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My dad made me a smoothie every morning for six months. I thought it was love.
It was a muscle relaxant.
He'd been slipping just enough into my drink to make my fingers tremble at full draw — just enough to cost me first place at every major competition. Not enough to kill me. Just enough to let Laurel beat me.
Laurel. His mistress's daughter. The girl he bought custom diamond jewelry while giving me clearance-rack gear for my birthday. The girl he wanted to drop into my family, my home, and my spot on the podium.
I found the proof. Stopped drinking his smoothies. Clawed my way back to number one.
Then, two days before the National Youth Archery Trials — the one competition that decides everything — he picked up a steel rod and swung it at my right arm.
My drawing arm.
The bone cracked. Doctors said three months minimum. My coach couldn't look me in the eye. Every scout, every scholarship, every dream I'd bled for over three years — gone in one swing from the man who was supposed to protect me.
Trials start tomorrow morning. And I can't hold a bow.

The last thing I did before I died was lick dew off a rusted pipe.
Ninety days earlier, my fiancé Bastien promised he'd come back for me. He said three months in the Sahara would teach me not to be jealous of Posey—the girl I'd pulled from a refugee camp and raised as my own sister.
He didn't know the water ran out in the first week. He didn't know bandits broke my bones. He didn't care enough to find out.
While I lay dying on a rotting bed with a shattered leg, he was in Manhattan, sliding a pink diamond onto Posey's finger.
I died alone. But I didn't stay gone.
My soul followed a stolen necklace across the ocean, right back to his penthouse—just in time for the engagement party, the champagne toast, and the moment my body arrived at the door.

His fingers curled inside me as his tongue worked my clit with devastating precision.

"Come for me, sweetheart," Hayes whispered against my most sensitive place. When I shattered, crying his name, he didn't stop—kissing me through every tremor like a man starving for six years.

"You're mine now. My wife. No more running."

I'm Sienna—a broke artisan shoemaker fighting to save my studio. He's Hayes Sterling—NFL's golden quarterback worth millions. We were everything to each other in high school until his powerful family paid me to disappear, threatening to destroy his draft prospects if I didn't sign their NDA and walk away forever.

Six years later, fate makes him my most important client.

Every fitting reignites what we buried. Every touch reminds me why I left. When Hayes discovers the truth about my "betrayal," he doesn't just want answers—he wants me. His wife. His forever.

But his family hasn't finished with us yet.

Can love survive when the price of staying together might cost him everything he's worked for?

Antonella has always attracted everyone around her with her surreal beauty and allure. Surrounded by sycophants, she finally manages to make a loyal friend, Fanny, who was bullied for having disabilities.

Fanny was a great friend, but she also had four brothers who soon met the famous Antonella, leaving her burning with desire.

Nobody knew about Antonella's relationship with the four beautiful and naughty bad boys. She had fun with them, doing crazy things together, and experiencing everything that pleasure can bring.

#Reversedharem

“You were never meant to live, little queen,” His whisper sent a chill down my spine. “But you belong to us now.”
Aria should have died in that car crash. Instead, she wakes up in a palace and encounters four kings, all bound to her by a mark that burns like fire.
A vampire who wants her blood, a Lycan who wants her body, a Fae who wants her power and a Demon who seeks to break the ties binding them.
Each of them claims she’s theirs but none of them agree to share. As the kingdoms start to fall one by one and an ancient prophecy slowly awakens, she discovers that the greatest danger isn’t in the curse that binds them.
It’s in the way each of their touches makes her forget she ever wanted to escape.

23-year-old Wren Vessylia, a fox shifter, has only known pain all her life. Hunted, sold, beaten, and tortured. So, when one day she is sold to an Alpha who uses her as leverage for the powerful Alpha Cassian Knight, Wren realizes her life is about to change drastically when Alpha Cassian Knight claims her as his.

Foxes and wolves are never meant to mix; their union is seen as unholy and impure. A forbidden attraction blooms between Cassian and Wren, one that only spells doom.

