7022 Book(s) Related to all too well the novel

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

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

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

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

At 2:17 AM, six weeks postpartum, new mom Harper thought she was just responding to her baby's crying. Instead, she discovered her husband Kieran and their live-in nanny Anya in the most intimate embrace—right beside her daughter's crib.
In her most vulnerable moment, in what should have been the safest space in her home, the two people she trusted most were betraying everything sacred about motherhood and marriage. Worse yet, they thought she was just another "baby-brained" mom who would never catch on.

They seriously underestimated what a mother is capable of.

When Harper finds that mysterious $300 Victoria's Secret charge on their shared account, when she discovers Kieran's handwritten love notes hidden in Anya's room, when she overhears them mocking her "annoying" middle-of-the-night feedings—she realizes it's time to show them what a real "burning sensation" feels like.

So the next time they tried to sneak around, Harper secretly swapped out their lube for her own special blend.

If you want to play with fire, let me show you what burning really feels like.

In my past life, just one day before the national evaluation camp that would make or break his career, my hockey-prodigy best friend faked an illness. He was ready to throw away his entire future just to go party in Chicago with a cheerleader.

Thinking I was doing him a favor, I stepped in. I tipped off his coach, saved his career.

Years later, he became a multimillion-dollar superstar. His way of thanking me? Framing me with doctored charity records and sending me to federal prison. He even smiled as he delivered the final, crushing blow:

"I planned that crash on the icy road, Kassia. Your parents' lives were just the price you had to pay for sticking your nose where it didn't belong."

Now, my eyes snap open to the deafening cheers of our high school hockey arena.

Sitting right next to me, that same cheerleader is eagerly plotting how to corner him after the game.

The remote vacation villa was saturated with suffocating male testosterone.
Deep in the night, my life-saving suppressants inexplicably vanished. The moment the drugs wore off, my unspeakable secret—my sex addiction—unleashed its most violent, lethal backlash in history.
What was even more fatal was that, through a twisted twist of fate, the man I was forced to share a room with tonight was my stepbrother, renowned for his absolute abstinence and cold, iron-fisted ruthlessness.
I thought that once my embarrassingly out-of-control, in-heat state was exposed, he would treat me like a monster and kick me away in disgust.
But I never expected—
This aloof man, who usually wouldn't even spare me a glance, now carried an irresistible, scorching aggression, ruthlessly sliding his large, rough hand straight up my thoroughly soaked panties...

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

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

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

Until I checked the camera feed in my own bedroom.

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

I thought I was the luckiest person in the apocalypse.
My brother, a former special forces soldier, brought me supplies so I wouldn't have to face the horrors above ground.
My girlfriend comforted me over the radio, saying she'd cry in my arms once we could finally get out.
I lived underground for three years, grateful like a domesticated dog.
Until that day, when I pushed open the door, smelled fresh grass, and saw the swimming pool in the sunlight—that's when I understood that the so-called apocalypse was never outside, but behind the door they had locked me in.

I died on the day my fiancé Song Jinnian got engaged to his white moonlight, Shen Zhiyi.

Shen Zhiyi wore the evening dress designed by Song Jinnian himself, smiling sweetly as she linked her arm through his, accepting blessings from every guest in the hall.

I was at the scene of a car crash on Highway 23, half a steel rebar piercing straight through my chest. Warm blood trickled down the cold metal, pooling into a stark, glaring red pool beneath me.

I called Song Jinnian seventeen times.

He hung up instantly on the first sixteen.

On the seventeenth ring, he finally answered.

The melodic music of the banquet hall hummed in the background. His voice was low, laced with unbridled impatience: “What’s your problem now? How many times do I have to say it—marrying Zhiyi is just a formality. Can’t you act your age and quit this nonsense?”

I tried to speak, but blood froth surged up my throat, stealing my ability to form a full sentence. All I heard was the busy tone as he hung up without a second thought, echoing in the empty car, one beep at a time, shattering my last shred of hope.

Song Jinnian would never know that the girl he dismissed as a spoiled, tantrum-throwing lady was pinned to the driver’s seat by that steel rebar.

Beneath my slightly bulging abdomen lay our two-month-old unborn child.

Trembling, I let go of the phone soaked in blood. With my final ounce of strength, I dialed the funeral home.

