, the face of the team is supposed to be her enemy. His world is ice rinks and roaring crowds. Hers is paint-splattered floors and quiet determination.

But when Elara storms into his territory demanding answers, she doesn’t expect him to offer a deal.

Share the building. Work together. Rebrand the team.

It’s supposed to be temporary.

Yet the more they clash, the more the tension shifts from rivalry to something undeniable.

Saving her studio was the goal.

Falling for the boy on the other side of the fight?
That was never part of the plan.

Ezra never expected anything good from the world.
The world made that clear the day they found him beside a well. No name. No people. No explanation for why his presence made grown men uneasy.
He expected to die in that village eventually.
He was almost right.
Now he's running. Carrying something the empire isn't ready for. Hunted by things that shouldn't exist this far from the wall. Awakened with abilities even the system refuses to explain.
The village always said there was something wrong with him.
They had no idea.
It's the Second Age of Monsters and maybe the real monsters were never just the ones with claws.

This was supposed to be a romantic night celebrating my fifth wedding anniversary with my husband.
Until Reddit pushed the same post to me four times in a row: [Tonight at 11:00 PM, the female CEO of Aetheria Tech will have her throat brutally slit]
I didn’t buy it. With a net worth in the billions, the line of people wanting me dead could stretch all the way down Wall Street.
Until I clicked on the attached photo—it was the exact sofa I was sitting on right now.
I checked the time. Half an hour left.
If I scream right now, will I even make it to eleven?

My husband’s long-lost true love returns to our pack celebration—and she’s my twin sister.
For three years, I’ve been the unwanted replacement Luna, married to Alpha Brad after his mate Ariana supposedly died. I endured his coldness and the pack’s contempt in silence.
Then Ariana suddenly came back.
Brad abandoned me at once, doting on her and giving her my place as Luna.
My sister acts weak and hurt in public, but mocks me in private. I found another wolf’s fresh mate mark on her neck—she’s hiding a secret.
When I tried to tell the truth, she faked a fall and framed me.
Brad believed her over me. He forced me to kneel and apologize, threatening me with cruel punishment.
I realize he will never choose me. Now I’m pregnant with his child, and I’ve made up my mind. Tomorrow, I will leave them all behind.

Clara Hughs is an orphan who was working in a bar as a waitress where rich men come to pick up girls. She encountered a strange handsome man at the club one night, Ragnor Usiku, who rescued her from trouble with her employer. Everything changed, as Clara Hughs found herself drawn to this man. Will Clara love him the same when she discovers who he is? Will their love bring them peace or will it create obstacles for them? To know more read "Will You Still Love Me The Same"

When The Wrong One Loves You Right
Enemies make the best lovers...

Evelyn Rodriguez needs to find who murdered her sister. But her only suspect is sexy as hell and every kind of wrong. Suddenly Evelyn's not sure if it's determination that's got her pulse racing–or something altogether less appropriate. Worse of all, she has to live under the same roof with him.

Supernova Jason Lyndon, burnt by experience and casual flings is torn between taking the offer of the man he despises the most or the woman that annoys him the most. Either way, he wasn't about to go to jail for something he didn't do. He realized too late chosing Evelyn's offer was a terrible idea. She didn't only arouse all his sexual antennas but started pulling down the firm wall– he's spent years building– around his heart.

CRIME. SUSPENSE. ROMANCE.

Alpha Jericho rejected his mate before, but now he was ready to claim what has always belonged to him.


Alpha Jericho has been hiding in the shadows, biding his time, and now he was prepared to reclaim the woman who completely changed his life.

However, while he was away, a shifter he once trusted has taken control of his territory. He rules with fear and corruption, and Aria is standing by his side. To make matters worse, there's a hidden enemy waiting in the wings, but his mate refuses to heed his warnings.

In my past life, under the guise of "testing" my boyfriends, my so-called best friend systematically stole my haute couture, hijacked my identity as a wealthy heiress, and seduced every man I ever dated.

It culminated in the ultimate betrayal: she conspired with my fiancé to drug me, broadcast my private photos at my own wedding, and shove me off a rooftop.

She took absolutely everything from me—even murdering my parents by tampering with their gas line to stage a tragic accident.

But fate gave me a second chance.

My eyes snap open. I’m sitting right back in the VIP suite of that lavish restaurant.