———————————————————————
"That's the problem, Wren. You don’t listen. You don’t go around chasing rogue wolves. You’re reckless and stubborn.”

I took a step closer, something in his tone igniting a spark of defiance in me. "And you hate that, don't you?"

"I don't hate it." His voice was lower now, rough. "It just scares me."

The honesty in his words caught me off guard. My heart pounded.

My fingers twitched at my sides, aching to touch him, to close the space between us.

Cassian exhaled sharply. "You drive me insane, Wren. I can't explain it."

And before I could stop myself, before I could think better of it, I surged forward and kissed him.

Cassian froze for half a second before he responded, his hands gripping my waist, pulling me against him. I pressed my hands on his rock-hard chest.

I slid my hands down his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle, the warmth of his skin beneath my fingertips. Cassian's breath hitched, his grip on me tightening.

"Wren," he murmured against my lips, his voice strained.

I didn't want to stop. I didn't want to think. I didn't care if it was right or wrong.

But Cassian pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against mine, his breath coming fast. "We need to slow down."

I met his gaze, my own breath just as unsteady. "Do we?"

His fingers brushed against my jaw, a soft contrast to the heat between us. "Yes." He exhaled. "Because when I finally have you, Wren, I'm not stopping."

A shiver ran down my spine at the promise in his voice.

"I don't want you to stop, Cassian."

Cassie Reed, a smart scholarship student with thick-rimmed glasses, walks into Elite College, which is known for its wealth and social standing. As she navigates her new life, she finds four interesting boys who will change her destiny forever.
There will be turns that will break your heart, lies, denial, and a lot of sex, but love will win in the end.

Most kids dream of becoming superheroes.
I was born to two of the most powerful heroes alive and dreamed of being normal.

That dream came with a price.

When my parents swore it would only happen over my dead body, I listened.
I planned.
I disappeared.

Declared dead, I finally escaped their world of masks, training, and impossible expectations. I built a life that was quiet. Ordinary. Mine.

But the past has a talent for resurrection.

After a brutal mutant attack shatters my fragile normal, secrets begin to surface. Not all of them belong to me. Lies unravel. Loyalties crack. And the truth about my family may be more dangerous than any villain they ever fought.

Faking my death was easy.
Surviving what comes next won’t be.

“You’re dripping,” he groaned. “You hear that? You’re making a mess all over me.”


He's the school's willful billionaire bad boy— hot, tall, handsome who made her fall and loosen herself for him just to find out it was all a lie.

A bet.

Well, two can dance a tango, right?

A comeback is all she needs. One that would make the so-called dangerous bad boy fall to his knees.

It wasn't just a game to him.

What if there's something more…

A facade he's hiding behind?

WARNING: Contains strong vulgar languages, sexual scenes, erotic contents, triggering situations, and lots more.

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?

"There is no us. There hasn't been for six years."
"You dropped divorce papers at my feet, Aidan. In front of cameras and everyone who mattered. Your mistress called me trash, and you stood there and said nothing."
"He is not yours, Aidan. He has a father. If I had been pregnant with your child back then, I would have gotten rid of it. You don't deserve anything from me."
Six years ago, Evelyn believed she had the perfect marriage.
On the night Aidan Smith celebrated his greatest achievement, she was ready to reveal the happiest news of her life. She was pregnant with his child.
Instead, she was publicly humiliated.
Aidan believed a cruel lie and chose his mistress over the wife who had loved him for years. In front of cameras and high society, he ended their marriage without knowing he was leaving behind a child who would change everything.
Heartbroken, Evelyn disappeared and started over.
Six years later, she returns as Evelyn Cole, a world renowned fashion designer and billionaire CEO. She built an empire, raised her son alone, and became the woman no one can look down on anymore.
Then fate brings her back into Aidan's life.
When the truth finally comes out, Aidan realizes the woman he abandoned was the greatest treasure he ever lost.
He wants his ex wife back.
But Evelyn Cole no longer belongs to him. And this time... he will be the one begging for her love.

