8551 Book(s) Related to a gift from the goddess dawn rosewood

This is a m/f/m erotica

With the witches at war with the werewolves and vampires, it's up to King Allesandro to step up and eliminate the threats. But then something happens. He finds his beloved. He never thought he and his brother could ever find their mate. They never wanted one... until her. The obedient servant to the twin vampires. They love to share her and make her succumb to their needs. And she loves to serve them.

Five years ago, they stripped me of my rank and stopped my retirement pay. Now, with the Imperial army at the gates, they kneel at my door, begging for my services. My daughter is wearing last year's shoes, her big toe practically sticking out. My wife is still refilling coffee at a fast-food restaurant at 3 a.m. The neighbors call me "that welfare-dependent guy" behind my back. I pulled my five-year-old dismissal order from under the bill and slipped it under the door. "You've got the wrong person."

For twenty years, Belle Sloan believed she had the perfect life, a loving husband, a devoted son, and a powerful business empire. But one shocking revelation shatters everything. The son she raised isn't hers. Her husband and stepsister have secretly loved each other for years. And the family she sacrificed everything for was nothing more than a carefully crafted lie.

Tessa gave up everything for her husband—her career, her family, her dignity—only to be discarded when his past walked back into his life.
Broken, she signs the divorce papers and leaves.

Years later, she returns as a woman the world kneels before and Smith realizes too late that the wife he broke has become the reckoning he cannot escape.

She's back powerful, untouchable, and unforgiving.

This time, she isn’t asking for love.
She’s collecting debts.

At 2:00 AM, I lay in bed with my eyes closed, my fingers digging desperately into the flesh of my inner thigh.

Crack... Crunch... A stomach-churning sound of dislocating bones drifted from the foot of the bed. Immediately after, a cloying stench of dead fish rolled over the mattress.

A cold, stiff finger traced my jawline and pressed down hard on my carotid artery. It was feeling for a pulse.

"Darling..."

A bizarre, dual-layered echo came from directly above my head. A cold, bloody drop of meat juice smacked right onto my eyelid.

But I didn't dare let my breathing falter for even a fraction of a beat.

Because I knew—the thing currently staring dead at me, hanging upside down from the ceiling like a spider with its limbs bent backward, was absolutely not the wife I had spent the last ten years with.

This monster leaned in close, looking at me like I'm sort of ant, and roared right at my face.
I almost passed out from fright at the sight of the beast.
'Is this how I die?' I questioned as I shook fraily under the best.
When our eyes met, something stood out and for some reason, I instantly knew who it was.
It was Kieran Blackwood. The Exiled Alpha.

***

Lilith’s life has always been defined by duty. Raised by Alpha Zander after being orphaned, she is now bound to marry his son and become Luna of the Silverfang Pack, a fate she never chose. But on the day she’s forced to the altar, her world is upended when a rogue alpha, Kieran Blackwood—the Exiled Alpha feared across the land—attacks, leaving chaos in his wake and taking Lilith hostage.
In the shadow of old enemies and pack rivalries, Kieran is hiding secrets of his own, and Lilith might be the key to his redemption—or his downfall. As war looms and enemies close in, Lilith must decide where her heart truly lies... before it's too late.

At the red carpet event, Maddie, my partner of three years, in an attempt to curry favor with a popular male star, publicly humiliated me, trampling on my foot and yelling, "Ethan, you're just a backstage errand boy

. Don't interfere with Ryan's shots. Go back to carrying materials." The whole room burst into laughter; everyone thought I was a lowly sycophant forced to swallow my humiliation.

But I didn't get angry. I calmly took out my tablet, cut off all her studio's basic permissions with a single click, and immediately sent the irrefutable evidence of her breach of contract to the brand's legal department.

Three minutes later, she was completely stripped of her control and faced a multi-million dollar claim for breach of contract.

At first, she thought I was just acting out of spite, that a little charity would win me back. It wasn't until the day her assets were forcibly liquidated and she was completely blacklisted from the industry that she desperately realized: for the past three years, she had only been able to sit at the table because of my charity.

Later, shamelessly, she crawled through garbage cans, barefoot, to the airport, knelt before my bulletproof Maybach, and begged me to come back.

As for me, I simply walked onto the private jet surrounded by executives from top European conglomerates.

My father died owing the Callahan family a blood debt. His payment? Me and my sister—married off to their sons.

I woke up reborn on the night they buried him.

