8016 Book(s) Related to for whom the bell tolls novel

I gave birth to three children for my ruthless mafia husband. And every single time, he tore the newborns from my blood-soaked sheets and handed them straight to my barren sister.
For seven years, I endured electroshock therapy and brutal captivity, reduced to nothing but a breeding vessel to complete their "picture-perfect" family.
He thought he had broken my spirit long ago. That’s why, when the assassins struck, he didn't hesitate to shove me into the line of fire as a human shield.
To protect his true love, he threw my bleeding, wounded body into a freezing water cell as their perfect scapegoat.
He thought tossing me a few scraps of mercy would have me crawling back to him, begging like a dog.
But he was dead wrong.
When the bone-chilling water swallowed me, I didn't panic or thrash. I simply smiled, letting the black depths drag me under.
Domenico could never have imagined that the cold, lifeless corpse he personally sent to the morgue was my perfect escape, seven agonizing years in the making.
He stole my babies. He stripped away every last ounce of my dignity.
So now, I’m going to take away everything he holds dear, piece by agonizing piece: his empire, his power, and the love he arrogantly thought he could control forever.

I remember that frost-covered train door like it was the last thing I ever saw. Because it was.
The escape spot I’d spent three years scraping together? My fiancée was sitting in it, wearing my parka. Her brother had my hiking boots on his feet. Her mother clutched the medical kit I’d carried six miles through ash-covered roads. And Caleb Frost—the ex she’d sworn was just “someone from the past”—stood in the seat that should have been mine, lifting my silver emergency flask in a toast.
While I froze out in the subzero ash storm, my lungs burning like they were filled with shards of broken glass, they turned their backs to me under the warm yellow light inside.
Then I woke up.
The calendar read May 3, 2041. Exactly one year before the Yellowstone chain eruption would turn the northern hemisphere into a frozen grave.
On the TV, experts were still downplaying the volcanic tremors, insisting there was no immediate risk to the public. My fiancée walked into the bedroom wearing one of my white shirts, carrying coffee in the blue mug she’d bought with my card. She reached for my forehead, asking if I’d had a bad dream.
None of them know I’ve already died once.
They’re still plotting how to make me pay for her brother’s failed investments, how to sneak texts to her old boyfriend, how to use me as their most obedient, most useful doormat until the world ends. I’ve sold the downtown office towers, mortgaged the lakefront house, bought the abandoned geothermal station no one wanted in the dead mountains, and signed a stack of engineering contracts they’ll never bother to read.
They still smile and thank me, tell me I’m the best fiancé in the world.
They have no idea who will be holding the key to the door, when the sky goes dark forever and the snow never stops falling.

In Heaven, there exists an iron law: during the Ascension Ceremony, if a bride fails nine times to complete the bonding flight with her groom's Divine Cloak, her soul is deemed tainted, and she will be cast into the Abyss for seven centuries of penance.
I was once Heaven's greatest warrior, until I threw myself before the hellfire meant for Archangel Gabriel—and lost my wings forever.
I endured eight Ascension ceremonies. Each time, Gabriel found a reason to delay.
Then came the ninth. My last chance. One flight bound to his Divine Cloak, and I would soar again—my name cleared, my honor restored.
But atop the ceremonial tower, he unclasped the cloak from his own shoulders and wrapped it around Irene, the trembling Healing Angel.
"Cecilia, Irene needs this more. You're strong—you'll survive the fall."
He'd forgotten one thing: without wings, this height would kill me.
I didn't beg. I simply met his eyes—and stepped off the edge.
I woke in the arms of the Demon Lord I'd once shown mercy.
He spread ten pairs of wings that blotted out the heavens and carried me back to Heaven as his queen.
And Gabriel—that proud Archangel—knelt at my feet, tears streaming, begging me to look at him just once more.