Catherina Hanshaw Dalton has spent six years believing she lived a fairytale, married to billionaire Xavier Dalton, cherished by him, and building a life rooted in devotion, even amid one heartbreak she cannot control: their inability to have a child. Though Xavier assures her she is enough, Catherine senses his quiet disappointment, a wound deepened by the venomous hostility of his mother, Lydia Dalton. Lydia never misses a chance to insult Catherine’s infertility, idolize Xavier’s sister Mia and her children, or imply Xavier married beneath his status. Catherine endures it all, clinging to the one constant comfort, Xavier always defends her. Or so she believes.
This Christmas, however, Catherine’s dread of another humiliating Dalton family gathering turns into confusion. Lydia is gracious….kind, even. The manor is full of relatives, business partners, and esteemed guests, including Hunter Powell, Xavier’s ruthless business rival. The brief moment when Cathy’s eyes meet Hunter unsettles her, but nothing prepares her for Lydia’s “special Christmas gift.”
During the toast, Lydia presents Caroline Turner…a beautiful young woman who is allegedly four months pregnant through surrogacy…with Xavier’s child.

"Don't test me, Stone; your family has always thought that it was untouchable... Felt on top of the world, didn't you? You didn't care about who you needed to stomp down to get there?"

His fingers hung dangerously over the trigger; I shook as far as my binds would let me, tears rolling down to the gag in my mouth… that muffled my cries.

But even as I had the gun pointed at my head, my husband was not looking at me; his eyes were purely placed on Liliana.

“Talk to me, you bastard!.. You have to choose between your wife or your first love.”

On her wedding day, Aurora chased after her runaway groom who went to console his first love, only to be kidnapped along with that woman and tortured for 3 days straight until she was met with the ultimate pain; her fiancée, who she thought would turn to her forever, choosing another woman over her and not only that but confessing that his first love was carrying his child too. Just like she was, except he would never find out. At least not in that life; she took a bullet to the head and was reborn on the day of her wedding. When he runs off to meet his first love and console her again, she doesn't foolishly chase after him; rather, she walks towards his brother, the most desirable bachelor in the city, and says, “Will you marry me instead?"

When Alexander Carter, the ruthless and irresistibly charming CEO of one of the country’s largest corporations, walked into my office, I thought he was there to terminate my contract. After all, I had just lost everything in a project sabotaged by his company. But instead, he made me an offer that would change my life: marry him for one year.

Sounds crazy? Maybe. But with my younger sister depending on me and the bills piling up, refusing wasn’t an option. In return, he offered enough money to rebuild my career and a contract to lead a project I had always dreamed of.

There was just one rule: don’t fall in love.

Simple, right? Or so I thought. Until I realized that behind his cold demeanor and flawless suits was a man full of secrets. A man who started to unravel me with every touch, every whispered word, every lingering glance.

Now, as I fight to keep up the façade of the perfect wife and uncover the conspiracies within his world, one question remains: when all this ends, will I be able to walk away unscathed?

Eight years ago, I was the heir to a powerful dynasty—the man set to inherit an empire.

On the way home from a business deal, our convoy was ambushed and I was taken. My fiancée arrived with the ransom, and the kidnappers gave her a choice: save one man. She saved my closest friend—and left me bleeding in the ruins.

They thought I was dead. They went on camera, announced my “tragic death,” took my company, split my legacy, and lived on my name for eight long years.

But I didn’t die. A gray-zone mercenary unit pulled me out of a pile of bodies. I changed my name and climbed from the bottom of their world—training, bleeding, killing, leading—until I became one of their commanders.

Today, my fiancée is marrying my best friend. The invitation arrived with my name on it. I board a first-class flight under a new identity and head straight for their wedding.

Halfway through the ceremony, the priest asks if anyone objects.

I stand up. “I object.”

I didn’t come back to give my blessing. I came back to collect.