Standing in that funeral chamber, watching the lawyer crack open the sealed will, I discovered I could suddenly hear thoughts. My sister Vivienne's voice ripped through my head: Not marrying that butcher. No way in hell.

She lunged forward and grabbed Adrian—the refined bastard son who looked like a lawyer instead of a mobster. The same "perfect gentleman" I married in my past life.

Which left me with Dominic Callahan. The scarred heir. The Executioner.

Last time around, Vivienne married Dominic and got beaten down for years. I married Adrian and lived like a queen.

I almost laughed out loud.

Because she has no idea—this time, she's the one who grabbed the monster.

Five years ago, I pulled a dying man from the depths of the ocean.
His name was Silas. When he woke up, he looked me in the eye and swore he'd marry me, that he'd protect me for the rest of his life.
I believed him.
I hid it from my clan, shed my tail, and followed him to land. I bore him a daughter—Winnie. I kept myself locked away in a villa, out of sight from the world. No wedding. No ring. Even the mermaid scales on Winnie's legs had to be covered up with layers and layers of concealer.
Until that night at the banquet. Zoe and her goons pinned us both to the tile by the pool, scraping the scales off Winnie's legs with a knife, sneering that this "filth" was such an eyesore.
I stroked her mangled calf, desperate for Silas to come save us. But Zoe said Silas was her fiancé.
Silas? Her fiancé?
Then what the hell am I?

"I need you to erase Elena Cavalli completely," I said, sliding an untraceable check across the table.

People say my husband Vito Cavalli broke every mafia code for me. The heir who knelt before all five family bosses and named an ordinary woman his godmother.

For three years, he convinced the world we were in love. He told the press I was why he went legitimate, why he gave up the gun.

But devotion has an expiration date.

While I basked in his affection, believing I was cherished, he was climbing into another woman's bed.

So I walked away.

When I disappeared, he shattered.

He tore through every corner of the globe hunting for me. But the woman he'd once traded his empire for didn't love him enough to turn around.

Before I died, I married mob boss Dante in my sister's place.

Five years of marriage, and I was nothing but her replacement. He hated me for stealing her spot. My parents were ashamed I couldn't make him love me. Everyone just waited for her to come back.

Christmas Eve—fire tore through the mountain estate. Dante's first move? Sprint straight to my sister, fresh off the plane. My parents escaped right behind him. Nobody remembered the pregnant wife locked in the dressing room. Smoke and flames took me and my baby while they held each other outside, celebrating they'd made it out alive.

I opened my eyes on the day they cornered me with divorce papers.

My parents threw the documents at me. My sister stood there smirking, ready to slide into my place. This time? I didn't cry. Didn't beg. I picked up the pen and signed.

They wanted me gone? Done.

My mate lost his memory and fell in love with another woman.

Alpha Killian Cross forgot our five-year bond after a rogue attack. Sandra, the Omega who saved him, became his new obsession. I fought to restore his memories—and succeeded.

But the day he remembered me was the day Sandra killed herself. Killian blamed me for her death and chose to hate me instead.

When rogues attacked our pack, he died taking a hit meant for me. His last words? "I wish you'd never made me remember. I wish you'd let me love her."

Now I'm back—reborn to the day I first found him with Sandra. This time, I won't fight for his memories. This time, I'll let him keep his happiness with her.

Even if it kills me all over again.

I'd been married to Nikolai Konstantin for three years. In that time, I'd miscarried six times for him—nearly died on the operating table once.

Every time I woke up, this cold-blooded mafia boss would hold my hand and say, "I'm sorry you had to go through this. Should we try again?"

I thought he loved me.

Until my seventh pregnancy, when I saw that video—

My sister Scarlett curled up in his arms, crying: "Nik, she's had six miscarriages... what if something happens to her? It's all my fault. My heart condition won't let me carry a baby..."

Nikolai kissed the top of her head: "Don't worry, baby. Her body can handle a few more tries. I promised you a child, and I always keep my promises."

That was when I finally understood—

The child in my womb had NEVER been ours.

