612 Book(s) Related to your mine novel

My husband pushed me down the stairs when I was three months pregnant.

I thought it was his bipolar disorder acting up again. The doctors said he couldn't control himself. So I forgave him—just like I'd forgiven the cigarette burns, the broken ribs, and all those nights he choked me unconscious.

Then I lost our baby.

And overheard him on the phone: "The bitch deserved it. If she hadn't stopped me three years ago, Elena would be mine."

That's when I realized—he was never sick. He'd been torturing me on purpose for three years.

Punishing me because I "made him lose" the woman he loved.

So I signed the divorce papers and walked away without looking back.

Four months pregnant, I went to the bar to bring Connor his wallet, only to overhear a conversation that made my blood run cold.

"She's so controlling. Billy and I can barely breathe," my husband told his friends. "I'm taking Kelsey to the countryside for three months of therapy. I'll just tell Nadia it's a parent-child program abroad."

The worst part? My ten-year-old son Billy would cover for him.

Then I had a miscarriage. In my darkest moment, Connor said he'd use experimental hypnotherapy to help me "forget the pain" so I wouldn't suffer or cling to them while they vacationed for three months.

I agreed.

But when he got everything he wanted, he regretted it.

Every July, my husband left for a business trip to France—so for seven full years of marriage, we never once got to celebrate our wedding anniversary.
This time, I flew all the way to France to surprise him, and mid-flight, I stumbled across a social media post.
My dream girl finally agreed to be with me. How do I make the frumpy, worn-out wife back home file for divorce on her own?
The OP poured out his grievances in the comment section:
When my dream girl suddenly moved abroad, I married her former best friend to keep me company through the hard times, just so I wouldn’t lose touch with her completely.
Now she’s finally said yes to being with me, and I’ve made enough to give her the lavish, privileged life she deserves.
I want my wife to find out about my affair herself so I can get a clean divorce without a fight, but she’s so painfully oblivious. I’ve come home reeking of my dream girl’s perfume on purpose, and every single July I fly here to France for our private time together, watching the lavender bloom in Provence with her. She never noticed a thing.
Perfume. July. France.
Those matching details made my fingers go numb. A deafening buzz exploded in my skull. A bone-deep chill washed over me, and I prayed with everything I had that it was all just a terrible coincidence.
Until I read the final line.
Just got a spending alert from her supplementary credit card—she bought a flight to France. I’m heading to pick up my dream girl now, might as well keep an eye out for her, just in case.
The plane touched down. When I stepped into the arrivals hall, I lifted my head almost instinctively.
There stood Shen Sinian, the man I hadn’t seen in two weeks, in a crisp, tailored suit, a bouquet of roses in his hand, locked in a passionate kiss with a woman with a stunning, willowy figure, her back to me.
He opened his eyes by chance, and through the crowd of travelers, his gaze locked directly with mine.

For six years, I wore Pack silver. I sold my blood. I scrubbed silver out of Pack den floors. I slept on a basement floor — all to pay off my mate's Pack debt and buy my brother's wolfsbane antidote.
Today, with the receipt finally signed, my brother looked at me and said:
"Seren, I was never poisoned. Our parents aren't dead either. The Rogue raid six years ago — I arranged it. The only wolf hurt that night was you."
My mate stepped up behind him: "I never lost my Pack rank either. I've been at the estate the whole time."
Then my parents — the ones I'd buried seven years ago — walked through the door.
The Pack physician had given me forty-eight hours left to live.
They were going to remember every single one.

For some girls, age eighteen is the magical age of freedom and independence. For Aerys, turning eighteen means an arranged marriage to a man she's never met before, leaving the only home she's ever known, and accidentally discovering things she never knew about the world, about her family, and about herself, things that have been lurking beneath the surface all along. However, each new discovery brings new questions with it, and the answers could lead in some very dangerous directions. She and her fiancé, Dmitri, must decide whether or not to find the answers to these questions and what to do with the knowledge they gain. To change the game instead of living by others' rules, they must look beyond what they see.

"Hey, don't move!"
I was robbed by a stranger. But what he wanted was not money.
He tore my clothes off, kept kissing me hard, not to rape me.
He wanted me to cover his blood and track from his enemies.
I saw blood running out of his stomach.
He said thank you after he fooled his enemies.
I let him come into my place to get the bullet out of him.
I was a doctor.
He gave me a kiss the next morning and disappeared from my life.
It felt like a dream, I couldn't help thinking about the night making out with him.
Until one day, I saw him again in the hospital.
I learned that he was a soldier and that he had looked for me and loved me for a very very long time...
But I had no memory of him, until...

After five years of invisible devotion, she watched her husband dote on another woman while her own daughter wished for a different mother. The birthday fireworks meant for her became a spectacle of her humiliation.

A renowned cardiac surgeon who had saved countless lives, she finally saved her own—by vanishing with nothing but signed divorce papers.

Three years later, she returned as the brilliant founder of a top medical institute, celebrated and desired worldwide. The man who once took her for granted now sees the empire she built without him. He searches desperately, begging for another chance.