Noah, usually inseparable from his father, had spent the entire week insisting that only I take him camping. His declared mission: mastering "real survival skills"—a not-so-subtle jab at his dad's preference for cushy glamping.
Liam played along, hamming it up as he swung our son goodbye. But beneath the teasing jealousy, something felt off. He packed the trunk too fast. Checked the gas without being asked. Almost assembly-line efficiency.
And that line about a last-minute client flying in from Chicago? Didn't sound like bad luck. Sounded like an excuse.
All week, he never pushed back. Just quietly, almost eagerly, waited for us to leave.
I figured he wanted the house to himself: scotch, cigars, silence.
Then the call came—and I got it.
He hadn’t cleared the house for peace and quiet.
He’d cleared it for her.

I thought I'd signed up for an immersive dating show.

Turns out it was a 99.9% death rate, globally livestreamed horror game.

And me? Half-blind without my contacts, desperate to go viral, I somehow talk my way through a death game like it's a romance.

I mistook blood for ketchup, human eyeballs for sashimi, a murderous child ghost for a kid who just needed some love.

Worst part? I fell for the guy running the place, the one who could kill you without blinking, and tried to get his number within the hour.

My teammate hissed at me, shaking. "You wanna die, fine, just don't take us with you!"

I just waved him off. It's a dating show. Relax.

Betrayed and killed by the wolf king in my past life, I came back from hell. On the wedding day, I turned down his proposal without hesitation. I made a blood pact with his greatest enemy—the vampire king. Together, we avenged my child and family, and built a new future in the dark.

My daughter Lily was shot dead while she was performing on her own stage.
I rushed forward to shield her, and a speaker crashed down onto my right shoulder. The bone shattered.
My husband, Vincent, “shot the gunman dead” at once and sealed off the entire opera house.
When I woke up in the hospital room, the pain almost suffocated me. My right shoulder was wrapped in thick bandages, and when I tried to raise my arm, all I felt was a numb.
“…This isn’t what we agreed on.” The doctor’s voice was low and unsteady. “We only needed her blood sample for matching. Why did it have to go this far?”
“Lily’s blood type is a perfect match. This is the best possible outcome,” Vincent said. “I married Elena for this moment. I’ve been waiting for it.”
The doctor was silent for a few seconds. “But she’s your daughter… There’s no need to sacrifice a life, even if she is a Salaceno.”
Vincent cut him off. “You know how long an artificial heart can last. Camila’s daughter won’t hold out for long. I can’t put her through another surgery.”
“Camila’s child is the one I should cherish.”
At that moment, my blood ran cold. In his eyes, my daughter was nothing but an organ container.
He had no idea. All that talk about protecting his precious daughter—she wasn't even his.

They told me the baby was gone, but they didn't tell me my heart was being carved out, too.

I woke up on the operating table, paralyzed. Through my blurred vision, I saw my beloved husband, Marco, trembling with excitement as he held my medical chart.

"Her blood is perfect," he whispered. "It is a perfect match for Isabella. We can proceed with the transplant now."

"Finally. It wasn't in vain that I brought her back." My revered father let out a sigh of relief. "If it weren't for this day, how would someone who wandered outside for so many years be qualified to step into this house again?"

When my husband said "I love you," he actually meant "Your heart is perfect for the woman I truly love."

I couldn't scream; I couldn't move.

I could only watch helplessly as the silver scalpel pierced toward my chest, while my sister, Isabella, lay on the operating table next to me, smiling in her sleep.

I was never a long-lost daughter, nor was I a beloved wife.

I was just a mobile blood bank waiting to be slaughtered.

I was the unluckiest kid in my family—always the one pulling the black-tipped stick from that pretty little "Fairness Jar."
In our house, red meant new dresses, Disneyland, and a goodnight kiss from Mom. Black meant endless chores, lockup in the attic, and the kind of hunger that ate you from the inside out.
Mom loved to stroke my hair in front of the neighbors. "God gives everyone a fair shake," she'd say. "Riley's just a little unlucky, is all."
I believed her for fourteen years.
Until I had an asthma attack and died on that dusty attic floor.
The moment my soul slipped free, I looked down at the overturned Jar, its sticks scattered across the floorboards—and I finally understood why I'd drawn black every single time.