The agony of flesh being torn apart still burned in my memory.
But I had been reborn.
I tremblingly touched the face in the mirror. Whole, unmarked. Was this real?
Just moments ago I had been struggling on death's edge, and now I stood in an 18-year-old body. Everything felt too surreal.
The entire pack still thought I was that naive Elena, forever living in the shadow of my pureblood sister Sarah. They didn't know I had seen the darkest truth.
The door suddenly burst open, and Sarah walked in carrying a cup of hot tea.
"Elena, don't stress yourself." Her voice carried an air of superiority. "Given your... situation, the Moon Goddess would be more forgiving."
Looking at her flawless smile, I was nearly sick to my stomach. This face, this expression—I had witnessed it countless times in my past life.
"About fated mates and all..." Sarah gently stroked my shoulder. "It's not something you absolutely have to follow. If you find Alpha Lucas too domineering, choosing a gentler Alpha would be a good option too. I'll stand by you either way."
Stand by me? I nearly laughed out loud.
In my past life, I had been blinded by these very words. I had given up other opportunities and chosen my fated mate Alpha Lucas, only to become a tool to mask his true feelings.
The truth hadn't surfaced until Sarah's birthday celebration. When the rogue wolves' claws had targeted her, that man who had claimed to love me for years hadn't hesitated to push me toward the pack.
As I collapsed in a pool of my own blood, the wolf claws having torn deep gashes across my flesh, I watched Lucas cradling Sarah protectively while she clutched her belly in panic.
"Save Sarah! Quickly, save her! The child in her belly..." Lucas had immediately rushed her to the medical room.
No one had paid attention to me lying in a pool of blood. In everyone's eyes, only Sarah had mattered.
"It's all my fault," Sarah had said weakly. "If I hadn't gotten pregnant, Elena wouldn't have been lashing out in jealousy..."
What? She had actually claimed I was lashing out in jealousy?
"Elena, I'm sorry... I'll make it up to you in the next life." Lucas had given me one last look, his eyes full of guilt.
Next life?
You got me killed, and you still wanted me to give you a chance in the next life? Dream on!

After months of being bullied at school, things got even worse—the bullies said they wanted to come to my house.
Wanted to see what kind of family a "dog" like me came from.
I begged them, sobbing, not to do it.
Because my dad is a serial killer. My mom is a twisted murderer. And my brother is a full-blown psychopath.
If they come to my house, they will die.

Growing up, my parents and brother favored only me, treating my sister Della like a burden. They locked her in the basement and fled overnight with me to Aldermere.
Twenty years later, for the sake of my upcoming wedding, they brought me back to that old house to erase the last traces of her existence.
But none of us expected that Della wasn't dead. Decades had passed, yet she still looked exactly as she did back then. She even followed us to our new home—and right now, she’s sitting quietly on our living room sofa, slowly turning her head to smile at us...

A noble homecoming turns into a death sentence. Jessica uncovers dark abyss magic hidden inside gift chocolate. With no way to break the threeday binding curse, she lets her dying lover take its power. Revenge unfolds in full view at the grand temple engagement ceremony. Victory comes with an irreversible price: true love lives inside another woman’s skin.

I died once.

Spent seventy years as a housewife the first time around. Biggest regret? Never felt my heart race.

Met her in this life, and that's when I learned what being alive actually meant. In this world where assassins pay in gold coins and seek sanctuary at Continental hotels, we became a duo called "Swans," hunting down the man who destroyed her family. Every single day, dancing on a razor's edge.

Two years ago, the explosion killed Raven Hayes right in front of me.

To survive, I married a naive tech heir, slipped into silk dresses and started doing the charity gala circuit, tried to convince myself this was the peace I wanted.

Until that enemy became a High Table member and announced a hundred-million-dollar bounty on me to the world.

I used to be scared. Used to run. Used to ask why it had to be me.

But sitting at my vanity, staring at this stranger's face in the mirror, all done up like some socialite, I suddenly realized none of it mattered anymore.

I'm going to die eventually anyway. Might as well die looking like myself.