My fiancé has just slid the spiked glass of whiskey right toward my hand.

I silently stare at the swirling ice cubes. Instead of picking it up, I raise my hand and casually sweep the heavy glass to the floor.

Crash.

In this life, I am done playing defense.

Since she is so utterly obsessed with stealing my men, I’ll gladly build a magnificent stage for her performance. I'm going to let her claw her way up, let her believe she has finally reached the absolute peak of high society...

Only to personally watch her plunge into the abyss.

The night I was reborn, my adoptive brother—Viktor Konstantin, the Don of the Chicago Outfit—was poisoned during a negotiation.

In my past life, I loved him desperately. So when the aphrodisiac took hold and he gasped for me to call Liliya, I made a selfish choice. I stayed. I gave myself to him.

She arrived too late. When she saw us together, she ran. Her plane crashed over the Atlantic that same night.

Viktor married me without a word of blame. Until a turf war when our enemies captured me—seven months pregnant, chained up, beaten bloody. I called him, begging for help through my tears.

His answer shattered me: "You want to live? After killing Liliya? You and that bastard don't deserve to breathe. Go to hell, Eve."

I died in that cell. Our daughter died with me.

Now I'm staring into those same drugged eyes again.

This time, I'm making the call.

For as long as I could remember, my family had insisted Vivian needed more because I could take more.
The pony I loved. The occasions meant to celebrate me. Time with my mother. If my twin wanted any of it, I was the one expected to go without.
Our induction into the Mafia Family was meant to be the exception. We were both daughters of Don Moretti. A crown was supposed to be waiting for each of us.
But Vivian's made-to-order crown glittered with both our diamonds, and the one assigned to me was tarnished, its setting bare. At the formal dinner, Father had my place card sent to the bottom of the table for not dressing properly—after I had spent my time crossing Manhattan to fetch Vivian's gown.
They assumed I'd give way, just as I always had.
This time, I canceled my part in the ceremony, filled a single suitcase, and took a flight with no return ticket.
When the Moretti Family assembled under its crest, two crowns were waiting. Only one daughter was prepared to put hers on.

I died the day before my brother Beckett’s state equestrian qualifiers.

Just because Beckett had mistakenly taken sedatives and fallen into a coma, my mother firmly believed that I—a worthless, sickly burden—had deliberately poisoned him out of jealousy to ruin her perfect son's future.

Ignoring my fatal immunodeficiency, knowing that even a microscopic trace of wasp venom would kill me, she dragged me into the abandoned tack room infested with wasp nests and locked the door.

Hundreds of wasps swarmed out. My airway rapidly swelled and closed amidst excruciating pain.

Through the wooden door, I heard my newly awakened brother crying and pleading, along with my mother's cold obstruction and curses.

Leaning against the corner of the wall, I slowly released my bloody, mangled fingers that had been clawing at the door.

In the final moments before my consciousness scattered, I finally stopped struggling.

Mother, if dying in this sunless tack room was your final expectation for me, then... as you wish.

My father chose two vampires as marriage prospects for my sister and me.

One was an immensely powerful pureblood aristocrat.

The other was Cassian, crippled by a silver curse. Confined to a wheelchair, he was a laughingstock—wracked by phantom pains and constantly on the verge of madness.

In my past life, I chose Cassian.

I drained my own blood to ease his agonizing curse. I shielded him from the relentless mockery of the Vampire Court. I even gambled my life in werewolf territory to beg for his cure.

But he never seemed to get better.

I didn't care. I remember holding his hand and telling him, "It doesn't matter. No matter what happens to you, I will always stay by your side."

Until the accident. A pack of rogue werewolves ambushed us.

Cassian shoved me precisely into the path of their claws.

Just to shield my sister, Serena, from the fatal blow.

Silver claws completely shredded my throat.

Through my fading vision, I watched Cassian stand up from his wheelchair.

The terrifying aura of a Vampire Lord erupted from him, crushing the werewolves instantly. Countless night-thralls emerged from the shadows, dropping to their knees at his feet.

That was when I understood. He was never paralyzed, and he was never mad.

Because Serena hadn't chosen him, and because he wanted absolutely nothing to do with me, he faked the illness to disgust me for years.

Then, he used my life to save his true love.

"I'm sorry for deceiving you. But I couldn't just watch Serena die."

"Elara... whatever I owe you, I'll repay in the next life."