For five years, my crime boss husband made me take off my wedding ring nine times—all for his precious damsel in distress.
When we first married, he promised me: "From now on, you're my queen, the queen of New Orleans."
But whenever Odette came crying for help, he'd change his tune: "Mr. Laurent saved my life, Cordelia. I owe his family everything."
And like a fool, I believed him eight times.
Eight times I watched from the shadows as he took another woman to our favorite restaurants.
Eight times I explained to the crew that our "separation" was just giving each other space.
Eight times I watched her move into my bedroom, use my dishes, sleep in my bed.
All for a man who kept making me slip off my ring, then slide it back on, over and over again.
Until the ninth time, when he said he needed to provide sperm for her fertility treatment, and I offered to leave.
He still thinks this is just another temporary break, expecting me to come crawling back in a month like always.
He'll never know I've already booked my ticket out of here.

The day I won the competition, my sister's heart "failed," and she could never stand again.

From that moment, she claimed all the favoritism.

Looking at my wall of honors, she sat in her wheelchair, heartbroken: "Chloe is so amazing, unlike me—just a burden who could die any moment."

My brother's heart ached for her. He grabbed a baseball bat and smashed all my trophies to pieces, defending her honor.

When I was selected as dance troupe captain, tears streamed down her face: "If I hadn't gotten sick, could I have shined on the Lincoln Center stage too?"

My parents turned to scold me for showing off, drugging me before the audition and ruining my chances.

Later, she had a breakdown and went live on Instagram, swallowing pills while sobbing that she didn't deserve love.

My childhood sweetheart, my fiancé, rushed to her side immediately. He dropped to one knee and slipped my diamond engagement ring onto her finger.

Later, I was killed by an armed robber. As I lay dying, I made one last desperate call for help.

He hung up impatiently:

"Mia needs me to hold her hand during her IV treatment. Stop being so fucking unreasonable!"

When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day my sister's heart "failed."

The night I almost drank myself to death at a client dinner, my husband Alexander bought his first love a luxury yacht.

Maya posted it on Instagram that same night: "Best birthday gift EVER! You know who you are 💕🛥️~"

In the photo, she was in a bikini, champagne in hand, glowing with joy.

Then came the credit card alert—our joint account had been maxed out.

Before I could even confront him, Alexander called.

"Are you serious right now? Why'd you lock the card? Maya's been struggling with her depression—she needs to go sailing to clear her head! Why can't you show some compassion?"

I wanted to tell him that last night, I'd nearly killed myself closing a deal for his company.

But he'd already hung up.

Later that evening, Maya posted again—an extravagant jewelry set. The caption: "When someone truly GETS you 💎✨"

In the photo, she wore a diamond ring I never got, not even on my wedding day.

But by then, I was done caring.

Because I'd made my decision—to disappear completely.

They said I killed them all.

My father. My daughter. My brother's legs. One explosion, one moment of selfishness, and I became the family murderer.

My husband Dominic—the most feared mafia boss in the city—drowned himself in whiskey. I drowned myself in something worse.

Three years on the pole. Three years with strangers' cash stuffed in my bra, their cocks shoved down my throat, their fists in back alleys, their cameras catching every degradation. Three years swallowing cum and shame to scrape together half a million for my brother's surgery.

Then the doctors found the tumor. Three months left.

One last show, I told myself. A blindfolded performance. Enough to pay off Ethan's debt before I died.

That's when someone ripped off my blindfold.

Dominic.

Behind him stood my very-alive father. And Ethan—on two perfect legs, kicking aside an empty wheelchair. And my adopted sister Vanessa, draped over my husband, flashing a diamond ring.

This whole performance? Her birthday present.

"Surprise, sweetheart." Dominic smiled. "The explosion was fake. We just needed to put you in your place."

Ethan laughed. "Three years of stripper money made one hell of a party, sis."

My father still wouldn't look at me. "Learn to treat Vanessa right, or you're no daughter of mine."

The room exploded in laughter.

I stood there, diagnosis crumpled in my fist.

The explosion was fake. The crippled legs were fake. Everything was fake.

But the cancer eating my brain?

That was real.

Caspian kept me locked in the basement as a living blood bank.
This mafia don was also my husband. Ever since he discovered I could heal instantly, I became nothing more than a consumable—kept alive to sustain another woman.
That woman in the hospital bed was his stepmother in name, his forbidden obsession in reality—the desire he could never speak aloud.
Unable to claim her, he went mad. He tried to fill her dying body with my life.
When she was poisoned, he forced toxins down my throat to test antidotes, watching coldly as I convulsed on the floor, vomiting black blood.
When assassins came for her, he yanked me in front as a human shield, letting bullets turn my body into a sieve.
Covered in blood, I clutched his pant leg, begging through tears for him to just kill me.
But to protect his precious stepmother, he kicked me away without hesitation, his voice utterly cold: "Stop playing dead, Aria. You're a monster. You can't die anyway."
What he didn't know was that every time a mermaid heals, she burns through her soul's essence.
Through each shattering and mending, he was draining my very source of life.
Today, he strapped me to the operating table again, ready to drain more blood for his forbidden love.
He had no idea this would be the last time.

