7934 Book(s) Related to the duke picked up something in the forest

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

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

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

I hesitated.

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

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

What a perfect fucking picture.

Until I heard that GODDAMN surveillance recording.

When the debate is evenly matched, it's called discourse.
When you drag a socially anxious mess who can barely string together a coherent sentence onto the judgment platform of Ivy League elites—that's public execution.
My name is Scarlett Hayes. Ten minutes ago, if anyone had told me I'd be standing in a two-thousand-seat auditorium, pointing at Arthur—the nation's debate king—and shredding his logic to ribbons, I would've told them to see a shrink.
But right now, that sketchy pink energy shot I slammed down is surging through my bloodstream like molten adrenaline.
And that logic engine—the one that's been dead for twenty years, paralyzed by fear—just roared back to life.

A man's luxurious watch slipped out of my wife's purse. Without batting an eye, she lied, "It's a gift for your dad." Looking at the youthful, trendy style and thinking of the remote-controlled toy that had mysteriously appeared in the nightstand, I felt nothing but utter disgust.
In the surveillance footage, the domineering homewrecker not only wore my clothes but also arrogantly taunted me.
And my own flesh and blood, the son I cherished more than my own eyes, had covered for them for a few hundred dollars of pocket money!
Since everything was rotten to the core, I wouldn't even want the son anymore.
Without a word, I accepted a tenured professor position overseas, decisively gave up custody, and promptly mailed the divorce papers and the adult toy to her company.
The mistress and the homewrecker's little celebration? Let them torment each other.
This time, I'm taking my life back.

My name is Maya Wilson. I'm seventeen, I have 100K TikTok followers, and I just watched my dad destroy our family for a twenty-five-year-old homewrecker named Ashley.

"Ashley makes me feel alive again," he said, dismissing seventeen years of marriage like a bad business deal.

"We'll be one happy family," she smiled, standing in our kitchen like she already owned it.

That's when I knew: Mom needed my protection.

What followed was a war fought with laptops and lies, fake pregnancies and real heartbreak. A battle between a broken housewife discovering her strength, a teenage girl wielding digital weapons, and a woman who thought she could manipulate her way to victory.

Six months later, Mom would be accepting awards. Ashley would be gone. And Dad?

Dad would be begging for forgiveness he'd never get.

I’ve been guarding a door in the Nevada underground for a hundred years. The system marks this place "Abandoned," and the official records claim I don't exist.
When the investigation team arrived, the leader was my old signal corpsman. He pretended not to know me and ordered his guards to drag me out like a piece of dead weight.
They shoved a young lad from the Rex family into the breach as bait, and while everyone screamed in horror, no one dared to move.
So, I jumped down to fish the kid out, using a bottle of beer to force back the tentacles reaching from the dark.
Then, I pulled on that dusty old uniform and pressed my palm against the master console—all thirty-two security protocols verified instantly.
The lead technician collapsed in shock: "This clearance level is restricted to the Chief Architect only."
He was right. I am.
The thing I’ve kept locked behind that door for a century woke up, whispering: "What do you want?"
I said: "Dinner."

My husband's body moved over Celeste's, driving into her with brutal force.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, moaning like she did for her three million followers—except this performance was just for him.
I was her assistant. Her best friend, supposedly. Which is how I knew her passcode.
Now I was wedged in the back of her bedroom closet, phone aimed through the gap in the slats, ready to catch the bastard in the act.
Then Celeste's moans ripped into a scream. The mattress lurched violently. Blood poured down the sheets in thick rivers.
Her head hit the floor. Rolled. Stopped right in front of the closet.
Those wide eyes met mine through the darkness.

I drank myself into a stomach perforation, all to secure investment for Mu Jingshen's company.

As I was wheeled into the emergency room, blood trickled from the corner of my mouth. I heard a doctor shouting: "Where's the next of kin? We need a signature for surgery, now!"

My hands shaking violently, I dialed Mu Jingshen's number.
His contact was saved under "A Hubby", pinned to the very top of my contact list, just so I'd never miss a single call from him.