In the bone-piercing cold, I took my last breath.

When I opened my eyes, I was back on the exact day my father forced us to make our choice.

"Someone is right behind you."
It's the most common comment I get in the chat during my late-night streams.
But when that exact phrase abruptly hijacked my screen, spammed in bold, blood-red letters, my blood ran completely cold.
Because deep down, I knew. This time, they weren't joking.
It was real.

Beatrice has never been someone to take things lying down. After being kidnapped by two men and thrown in the back of a car, she's already thinking of ways to make them regret their actions. She soon finds out these men are werewolves, tasked with bringing her to their pack because she’s someone’s fated mate.
Her. A human. Fated to be with a werewolf? That couldn’t be right.
As a human, there's no way she can escape from this mate-thing they are adamant she accept. That is… until she decides to trust the vampire in the packhouse dungeon. With his help, surely they can both escape their fates as prisoners of the Bluemoon Pack.

"Please, Lydia, give me a second chance. I swear, let me love you again." "Too late, Nathaniel, I have someone else now."
In a twisted tale of deceit and sacrifice, Lydia Milan, who hid her identity and family, endures a loveless marriage to handsome, wealthy Nathaniel King, who views her only as a blood source for his ailing ex.
Struggling against mistreatment, Lydia Milan finally demands a divorce and leaves the marriage, and that was when Nathaniel King discovered that she was the only daughter of the richest man in the country, whom he had been trying to have an audience with since.
A suspenseful journey unfolds, revealing the complexities of love, betrayal, and redemption in this gripping novel where hidden identities and vengeful schemes entwine in a web of secrets.

Freya's POV

Cold raindrops pelted my face, mixing with the stinging pain on my cheeks. I couldn't tell if it was rain or tears.

The black Bentley's windows blocked out the noise from outside, but they couldn't block the chill radiating from the man in the back seat.

Blake Jenkins held an unlit cigar between his fingers, his eyes as cold as ice.

When his gaze swept over me, there wasn't a trace of warmth—only deep-seated hatred.

"Freya Stewart, remember your place."

His voice was low and hoarse, each word drilling clearly into my ears.

"Starting today, you're no longer the adopted daughter the Jenkins family doted on. Now you're just a nanny, a servant to wait on Lena."

My body trembled violently, my fingers clutching desperately at the hem of my clothes.

I lifted my head, eyes red and rimmed with tears, my voice shaking uncontrollably: "Blake, you went through all this trouble to find me just to make me a nanny for you and Lena Johnson? Why should I? What happened back then..."

"Shut up!" Blake cut me off sharply, crushing the cigar hard into the ashtray.

"You still dare bring up what happened back then? If it weren't for you, how would my parents have died so horribly? I almost didn't survive either! If it weren't for your gambling-addicted father, how would Lena have ended up disabled, stuck in a wheelchair for life!"

He made me wait ten minutes. My mother died in those ten minutes.
For eight years, I gave Damien Cross everything. My career. My paycheck. Every deal I ever closed, signed in his favor. I chased him through college and followed him to Chicago. In thirty days, I was supposed to become Mrs. Cross.
That same day, he left me waiting at my desk to drive his best friend’s little sister to the doctor. All for a cough. He thought I’d still walk down the aisle. He’d always thought I’d show up, no matter what.
So the day before our wedding, I boarded a plane. And I left him a gift—one he would open in front of four hundred guests.
Two years later, his empire is on the auction block. And the woman sent to buy it is me. Now he’s on his knees, begging for a second chance. Too bad I’m already wearing someone else’s ring.

My younger sister was tortured to the brink of death by the young heir of a newly minted mafia family.
 
His older sister stood on her high horse and threw a check at me.
 
"Take this half a million, grab your half-dead sister, and get the hell out of New York."
 
I tore the check into shreds and screamed at her, "In your dreams! I want him dead!"
 
She let out a contemptuous scoff.
 
"Around here, my family is the law! Half a million is enough for bottom-feeders like you to scrape by for three lifetimes. If it's not enough, consider it money for a nice cemetery plot. How about I throw in another two million?"
 
As she spoke, she raised her hand, flaunting it. "Otherwise... take a good look at this signet ring. Who exactly do you think you're talking to?"
 
My eyes locked onto the ring on her finger. The ancient crest engraved on the gold was all too familiar—it was the custom wedding gift I had commissioned for my mafia boss husband ten years ago.
 