Seven years of marriage, and I was nothing but a joke.
My husband destroyed the roses I'd spent years nurturing—just to please my sister. My son, desperate for his aunt's approval, pointed at me and called me a "bad mom."
One day, the whole family took a vote to force me into donating bone marrow. Ethan, my husband, didn't hesitate. He raised his hand and said, "Erin, it's just a little bone marrow. Leah will die without you."
That was the moment my heart broke.
The surgery was a success.
When the anesthesia wore off, Ethan was gripping my hand tightly, eyes bloodshot, voice trembling with remorse. "Erin, I was a fool before. If you save Leah, I swear I'll spend the rest of my life loving only you."
He thought I'd grovel, grateful like a dog, desperate for his forgiveness.
But I just frowned in disgust and pulled my hand away as if shaking off trash.
In the dead silence, I looked at the tear-streaked man before me and asked, polite and confused:
"Sir... who are you?"

Five years ago, on my wedding day, my fiancé Vincent fucked my best friend in the bridal suite.

Five years later, I returned to New York with my husband—the most powerful Mafia boss in Naples. At Atelier Milano, my former best friend Bianca circled my custom gown like a vulture, pestering the staff about meeting the legendary Mrs. Salvatore.

She had no idea the woman she pitied as a pathetic nobody was the very person she was dying to impress.

I saved a dying mobster three years ago. Vincent Ricci—New York's most feared Godfather.

He decided I was his. Private jets, five-million-dollar proposals, the whole nine yards. I fell for it.

The night before our wedding, his enemies took me. Three days of torture left me blind. Everyone said he'd never marry damaged goods. He married me anyway and spent three years treating me like a queen.

Yesterday I fell down the stairs and my sight came back.

But that's when I found out about my perfect husband's dirty secret.

Because of his grandfather's dying wish, Supreme Court Chief Justice Garrick Vance—the most powerful beast-shifter in the city—was forced to marry me, a human court clerk who had secretly loved him for years.

For six years we pretended to be strangers at work while he remained ice-cold toward me and our daughter Wren at home. When his celebrity ex-girlfriend Seraphina returned from overseas, I watched him come alive for another woman—attending her parties, rushing to her side at midnight.

Meanwhile, our five-year-old daughter waited every night for a father who never came home.

The day Wren nearly died from his careless gift, I finally signed the mate bond dissolution papers.

This time, he's lost us forever.

I hid in shadows for six years while my vampire husband played duke with his mistress.

Lucian kept our marriage secret, called our daughter "the half-blood bastard," and rushed to comfort Seraphina's twisted ankle while five-year-old Vanessa nearly died from silver poisoning.

His precious lover had "gifted" my child deadly perfume. While I held my convulsing daughter, he was cutting cake with his real family.

So I handed him divorce papers during his next dramatic rescue mission. Fool signed without reading—too busy playing hero to notice he just legally abandoned his wife and child.

Now the mighty vampire Duke burns under holy sunlight, chasing us to territories his undead flesh can't survive.

Begging on scorched pavement for a second chance he'll never get.

I thought I was marrying the New York Godfather out of love. I didn't know I was just a walking blood bank for his fake 'savior'—my illegitimate half-sister.

My father, my brother, my husband... they bled me dry, framed me, and even demanded my unborn baby's cord blood to keep a murderer alive.

When I finally learned the truth, I didn't cry. I didn't scream.
I simply locked the doors, scheduled the emails that would shatter their reality, and left them a charred corpse in a towering sea of fire.

They thought they watched me burn. I let them descent into absolute madness.

My roommate provoked a demon, dragging me into a deadly hunt. Eerie mirror visions and ominous warnings kept coming. Just as I was on the verge of breaking, I discovered my roommate was hiding a shocking secret—and my being hunted was never an accident.