The call connected, and I forced out every last bit of my strength to speak, my voice weak and trembling:
"Jingshen, I need emergency surgery. Can you come sign the consent forms for me, please..."

But it wasn't his voice that came through the line. It was Shen Wanrong's, sweet and cloying: "Jiejie, Jingshen's busy giving Huanhuan a bath right now."

The sound of running water stopped.
I heard him ask who was on the phone.

Shen Wanrong spoke in a hurt, plaintive whine: "It's Jiejie... Jingshen, do you want to take the call? What if it's an emergency?"

But he just said, his voice flat and dismissive: "Ignore her. Nothing could ever be more important than being here for Huanhuan's birthday."

Huanhuan was Shen Wanrong's pet dog.

I married a rapist.
After the wedding, I played the perfect wife. I always took off my makeup after he fell asleep, and reapplied it before he woke up.
My husband loved showing off on his livestream, bragging that women should know their place.
One viewer sent a warning in the chat:
[Run, man. Only vengeful spirits do their makeup in the middle of the night—when their resentment is strongest, the makeup lasts longer!]
I covered my face and grinned wickedly.
Oops, forgot concealer. My corpse marks are showing.

I gave him seventeen chances to marry me, yet he eagerly toasts with his new flame, showers her with gifts, and retreats to hotels with her.
He has forgotten that I do not have pierced ears, presenting me annually with earrings I can never wear; he has overlooked our seven-year anniversary but vividly remembers the one-year anniversary of his new lover's employment.
Seventeen promises of marriage, each one an empty promise; seven years of devoted affection, ultimately reduced to a mere laughingstock.
So I flew straight to his worst nightmare—Mexico.
And let him burn in the regret he never earned.

My parents ruined my wedding six times.

Every single time, right at the moment the ring was about to slip onto my finger—the first time, Mom knocked over the champagne tower. The second time, Dad drove his pickup truck straight through the floral arch... Either the groom wasn't good enough, or the wedding was too cheap. Each time was more batshit crazy than the last. The sixth time, Mom even held a knife to her own throat, threatening me not to put on the ring.

It made no sense to me—why push me to get married while doing everything to stop me from wearing that ring?

So for the seventh wedding, I chose a small chapel in a remote mountain area, went completely off-grid, dead certain they'd never track me down.

Just as Ethan was about to slide the ring onto my finger—

The chapel doors burst open.

Two figures stumbled in, gasping for air, faces streaked with tears.

My parents.

My serpent mate has locked me in the castle, nine months pregnant. A dozen serpent guards watch me day and night. I can't even leave the room.

A month ago, his brother died in a hunting accident. He became the serpent clan leader. Then he brought back his brother's widow, the woman he grew up with. His first love.

He said he needed to take care of his brother's widow. He told me we'd all live together in the castle, nice and peaceful.

I said no.

I'm his mate. I'm a beastman. My pride won't let me accept that. And they grew up together, childhood sweethearts. How could I not think about it?

She came to him in tears, heavily pregnant. She said I poisoned her medicine, that I wanted to kill her and the baby.

He believed her.

He decided I was just some rogue beastman with no background, jealous and vicious, only after his title and money. So he locked me in this freezing castle while he camped outside her delivery room.

When labor hit, I screamed for a healer. I swore I never hurt her. I just couldn't live with her under the same roof. I only ever loved him.

He just laughed. "You're good at acting. I don't believe a word out of you. Once she delivers safely, I'll deal with you. Don't think you can trick me into coming back."

But when a trembling guard reported "Your mate and the child... they didn't make it," he lost it completely.

In my last life, Natalie insisted on stepping out of the car to feed a wild grizzly.

I tried to stop her. Daniel shoved me into the bear's path instead — to save her.

The grizzly's teeth tore through my throat. My blood sprayed hot across the snow.

And there was Daniel, my boyfriend of three years, holding Natalie close. Not a scratch on her.