But the woman he broke is no longer there—only the queen who rose from the ashes remains.

Can a heart he shattered ever beat for him again? And will the daughter who rejected her finally see what she lost?

"If anything happens to Willow or her baby, you’ll wish you were never born."

Elias’s voice was a blade to my chest. I watched the woman he loved—his mistress—lying in a pool of blood at the bottom of the stairs. I didn't push her. She fell trying to grab me, trying to gloat about the child growing inside her. But he didn't care.

He cradled her broken body like she was precious glass, leaving his wife standing in the cold. He didn't know I was pregnant too. He didn't know that while he prayed for his mistress's bastard, he was destroying the mother of his legitimate heir.

I touched my flat stomach, tears freezing on my face as the ambulance lights painted us in red. He looked at me with pure hatred, a look that killed the last ember of my love.

"I'll sign the divorce papers, Elias," I whispered to the empty air as he rode away with her. "But you'll never see this baby. You chose the wrong child to save."

“I cut off his hands because he touched you. I gouged out his eyes because he looked at you. Do you want to keep playing games with me, Chloe?”

Eighteen years of being her father's heavily guarded mafia princess did nothing to prepare her for Christian Vaughn — a man who kills without hesitation, controls without mercy, and has just decided that she belongs to him.
She didn't choose him out of free will, signed his contract because the alternative was death at the hands of the Elites that wanted her gone.
Now she lives in his mansion, breathes the air he allows her, and plays the role of his devoted girlfriend while a target remains painted on her back and the bodies keep disappearing.
Christian doesn't love her. He doesn't love anything.
But he will burn the entire world down before he lets anyone else touch what is his.
And Chloe is beginning to realize that the most dangerous thing in her life isn't the killers hunting her.
It's the way she's slowly stopped being afraid of the one who already caught her.
Some monsters don't hide under your bed.
Some of them hand you a contract and tell you to sign.

I fled the hotel room in a panic, leaving only a cheap necklace behind. I had just spent the night with William Ford, the city’s most ruthless billionaire CEO.

My sister, the "real" daughter of my wealthy adoptive family, found the necklace. She stole my secret, claimed she was the woman from that night, and proudly paraded around as his new girlfriend.

She had already taken my parents and my fiancé. Now, she wanted to crush me at work, ordering me to step aside while she played the future Mrs. Ford.

"Don't even think about stealing him, Wendy. You're just a fake," she sneered.

She thought she had won. But she didn't know that William had already seen the unique birthmark on my shoulder.

Later that night, as my sister planned her grand engagement, the terrifying CEO pinned me against his office door. His cold eyes melted into fiery obsession as his husky voice brushed my ear.

"How much longer are you going to let her play my girlfriend, my little runaway?"

Rated🔞 🔞 🔞

“Fuck me,” I mutter, “or kill me. We both know you have to choose.”
He snarls as he wraps his hands around my waist.
“Have you ever been fucked, Lucia Reid?”
It's the first time he's said my real name, and it sends heat sparking between my thighs.
“Of course I’ve had sex.”
He leans in until his mouth is against my cheek and whispers, “That’s not what I asked.”
My toes curl in my expensive heels, my hips rolling against him, and his mouth slants over mine roughly, his hands pushing the material of my dress until it pools at the tops of my thighs.
He pushes into me then until I feel his cock pressing hard against my clothed sex.

“I’ll fuck you so hard, princess,” his mouth is at my ear, “Hard enough for you to forget about all about the Reids and Ardens and everything else that doesn’t matter. I’ll make you forget about every cocky rich boy who ever smiled at you, the ones who couldn’t handle you, and I’ll make you come so hard that by the time I'm done... you’ll have to name me king.”

Maya Vasquez doesn't belong at Kensington Academy. Everyone knows it. The scholarship girl with the secondhand uniform and the east‑side address. She's spent a year being invisible, and it's worked.

Until she crashes into Liam Whitmore.

Basketball god. Campus royalty. Sabrina Chase's ex. The kind of rich, untouchable boy who called her scholarship trash in the hallway.

Now Sabrina is bullying Maya's mom, threatening her job, and making it clear that Maya will pay for getting too close to her ex. Maya's family is one paycheck away from eviction. Her mom is sick. And she has nowhere to turn.

Liam offers a deal: pretend to be his girlfriend. He needs to fix his image. She needs protection and money. No feelings. No real dates. End of story.

But fake hand‑holding turns into real conversations. Staged coffee dates turn into something that feels nothing like acting. And Sabrina isn't just watching—she's waiting to destroy them both.

In a world where your zip code determines your worth, Maya is about to learn that the most dangerous thing she can do isn't falling behind.

It's falling for the boy who was built to break her.