To help his life-saving benefactor, he personally pressed a pregnant me on the operating table to draw bone marrow.
I cried and begged him, "James, I'm pregnant. It's your child. Don't do this to me..."
But he had a look of disgust in his eyes. "Elizabeth, you'd lie about something like that just to get out of helping Mandy?"
Until there was a river of blood in the operating room and that unformed child turned into a pool of bloody water, he finally panicked.
Later, when he knew that the person who saved him in the fire ten years ago was actually me, he held my ashes and knelt outside the operating room for a full three days.

At the engagement party, Julian tore up our agreement on the spot, selling me for a single dollar to Callum, a man rumored to be a bloodthirsty, crippled psychopath.

Our mutual friend frowned.

"Are you out of your mind? Sylvia stayed by your side through your hardest three years, and you're really going to send her off to be tortured by a freak like Callum?"

Julian casually swirled the whiskey in his glass.

"It's just a little punishment. Rosie is carrying my child and needs a title, but Sylvia is too damn proud. Not only did she refuse to step down, but she also upset Rosie and affected her pregnancy."

"Callum is a twisted cripple. Give it three hours, and she'll break down completely. By then, she'll obediently accept Rosie's existence and even willingly stay as my hidden mistress."

The friend looked at my retreating back and couldn't help but ask, "Aren't you afraid you'll push her too far, that she'd rather stay with that psycho than come back to you?"

Julian let out a light scoff.

"Absolutely impossible. She loves me so much she'd give her life for me. Even if she takes a trip to hell, she'll only beg me to be her savior."

I picked up that one-dollar coin from the floor, without a single tear or tantrum.

Later, Julian broke into Callum's estate like a madman, begging me to go back with him.

But the disabled man from the rumors simply stood up, pulled me securely behind him, and sneered, "My wife. Is she someone you are even fit to touch?"

"What if I told you I don 't care?" Amelia shot back, her tone sharp and unwavering.
Miguel 's lips curved into a sly smile, his eyes gleaming with challenge. "Then I 'd say you 're lying to yourself, Mia. Because no one fights this hard unless they feel something."
Amelia Hart 's quiet, predictable life is upended when her mother marries the wealthy Emilio Sanchez, bringing Amelia face-to-face with her new stepbrother, Miguel Angel Sanchez.
Wanton, arrogant, and infuriatingly charming, Miguel is everything she detests in a person. But sharing a home—and a school—turns Amelia 's disdain into a fiery rivalry, and their clashes soon spark something neither of them can deny.
Torn between her lifelong crush on the handsome, dependable Christian Grammer and the undeniable pull toward Miguel 's dangerous charm, Amelia 's world becomes even more complicated than she imagined.
As secrets are exposed and the pressures of their families, the media, and their own hearts collide, Amelia and Miguel must decide whether to risk it all for a love that feels as impossible as it does inevitable.
In this passionate enemies-to-lovers story, where love and hate blur at every turn, the greatest risk might just be following their hearts.
The Fine Line Between Us is a story of forbidden romance, self-discovery, and the courage to follow your heart.

“You’re not dating anyone without my permission.”
Josh Evans has always been Eva’s biggest problem.
Not because he’s her brother’s best friend.
Not because he’s one of the most popular hockey players at school.
But because he’s been her crush for years—and the one guy her brother has made completely off-limits.
So when Josh finds out about the guy she’s been dating, he decides no one gets to date Eva without his approval.
For Eva, following the rule should be easy. She’s always known who she truly wants, even if she knows she can never have him.
But Josh has his own problem.
He knows Eva is off-limits. He knows she’s Peter’s little sister. He knows crossing that line could cost him his best friend.
So why does every guy she dates bother him?
Why does seeing her with someone else make him jealous?
And how long can he keep pretending his protectiveness is the only reason he can't stay away from her?