He even raised his phone to film me being ripped apart, then posted it on TikTok with the caption: "She gave her life to protect us." The donations poured in for weeks.

Now my eyes are open again. Natalie's pushing the car door open, sandwich in hand, ready to hand-feed the cubs.

This time, I don't scream. I don't stop her.

I just watch her lean halfway out the door — and lock it behind her.

My husband locked our fouryearold son in a 20°C wine cellar for his mistress. Our boy froze to death.
Lawyers silenced me. I was cast aside.
Three years later, I returned.
At a glittering New York gala, I tore apart every lie Liam and Mia had built. Liam begged for my forgiveness—but I had a solid anchor by my side, and I would never forgive him.

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.

My world fell apart the day I got scratched by my best friend Coralie’s cat, and she handed me that "miracle" ointment.
Rosalind, the mentor I had respected for years, suddenly turned on me, cutting all ties in a fit of rage that landed her in the hospital.
My mother, Adrienne, transformed overnight, screaming abuse and kicking me out of her house.
And Dorian, my fiancé, publicly humiliated me at our engagement party, viciously calling off the wedding.
Driven to despair, I wandered into the street and was nearly killed by a car. In the shocking clarity of that near-death moment, I finally realized the twisted truth behind everyone’s sudden, violent disgust for me...

I’ve had a lot of things stolen from me by my stepsister, Paloma Thorne.
My father, my boyfriend, my baby, my thesis, my future...
When I was twenty-two, I walked into the university lab and caught Paloma and my boyfriend, Milo, tangled naked together. I miscarried on the spot. Later, as I lay in the hospital bed, Paloma used a secretly recorded sex tape of Milo and me as blackmail, sealing off my last possible way out. I didn't scream or cry. I just signed the papers, grabbed my suitcase, and left.
In Calder City, I met the mafia don, Darius Harlow. He was calm, dominant, and gave me a sense of security so overwhelming it was almost suffocating. So, I married him.
It wasn't until four years later, when I returned to Ellsworth for Paloma's wedding, that the illusion shattered.
The night before the wedding, standing outside a closed door, I heard her voice.
"Darius, I was the one who let go seven years ago. Let me make it up to you tonight. Please?"
The next second, I heard my husband's heavy breathing.
Only then did I realize that for the past four years, I was nothing but Paloma's stand-in.

The first time Tyler laid eyes on Ellie, he thought she was a quiet, shy, introverted girl.

Then she opened her mouth and shattered that illusion.

“Are you trying to sleep with me? Why are you staring at me?”

After a night of passion, she woke up and calmly eyed his abs like she was appraising merchandise.

“Here’s your tip. Thank you for your work last night!” she smirked, a dollar bill tucked between her fingers.

Does she think I am a gigolo? Tyler sneered.

Then one day, a message from Ellie lit up his phone:

[I’m getting engaged. Are you going to take me away? Gigolo?]

He scrambled to his feet, rushing to the engagement ceremony.

This time, no one could stop him from taking her.

A hundred years ago, that curse was meant for him. I'm the one who threw myself in front of it.
It cost me my elven heart, shattered on the spot—and a name I could never wash off. Traitor.
I never argued. Because the moment I speak the truth, the curse goes straight back to him.
So I stayed. I became his blood servant and let him drain me, one bottle at a time, to feed the woman he'd waited a century for. I told myself that if I endured long enough, someday he'd see my heart for what it was.
Then the healer told me my heart had thirty days left.
And he walked in, knife in hand, to say his beloved needed more of my blood.
This time, I'm not enduring anything.
I'm going to give him back this heart—at the exact moment he's most sure he's won.

Stacy was a brilliant and beautiful girl in her days in Hillary High School, Everyone want to be friend with her.

She is one of the hottest girl in the School. She was indeed the Queen in the Hillary High.

Her Parents were business Tycoons. So they were super dopey Rich.

They were not always home and not always available though they provided her with more than enough money.

She sometimes lack parental care and this has always sadden her, she never got the love and attention she needed. She was a genius, always taking the First position.