When Nicky Wilder flees New York, she leaves behind everything-her clothes, her photos, her future and the man who turned her confidence into fear. With nothing but a dance bag and a bruised heart she returns home to Denver. Where her brothers house is loud, chaotic, safe…and already occupied by the one man she swore she’d never fall for

Gage Ryker. Her brother's best friend, her lifelong tormentor, and the crush she never outgrew. Now he’s a six-foot-four problem in a hockey jersey-bigger, hotter, bossier than ever. And he’s looking at her like she’s not Brads baby sister anymore.
Their banter still bites. Their chemistry still burns. And the rule that’s always kept them apart? Hanging by a thread.

As Nicky rebuilds her life piece by piece-new room, new routine, new courage-Gage is always there. At her lowest moments. Her most vulnerable ones. And when he kisses her, everything they’ve buried comes roaring to the surface.
But falling for Gage means risking their friendship.

And Gage knows one wrong move could cost him everything he’s worked for.

She’s starting over

He’s losing control

And the line they swore they’d never cross is the only thing left between them.

Not Supposed To Love You is a slow-burn, brothers-best-friend romance filled with heat, humor, family, and the kind of tension that refuses to stay buried.

Sophie Patterson. Don't you dare walk away from me." Logan's menacing stare bore at me. I suddenly didn't feel drunk anymore.

I sobered up quickly. "What, Logan? You're gonna tell me that you suddenly love me again? That you're here to sweep me off my feet? Please! I didn't need you all this time, and I don't need you now." He clenched his jaw, fisting his hands.

"Enough. Stop being so damn stubborn. You know I do. I love you. I never stopped loving you, Sophie. It was always you."

I left my hometown hoping to never see him again. I left with his baby still inside of me. Seven years after, and here I am again. Standing before him and a six-year-old wanting to know who his dad is, and asking me to marry him because everyone in his class but him and his best friend don't have a daddy. What am I supposed to do with all these feelings that are resurfacing? I'm realizing every day that I never got over him. I merely suppressed my feelings, and him telling me this now- in my face, just made things more complicated. This is book 2 of Loathing Logan.

The day Delia finds out she is finally pregnant, it should be the happiest day of her life. However, after going home to find her husband in bed with his secretary, Delia is determind to leave him and make a better life for her and her child, no matter the cost.

Elise Hernandez is an introverted high school girl struggling to leave her past behind. Writing is the only way she knows to ease the pain she feels inside. She has built strong walls around herself, fearing attachment to the people she meets.

As a gift for her seventeenth birthday, her friends Arya and Zara convince her to join a music camp featuring the world’s most famous boy band. Will the camp make any difference in her life? And what will she risk if the only person who gives her hope turns out to be one of the reasons her nightmares return?

I made a deal with Declan Moss at prom and I told myself it was strategy.

He needed a girlfriend. I needed an ex-boyfriend to finally notice I had moved on. Clean terms, mutual exit. I was good at arrangements. I had been making myself useful to people who didn't deserve it for years.

What I was not prepared for was him. Not the version he performs... the armor, the silence, the carefully managed distance. The real one. The one who hands you an essay he never meant for anyone to read and watches your face while you do it. The one carrying a sick sister, two jobs, and a scholarship that stands between his family and a number too big to say out loud. The one who has been holding everything together so long he has forgotten that holding everything is not the same as being okay.

People are trying to destroy him. Quietly. Patiently. From the inside out.

And somewhere between session four and the worst week of his life, I stopped being the girl on his paperwork and became the person he called first.
The arrangement had rules. I had an exit strategy. I was supposed to walk away clean.

Then he said my name in a parking lot like it meant everything he hadn't found the words for yet. And I understood that I had not been performing for weeks.

I had just been... there. Fully. Without the contract.

The fake part ended a long time ago. I am the only one who knows that.

For now.

Vanessa never thought she'd come face to face again with the man who once ruined her life.

But he was back and worse, he had no intention of leaving her alone.

What happens when she crossed paths with the one and only Mordechai Lenetti? Owner of Lenetti's House of Essence. Multi-billionaire. Arrogant. Cold. Powerful. Untouchable.

He was a man who smiled only when necessary and that wasn't often. Mordechai didn't like to be challenged, especially not by people he considered beneath him. The women who warmed his bed knew better than to step out of line. He cared only for himself and his family. No one else mattered.

But when his mother offered Vanessa a job, she had no choice but to take it. She needed the money to finally leave the city.

She had no intention of getting involved with the arrogant man who was now her boss.

But Mordechai knew there was something about her, something different, and he wasn't going to stop until he satisfied his curiosity.

Fate works in the most unprecedented of ways. The one person you hope to love for all eternity ends up being destined to another, and then, you just sit there, watching them all giddy and happy in love.

And then, you wonder, what’s your role then in all of this? How many times can fate betray you before you realize you can’t trust it?

But Bronte’s love story wasn’t exactly meant to be that simple.

She has always loved Alexander, for as long as she can remember, even before growing into the awareness of destined mates. And Alpha Alexander loved her right back, in an almost too convenient way.

But on the night she is meant to be his mate and Luna, her entire world shifts. She comes in contact with the one thing she shouldn't have seen, and that marks her for death.
She should have died that night, but she didn’t.