Instantly, my glare turned absolutely lethal.
 
"I said, I want your brother's life."

My adopted sister, Adriana, hit and injured Hadley Brooks—the prized mistress of Hartwell’s mafia boss, Dario Salvatore—and fled the scene.
Don Salvatore gave us exactly three days. And so, my husband and my parents all turned their eyes to me: Go take the fall for her. You always know how to fix things.
I agreed.
What they didn't know was that on that very same day, my doctor had given me my own deadline: I had, at most, three days left to live.

At the Ultimate Construct Tournament, my roommate beat me to the stage, unveiling the very runic matrix I had just designed in my mind.

When I confronted her about the blatant plagiarism, she burst into tears on the spot.

"You say I stole from you, but do you have even a single sketch to prove it?"

My boyfriend, Richard, sitting right there on the judges' panel, publicly condemned me.

He called me a sore loser and sneered that my vicious slander was absolutely disgusting.

Because the construct existed entirely within my mental sea, I had no physical proof.

I was crucified as a jealous bully, and ultimately, the violent magical backlash tore through me.

Right up until my last breath, I couldn't figure it out: how did she perfectly steal a top-secret construct I had only ever simulated in my mind, without leaving a single trace behind?

When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn—right back at the start of that very tournament.

Watching my roommate step forward, ready to rush the holographic projector, I clamped a hand around her wrist.

"This time, I'm going first."

The mafia boss chose me as his decoy—a body double for the woman he loves.

Eight years. Three bullets, one car crash, one explosion. The doctor said ten more minutes and I would've died on that operating table when they took my kidney. I gave him a son. He let me play "the boss's wife" in public.

Until he cleared every obstacle for her and decided to marry her.

Her wedding photos replaced mine in the master bedroom. He has her initials tattooed on his arm. When I questioned him, he had his men slap me at a charity gala, forced me to admit "I'm just a stand-in." When I touched her, he took away my custody, declared she was "the true lady of this house."

The punishments got worse. When he threatened to cancel my mother's insurance, I finally learned to shut up.

He pulls me close, whispers in my ear: "She gave up everything for me. Not like you—you were born to take bullets for me."

"Deal with it. She's not replacing you. This is her house now."

Even my son took her side.

"Stop being dramatic! Natalie actually loves us! You're nothing!"

But their pure, innocent Natalie? She unplugged my mother's ventilator while I was locked in the basement. Let his enemies slip poison into my drink during the last job.

When Grayson found me, all he said was: "She's pregnant and emotional. Go rearrange the flowers at the wedding venue."

I wipe the black blood from my lips. Look at him quietly.

"I'm dying."

I used to be the Rosewood family's most beloved youngest daughter, until they took in Sabrina as their adopted daughter and everything changed.
My family said Sabrina's father saved my life, that I owed her everything. They forced me to donate blood for Sabrina until I was drained dry, demanded I give her my heart, and I died a miserable death on Christmas Eve.
As I lay dying, I could still hear them discussing how to throw Sabrina 'a unique Christmas party' to celebrate her recovery.
When I opened my eyes again, I'd been reborn, sent back to the day they first forced me to donate blood years ago.
This time, I yanked out the needle myself and slammed the family severance papers at their shocked faces. "The papers are signed. From now on, I have nothing to do with the Rosewoods."
Later, I became Nicholas Harrington's bride, taking on the surname that commanded worldwide respect. My designs swept across the globe, my name shining on the international stage, while the Rosewood family went bankrupt. My brothers knelt outside the Harrington estate, sobbing and begging for my forgiveness.
I stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching coldly. Nicholas wrapped his arms around me from behind, his chin resting gently against my hair, and murmured adoringly, "My princess, I've acquired the Rosewood family. It's yours now."