She had a lot of admirers, boys always trying to woo her but she declines them and hates to be pestered. But Luckily that's gonna change as a matter of time.

It was a new day in Hillary High School. This day was the day of Resumption. Stacy was now in Grade 11 {SS2}, she had done well asusal in collecting most Prices at the Price giving day Emerging as the Overall Best Student, but she is ignorant of a New Rivalry.

As Stacy been the goddess of Hillary High.

One day, came a god

His name is.

"You will keep teleported back if you choose to want to be with him, remember it!" The kindest man turned into a villain.

"I won't lose you to him again!" The ruthless man turned into soft.

In between them, Choi was bewildered to choose her right future partner.

While she was anxious between them, her family members tried to kill her for the property that was going to be her.

Who will she choose? And the teleportation will keep turn the table again and again to make her life worse?

Let's see in the chapters!

At my boss's mother's funeral, I couldn't hold back my laughter, and as a result, I was treated as a lunatic, stuffed into a garbage cannon, and launched naked into an apocalyptic forest full of zombies. Everyone thought I was doomed, but they didn't know—I had been reborn 1,001 times. Unarmed and surrounded by the zombie horde, about to be torn to shreds, in desperation I clung to the last clue... When I finally uncovered the truth that could overturn everything, I laughed from the bottom of my heart. This time, I would personally end this greatest lie.

I am the sole heir to the Hartwell fortune.
But this birthday dinner — the one meant to sign the family trust into my hands on my twenty-second year — was being ruined by the housekeeper's daughter.
Brianna had done it on purpose. She'd stolen the archival couture gown my late mother left behind, then thrown herself into the champagne tower and pinned it on me.
"Oh God, Audrey, why did you push me?" She was already crying, her voice pitched for the crowd. "I know you hate seeing me in this dress, but your father was the one who insisted I wear it. Please don't make me leave."
In my last life, I'd stood there sobbing, waving my hands, trying to explain.
For that, I'd been stripped of my inheritance on the spot, committed to a psychiatric ward, and in the end, every fingernail torn out one by one, I'd died in agony.
But I'd been reborn.
Now I looked down at Brianna crumpled among the shattered crystal, playing the victim, and I didn't waste a word.
I crossed the floor, stood over her, drew my arm back, and slapped her across the face as hard as I could.
"Shut your mouth."

On the way to the hospital to deliver my baby, rain was coming down in sheets.
Suddenly, my husband slammed on the brakes. He'd spotted his ex-girlfriend standing in the downpour with her child.
"She's struggling as a single mom. I'm just going to help her carry those groceries upstairs. Ten minutes, tops."
Clutching my belly through the contractions, I begged him, "But I'm about to give birth. I'm in so much pain."
He just locked the car doors with a click, his voice sharp with annoyance.
"Sarah, can you try to be a little more empathetic? She's soaking wet."
In those ten minutes, my water broke. Desperate to survive, blood on my hands, I crawled out through the back hatch.
While I was fighting for my life in the ER—
His ex posted a snapshot.
In the video, my husband was gently toweling off her hair. The caption read:
[So glad you're here.]

“Do I really deserve this?”
Dr. Xavier Brown asked the void after the woman he loved smiled and shoved him off a rooftop.

He died a brilliant, betrayed genius… only to wake up as the worthless secondary character in a trashy web novel.

The pathetic live-in son-in-law.
The disposable husband.
The man scripted to be humiliated, divorced, and killed so the protagonists could shine.

Died once.
Refused to die again.

Armed with every humiliating page of his own doom, Xavier signs the divorce papers with a smirk, takes the money, and kicks the first death flag into the dirt.

But the story doesn’t let go so easily.

When he saves the mother of Isabella Voss, the novel’s ice-cold villainess, using medicine this world has never seen, she doesn’t destroy him.
She builds him a kingdom: a hospital with top-notch facilities, an empire of shadows, and a love that feels dangerously real.

Then the truth rips the script apart.