Instead, she wakes up one week earlier, on the day of their engagement, reliving a life she already lived, knowing fully well that the week will end in her murder.

But something is different this time.

The man who watched her die, Alexander's younger brother, is still standing where he has always been. Right at the centre of her life, dangerous, quiet, and hiding truths that burn hotter than his desires.

And then, it begs the question, can fate be rewritten?

Emily Anderson once believed in love, family, and second chances. But when tragedy strikes, the man she trusted most, James Carter, becomes her cruelest tormentor. Haunted by the death of his mother and unborn child, James is determined to make Emily pay, no matter the cost.

Forced to live under the same roof, Emily struggles to protect her fragile younger brother, Oliver. But when James demands Oliver's kidney to save his own son, Emily's world begins to unravel. Her pleas are ignored, her sacrifices go unseen and soon, the line between justice and vengeance blurs.

As betrayal mounts from all sides—family, friends, and even fate—Emily is stripped of everything she holds dear. But in the depths of despair, something awakens within her. A spark. A purpose.

What began as a woman begging for mercy becomes a relentless fight for dignity, truth, and revenge. But just how far is Emily willing to go—and how much more does she have left to lose?

"You either fuck him or you will no longer be a ballerina in my company."

The director’s words made me freeze for a moment. My throat went dry, my body numb. This wasn’t supposed to be part of the deal. I trained my whole life for the stage, not to be someone’s prostitute.

"When?" I asked, tears already forming in my eyes.

"TONIGHT."

That one word shattered everything inside me. It wasn’t a request, it was an order.

Right after the London Fashion Week, my husband unprecedentedly gave me a vacation, arranging a ten-day trip to New York.
I thought he finally learned to be considerate, until I overheard his conversation with our son.
"Dad, if you are marrying Aunt Barbara, what about Mom?" our son asked innocently.
"It's merely a ceremonial engagement," my husband chuckled. "Be a good boy, Oliver. Keep this a secret from Mom, and I'll buy you that limited-edition model airplane."
My mind went blank. I stood frozen for a long while before stepping out onto the terrace to catch the chilling wind.
If he wants to rewrite his past with his first love.
Then I will reclaim the design dream I threw away for him.
Once I leave for New York, I am never coming back.

After hearing about my peanut allergy, my boyfriend's newly crowned campus queen added peanut extract to my signature cocktail.

Just one sip in, and my skin immediately erupted in hives. My throat started to close up rapidly.

I stumbled toward my canvas tote, pulled out my life-saving EpiPen, and yanked off the cap.

But the next second, my blood ran cold.

The emergency EpiPen had been swapped out for a tube of lipstick by my boyfriend.

Seeing my face turn purple as I collapsed onto the floor, the campus queen suddenly burst into laughter:

"Surprise! I specifically told Julian to swap it out!"

"You are such a fake. Anaphylactic shock from a single sip?"

I desperately gripped my boyfriend's cuff, letting out strained, wheezing gasps like a broken bellows:

"Julian... if you don't give me the real one... I'm really going to die!"

He peeled my fingers off him one by one and swatted my hand away in disgust, frowning slightly:

"Do you really think you're some delicate princess? It's just a drink. Are you seriously doing this?"

"Madison is right. You're just a drama queen making a scene!"

I gave up pleading for him to understand. Instead, I pressed the custom fountain pen in my pocket, triggering my old-money family's highest-tier SOS signal.

My father said an honest man can't run a farm. My brother called me nothing but a burden. My ex-girlfriend dropped her engagement ring into a glass of champagne and handed it back to me. They all thought I was worthless. None of them knew I'd been reborn, and had stockpiled five years' worth of supplies in the cold storage. When the blizzard hit, the walkie-talkie crackled to life. I heard their cries and the unspoken thoughts swirling inside their heads. Really? You're still trying to scheme against me right now?

Ariella Hayes was seventeen years old when she learned that grief had a taste.
It tasted like burnt sugar. Like the batch of croissants she’d left in the oven too long the morning after the funeral, too numb to hear the timer, too broken to care. Like the coffee, she drank black now because adding cream felt like a luxury she didn’t deserve. Grief tasted like everything and nothing.
Mostly nothing.
She was thinking about this at 4:47 a.m., lying in bed and staring at the water stain on her ceiling that resembled a reaching hand. She’d been awake since three. She was always awake from three, that gray hour when the world was silent enough to hear all the things she tried not to think about during the day.
Like how it was her fault.
How she should have been the one in the car.
How her mother hadn’t really looked at her in six months.
The timer screamed, and Ariella dragged herself out of bed, moving through the apartment like a ghost, past her mother’s bedroom door, down the narrow stairs to Hayes & Daughter Bakery. The name felt like a lie now. Her grandmother was gone. Ethan was gone. Soon the bakery would be gone too, and it would just be Ariella and her mother in an empty building, haunting the space where their family used to be.

She is about to embark on a life-altering journey as she enters a contract marriage with billionaire heir Aiden Frost, all in a bid to rescue her family’s struggling bakery. As they step into this pretend union, neither of them anticipates how their arrangement will evolve into a haven, where they might uncover feelings that challenge their initial intentions.