“Hello. Near Highway 23… please come collect a body from a car crash.”

A pause came from the other end, followed by the routine question:

“Who are you to the deceased?”

All around me, only the rain hammered against the car windows, and my breath grew fainter and fainter. I forced out my last words:

“I am… the deceased herself.”

I divorced the same man nine times.
The first eight times, I was the one sobbing, begging him not to go.
The ninth time, I was the one who slid the papers across the table.
He signed them, then told me we'd remarry once she left.
I said okay.
What he didn't know was that my flight was already booked.
This time, I was leaving for good.

Ryan loves me deeply—at least that's what everyone says. Seven years together, we look like the perfect couple to outsiders. But only I know he's betrayed me three times.

The first time was three years ago. His brother died saving him, leaving behind his widow Sophia—Ryan's unforgettable first love. He married her behind my back. When I found out, I completely fell apart. I have dignity. I refuse to be the other woman. I wanted to leave, but he begged on his knees. "This is just to take care of my sister-in-law. Once I find the truth about my brother's death, I'll divorce her. Then we can get married."

I believed him. I forgot that a man never lets go of a lost love he's gotten back.

The second time was at last year's company anniversary. In front of everyone, he introduced Sophia as his wife. I watched them on stage, a knife through my heart. That night he explained, "It's just for show. Once everything's over, we can be together."

I believed him again.

The third time was two weeks ago. Surveillance footage showed Ryan with Sophia entering a hotel room. I rushed to confront him, but heard her voice outside his office. "Ryan, I'm pregnant. It's your baby."

Through the crack in the door, I see him hesitate. In that instant I understand.

He's going to keep her.

He spots me and rushes out in a panic. "It was an accident! Let me explain! After she has the baby, I'll give her money and make her leave. She won't be in our lives anymore!"

In that moment, I finally wake up. There will be no future for us.

Aurelia, princess of the Light Fae Clan, sacrificed everything to save Caleb, a young noble cursed with blood plague. She fed him her golden life‑blood, bound herself with a silence spell to hide imperial secrets, and swore to protect him forever—even if it cost her freedom.
Blinded by false accusations and manipulated by a cruel dark witch, Caleb turned on the woman who gave him life. He chained her with deadly cold iron, tore out her Life Core, imprisoned her in a freezing basement, and watched his beloved’s younger brother die by his own hand.
When Aurelia unleashes the forbidden stardust self‑destruction curse and fades into glowing ashes, Caleb finally uncovers the terrible truth. Drowning in endless regret and self‑loathing, he embarks on a brutal path of atonement—punishing the witch, saving the last surviving Fae, and torturing himself for years.
But some sins can never be washed away.Some saviors never return.And the noble who killed his Fae savior will pay with his life.

Here is the translation, adapted into the explosive, high-stakes style of a bestselling American domestic thriller. The pacing is sharp, and the emotional transition from shock to cold vengeance is deeply amplified:

For five years, I honestly believed I was the happiest woman alive.

Until today. The day I came home early and stood frozen just outside the balcony, listening to his phone call.

"What? Shuying, you're pregnant?" Tingshen's voice was laced with a raw, unbridled euphoria I had never once heard before. "I knew getting rid of Jiang Wan's baby back then was the right move."

My knuckles turned stark white as I death-gripped the ultrasound report in my hand.

Qin Shuying. My absolute worst rival. They had been sleeping together.

"Tingshen, are you sure she won't find out?" Shuying's sickeningly sweet voice drifted through the phone's speaker, piercing my eardrums. "If Jiang Wan ever realizes you were the one who killed her baby, she's going to raise hell."

"Relax." Tingshen laughed, his tone dripping with the kind of casual contempt reserved for swatting a fly. "She's so clueless. She honestly believes it was her own failing body. The stupid bitch even cried and apologized to me. She'd never in a million years suspect I drugged her."

My nails drove so brutally into my palms that they broke the skin.

"Besides, I finally got my hands on her core design drafts. Consider them a welcome gift for our baby. As for her shares in the company..." He paused, savoring his own smugness. "She's about to sign them all over to me anyway. So what if her old man built an empire? It's all dropping right into my lap."

The world tilted violently on its axis.