He isn’t Alexander Rodriguez.
He is Alexander Winchester, erased heir to a hidden mafia family, legendary assassin king, memory wiped and chained as a live-in dog by the very people who now call themselves heroes.

Six deadly sisters descend to reclaim him.
A ruthless CEO. A ghost hacker, an assassin trainer, a pharmaceutical prodigy, a public opinion goddess, and the youngest who sees what’s coming before it breathes.

With a system that evolves from cold machine to snarky partner in crime, Xavier walks two paths at once:

The Healer who rewrites life, and the Ruler who burns false fates to ash.

But Karma never dies, Damien and Sophie met with their consequences

Every betrayal returns.
Every death flag screams.

“Do I really deserve this?”

Xavier smiles, scalpel in one hand, shadow in the other.

This time the answer is yes.

I loved Finley for two years.
Until 1:00 AM on a Tuesday, when his best friend, Orion, sent me a half-naked photo and a jarring voice note."
If I actually bag her, don't go flipping out on me. A deal's a deal."
I booked the first flight out to confront him, only to catch the boy I loved naked and thrusting into another woman.
But that wasn't even the part that broke me.
When my roommate bypassed the hockey team's private Discord server, I found a channel named: #locker-room-bets.
There was my boyfriend, typing the words that shattered my world: "She's boring... She's like a lost puppy, you can't shake her... Play with her all you want."
My loyalty and two years of my life were nothing but a sick joke.
The entire hockey team had put money down on when I would willingly spread my legs for his best friend.

I used to believe the most beautiful sound in the world was a baby's first cry.

Until I watched my three children die, one by one, at the hands of a woman with the sweetest smile.

Her name was Isabella, my husband's cousin. She would tenderly offer tissues after my miscarriages, frantically call for help when I fell down the stairs, thoughtfully make soup to comfort me after I lost each child.

She was such a talented actress. So convincing that even my mafia don husband said, "Isabella is more suited to be the lady of this house than you are."

But they didn't know—

A docile sheep, once it learns the wolf's rules, becomes far more dangerous than any real wolf.

When Dominick smashed Antonio's skull with the holy chalice, when Isabella screamed through her miscarriage in the basement, when blood splattered across the Virgin Mary's face...

In this prestigious North American university, I was just a lowly physical education teacher, working long hours and being bossed around.
No one knew that two years ago, I was a special forces legend, codenamed "Tyrant," who climbed to the top of the dark web, stepping over the corpses of countless enemies in the abyss of hell.
I thought I had washed the blood off my hands.
Until that day, the only ordinary female student I cared about was lured into a black market industrial park on the Balkan border, facing a butcher's chainsaw.
For five million dollars to save my life, I was willing to swallow all my pride and bow to the school's richest family.
But what I got in return was public humiliation and a beating from the powerful.
They laughed at me, calling me a weakling, saying my life was less than that of a lowly dog.
Watching the video showing only five hours left of life and death, I snapped the spine of the richest man's bodyguard with my bare hands, tearing apart the docile mask I had worn for two years.
Crossing half the globe to storm into a heavily guarded, lawless land?
It had been a long time since I'd stretched my muscles.
It seems the world has forgotten why this dark jungle, filled with warlords and evil, still cannot bear to hear my name!

To win a smile from my icy wife, I stood for four hours in a London blizzard, only to be greeted by her returning hand-in-hand with her childhood sweetheart, who had just returned from abroad.

For three years of marriage, I had concealed all my sharp edges, solely to warm her heart.
Until company secrets were leaked, and she unquestioningly believed her childhood sweetheart's framing, locking me, who suffered from severe claustrophobia, in a dark, abandoned wine cellar for a full forty-eight hours.

Watching her arrogantly slam the "Clean Break Agreement" onto my bleeding face, I smiled.
The moment I signed my name, the humble Arthur who loved her died utterly in the abyss.

That night, my yacht ran aground and exploded.
And the first heir of the Vance conglomerate, missing for three years, officially took control of the global technology lifeline.