Clarissa Wang thought getting into her dream Ivy League university would be the best day of her life until she walked in on her boyfriend tangled in bed with another girl. Heartbroken and humiliated, she finds solace at her sister's appointment, only to find it already occupied by someone from her past, her enigmatic step-cousin, Damien.
Tall, brooding, and dangerously charming, Damien has just transferred from the U.S., carrying secrets and scars that run deep. The tension between them ignites instantly, fueled by forbidden memories and undeniable chemistry. But family ties and dark oaths make their attraction taboo.
As Clarissa tries to rebuild her life, she finds herself torn between the boy who betrayed her and the man she was never supposed to want. When a drugged drink, a bear assault, and a steamy night threaten to expose their secret, Clarissa's world spirals into chaos. And when Damien is framed for a murder he didn't commit, Clarissa must decide: walk away, or risk everything to prove his innocence.
Love, betrayal, and obsession collide in this steamy college romance where every kiss is a sin… and every secret could be deadly.
Forbidden never felt so right. But what happens when love becomes a crime

My name is Noah Brooks, and according to my father, I committed one unforgivable crime…

I was born a girl.

Apparently, that means my older brother, Owen is destined to inherit the legendary Brooks hockey legacy, while I’m expected to clap from the sidelines and pretend I’m not the better player.

Yeah… absolutely not.

So when my brother suddenly can’t play for Blackridge University’s elite hockey team, I do what any perfectly reasonable, mentally stable girl would do.

I steal his identity.

Now I’m living as Owen Brooks, sharing a dorm with twenty sweaty hockey players, hiding in bathroom stalls to change clothes, praying nobody notices my voice cracks every five seconds, and trying very hard not to die every time someone suggests group showers.

Easy.

Except my roommate is Jace Donovan.

Campus hockey god.

Professional pain in my ass.

Certified menace.

And unfortunately… my brother’s best friend.

Jace has an annoying habit of barging into our room half-naked, stealing my food, invading my personal space, and looking at me like he knows I’m hiding something.

Which would be bad enough…

…if I wasn’t slowly falling for him.

Now I’m pretending to be the guy he’s known for years while secretly crushing on him like an absolute idiot.

Even worse?

He keeps getting weirdly protective of me.

The lies are piling up.

The championship is getting closer.

My identity is hanging by a thread.

And if Jace finds out the truth…

I won’t just lose hockey.

I’ll lose him too.

Blurb:

“Now honey, what was that about earlier?” Mom demands after a beat, her voice even. Controlled. Measured. Like she's always been.

I look at her. At her copperry red hair much like my own, conflicted. And my eyes water.

It's about how I can still feel Grayson's touch on my skin mum. How his tongue has done things to me. Things too unholy to describe.

About how the scent of him—the mere thought of him—makes me heady.

And now, you’re marrying his father?

Grayson's bad news for goddess’ sake!

I want to tell her all that, but I don't.

I Can't.

“You didn't even stop to think about it,” I say instead, not liking the crack in my voice at the end.

“Probably because there was nothing to think about,” mother shrugs, frowning in concern. “What is this really about Ginny?”

Ginny. The five letter syllable that somehow sounds so different—sinfully different—when he says it.

“You've been acting weird ever since I mentioned coming back.. Is there something I should know?” she probes.

And then..

Her face grows pale.


Ours is a story that was never meant to be written.

A broken symphony, A perfect imagery with cracks.

He was my living torment, I was his subject. His prey. His Forbidden fruit.

We weren't meant to love. To feel so deeply. To Burn.

But we did anyways.

And the inferno we created?

Blew out of proportion.

Destroying everything we once thought we knew.

Again, we weren't meant to love,

But our story was a destructive force of nature,

Bound by soul-ties that could not be denied.

Three years ago, billionaire Theodore Chambers handed Victoria Ellis divorce papers with cold eyes and colder words—all for the sake of his first love, Isabella Waters.
Victoria didn't cry. She didn't beg.
She simply signed her name, walked out of that golden cage, and disappeared from the world of the rich.
What the world didn't expect…
Was for the discarded ex-wife to rise from the ashes—not as a socialite, but as the world's most sought-after reconstructive mortician. Behind every high-profile crime scene and closed casket, she was the one restoring dignity to the dead—and building a name powerful enough to shake law enforcement and the elite alike.
Now, at a funeral of all places, their paths cross again.
She stands beside another man, radiant, untouchable.
He watches in disbelief—his ex-wife, no longer his.
"You handle corpses every day. Aren't you afraid of bad luck?" he growls, grabbing her wrist.
She smiles coldly.
"In my heart, the grass over your grave has already grown two meters tall."
But fate has one final card to play.
When Victoria finds Theodore lying in a pool of blood, clutching an old photo of her, everything unravels.
Was it too late after all?
Or is love just another body she's not willing to reconstruct?

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?