When I was reborn, and my Alpha husband's ward clamped a muzzle around my neck as a joke...
I didn't shift into my wolf and tear her arm off like in my past life.
I ripped off the bloody muzzle and gave Roman a smile.
"If you think this is a joke, keep indulging her."
And I walked away without looking back.
Because my death in my previous life was too miserable.
After our fallout, Roman used his Alpha authority to freeze my accounts overnight.
Exiled, I was diagnosed with terminal silver poisoning.
Dying in agony, I swallowed my pride and crawled back to the Pack gates.
But he let Chloe force me to my knees and refused to open the doors.
In the end, my wolf spirit shattered, and I froze to death.
I only understand after dying: love and dignity are worthless.
Survival and money are all that matter.

I helped Cassian conquer the seven floating cities and claim the Dragon Throne.
On the day he became king, he cast me aside for a lowborn dragon girl.
I exposed her as an Abyss spy, and she killed herself before the court.
Cassian thanked me in public, but he never forgave me for taking her away.
Years later, he accused me of serving the Abyss, slaughtered my entire fire-wing clan, and burned me alive.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back at his coronation.
This time, I'm not saving his throne. I'm burning it down.

Young love and devotion fell to his marital greed. In reckless indulgence, Nate ruined his lifelong lover and family. He sided with his mistress, ignored my agony and child loss, and pushed me into despair. Seven years later, the once-glorious Wall Street elite fell utterly abandoned and destitute. Repentant and desperate, he begged for redemption. But his belated love now only meets my cold, unwavering indifference.

Julian and I played house for five years—minus the actual marriage certificate. Because he bailed on me at the registry office twelve times. All for Mia, some intern.

First time: Mia screwed up her pitch.

Sixth time: Mia had the flu.

Twelfth time: Mia's ex showed up at our architecture firm throwing punches. Julian had to play knight in shining armor. I got knocked into a desk, cracked my head open—he didn't spare me a glance before whisking her off to the ER.

Before, I would've lost it. Screamed. Sobbed. Begged him to tell me who the hell he was actually planning to marry. And every single time, Julian would sigh and say, "Chloe, really? She's just an intern. Practically a child."

This time, all I said was: "Go ahead."

Then I turned around and took that job overseas.

When his thirteenth text came through—yet another registry office reschedule—I was already at the gate for my London flight.

This time? I'm choosing me.

A bored demon out for a good time came after me and my worst enemy, and locked us in a room with no door.

The rules are simple. We each have to confess three secrets the other one has no idea about, for his amusement, and only then do we get out.

Weston raises an eyebrow, that lazy, punchable smirk on his face.

"After ten years of being at each other's throats, what could you possibly still be hiding from me?"

He doesn't know I never actually hated him.

He doesn't know that three months ago, at that masquerade, the woman he slept with was me.

And he definitely doesn't know the baby I'm carrying is his.

My billionaire husband handed me a pill and a separation agreement.
"Take this temporary amnesia drug. You'll forget me for a few weeks while I marry Chloe to fulfill her dying wish. Don't worry, I'll give you the antidote later."
He expected me to scream, cry, and beg him to stay. Instead, I swallowed the pill dry and calmly packed my bags.
Day 3: I tossed my heirloom Cartier engagement ring to his mistress without batting an eye.
Day 12: I accidentally witnessed his wedding rehearsal, critiqued his recycled vows with a straight face, and left him standing there, terrified by my absolute indifference.
He thought I was just acting tough. He didn't know I was the neuroscientist who created that drug. There is no antidote. In 21 days, all my love for him will be permanently and irreversibly erased.
But how hard will a man break when he realizes his wife is already on a one-way flight to Switzerland, and she doesn't even remember his name?

At twenty-nine, Dominic Brooks owns this city's underworld.

This year, I'm pregnant again. Finally.

But on our daughter's death anniversary, he doesn't show. Five hours. Nothing.

I find him at our casino with some girl draped all over him. The same girl I pulled out of a trafficking ring two years ago.

She's laughing loud enough for everyone to hear. "His wife won't stop crying about that dead kid. God, he's so over it."

He kisses her. Right in front of me.

Three days later, he tears up our daughter's grave. His mistress wants a swimming pool.