I was carrying his child again.

Just five minutes ago, before I overheard this monstrous phone call, I had been acting like a giddy fool, planning the perfect way to surprise him with the news.

My trembling hand drifted down to my lower stomach. My chest cracked open, a visceral, violent tearing of my own heart. The baby I had desperately longed for and mourned... chemically aborted by their own father, all to keep his mistress happy.

My sweet babies, I thought, the devastating sorrow rapidly freezing into sheer, icy rage. Mommy is going to make them pay for every drop of blood.

Siren's Reef only breeds women.
On this isolated island, Henrietta's orphanage takes in all fatherless girls. She raises us until our eighteenth birthday—the night of the "Coral Crowning," an annual coming-of-age ritual that supposedly earns the Sea God's blessing.
My sister Saffron and I are identical twins, raised wearing the exact same face.
But on this island, the same face doesn't spell the same fate. She was the one Henrietta spoiled from birth; I was the one allowed to trail behind her.
I thought it would always be this way. Until she died. Henrietta claimed Saffron broke the rules and was flayed alive by the serrated edges of the reef. But that day, I saw it with my own eyes: Saffron's signature dimple had appeared on Henrietta's cheek—where none had been before.

As the only daughter of a mafia family, I learned early that trust doesn't come cheap. When my father got sick, he gave me an ultimatum: if I want to take over the family, I have to get married first.

Everyone assumed I'd pick my childhood friend, Vincent Moretti—son of my father's right-hand man. Hell, even I thought so. Until my last life, when he left me to burn.

Father died in an ambush. I was trapped in a metal cage at an abandoned dock warehouse while flames swallowed everything. I begged Vincent for help. He stood thirty feet away, the cage key right by his feet.

"Cat, as long as your father's alive, he'll never give me the family. This isn't personal. It's business."

Sophia was wrapped around him—my so-called best friend. She smiled at me and said she'd take good care of everything.

Before I lost consciousness, I saw a figure in black charging into the flames—Elijah, the bodyguard I'd called "trash" and "a dog."

Then I opened my eyes and woke up a month before my birthday party. This time, I'm giving that position to someone who actually deserves it.

But why is Vincent on his knees at my engagement party, crying and begging me to marry him?

I hid in my best friend's closet to catch my fiancé cheating.
Through the gap in the door, I saw them on the bed. Tessa was blindfolded, wrists tied to the headboard with silk scarves. Callum's hands wrapped around her throat—some kind of breath play, I guessed.
Then her moaning turned to choking.
Her body convulsed. Her bound hands clawed at nothing. Her legs kicked against the mattress.
Then stopped.
Callum released her throat. Checked her pulse. Sighed.
And lit a cigarette.
He sat there scrolling his phone next to her body. No panic. No CPR. No 911.
Like this wasn't his first time watching someone die.
I bit my hand to keep from screaming. Blood seeped across the floor toward my bare feet.
Then he walked toward the closet.
I escaped that night. Barely. Ran three floors up to my neighbor's apartment—Dr. Neve Ashton, a trauma therapist. Beautiful. Warm. The kind of woman who made you feel safe just by existing.
She pulled me inside, locked the door, handed me tea.
"I called the police," she said. "They're on their way."
An hour passed. No sirens.
I looked at her. She smiled.

On the night of my 28th birthday, my husband was stuck in the OR.
The man sitting across from me at dinner was his best friend, Ronan.
I got drunk. Half-asleep, I pulled a man who smelled exactly like Nate into my bed.
When morning broke, the truth did too—the man pinning me down was Ronan. He’d used my husband’s cologne.
"From the first time I saw you, I wanted to steal you from him."
Crying, I confessed everything to Nate over the phone. Dead silence for three seconds, then he hung up.
By the time I rushed home, Ronan was dragging two suspiciously heavy black suitcases out the door. And my husband... vanished off the face of the earth.

In his eyes, I had always been "understanding." Understanding enough not to fight, not to make scenes, not to ask for status.

He said we couldn't go public now, but it was for our future.

Only later did I realize that his "future" never included me.

He chose power, chose arranged marriage, chose to keep me hidden. When I finally left, he started having regrets, started saying he loved me.