I served as the family's lapdog for ten years, only to discover that my entire family and my fiancée faked their deaths on a yacht, leaving me to pay for their $500 million debt and thirty lives.
Now the family's gangsters have blocked the entire building, the FBI is ready to arrest me, and my fiancée's senator father wants me dead to accompany his daughter to the grave. One trouble after another.
Since that's how it is, then you can all truly go to hell!
I coldly deleted their household registrations and accounts with a sneer.

After being stood up for the ninety-ninth time while attempting to register for marriage, I sent my fiancé a breakup message. He had allowed me to be let down ninety-nine times, dismissing my asthma as mere pretentiousness and perceiving my sacrifices as acts of greed, all the while lavishing his patience upon another woman. It was only when he had his mistress select a cheap necklace for me and sketched explicit nudes of her that I realized these seven years were not a narrative of profound love, but rather an absurd farce playing out solely in my life. The moment I dispatched the breakup message, I never envisioned that this man, who viewed me as dispensable, would later pursue me with a frenzied obsession.

She was forced to accept a marriage proposal from a strange billionaire to pay her huge debt and to take back her inheritance left to him when her mother died.

Nathan’s lawyer handed her the documents, including the marriage certificate.

Things were moving much faster than she had imagined they would, and everything happening seemed too easy. Too good to be true - a voice in her mind cried out - Be careful! It’s a trap! If it was a trap, though, it was very cleverly hidden.

Crystal contemplated the proposal for a moment before addressing Mike, his lawyer. “I only have two questions,” she said. “The first question is this: if I sign it, does it mean that I don’t need to pay my debt?”

Mike: “Yes. And your second question...?”

Crystal: “Okay, I haven’t reached the legal age for marriage yet, so even if I sign it, it won’t take effect. Is that right?”

Nathan quickly raised his hand and said, “If I say that it is effective, no one will dare to say that it isn’t. Do you believe that?”

“I suppose so,” Crystal admitted. She hesitated for a moment, and then she signed the marriage certificate.

Months later, she asked for a divorce from him. He stared at her in silence, then he uttered, “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

“What does that have to do with our divorce?” Crystal asked.

“I’m only asking because I care about you,” Nathan murmured.

“I’ll be happy if you say that you care about me,” Nathan continued. “Why must you torture me this way? Haven’t I done enough to prove my love for you?”

She was stunned hearing his confession and the words stuck in her throat.

*MATURE READERS ONLY * DARK ROMANCE *
"What shall I do now that I have seized my prey?" He questions me, voice sonorous and husky whilst he inhales sharply nose buried into the flesh of my neck savouring the scent of his female. Canines descend eager to sink, unhesitant for a bite.
"Should I devour it?"He whispers into my ear whilst the tip of his hot tongue tastes the flavour of my inflamed skin. I quiver beneath him encaged under his muscular being.
"I am starving my female and you look absolutely... succulent."He moans, tongue stroking his plump lower lip as an uncontrollable need sets him on fire from within.


HIM - Deimos was neither man nor wolf. He was a God, the Alpha of Alphas. They say he possesses no soul, for his eyes retain coldness that no heat can melt, his heart unyielding and emotionless occupying profound scars from his battles guarded by high walls. He is ruthless, instilling fear within others and striving off it. He did not understand the meaning of love nor mates until he laid eyes on his moon blessed.
HER - Destined for greatness she fought tooth and claw to survive. Her past, her arduous war. The first female Alpha to have ever been born on her pack lands. Having no place she battled for her birthright, for her reign. She did not know that her fight did e not cease that night she triumphed. She did not know that her greatest bloodshed would be with her mate. Deimos.
He would fight against his heart and she would fight with her soul.

At the press conference, my husband Thaddeus Getty publicly declared his love for his first love in front of all the media.
In an instant, the whole world knew I was a wife who wasn't cherished by her husband.
Heartbroken but not defeated, despite my deep love, I chose to leave.
Months later, Thaddeus looked at my belly and snarled through gritted teeth: "Tell me, whose bastard child is this?"

My eyes traced the curve of Cedar's porcelain skin, and something primal ignited deep in my chest. Before I could stop myself, I was moving toward the bed—drawn by an instinct I didn't recognize.

She pressed herself against the wall, eyes wide with fear.

But when my fingers closed around her delicate ankle, all rational thought abandoned me. Her skin was impossibly soft beneath my calloused hands, and the way she trembled sent heat coursing through my veins.

"Mr. Sterling... please... let me go..." Her whispered plea cut through the haze like a blade.

Christ. What was I doing?

I released her as if burned, my jaw clenching as reality crashed back. I'd crossed a line I never cross—touched her without permission, without reason. The moment her restraints were gone, she clutched the sheets to her chest, those doe eyes watching my every move.

The air between us crackled with something dangerous. Something I couldn't afford to explore.

But as I turned to leave, one thought echoed in my mind: I wanted to touch her again.


I'm Cedar Wright, raised by adoptive parents who seemed to value me more for what I could do for them than for who I am. As I struggle to break free from their toxic hold, a six-year-old boy suddenly enters my life, calling me "Mommy." It's surreal—I'm still a virgin! Yet his presence brings warmth and hope to my otherwise mundane existence.