The shovel comes down. My unborn baby goes with it.

Years ago, Dominic taught me the rules of our world. How we handle traitors.

Time for a reminder.

In my previous life, when the extreme cold apocalypse arrived, I was drained of all value and heartlessly kicked into an ice pit by my ex-girlfriend.

When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the time before the apocalypse erupted!

On my phone screen, my girlfriend was still arrogantly issuing ultimatums: "If you don't deliver that eight-thousand-dollar Chanel bag to me today, don't even think about touching me ever again!"

I sneered coldly, decisively blocking this gold-digger who was prepared to devour me alive on all platforms. Then I immediately unlocked the seven-million-dollar trust fund my grandfather had left me and went on a shopping spree for the city's top-tier extreme survival supplies!

A few hours later, an unprecedented extreme polar vortex swept across North America.

When my ex-girlfriend and street thugs frantically pounded on my half-meter-thick reinforced steel blast door, what greeted them wasn't just the aroma of fireplace-grilled steak, but also me and my hardcore parents holding heavy firearms.

This year, out of nowhere, my mate Dominic told me to take two months off and go to Ashvale with our son, Finn. Eight years, and he'd never once given me a single day off.
I thought he'd finally noticed how tired I was.
Then Maren found a letter in his study. It was from his Beta, laying out the whole plan. Move his old flame Camille and her daughter into the main house. Hold a mating ceremony the moment I was gone.
I don't know how long I stood there holding that letter before I could think straight again.
If my mate wanted to bring her home and pick up where they left off, that was his business.
I packed our son's things for Ashvale.
I just wasn't planning on coming back.

In my past life, when I eagerly handed my ultrasound to my gentle doctor husband, I didn't get a warm embrace. I got a scalpel. Without anesthesia.

The man I loved dragged me into a pitch-black basement to butcher me alive. My once-doting mother called me a filthy whore, treating me like a sickening stain on the family. My fiercely protective brother pinned me to a metal workbench, offering me up as a living sacrifice.

I died in utter agony, left to rot and be eaten alive by rats in the dark. Up until my last breath, I couldn't understand:

Why did a single piece of paper—a sonogram of a perfectly healthy baby—instantly turn my entire family into bloodthirsty monsters?

The day I closed another major deal, my fiancé, the CEO, smiles and tells me the credit and the bonus are going to the new intern.

I watch him lean in close to her, laughing, and something in me just stops caring enough to fight for it.

I sign the transfer request and ship myself off to the most useless department in the company.

What I don't expect is that a few days later, the same man who never looked twice at anyone beneath him is going to be on his knees begging me to come back.

On the day I died, Roland was rolling in the sheets with his adopted sister, Lavinia.
When the hospital called with my death notice, he scoffed. It was just drawing some blood, how could anyone die from that? He was certain I was just throwing a tantrum again, desperate for his attention.
The day he received my ashes, he personally smashed the wooden urn to the ground. His expensive leather shoes ground my ashes into the floor over and over as he coldly announced he was going to marry Lavinia and throw a grand wedding—the exact wedding I had begged for when I was alive but never got.
It wasn't until the day before their wedding that his assistant, Desmond, rushed in, trembling.
"Sir, it's bad... We pulled the security footage from the hospital, and... the madam's autopsy report."

I took a bullet for my husband five years ago. He married me in the ICU before the anesthesia wore off.
Raffaele Santoro—heir to the most powerful mafia family in Italy—told me I was his everything. He bought a castle and named it after me. He reserved a grave beside his parents so we'd lie together for eternity.
While I was pumping my body full of hormones for our fourth round of IVF, he was across town watching his childhood sweetheart give birth to twin boys.
He named one of them Dante—the name I'd chosen for our future son.
The night I found out, I was seven weeks pregnant with his child.
I didn't tell him.
I called my best friend and said: I need everyone to think I'm dead.

I found the thirteenth piece of evidence of Reid's affair today.

Black lace panties, shoved deep between his car seats.