"You sure dispatch called this... natural causes?" I gripped the steering wheel, staring at the perfect suburban house.
"That's what they said," Gates muttered. The victim's father, Arthur, stood at the door in pressed khakis, weeping.
He swore his daughter, Grace, died in her sleep last night after eating vanilla pudding.
But the moment we stepped inside, a suffocating cocktail of cheap lavender spray and rotting meat punched me in the sinuses.
In the living room, SpongeBob SquarePants was blasting at maximum volume. Grace was slumped in a recliner. When Gates gently pinched her wrist to lift her arm, a sickeningly soft, tearing rip echoed in the room.
Her grayish skin completely degloved, fused to the leather armrest. Beneath the liquefied muscle tissue, frantic rows of tiny white maggots wriggled into the exposed bone.
A body that died "last night" doesn't breed maggots.

"Whoever left that wild strawberry scent on my bed is dead," the severely germaphobic captain posted.
I froze. It was me.
Now, my idiot brother just locked me in Ronan's room to pay off a debt. Ronan ignored my boyish disguise. Leaning in, his nose brushed my hood.
"Wild strawberry," he whispered, a dangerous smirk forming. "It WAS you."

My husband suffered a massive heart attack mid-thrust inside my best friend.

Now, the ER doctors are clutching his surgical consent forms, waiting for me—the legal wife—to sign.

Over the phone, my mother-in-law shrieked in absolute despair while my best friend sobbed in terror.

I turned a deaf ear to them, taking my time to admire my makeup in the mirror.

There was absolutely no rush. Waiting until I changed into this pitch-black mourning dress to slowly watch his countdown to death wouldn't be too late.

After all, when my parents and my son, Noah, were lying in the morgue, I survived a dead-silent night exactly like this one, shedding tears until my eyes literally bled dry.

Now, it is finally my husband's turn to go to hell and atone for my family.

I am just a simple florist making an honest living. Yet, somehow, the city's untouchable elites keep suffering horrific, freak accidents right after someone buys my flowers. The police know I'm involved, but they can't prove a thing. After all, how much damage can a few blooming petals really do?

When I had a car accident, my mate, Alpha Ethan from the Blackridge Pack, was at the airport.
Even though I was nearly unconscious due to the violent impact on my head and managed to find my phone to call him in the devastated accident scene, he hurriedly said to me to call the police myself and hung up.
He couldn't wait to rush to the airport to meet the destined mate Ava, who was said to have a terminal illness and wanted to return to see him before her death.
The day I discharged happened to be the day for taking wedding photos.
I went straight to the wedding dress store, watching her wearing the wedding dress and jewelry that I personally designed, holding my mate Alpha Ethan's hand.
I calmly said, "Please go to the front desk to settle the design fee."
Without arguing or making a fuss, I turned around and went to the hospital for an abortion surgery.
I decided to give up on him and return to my pack, going abroad to participate in the Pack Leader Training.
As he wished, he and his

The apocalypse is not a natural disaster, but a man-made one.

When the T-virus swept through London like a curse, and when my former love and brothers tore off their disguises at the last moment, I realized that the most terrifying thing in this world has never been zombies, but the human heart.

They thought they had tricked me, that abandoning me would get them a ticket to the safe house.

They don't know that I was reborn.

In my past life, my kindness became a weapon in the hands of demons; in this life, I will make the betrayers send themselves to hell.

“A powerful opener to a series [that] will produce a combination of feisty protagonists and challenging circumstances to thoroughly involve not just young adults, but adult fantasy fans who seek epic stories fueled by powerful friendships and adversaries.”--Midwest Book Review (Diane Donovan) (re A Throne for Sisters)“Morgan Rice's imagination is limitless!”--Books and Movie Reviews (re A Throne for Sisters)From #1 Bestselling fantasy author Morgan Rice comes a new series for middle grade readers—and adults, too! Fans of Harry Potter and Percy Jackson—look no further!THE MAGIC FACTORY: OLIVER BLUE AND THE SCHOOL FOR SEERS (BOOK ONE) tells the story of 11 year old Oliver Blue, a boy unloved by his hateful family. Oliver knows he is different, and senses that he holds powers that others do not. Obsessed with inventions, Oliver is determined to escape his horrible life and make his mark on the world.When Oliver is moved to yet another awful house he is put into in a new sixth grade, one even more terrifying than the last. He is bullied and excluded, and sees no way out. But when he stumbles across an abandoned invention factory, he wonders if his dreams might be about to come true.Who is the mysterious old inventor hiding in the factory? What is his secret invention?And will Oliver end up transported back in time, to 1944, to a magical school for kids with powers to rival his own?An uplifting fantasy, THE MAGIC FACTORY is book #1 in a riveting new series filled with magic, love, humor, heartbreak, tragedy, destiny, and a series of shocking twists. It will make you fall in love with Oliver Blue, and keep you turning pages late into the night.Book #2 in the series (THE ORB OF KANDRA) and Book #3 (THE OBSIDIANS) are now also available! “The beginnings of something remarkable are there.” --San Francisco Book Review (re A Quest of Heroes)