But by then I understood—he wasn't regretting losing me. He panicked because I was no longer obedient, no longer his.

So I never gave him another chance. I turned and walked away.

But that was only the first step.

I chose to let the truth surface at his moment of greatest triumph, to let him taste what it feels like to lose everything.

SEQUEL TO OUR VOWS DON'T MEAN A THING

Mia Evans is trapped in a loveless marriage to her husband Gabriel Evans. All opportunities for her to put her cheating husband in the past had flown out the window the moment she had delivered her baby.

Harvey Regal finds it difficult to hold onto one relationship. His parents had the perfect ending and his pursuits for that very feeling and commitment have left him unsatisfied and bored.

When your husband kept cheating and you're finally divorced,
you somehow had an ONS with your ex's single billionaire dad.
When you two dated, you run into your ex and his gf,
Ex🤨: We're not getting back together even if you beg my father to talk to me.
Dad😡: Son. Come meet your mom

"I, Charlotte Jane Attwood of the Crimson Moon Pack, reject you, Knox and Kane Maddox, as my mates and sever my bond to you both and your pack!" I recited, my eyes dancing with my unspoken pain seeing my mates entwined together with a female! A female who was not me!

Shaking my head of the tears I felt threatening to fall from my icy hues. I straightened and waited for them to accept my rejection! But the words that left their lips left me stunned.

"I, Knox Maddox and Alpha to the Crimson moon pack refuse to accept your rejection!" He snarled, slipping from the bed, naked and unashamed to step into me, the female sprawled out on the bed forgotten. Kane was quick on his heels, the pair caging me in a wall of muscle and testosterone.

"You belong to us, Lottie! I, Kane Maddox, Alpha of the Crimson Moon Pack, refuse to accept your rejection."

"Ours!" Knox repeated anger swimming in his baby blues.


Follow the story of Charlotte, Knox and Kane as they try to find their footing in a cruel world filled with betrayal, heartbreak and secret obsessions that threaten to destroy the bonds of brotherhood and love!

After Grace Foster married into the Hayes family, everyone eagerly awaited the day she would give birth to an heir for the ailing young master. Grace thought marrying Alexander Hayes meant she was doomed to a lonely life, especially since her husband was in a coma. But to her surprise, he suddenly woke up. Overnight, with nothing more than a divorce agreement, she was cast aside by the wealthy family.
Seven years later, Grace returns with two sons by her side—and a line of men eager to become their stepdad. The thing Alexander regrets most is forcing Grace to sign those divorce papers. Now, the once-proud man will do anything to win her back—showering her with love, even risking everything for her.
But winning her heart again isn’t so easy, especially when his two mischievous sons seem determined to stand in his way. Alexander never expected that the biggest obstacle on his journey to win back his wife would be these two little troublemakers!

Hi, My name is Kat and I feel like I should make something clear. I am no expert on magic and there's no reason why I should be. Us humans only discovered that magic exists a few years ago and really it wasn't the big deal you would expect. it exists, I don't have any magic of my own so it makes no difference to my life.

So when I get asked to play tour guide for a stupidly handsome fae as he attempts to capture some escaped criminals I realise that the fae know about as much about us as we do about them. I find myself helping him navigate weird human things like mobile phones, credit cards and why we wait at red lights when there are no cars approaching.

It's safe to say that I'm a little overwhelmed by it all.

But it will be fine, right? I mean, It's not like I'm the one facing down criminals or, even worse... Crazy fae fangirls. All I have to do is show the hot guy around and do my best not to embarrass myself too much in the process. What could go wrong?

Wish me luck!