Six months later, betrayed and facing bankruptcy, she clung to my trousers like a dead dog on the red carpet of a top-tier banquet, weeping and begging me to start over.
I was arm in arm with a true socialite, and I didn't even lift an eyelid as I looked at the woman covered in mud on the floor:
"Security, throw this crazy woman who's dirtied the carpet away. Don't spoil my fun."

In my previous life, I ran a barbecue restaurant to support my family for ten years, but my parents secretly sold the restaurant to a gang because of my younger brother's vanity in wanting him to study abroad.
An hour later, the apocalypse began, and my little shop became a god-level safe house—
Those with superpowers who enter the store have their abilities automatically copied to the store owner; the store is absolutely safe; the store owner decides who enters and who leaves.
My family ruined my amazing little shop, and they scolded me, saying, "Who told you to be unable to keep the shop?"
I was heartbroken and torn to pieces in the mouth of a zombie.
In this life, I was reborn back to an hour before the shop was taken away.
I must protect my shop!
As for those so-called family members—let them fend for themselves in the apocalypse!

My brother chose my enemy, and the man I loved joined forces with her to sell me into a club.
Pregnancy, miscarriage, imprisonment, beatings—every cry for help I made was dismissed as "just an act."
It wasn't until I was truly dead that they lost their minds, dropping to their knees at my grave and sobbing that they were sorry.
But by then, I could no longer hear them.

（There is a lot of sexual and stimulating content， minors are not allowed to read!!!）
As a colleger, I stay at my brother’s place. My sister-in-law is both attractive and kind, and every bit of her embodies the type of woman I am drawn to. Being in my adolescence, I have often dreamed of making love to her. Well aware how wrong this is, I have tried to avoid her as much as possible. However, to my utter astonishment, I discovered my brother is impotent, and they have been without marital relations for a long time. She deeply desires a child, and his inability to impregnate her has left her in tears more than once. One night, she came into my bedroom and asked, "Could you help me conceive a baby?" Torn between panic and exhilaration, I couldn’t look her in the eye. What am I supposed to do?

I was reborn, back to the moment before I was dragged to death by motorcycles in the wasteland.

In my previous life, I listened to the moral blackmail of the saintly female lead Daisy and used my abilities to desperately save a motorcycle gang surrounded by zombies.

As a result, I was severely injured from ability overexertion, and these ungrateful wolves used me as a tool to establish dominance, dragging me to death with motorcycles across the wasteland.

Before I died, Daisy was still there crying: "We tried our best, this isn't our fault."

Now that I have a second chance, she stands before me again shouting:

"Cole! What are you standing there for? Go save them! Those people are going to die! You have abilities, you must save them!"

Looking at her hypocritical saintly face, rage burned in my chest.

Why should my abilities save ungrateful wolves? Why should my life be a stepping stone for others?

The kindness of fools is worthless!

So I threw her out to feed the zombies!

"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 his telling me this now- to my face, just made things more complicated.

When Iris went to prison for her boyfriend, she discovered that he was about to marry Alpha's daughter.
It turned out that he had been using her all along and then abandoned her...
Iris fell into despair, but unexpectedly, she crossed paths with Marcus, Alpha's son and her former patient.
She became her ex's brother-in-law's wedding companion?! The most notorious playboy in the Pack?

Riley
New name, new look, new life. I've been careful to keep my past at bay. The last thing I needed was the stranger with those calm discerning eyes to cross my path. I must avoid him at all costs, even if he haunts my dreams and sends waves of heat across my skin. My focus is survival, not lust. Not even if he ignited a longing I'd never thought possible.

Draven
A mission. Find the missing girls and bring the perpetrator to justice. The retributive kind. I've grown used to the shadows but I am drawn to her light. Moth to a flame, the only way to quell my curiosity is to satiate it. But not too much. Not completely.