Soon, two more children come into my life, each wanting me to be their "Mommy" too. They're like little Cupids, bringing an unexpected romance into my life—one that involves their domineering father. I find myself drawn to him, despite my better judgment, but our relationship is fraught with uncertainty.

Just when I've completely fallen for him, he starts pulling away. Is it because his first love has resurfaced, or is his true nature finally emerging?

I received a pornographic video.
"Do you like this?"
The man speaking in the video is my husband, Mark, whom I haven't seen for several months. He is naked, his shirt and pants scattered on the ground, thrusting forcefully on a woman whose face I can't see, her plump and round breasts bouncing vigorously. I can clearly hear the slapping sounds in the video, mixed with lustful moans and grunts.
"Yes, yes, fuck me hard, baby," the woman screams ecstatically in response.
"You naughty girl!" Mark stands up and flips her over, slapping her buttocks as he speaks. "Stick your ass up!"
The woman giggles, turns around, sways her buttocks, and kneels on the bed.
I feel like someone has poured a bucket of ice water on my head. It's bad enough that my husband is having an affair, but what's worse is that the other woman is my own sister, Bella.


“I want to get a divorce, Mark,” I repeated myself in case he didn't hear me the first time—even though I knew he'd heard me clearly.
He stared at me with a frown before answering coldly, "It's not up to you! I'm very busy, don't waste my time with such boring topics, or try to attract my attention!"
The last thing I was going to do was argue or bicker with him.
"I will have the lawyer send you the divorce agreement," was all I said, as calmly as I could muster.
He didn't even say another word after that and just went through the door he'd been standing in front of, slamming it harshly behind him. My eyes lingered on the knob of the door a bit absentmindedly before I pulled the wedding ring off my finger and placed it on the table.
I grabbed my suitcase, which I'd already had my things packed in and headed out of the house.

After receiving a divorce paper from her husband, six months after their marriage. Lisa tried to make their marriage work, but was shattered by her husband’s affair with her cousin. Feeling betrayed and broken, she left to start all over.

Six years later she becomes the most powerful woman in the underworld and a genius Doctor in the outside world. What will she do when she finds out the mafia who kidnapped her son for ransom to lure her to come and save the life of his dying fiancé is no other person but her Ex husband?

Will she put aside her hatred towards the two and save her cousin’s life? or watch her die?

Will she forgive her Ex husband for kidnapping his own son ?
******
Trey Collins a ruthless, domineering and powerful CEO in the business world and a ruthlessly merciless man, who wouldn’t blink at the idea of murder, torture and making one disappear from the face of the earth without a trace in the underworld. Every lady in Pearl city dreams to become his wife, but also terrified of him by his powerful and deathly aura.

Trey married Lisa just to spite his girlfriend, Valerie. After getting back together with his girlfriend, he asked for a divorce from his wife Lisa, she refused to sign it.

But when she signed the divorce papers, he was surprised but feigned nonchalance.
He thought she didn’t want to let him go, he she would beg.
But why does everything reminds him of her after she left. He thought he wanted her out of his sight and life? No! He must reclaim what is his and his alone!!

"And.. you are?"
"Camila..."
Lawson frowned. "What..."
Camila’s gaze hardened. "I didn't walk back from the dead for a friendly chat or to rehash how thoroughly you all ruined what was left of my life..." She held her chin up as if trying to keep herself from breaking her fragile composure. "I came to settle the score."


Camila thought she had lost everything when she received the shock of her life. But when she was forced to fake her own death and assume a new identity, she realized she had been accidentally given a second chance.
This new life came with a new discovery that Camila, the once shameful and disgraceful wife of the wealthy and powerful Miller family, turned out to be a force to be reckoned with, a rival worthy of respect, and a woman not to be underestimated.
Not even her husband stood a chance.

Maximilian Adenhart ruled over his coven for full five hundred years without any trifle stumbling on his feet. He's the greatest among the ruling class. Anyone who tells otherwise will perish under his gentle hands. For him, he lacks nothing in life. But his sister has a different opinion of him. That's why Max found himself having a 'vacation' inside the town of Little Maddison. Where he later on came to meet his fated mate, Dolly. A sweet, lovely rabbit shifter who's unfortunately living with another man.
It was never what Max had expected from the beginning.

Someone at Ravenwood High is a killer.
After a brutal murder leaves the school locked down, ordinary students suddenly become suspects, and one of them knows far more than they're willing to admit.
Rina thought she knew her friends. She was wrong.
The ex-boyfriend the police are certain is guilty, even when the evidence doesn't add up. The charming boy who watches her like he's waiting for her to remember something. The quiet girl who knows every secret and shares none of them. The mysterious new transfer student who seems to be hunting someone of his own. And the detective Rina has trusted with the truth since the very first day.
Any one of them could be hiding the answer.
As more secrets surface, and someone starts coming after everyone who gets too close to the truth, Rina realizes the murder isn't the beginning of the nightmare. It's the return of one that started three months ago, a night everyone else seems to remember except her.
The closer she gets to the truth, the more dangerous it becomes to keep asking: what really happened at the pool, and who has been deciding, all along, what Rina is allowed to remember?