I spent three years chasing the most popular guy on campus, only to be humiliated in front of the entire school.
My foster family treats me like a live-in maid. My biological father wants to drag me back into the gutter. And the loan sharks have made it clear that in three days, I'll be the one paying for my father's debt.
Everyone is waiting to see me fall apart.
What no one knows is that I already dreamed of the worst future waiting for me.

In my past life, I threw myself in front of the black panther alpha when his rut drove him into a frenzy—only to have him toss me into a pack of beasts and watch me get torn to pieces.
After being reborn, the first thing I did was rip off the royal crest pinned to my chest and swallow a suppressant, cutting off his control over me for good.
Everyone waited for me to come crawling back and beg for peace.
Instead, I turned and walked straight into the frozen Northlands, where the death rate was eighty percent.
There, through a severed arm, a ruined face, and the thin line between life and death, I awakened as the Platinum Lion King.
He dropped to his knees in the snow, crying and begging for forgiveness.
I only had one question for him: "What makes you think you're anything to me?"

Y

My life had been a nightmare until one accident changed everything.
One moment, I was the girl Ethan Blake rejected without a second glance.
The next, I woke up inside his body.
Ethan Blake.
Captain of the hockey team. King of the campus. The same guy who told me to stop wasting everyone's time and just die.
Now I wore his face, carried his name, and lived his life.
And I remembered every cruel thing he had done to me.
So I started returning the favor.
I smiled in front of his friends while tearing apart his perfect reputation piece by piece. I turned his world upside down while everyone still believed I was him.
But Ethan wasn't gone.
And he wasn't willing to stay silent.
The more I took from him, the more desperate he became to reclaim his body.
Even if it meant coming back to me—
On his knees.
Begging.

My fiancée and best friend, whom I risked my life to protect, sold me to the brutal "Blood Blade Gang . "
They laughed as they watched me being kicked into a pool of radioactive waste like a dog, waiting for me to turn into a pile of bones.
But they didn't know that the deadly radiation not only failed to melt me, but also forcibly ruptured my genetic lock, awakening the [Nuclear Fury].
I rode back to the old camp in her heavily armored vehicle.
Those two scoundrels were still arrogantly bullying me: "I have the Blood Blade Gang backing me! The big shots are coming soon, you're dead!"
I sneered and slapped them away.
Idiots, look back! Your so-called powerful backer is kneeling in the vehicle, lighting my cigarette.

A red dragon heir locked me in an iron shed and scorched me with his breath for ten minutes straight.Didn't kill me.He woke a Black Dragon buried under a three-hundred-year curse.The Tri-Dragon Council tore down my home, beat my father, threw me in jail, and live-streamed it all so the whole city could laugh.What they didn't know: every ancestor's soul in the Black Dragon cemetery had fused into me.I smashed through the Council's dome and slammed the dissolution order onto the table.

“Sheridan, Link gave me hope to live this past year. I’m pregnant with his child now. He’s been malnourished since he was a baby. Could you be a little more generous and give him half of your food?”

"To quell the rumors, give him the commander's authority as well! Consider it proof of your tolerance, and that way everyone will accept our family of three!"

Looking at my fiancée, who was heavily pregnant and had a saintly glow on her face, I felt a wave of nausea wash over me.

Five years of entrusting each other with life and death have resulted in this scene.

Alright, I'll grant your wish.

Without arguing or making a scene, I readily signed the power transfer agreement, removed my epaulets, and walked without looking back into the underground forbidden zone that everyone feared.

There, a crazy witch with a morbid possessiveness toward me is imprisoned.

Sylvia thought that after I relinquished power, I would only be able to kneel in the mud like a stray dog and watch them be affectionate.

But she had no idea that I was the one who had the safety net for her throughout the entire city!

After losing my protection, the system completely crashed within a few days.

That freeloader completely dropped his pretense, not only beating her half to death with domestic violence, but also attempting to invade her private space.