On the morning before Christmas Eve, I was polishing my shoes in my apartment, preparing to meet my girlfriend Camilla's parents, who lived in the uptown, the next day to discuss marriage.
Through years of hard work, I finally bought a house in the city.
I suddenly had a splitting headache, and a blue system interface appeared on my retina, telling me that the sea level would rise by 8,000 meters in 24 hours and that a deep-sea mutated tide would submerge the world.
To survive, I must get 10 people to each transfer $ 5,000 to me before the countdown ends , and I will receive an asylum spot for each transfer I receive.

After 3 years of bloody battles, the War King returns, only to hear his fiancée Elena “fell to her death”. But he finds she’s alive, pregnant, and imprisoned. He swears to slaughter all enemies and protect his woman and unborn child.

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."

The multi-million-dollar deal I worked my ass off to win back was handed over by my boss to a clueless new hire who could barely even read the material codes. And that same rookie had the nerve to mock me in public, saying I was nothing but his errand girl.
My boss went even further, tore up every rule in the book, and shoved a termination agreement right at me.
I didn't argue. I didn't make a scene. I took the severance and walked away.
Because I knew one thing better than anyone: without me, they wouldn't even make it through the manufacturers' front doors.
Sure enough, just days after I left, the entire supply chain fell apart, and the company's cash flow completely collapsed.
And when they started scrambling in desperation, running all over New York begging investment executives to save them, they walked straight onto my mother's turf.

For four years, I tolerated Grayson’s blatant favoritism. He spoiled my roommate Mia with exquisite breakfasts every day, while leaving me with plain biscuits and bitter black coffee. I swallowed every unfair slight, hoping for true love. Yet he finally humiliated me thoroughly by choosing Mia over me for the elite corporate event, sneering that I was unworthy of high society. Hiding my identity as the university’s secret heiress, I stopped my father from ruining his career on impulse. I will let them attend the glamorous party—not out of mercy, but to deliver my quiet, devastating revenge. Now I only need time to decide my next move, and whether to accept my arranged engagement.

"Baby, lend me Stella for the movie."
When my fiancé Damon said this, I thought it was the most romantic thing ever. My guide dog starring in his Oscar-worthy film—what a perfect love story.
I'm Aria Sinclair, 26-year-old blind film producer with perfect pitch and endless money, but no eyes. So when he said "The press will go crazy for our story," I stupidly agreed.
Three weeks later, in the editing room:
01:47:23—Dull impact.
01:47:31—Familiar whimper.
01:47:35—Silence.
My perfect pitch never lies. That wasn't CGI—that was real impact. Worse, I knew that whimper. That was Stella, my guide dog, my eyes, my most loyal companion.
They killed her. For a goddamn trophy.
On premiere night, when Damon walked the red carpet with a strange German Shepherd, when I touched her paw and found no white star-shaped mark—
"This is not my dog!"
I broke down in front of hundreds of reporters.
"Honey, you're under too much stress," Damon said gently. "Maybe you need rest."
Whispers from the audience: "Poor blind girl..." "She really needs help..."
Just like that, I became the crazy one.
Abandoned by the world.
Betrayed by the man I loved most.
But they made one fatal mistake—they thought stealing my eyes would silence me.
Now it's time to let them hear what despair sounds like...
[Click to watch me destroy them both...]

I bought a handsome, aloof incubus from a clearance sale online to be my live-in maid.
For a week, he was perfect. Then he started fainting, his skin burning with a fever no amount of rest could fix. Panicked that I’d somehow overworked my best employee, I called the 24/7 Aphrodisiac (companyI bought him from) helpline.

Ma’am, our incubus models have a demonic lineage and you have got a high-output model. They have near-infinite stamina. They don't get 'feverish' from vacuuming. But... why did you have him doing 'housework'?"
"Because the house was dirty?"
The agent suddenly chuckled. "Ah, I see. Everyone has their own fantasies and kinks. Roleplay is very popular. But tell me, according to the log, when was the last time Xanthos received physical intimacy?"
"Huh?"
"Physical intimacy," the agent repeated. "Love, spoiling, skin-to-skin contact. If a male incubus doesn't get intimacy, his internal energy stagnates. They fall sick. Male models are much higher maintenance than females; they need constant affection to stay healthy."
My blood ran cold. "Affection? I bought him to mop the floors!"
"Ma'am," the agent's voice dropped. "You are on Aphrodisiac. We are the world's leading provider of supernatural escorts. Did you... did you not read the site description?"