Piera was genuinely in love with Orion despite the difference in their social status.

But when his sister shows up while he was on a business trip with a photograph of Orion and his fiancée, Piera packed her things and left without a backward glance.

Orion came back to find the apartment empty, and struggles to understand why she left.

But five years later, they crossed paths on Riverside Park, and the secret Piera had been hiding is now in plain sight.

Can Orion successfully win her back again?

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.

My fiancé of five years lent the white rose greenhouse—the one we built for our wedding—to his junior for her graduation project.
"Postponing the wedding to next year won't change anything. Elara, we've been together for five years. A few more months won't matter, right?"
He was certain I couldn't live without him, expecting me to wait around for him to cash his empty promises of marriage, just like I had countless times before.
I handed over the key, my voice flat. "She can have the greenhouse. But I'm done waiting for a five-year-old promise."
He froze for a second, then his brows furrowed, assuming I was just throwing a tantrum again. "Fine, act out all you want. I'll make it up to you once I'm done with this busy period."
Until a month later, when he scrolled through his social media feed and my wedding photos popped up on his screen.
Surrounded by a sea of white roses, I was in a wedding gown, smiling radiantly.
Staring at the screen, Julian was suddenly struck by the memory of the night I handed over that key.
My best friend, Maya, had practically gritted her teeth as she asked me:
"Didn't we agree that once this garden bloomed, you'd put on your dress and be the most beautiful bride in the world? He just carelessly gave away your wedding venue with a single sentence. What does he even take you for?"
I fought back the last bit of foolish obsession in my eyes and gave her a smile. "The wedding goes on as planned."
If Julian didn't want to get married, so be it.
I'd just marry someone else.

I'm an international flight purser. Every time I returned from a trip, I would find a woman’s item in my apartment that didn't belong to me.
The first time, it was a diamond earring on the bathroom counter. Gabriel said his mother left it behind when she visited. The second time, it was a pair of lace panties stuffed between the sofa cushions. He claimed his cousin's girlfriend left them when they crashed at our place, and his cousin even offered to buy us a brand-new sofa to apologize.
Time and time again, there was a flawless excuse for every single item.
Until the seventeenth time, when I deliberately hid one of my own lace bras under the sofa...

Warning ⚠️ ‼️ ⛔️ This book contains explicit graphic content, blue language and lustful desires | Can 100% make you come, tread with caution🤤💦| Bury yourself in it at your own detriment…or pleasure🥵😋🔞|


I was done suffering! Robin had promised herself. She wouldn’t let fate decide her happiness anymore, neither would her failed relationship.

Happiness was a foreign language for Robin Clay after the deaths of her sisters, the gruesome murder of her parents, and a devastating breakup with her serial cheating fiancée. She had to move past it all; the hurt, betrayal, pain, anguish, and loss.

At the brink of her turning point, she landed a coveted job at McCullen Confectionery, a multi-billion dollar company one could only dream of working for. She soon discovered her boss and CEO, Jack McCullen, was everything she had vowed to never get entangled with; matured, confident, magnetic, powerful, dangerously alluring, and captivatingly beautiful, falters her resolve and leaves her at his mercy.

Jack awakened every disastrous desire in her, one she was unprepared for and deeply ashamed of, especially when she was of the view that, he was committed to another woman.

Yet, what began as a professional interaction between them rapidly spiralled into a passionate, forbidden attraction marked by stolen moments, intense chemistry and a constant conflict between constraint, lust and her morals.

She was torn; suppressing her desires or surrendering to the passion Jack evoked in her—one that felt both intoxicating, sinful and destructive. Packed with a charged, erotic exploration of power; Love, Obsession, Torture explored the thin line between restraint and surrendering to a burning obsession.

Haunt Me Like You Mean It
When Mei Liang signed on as an assistant at Truth Finders of the Paranormal, she expected weird. She did not expect him.
Callum Reeves, known to everyone as Cal, is twenty-three, British, brutally brilliant, and completely impossible. He leads TFP like he owns the air in the room, and maybe he does. Mei has spent the better part of a year fetching his tea, surviving his icy stares, and pretending she does not care what he thinks of her.
She is not doing a great job of pretending.
When TFP is called to investigate a haunted theater on the outskirts of Hollow Crest, a remote village hugging the edges of New York's Chinatown, Mei thinks it is just another case. A ghost, a client, a mystery to solve. But the Miyuki Theater is hiding more than one secret, and so is Cal.
Between a furious heiress, a desperate playwright, a powder room that looks like a war zone, and a ghost that seems to have a very specific target in mind, Mei is already in over her head. Add in the strange dreams she cannot explain, a spirit that looks disturbingly familiar, and a team that runs more on chaos than cohesion, and this case is about to get very personal.
Some hauntings follow you home.
Some feelings do too.