When she crawled to the gate of the restricted area covered in blood, crying and begging me for forgiveness and to save her life.

I was being held in the arms of that aloof witch, watching the pretty boy who had come looking for me:

"The experiment actually spoke, darling..."

If a zombie opens its bloody maw at you — not to eat you, but to trade for a steak —

Do you take the deal?

I opened a wasteland exchange with a hundred thousand tons of frozen meat, priced everything with a barcode scanner, and used the Law of the Abyss as my guarantee.

When the mechanical army surrounded my cold storage, I hit the citywide broadcast:

"Big order, open to all — whoever tears apart the man on that heavy truck eats as much meat as they want."

What is fate? Waking up three days after you rejected your fated mates in front of the entire school, with the memories of your husband's betrayal still burning in your chest? Or finding out that the only way to save your empire is to compete for love on national television—against the man who murdered you?

Make your pick.

Odessa Montgomery died at thirty—cheated on, poisoned, and blown to pieces by the husband she trusted. Then she opened her eyes at twenty-one, three days after the mating gala where she publicly rejected the De Luca triplets. The rejection is still fresh. The whole school is still talking. And Damien Gracias, her charming hockey-star boyfriend, has no idea she remembers every lie he ever told her.

She dumps him. Publicly. Brutally. But freedom comes at a cost. Her grandfather's will is clear: find a mate or lose the Montgomery empire. With Damien out and the De Luca triplets—her humiliated fated mates—lurking in her past, her options are nothing.

Then comes Moonlit Bonds, a televised competition where unmated shifters compete for love and a life-changing prize. Win, and her inheritance is hers. Lose, and lose everything.

There's just one problem. Damien and his true mate, Sarah, have joined the show, hoping to legitimize their bond on camera. And the De Luca triplets are also contestants—three alphas she rejected, two who bullied her, and one who has never stopped watching.

Now Odessa is trapped in a villa with cameras in every corner, a public audience that votes on her fate, and enemies who want her dead.

She came to win.

She might just find revenge.

But falling for the enemy? That was never part of the plan.

My girlfriend told me she was part of a social experiment. Her task was to get close to a target, and if she quit, she’d owe a crushing penalty.

So she kept canceling on me, staying out all night, and letting another man hold her—then came home in tears and said she had no choice.

I believed her for three years.

What she never knew was that I was the hidden heir to a billion-dollar family empire. While we were together, I was under a private family test and forbidden to reveal who I really was.

The day that test ended, I took back my name.

The first thing I did wasn’t return to the boardroom. I went straight to the lab behind her so-called experiment.

The man in charge turned the screen toward me. “We never had any massive penalty. The contract is clear. She could have quit at any time.”

Three years. No forced mission. No trap she couldn’t escape.

Every line she crossed, she chose to cross herself.

I didn’t confront her. I just took my things, ended the relationship, and walked away.

She thought I was just angry.

She had no idea that after reclaiming my identity, the first thing I did was uncover every lie she had ever told me.

My squadmates falsely accused me of being a vampire. They poured scalding water over me claiming it was "holy water," spiked my meals with garlic extract, and even splashed me with stinking goat blood. In the end, their madness drove them to plunge a sharpened cross straight into my heart...

I am the youngest Don of the Obsidian Family.
After an unexpected rest, my opponent sent me a street racing invitation.
I went to my brother's company to retrieve my car, but was drugged with ether by my brother's secretary.
She told me that no one could seduce her man.
She kicked my stomach, threatened me with a paper cutter to make a vow, and said her future sister-in-law is the youngest Don of the Obsidian Family—if I dared to retaliate against her, I would die miserably.
I looked at her coldly.
Really?
But I haven't agreed to be your sister-in-law yet!

“Strip...” I looked at him, not believing what he just said. “I said strip.” His voice held authority not to ignore his order. I started discarding my clothes one by one, shivering in fear. His gaze pierces my skin from head to toe, while disgust was loud and clear on his face. “You don't interest me anymore. Get out.”

She discovers her fiancé and her sister having s*x before her wedding. Determined to expose their betrayal, she plays the tape at the ceremony—only to be told the wedding cannot be called off. If she refuses to go through with it, her parents insist her sister will take her place instead.

Now, offered a chance at a fresh start through a contracted marriage with a wealthy, mysterious man, she steps into a new life.

Will she get her revenge on the man who broke her heart? And could this fake relationship turn into something real?