Turns out, I hadn’t bought a demonic domestic servant.
I’d accidentally purchased a high-maintenance supernatural escort.
And apparently, if I didn’t start showing my “maid” some affection soon, he would die and I would be jailed for abusing my maid.

"Riccardo, please! I beg you!"
My water broke ten minutes ago. Warm liquid streamed down my legs and slowly froze into ice on the ground beneath me.
He stood on the other side of the bulletproof glass. In his eyes, there was not a trace left of the man I had once loved with all my heart.
In the Bellanona Mafia family, bloodline surpasses everything, and the hierarchy of age is an unyielding iron rule: the firstborn son shall inherit the entire underworld empire.
My sister-in-law Sofia and I were both pregnant, our due dates merely one day apart.
To make sure his elder brother’s child seized the succession right first, my husband coldly chose to sacrifice our own flesh and blood.
"My brother’s child must be born first." Riccardo’s voice came over the intercom, colder and more piercing than bitter winter wind. "This is what you owe them."
He had not only locked me inside this icy cellar. Just moments ago, his men pinned me down ruthlessly and injected a dose of medicine into my vein, solely to forcefully halt my labor.
Writhing in agony, I hugged my heavily pregnant belly tightly with both arms.
I could distinctly feel the little life inside me, once kicking and struggling relentlessly, growing fainter and fainter.
I’m sorry, my baby… Mommy is so sorry for you.

One month before the SATs, I saw my predicted score floating right above my head.
But every time I finished a practice test, the score automatically dropped by 20 points.
And if I skipped class to party for a day, it went up by 20 points.
In my past life, I partied for a whole month, and the score above my head reached a perfect 1600.
But when the results finally came out, I only scored a 400.
And my sister Seraphina got a 1600!
My father, Richard Vanderbilt, was absolutely furious.
My mother, Eleanor Vanderbilt, fueled the fire beside him.
She convinced my father to send me to a troubled teen boarding school.
They cut off my funds and threw me out of the mansion.
That very night, I was cornered by a group of street thugs in a dark alley and beaten to death.
As I lay dying, I heard Seraphina's voice.
"You always played the untouchable genius, Rhea. But you still got fooled by the score above your head."
That was when I finally realized the truth.
My SAT score had been completely controlled and siphoned by my sister.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back to exactly one month before the exam.

My husband's first love was in trouble.
When the news came, I was lying on the operating table.
Dr. Miller put down his scalpel and said to Dr. Johnson, "I'll leave my wife's surgery to you."

"If I don’t go now, I might regret it for the rest of my life."

With that, he turned and walked away.
Watching my husband's retreating figure, I couldn't hold back—tears fell.
The next second, the cold blade of a scalpel touched my skin.

Dr. Johnson spoke calmly, "Why the tears? With me here, you'll be fine."

My husband told me our daughter was brain-dead. He put a pen in my hand and told me to sign the organ donation form. He said it was the merciful thing to do.
I signed.
Then I watched her heart get cut out and transplanted into another child — his mistress's son.
He'd been planning it for months. The fake diagnosis, the doctor who happened to be his college girlfriend, the night his mother lured me away from the hospital so they could drug my little girl.
When I found out the truth, he killed me for it.
But somehow, I woke up back at that desk. Same pen. Same form. Same lying face waiting for my signature.
This time, I'm not signing. This time, they pay.

"You are like a father to me, I can't marry you."
"If you can't, then I guess you prefer to be an orphan if your mother dies."
Juliet Jones, was torned in between saving her mother's precious life, and getting into a contract marriage with her father's closest friend, George Watson.
And when she was left with no better choice, and the time is ticking faster on her mother, she got married to Mr George, to save her mother's life.
But unfortunately it was too late, and her mother died, after she had already signed a contract agreement with Mr George.