I felt my heart tighten in my chest as I watched with horror, my fiancé and my best friend having sex in the hotel. They were so engrossed and couldn’t even care less that they were half naked and anyone who cared, could see them from the glass wall of the building’s fourth floor. Sonia was pressed to the wall while Dennis worked her insides from behind. I couldn’t hear her moans but with every second that I imagined it, my heart sank the more.
Tears flooded my face as I flashed into the last two years of my life when I met Dennis. He was everything I wanted and more. Tall, handsome, broad shoulders and chest, I couldn’t stop drooling as he pulled me into a hug. For a moment there, my heart forgot how to beat, and the moment he smiled and introduced himself, I knew I was going to marry him. I had fallen hard in love with him.
Freya decided to try love again after several heartbreaks, she thought Dennis was different but reality dawned on her when she caught him cheating with her best friend, Sonia, the same person who matchmade them in the first place.
Actually, Dennis wasn’t cheating on her with Sonia, he was cheating on Sonia with her! The two have been dating over five years, and she never knew. She was the third wheel in their relationship…
What will happen now that Freya has found out? Find out in the story!

“You were never his, Wren. You were always mine.”
Denzel Thorne’s voice was low, dark, and laced with a hunger he’d buried for years. His fingers traced her jaw with deliberate slowness, tilting her face toward his. “I watched you marry another man. I stayed in the shadows while he broke you, piece by piece.”
His thumb brushed her lower lip. “But now? Now I’m done watching.”
*
Three years of marriage. Three years of lies.
Wren Taylor never expected to catch her husband, James, cheating. With his own brother’s wife.
Before she could even confront him, his brother Benjamin was dead. James claimed Wren’s suspicions were nothing but jealous delusions—then moved his widowed sister-in-law and her son into their home without so much as a word to Wren.
No consent. No respect. No love left at all.
As James flaunts his devotion to Ava and her child, Wren becomes a ghost in her own house. Humiliated. Ignored. Discarded.
She decides to fight for her freedom—even if it costs her everything.
But just when she hits rock bottom, he reappears.
Denzel Thorne. The boy she once loved. The man she never stopped wanting.
Now he’s the most powerful Don in the underworld. Ruthless. Untouchable. And utterly obsessed with the woman he was never allowed to have.
He takes her hand and teaches her how to destroy the ones who broke her. Every move brings them closer. Every touch resurrects a desire neither can control.
But Denzel has secrets. Dark ones. And when Wren discovers the truth behind his empire, their fragile love story may not survive the fall.

I'm Jane—until I discovered my marriage was built on lies.

The hotel penthouse door stood ajar as I approached.

"Your wife is so pathetic," she moaned breathlessly, her voice echoing from inside.

My breath caught as I pushed the door wider, revealing my husband with another woman pressed against the floor-to-ceiling windows, her legs wrapped around his waist as he moved inside her.

"Does she even know how to satisfy you like this?" she gasped, her nails raking down his back.

Lucas gripped her hips harder, his voice rough with desire: "Jane was always just part of the plan. You're the only woman who sets me on fire."

My phone slipped from my trembling hands, exploding against the marble floor like my shattered heart.

This time, I refused to be the victim.

I demanded a divorce—but Lucas had orchestrated every detail to keep me trapped.

Just when despair consumed me, Ethan Quinn appeared like salvation in a thousand-dollar suit

"Get divorced. I'll help you. One condition—marry me," he whispered.

The most powerful man in New York wanted me? A discarded wife?

But as Ethan protected me fiercely and Lucas begged desperately for forgiveness, the shocking truth emerged:

‘Ethan had been searching for me for twenty years.’

‘I was the little girl who once saved him from hell.’


"You pulled me out of that nightmare," Ethan's eyes filled with intensity. "I've spent my life becoming worthy of saving you back."

The scared boy became the most powerful man in the city.

His love wasn't coincidence—it was destiny.

Some people arrive like answered prayers you never knew you were praying...

“I want out of this marriage.”

The words were cold… ironic coming from the man who betrayed her five years ago.

But the broken woman he once discarded no longer exists.

She has rebuilt herself from the ashes… stronger, sharper, and untouchable. Now a powerful CEO and a devoted mother, she has no interest in reopening old wounds or letting the past back into her carefully rebuilt life.

Unfortunately, fate has other plans.

When the man who shattered her heart is suddenly thrown back into her world, buried emotions resurface… along with a secret powerful enough to change everything.

Because the little boy she fiercely protects may be his son.

Just when the past begins clawing its way back, another threat rises.

The woman currently by his side is not the type to walk away quietly. Ruthless, manipulative, and dangerously obsessed, she will stop at nothing to keep the man she claims as hers… even if it means destroying the woman he once lost and tearing apart the life she fought so hard to build.

This time, the stakes are higher.

And walking away may no longer be an option.

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.