TEASER:
You want me, don’t you?” A simple question that warranted a simple answer.
“Should I have had you checked for a head injury?” he scoffed, a swift blow that knocked the wind out of my lungs and I realised I had been holding my breath. My lips parted, and my chest heaved, working overtime to replenish my body’s oxygen from those few moments of starvation.
Steeling my spine, I stepped forward, invading his space, oblivious to the eyes that were thrown our way. Or was I imagining that? Draven didn’t budge, a perfectly shaped brow elevated as he considered my movement with little interest. There wasn’t a single flicker of emotion to cross his features, not even that Godforsaken misleading smile made an appearance.
“Then you’ve no reason to threaten any man I may find interesting.” I breathed the words slowly, erotically.

"I look better in the wedding dress. Your ugly fiancée can't compare to me, right?" "Of course, you do. You look way better."
Standing right outside the bridal fitting room, I watched my fiancé, Alexander Blackwell, hold his mistress in his arms.
The very wedding dress the woman wore was the custom-made designer gown meant for my own wedding next month.
For seven long years, I gave up my youth and poured everything into Alexander, turning him from a nobody into a tech billionaire.
He always thought I was just a helpless orphan who had nowhere else to go, blindly confident that I would never dare to leave him.
He had no idea that I was actually one of the heirs to the top-tier Sterling family in London.
When he finally realized what he had lost and desperately tried to beg for my return, I didn't look back.
Because I ran into Theodore Morrow—the city's most powerful, ruthless billionaire CEO, and the childhood fiancé whose heart I had broken when I called off our engagement years ago.

His fingers traced down my side, slow and teasing, until he reached my thigh, he gripped it hard and lifted it higher around his waist, the change in angle had me gasping as I felt the hard nudge of his very hard and well sized shaft.
"You're sensitive, " he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction.
I wanted to give a reply, show him I was still in control but damn it, he moved and he pushed that little monster inside me with deliberate, frustrating slowness and it was like the room tilted.
"Oh my……"

The day Emilia lost everything, she met a mysterious man who she ended up having a passionate night with, but it only left her longing for more.
Little did she know, her forced wedding was about to bring them together again.
But this time, as brother-in-law and sister-in-law. Torn between duty and desire, Emilia must decide: resist the attraction or give in to her heart's desire.

I found my husband's vasectomy certificate while sorting medical bills. The procedure was done a year ago. But I was six months pregnant now.

I stared at the date on the paper and my hand just... stopped. I kept checking it again and again, but it was still the same. I was freaking out. I looked down at my bump showing through this baggy sweater, and my hands started shaking.

I got in my car and drove straight to my husband's private club. I needed answers about this, now.

🔞⚠️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.

The stranger moved closer, closing the space between him and Anna.

His hand came up, gripping her jaw and tilting her face so she had no choice but to meet his gaze.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked.

Anna swallowed hard, her pulse racing.

“Yes,” she breathed. “I want you to fuck me so hard I forget about my dickhead of a fiancé.”


Anna Hawkins was never supposed to fall into the arms of a stranger. But after walking in on her fiancé having sex with her best friend, pain drove her into the dark corners of a nightclub and straight into the arms of a man with cold eyes, inked skin, and a body that could ruin her.

Their night was supposed to mean nothing.

But unforeseen circumstances throw Anna into a brutal world of betrayal, power, crime, and possession.

She wasn’t just heartbroken anymore.

She was owned.

And the most dangerous part?

She didn’t know how to escape from her cruel fate.

All Emma ever wanted was to feel like she belonged. Put up for adoption as a child and quitting her first job because of her boss, she was desperate to navigate her young adult life.
Luckily for her, she landed a job as a live-in maid to the rich and powerful Ethan Hollen. Emma was in charge of preparing Ethan's coffee every morning and soon enough, more things started heating up between the two but there's just one problem. Ethan is engage to another woman.

Isabel has everything—beauty, success, the perfect relationship. So why does she feel so empty? When she discovers the mystical dream realm, she finds what she’s been craving: Alexander. He’s everything her perfect life isn’t—wild, passionate, impossible. Twin flames colliding in a world where every forbidden fantasy becomes reality. And she’s done pretending to be satisfied.