Seraphina already knew what pleasure felt like, a secret she shared with her mother’s old friend.
Now, that secret is always with her. When her mother moves in with a new fiancé, Seraphina has to go with them to his large house. But she does not expect to meet a charming stepbrother, who quietly watches over her. A dangerous sexy eyes that want her in ways she cannot ignore. Seraphina tries to forget her past, but her sexual hormones kept failing her. How long will she hold herself?.......Sexual emotion know no boundaries....

“Don’t move.” His voice is low, commanding, and my body obeys before my mind can even process it.
I'm pressed against the cold marble wall of the palace, his hands traces my thigh, my body heated up in desire or fear, I can’t tell.
“Tell me you want this,” he murmurs, pressing his hardened cock against my pulsing center,
“Tell me you crave me Aria,” his lips brushes my ears.
“Tell me you want me to fuck you till the entire of Olympus hear you moan my name.” he nibbles on my ear.
I bite back a gasp, because yes, I want him. I want him in ways I shouldn't, in ways that terrify me.

Aria Hale was never meant for the underworld and she hated the king of the underworld more than anything.
After Aria is betrayed by her sister and fiance, She finds herself in the underworld and soul-bound to Hades… the god of death, danger and impossible desire. He's commanding, possessive and devastatingly handsome, with powers that makes her ache and his dominance that ignites a sudden fire inside of her that she can’t seem to control.
Although enemies at first sight, they are forced into a marriage that pushes her limit and in turn she challenges the control of Hades. In those stolen electric moments, their desire becomes impossible to resist.
But Aria is not done. Thrust back into earth by a mysterious shadow that she strikes a blood oath with. She comes back to earth for revenge against those who betrayed her and stop their plans before it happens.
But the underworld is bubbling and she is more dangerous than Hades expected….Far more dangerous.
Will Aria give into the passionate love between her and Hades or will she risk everything for her revenge and power?

"Run, mi amor, run, while I watch."
"I feel his eyes everywhere, always watching!"
Ever heard of a hunter becoming the hunted?
That is what happened to Victoria Alexander.
After years of getting betrayed by her husband and best friend, Victoria returns to the city, stronger and more determined to ruin his seemingly happy home.
But things turns out sour for her as her mission for revenge turns into a game in a serial murder case.
While hunting her ex-husband's happiness and an unknown serial killer, Victoria suddenly becomes the hunted.
The thrilling part is that she isn't hunted by just anyone but a powerful shadow, hidden in the dark, watching. Always watching with nothing but a single phrase that leaves chills in her.

Marriage is meant to be a dream come true, but Isolde Conklin’s marriage is the complete opposite. Sold to a cruel Alpha by her parents, she endures three agonizing years of constant assault.

During one cold night, she’s had enough of the humiliation and constant harassment. So she does something insane—she kills her own husband.

Soaked in his blood, she runs as bullets fly over her head, but she’s eventually saved by Alpha Ryder of the Redblood pack.

But Ryder didn’t save her because he cares. He saved her because he wants to avenge his mother’s death. Now trapped in a pack full of secrets, enemies, and men who would do anything to claim her, Isolde must survive or risk losing everything…..including her life.

In his past life, Ethan was thrown straight to the flesh-eating horde by his bitter rival, Ryan.
Reborn days before the outbreak, he liquidates every asset he owns to build an impenetrable fortress—trading useless paper wealth for heavy steel plates, industrial deadbolts, and hard inventory numbers.
Ten days later, hell opens up, and the suburbs turn into a lawless, blood-soaked meat grinder.
Then comes a frantic knock on his heavy security door.
It’s Mara—Ryan’s drop-dead gorgeous, curvaceous wife—soaked to the bone, desperate, and begging for shelter.
Behind his wall of monitors, Ethan looks down at the security feed with absolute, icy detachment.
"My fortress. My rules. Out here, I call the shots."