"She was mine first," Dimitri whispered, his voice deadly calm. "And you stole her in the dark."
Dimitri and Alexei Volkov—twin brothers, mafia kings, two halves of a single shadow. They ruled cities together, buried enemies together, breathed through each other’s rage and silence. Nothing had ever broken them. Not bullets. Not blood. Not betrayal from the outside world.
Until her.
Irina was Dimitri’s quiet refuge, the only softness in his brutal life. His maid… yet the only woman he ever allowed close. She soothed him without knowing it. She steadied the chaos he lived in. Over time, she became the one thing he couldn’t live without.
He loved her. Deeply. Quietly. In a way a monster shouldn’t love anyone.
But one night changed everything.
A drunken party. A dark hallway. A room lit only by shadows. Alexei wearing Dimitri’s robe. Irina whispering a name that wasn’t his. A mistake born from darkness—a moment that spiraled into sin.
And now… Irina carries the child of the wrong brother.
When Dimitri learns the truth, something inside him shatters. Rage becomes a living thing in his chest. Alexei’s smirk—claiming Irina, claiming the baby—turns brotherhood into war.
For the first time in their lives, the Volkov twins are standing on opposite sides.
One wants the woman he loves.
One wants the woman who will give him an heir.
And Irina… is trapped between a love she didn’t choose and a fate she never asked for.
Two brothers.
One woman.
A child powerful enough to crown one king…
and destroy the other.
In the Volkov world, betrayal is paid in blood.
And this time, the blood spilled may belong to the brothers themselves.
When this war ends… who will be left standing?

[Where is Bryce?] I signed.

Serena's lips curled into a cruel smile. "Looking for your husband?" She tilted the phone away from her face, panning across the rumpled sheets until the camera revealed Bryce.
 
He was naked, sprawled across the king-sized bed, fast asleep. One arm stretched beneath Serena's neck, the other hand rested possessively on her bare breast.

"He's exhausted," Serena whispered, the camera returning to her smirking face. "We've been at it for hours. Did you know he calls my name when he comes? Has he ever done that with you?"

Evelyn lost her voice due to an accident in her childhood, which made her the mute wife when married to Bryce Finch. After three years of marriage, her husband ignored her, her mother-in-law despised her, and her husband's lover humiliated her. On her birthday, Evelyn recorded the evidence of her husband's infidelity and decided to leave this marriage. Just then, she discovered that she was pregnant. What’s more, she found that there were still many secrets about herself that remained unsolved... Thus, she began her counterattack.

"In the dawn of the darkest hour, a man will come in search of you. I would suggest you escape but your destiny wouldn't. For the truth that you search for and the werewolf in you, will want to fight him. That is when you'll meet yourself."
Eve Mitchel, a lonesome werewolf lives in the world disguised as a human in England. Under brewing circumstances, she is kidnapped by the Alpha King of the Moon-Wolfland as his assistant. Her journey sets out as an assistant turns slave serving an intimidating king that she can't help but resist.
Will a naive outcast find her path through heart-shattering truths and make it till the end?

"Ava," Alex's voice rumbled across the room, a playful glint in his drunken eyes, "but you're not her, are you? You're someone else."Evie, heart hammering against her ribs, forced a casual smile.

"I don't understand" she stammered, hating the way her voice wobbled, because he was right. He raised an eyebrow, hand reaching out to cup her face. "Some days it really feels like you are and on other days..." Before he could finish, he closed his eyes, falling asleep.

Evie's breath hitched. But how could he know? A cold dread pooled in her stomach."Alex, I—" she began, but the words died on her lips. Evie's carefully constructed world tilted on its axis.

Could he see through the charade? Had her deception finally caught up to her? In From Lies to Love: Deceiving My Sexy Billionaire, Evie must confront the consequences of her deception as love and truth collide in a high-stakes game of hearts.

He called her boring. He said their marriage was a mistake. Then he left her bleeding, heartbroken... and pregnant.

Lily devoted seven years of her life to a man who only saw her as a convenience. When her husband, Alex, demanded a divorce, she begged him to stay only to discover he'd already proposed to his ex… and planned it all behind her back.

But betrayal wasn’t the end, it was just the beginning.

Left for dead, humiliated, and crushed by the ultimate heartbreak, Lily had nothing, until a billionaire stranger offered her a deal: a contract marriage, a new identity, and a chance to make the man who shattered her beg on his knees.

She accepted.

Now, Lily is no longer the soft-spoken housewife he threw away, she's the storm he never saw coming. Beautiful. Untouchable. Dangerous.
And Alex? He’s about to learn that the woman he underestimated is now the one who holds all the power. He broke her soul. Now she’s coming for him…

Rejected by her husband, Alpha, Evangeline decisively chooses divorce, only to discover he's deeply in love with his eldest brother's wife. Heartbroken, Evangeline is forced to feign innocence, guiding her husband to remove the mark he's placed on her so she can truly find freedom. Orphaned and without family, Evangeline's only source of warmth is her adopted brother, the handsome and powerful Alpha. But that warmth didn't last a few years before he ruthlessly abandoned her. Evangeline has always been the one who was not chosen, but when Alpha finally lost her, he realized he'd fallen deeply in love with her. Evangeline also gradually discovered the truth behind her brother's abandonment. What choice will she make?