EJ Hollen and Zenia Blackman were friends before deciding on having things get more serious between them. All EJ wanted was to be loved for who he is but Zenia was bended on true love doesn't exist and was more keen on living in the moment. She was also harboring a dark secret from EJ and when he found out, all things fell apart, including their relationship.
Would they ever love each other again?

Sacha Rish is a young African American woman with a little sister to care and provide for. When their parents tragically passed away, Sacha is left all alone to care for Judy so that she doesn't end up in foster care, but Sacha's life is rough. After losing her job and her apartment, she's desperate more than ever to make ends meet and just when she was on the brink of 'rock bottom'... She meets multi millionaire Christian Alexander who gave her an offer she couldn't refuse. This offer came with activities Sacha had no experience in. And things became heated when she fell for Christian.

In my past life, when the apocalypse broke out, I braved the pressure and opened the fortress gates to take in my mother-in-law and brother-in-law, who had nowhere else to go.
They shoved my wife and me straight into a horde of zombies.
My wife and I were reborn seven days before the apocalypse. I turned my head and saw the same fear and coldness surging in her eyes as mine:
"This time, don't open the door."
"Never." I smiled coldly.
Not only would I keep the door shut—I would watch with my own eyes as those bloodsucking ingrates, who had drained me dry in my past life, were slowly devoured by hunger and despair right outside the gate.

On the execution platform, my noble and beautiful wife used her dagger to carve open my chest.
My nominal adopted son pressed a red-hot iron into my skin, branding me with the "F"-class mark of the lowest outcast, draining my transcendent bloodline dry.
"The Storm Kingdom has no use for a cripple with zero beast-spirit affinity. You belong rotting in the abyss!"
They cut the chains and kicked me into the Black Abyss—a place from which no one returns—then turned to carve up my throne.
They thought I was as good as dead.
They had no idea that the deepest darkness of that abyss harbored the most terrifying ancient demon in existence.
Two weeks later, as they raised their glasses to toast the new king's coronation, I kicked down the castle gates, wielding the ember-fire of annihilation and a tide of ten thousand beasts.
Looking down at the woman who once stood so high above me, now groveling in the mud and begging for mercy, I tossed the bloodstained broken blade onto the hem of her dress:
"Remember this forever—it was you who took a nobody you crushed beneath your feet and turned him into a king you'll kneel before and never win back. Now, hand over your lives."

In Cape City, where secrets linger in grand mansions, Williams Donald faces different family problems, his marriage to Julian Peterson was hell, he almost Lost his two legs as a result of falling upstairs when his wife threatened him with a knife, he became paralyzed. Later the mysteries surrounding his father's death, Mr Donald confronts a money laundering scandal led by Mr. Andrew Peterson. Enduring humiliation and tragedy, Williams discovers his father's hidden legacy, propelling him on a quest for justice. Can Williams break free from deceit, or will the Peterson mansion crumble under its dark past?

"Marry me and give me an heirs, but not with love! I'll give you 500,000 dollars as compensation or more." Allan Watson

Evelyn Adam is a beautiful 19-20 year old girl who has always had misfortune.

Her parents had just passed away in a plane crash. Evicted by his evil uncle from their home and seized his entire inheritance.
Living on the streets without a penny in his hand.
Worst of all, finds out that his only sister has cancer and needs a lot of money.

She needs one hundred thousand dollars to pay for her sister's illness in two days!

A desperate Evelyn Adams is forced to accept a one-year contract marriage proposal and produce Heirs for a handsome 28-year-old Billionaire named Allan Watson. The sole heir to the Watson empire that controls businesses across most of Wellington County.

Will Evelyn be able to accept?

Is Evelyn ready to be the wife of a Billionaire and give him an heir? Without love between them?

Can they fall in love with each other?

What happens when the Billionaire's ex-fiancee comes back into their lives?

What happened when Eve found out she was pregnant?