Zara Torres has three rules at Harlow University: no athletic dorm drama, no boring elective classes, and absolutely, under no circumstances, no hockey players.

She's broken all three before October.

Now she's stuck writing a semester-long profile on Declan Mercer starting center, criminally good at skating backward, and the most inconveniently interesting person she's met since arriving at Harlow. He's easygoing where she's structured, instinctive where she's methodical, and somehow always exactly where she isn't expecting him to be.

Which, as it turns out, is a problem.

Zara knows how to land on her feet. She's been doing it since the fall that broke her wrist and her confidence in one clean moment two years ago. She doesn't need a hockey player dissecting her skating footage at midnight or texting her things that are too honest for seven AM.

She definitely doesn't need him to be right.

But just as something real starts forming between them something unscripted, something she didn't prepare for a single email pulls the assignment and threatens to take everything with it.

Some edges are sharper than they look.

And some falls are worth the landing.

“You don’t know me,” he murmured, pressing me against the mirrored wall of the room, his gaze sharp, burning with an intensity that made my heart race. “But your fiancé calls me ‘Uncle.’”
Uncle?
I gasped, trying and failing to stay composed. “Then why are you here?”
He leaned in, his voice low, almost a whisper. “To stop you from making the biggest mistake of your life—by marrying me instead.

Celeste Ashford had always been the perfect daughter—silent, obedient, and engaged to the man her family chose. But perfection is a prison, and the price is her life. Betrayed by her fiancé and half-sister and murdered by her stepmother, Celeste’s story should have ended in the coldness of a hospital room.
But fate had other plans.
She is reborn a month before her death, Celeste makes a choice that shatters the Ashford legacy—she walks away from her engagement and marries his uncle instead. Lucien Blackwell is cold, calculating, and infuriatingly untouchable. Their marriage is a contract. Their chemistry, undeniable. But behind his detached mask lies a secret powerful enough to bring empires to their knees—just like the one Celeste plans to burn down.
As lies unravel and enemies close in, Celeste discovers that her new husband isn’t who he claims to be. Neither is she. Because this time, she’s the woman rewriting the rules.
This time, she is out for revenge.

After eight years in the military, Frank Moore returned to New York.

He had intended to attend his comrade's sister's wedding, only to witness her being utterly humiliated by mafia thugs, forced to drink their foot-washing water.

Enraged, Frank crippled the young thug's legs, condemning him to a wheelchair for life.

Faced with assassins from both the underworld and above, Frank made a phone call.

Hundreds of elite mercenaries descended from the sky, and the entire New York mafia fell to their knees in terror.

The tide in New York was about to turn!

Shen BoHuai held an unlit cigar between his fingers, his eyes cold as ice.
When his gaze swept over me, there was not a trace of warmth—only bone-deep hatred.
"Ji TangZhou, know your place."
His voice was low and husky, every word cutting clearly into my ears.
"Starting today, you are no longer the adopted daughter doted on by the Shen family. From now on, you’re nothing but a nanny, a servant to wait on LingYi."
My body trembled violently, my fingers clutching tightly at the hem of my clothes.
I lifted my head, eyes red-rimmed, my voice trembling uncontrollably: "Shen BoHuai, you went to so much trouble to find me, just to make me be your and Jiang LingYi’s nanny? What right do you have? What happened back then..."
"Shut up!" Shen BoHuai cut me off sharply, crushing the cigar hard into the ashtray.

The night before the engagement, Rosaline was tricked by her cousin. She was drunk and sent to a stranger’s room. She broke free from their control, went to the next room through the window, and had a one-night stand with a mysterious man.

She didn't want to have anything to do with him, so she matched wits with him and finally escaped. The man stared at silhouette with a smile: "You will never escape from me."

It was five years later when they met again. Neither of them recognized each other, but she was stopped by him in a dramatic way,
"Sir, anything can I do for you?"
"Yes."
"So, what's the matter?"
"I need a wife." He looked at her, and his lips twitching slightly.
"Sir, I don't quite understand what you mean."
"I needed a wife, and you are just the right one for me."
"What! Why?"
"I don't like women who are too beautiful or too smart."
“...”
"I'll see you at the Bureau House at ten a.m. tomorrow."
“...”
What?Was she proposed by the richest bachelor in this City!

“Well, now you’re a widow,” he said, smearing the blood of the man I had just married across my face before pulling his hand away. “What a pity. I am going to make you my mistress too",

“And nobody runs from me, mate.”

Four desperate men—Adrian Kane, Liam Cross, Ezra Black, and Damien Hart—receive identical invitations promising unimaginable wealth in just thirty days.
There’s only one condition: survive.

Taken to a secluded estate and cut off from the outside world, they are thrown into a series of escalating challenges where failure is not an option—it’s a death sentence. What begins as a high-stakes competition for money quickly turns into something far more sinister: a controlled experiment designed by a shadowy organization that rewards ruthlessness and punishes hesitation.

Alliances form. Trust shatters. And every decision comes with a cost.

As the days grow darker, the truth becomes clear—this is not a game meant to be beaten. It is a system designed to break them, reshape them, and choose only one survivor.

In the end, only one will walk away.

And survival may be the worst fate of all

Accepting her fate as a slave, Danica Grimsley, the low born Omega never thought that she had to share her love not with her mate Konrad Winston only but with his enemy as well, Cassius Winston, the king of Lycans. When secrets threatened to spoil her life, Danica needed to choose between revenge and fate. Worst of all, both Alphas wanted not just her body but her soul.

When I called my husband with trembling hands, clutching my cancer diagnosis, all I heard was his sweet laughter with his young, hot influencer girlfriend. Ten years of marriage, and when I needed him most, he chose betrayal.

In divorce court, I was painted as the "crazy ex-wife" while the entire internet mocked me. Everyone took their side. No one knew I was fighting for my life.

Until the day he finally learned the truth.

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

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

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

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

I gave my Alpha fiancé to my stepsister.

My mother's face lit up. "You're giving Damon to Maya? Don't come crying later, Kira. That man is the most powerful Alpha alive."

I won't. Never again.

Last life, I married him. Suffocated for three years.

He wanted a perfect Luna. I showed up to the full moon gala in a mini skirt. The elite ladies circled in—*"Shameless. Like a bitch in heat."* Damon walked over, draped his jacket over my shoulders.

I thought he was protecting me.

"Must you embarrass me like this?" His voice cut like ice. "Every damn time."

That's when I knew: he loved the perfect Luna. Not me.

Then came the conservative gowns, endless etiquette training, and every time I fought back—*"Pack law, Kira. Obey."*

Until the flames took me, I swore: If I ever got another chance, I would never marry that man.

I woke the night before our engagement and pushed the contract away. "Let Maya be his perfect Luna. I just want my freedom."

But I didn't expect—

When Damon discovered the switch, the cold Alpha completely lost it.

"Where is my son?"
My husband wouldn't look at me.
I had just come out of anesthesia. The bassinet next to my hospital bed was empty — except for a stack of cash, a christening card, and a ring pinned to the corner of the card.
The card had another woman's name in the godmother box.
That woman walked in behind my husband. She picked up the ring and slid it onto her own finger.
"He's safe, sweetheart. We've been talking about this for months."
My husband is Damiano Marchetti. He runs the family that runs this city. The woman wearing the ring is his father's young widow.
The baby on that card is my son.
For four years now I have been the woman this house pretends not to see. The wife told to use the servants' entrance. The mother of a boy who calls another woman Mommy.
Last night I asked my husband for a divorce.
He laughed in my face.
He has no idea how much that's going to cost him.

The Vane family has carried the vampire's curse for generations. Of every pair of twin sisters born into our bloodline, one will not live to see twenty-five.

Everyone assumed it was my sister — the one always coughing up blood.

Nobody knew that for twenty years, every full moon, the one gritting her teeth through the pain, never making a sound, was me.

The Divine took pity on me and gave me three chances. Win the genuine love of my parents, my brother, or my husband — any one of them — and the curse would lift.

Three chances. Three failures.

The only hope I had left was the baby inside me, seven months along. Bring him into this world, and I'd live.

Then my husband kicked open my hospital room door. My own brother pulled on a surgical gown and picked up a knife. My parents signed the forms outside.

They were going to cut me open, take the last thing keeping me alive, and use it to save my "cursed" sister.

After my life slipped away entirely, the truth came out.

So why is it that the people who sent me to my death are the ones who lost their minds?

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

I saw a post on Reddit, "Urgent! How do I convince my wife to donate bone marrow to my mistress?"

I scoffed and typed back, "What a piece of shit."

Right after I hit send, my husband came home. He grasped my hand, his voice shaky: "You have leukemia... but it's okay, we found a donor."

His right eye twitched—he always did that when he lied.

Then I remembered the worst comment on that post, "Trick your wife into thinking she's the patient."

Life imitating the internet, apparently.

He wanted to harvest my bone marrow for someone else.

When I finally saw his mistress's face, my world fell apart.

I never thought his mistress would be her......

Connor Mitchell and I are the golden couple of our industry. Everyone sees him as the devoted husband, always bringing me soup when I work late into the night.

On our fifth wedding anniversary, he gave me an expensive diamond necklace and posted something sweet on Instagram. The comments were all variations of the same thing: jealousy.

I used to believe it too.

Until I cut my trip to Europe short and got into that SUV. The passenger seat was set at the wrong angle, too far forward for my height. A contact lens case fell out of the sun visor, and neither of us wears contacts.

When I had my cousin pull the dashcam footage and saw him with his arm around some petite girl getting into the car, the truth hit me. My attentive husband, the one who called me every night I was away, had been using my connections and resources to play successful mentor to a twenty-two-year-old intern.

The irony is, he thinks he's gotten away with it. He has no idea I can see right through every move he makes.

Once rot sets into a perfect marriage, no amount of perfume can hide the stench.

In my past life, the night before the National Cheerleading Championship finals, my "best friend" Lily, the scholarship student I'd been sponsoring, handed me a brownie she claimed she'd "baked herself."

She knew I had a deadly peanut allergy. Yet she'd loaded it with concentrated peanut butter.

When I collapsed on the locker room floor, hives erupting across my skin, my throat swelling shut until I couldn't make a sound, Lily just covered her mouth and nestled into my boyfriend Liam's arms, whimpering: "I'm so sorry, Chloe. I'm such an idiot. I mixed up the peanut butter with chocolate... you won't blame me, right?"

Of course I blamed you.

The quarterback I'd loved for three years didn't call 911. Instead, he frowned down at me convulsing on the ground.

"Chloe, stop faking, okay?" Liam's voice dripped with annoyance. "Lily already apologized. Why do you have to put on this dramatic show to scare her? You're always so controlling."

Controlling?

My airway was closing. My lungs were on fire. I was dying, and I couldn't force out a single word to tell him.

They didn’t call an ambulance until I stopped moving, but by the time it got there, it was too late. I was already dead.

When the police questioned him, Liam gave false testimony to protect Lily. He claimed I was afraid of losing the competition, so I tried to use an allergic reaction to avoid competing, but accidentally ingested too much of the allergen and died.

The man who said he loved me let me die with the reputation of a coward.

When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on that day.

🔞⚠️Rated 18+ | Mature Content Warning
This book is for adults only. It contains explicit sex, strong language, and mature themes. Read at your own risk or pleasure.

Wet Desires:{Erotica Collection} brings you a mix of raw, unapologetic short stories where fantasies aren’t just imagined, they’re lived. Behind every door is a moment where control slips, tension snaps, and pleasure takes over.

Strangers meet with one goal. Ex-lovers face what’s still unfinished. Friends cross lines they swore they never would. These stories are fast, hot, and messy in the most erotic way.

You’ll find dominant men who don’t ask twice, women who want more and don’t hide it, and nights that blur into mornings with no regrets.

There’s no slow burn here. No holding back. Just skin, heat, and the kind of desire that won’t wait.

If you want stories that hit hard, turn you on, make you sexually aroused, leave you wanting more and breathless, Wet Desires:{Erotica Collection} is for you.