The first time, it was designer lipstick in his glove box. "Oh, that's mine," my friend Mia shrugged. "Must've fallen out when Reid gave me a ride."

The sixth time, a hotel key card in his console. "I borrowed his car for a business trip," my brother Owen explained calmly. "Stop being so paranoid, Nadia."

Thirteen times. Thirteen perfect excuses.

When I confront Reid with the panties, he just makes a phone call.

On speaker, Mia and Owen claim the underwear is theirs—some late-night hookup in my fiancé's back seat. "You're being ridiculous, Nadia," they snap in unison. "You're getting married. Start acting like it. Trust him."

I watch Reid's face, that innocent mask he wears so well.

Then I smile.

Because I bought those panties myself. I planted them there.

And now I finally know who's been his accomplice all along.

My neighbor Beck Morrow was the best high school point guard this state had seen in years.
The night before the state championship—three college scouts in the stands—he decided to stay home with his girlfriend instead. She wasn't feeling well.
I called his coach.
He played. He got the scholarship. He built a company worth eight figures before he turned thirty, and I spent five years writing every algorithm that company ran on.
He repaid me by throwing a ball at my head during a training session. Then his lawyers sent a letter explaining that I had no legal claim to any intellectual property developed under my employment contract, effective immediately, and that my position was being terminated.
Then I woke up. It was the first week of senior year again.

My uncle has a hunting cabin in Alaska. Every December, I stay there for a few days.

This year he wasn't there—left me the keys.

When I walked in, I noticed there was a new deer head mount above the fireplace.

Not a whitetail deer. A moose. Very large.

But I noticed its eyes weren't made of glass.

Those two eyeballs looked... too real.

The pupils even contracted in the light.

I texted my uncle asking when he'd shot this moose.

He replied: "What moose?"

I looked at the mount again.

Its lips moved slightly.

Not the rise and fall of breathing, but... trying to form a word.

I’m the only princess of the Iron Claw Pack. My Alpha father chose three pure-blooded wolves from the Johnson family to grow up at my side. The man I choose won’t just be my mate—he’ll become the Pack’s next Alpha.
In my last life, I chose the younger twin, David, because he was always gentle and considerate.
But less than a year after our bonding ceremony, he died.
Only when our mate bond stirred again did I learn the truth: David had faked his death—because the one he loved was Emma.
When Rogues attacked, David threw away his life to save me, only to beg that if there were a next life, I would never choose him again.
When I opened my eyes, I was back on the day I had to choose my mate. This time, I grabbed a file at random.
It was David’s twin brother, Nate—my sworn enemy.

At the family dinner, a Wall Street rising star flaunted his power in front of me, boasting that he was the chief agent of the "Godfather of the Underworld."
My ex-wife's family fawned over me like dogs, pointing their fingers at me and taunting, "You spineless, gigolo trash, you're not even worthy to carry Mr. Victor's shoes!"
Victor, even more smug, turned on speakerphone, trying to use my privileges to curry favor with my wife.
I stood silently in the corner, coldly pressing a blood-red command: [Permanently Delete Account].
The next second, the system's cold pronouncement came through his phone: "Warning, you have overstepped your authority and have been banned across the entire network!"
The room fell silent instantly.
They had no idea that I was the true Godfather, the one who controlled a multi-billion dollar empire and ruled the Western underworld!

Jevan Hollen was the most popular boy at his highschool. Blossom Wright was the new student who earned a scholarship to Jevan's school during their senior year. When she first laid eyes on him, she knew she immediately liked him although the fast friends she made warned her against it due to Jevan's ex-girlfriend, head-cheerleader and 'queen b' but Jevan and Blossom grew closer and eventually started dating which made his ex-girlfriend furious. She cooked up a lie and it led to Blossom and her mother getting deported.
It's years later when Blossom returned and she now has a son. And Jevan has a fiancee.

“You’re not having her,” I spoke, shielding her with my body.
“So be it.” And he fired.

Six years ago, a stupid lie shattered the bond between rich heiress Zenobia Hollen and her best friend, Kyle Livingston. Now, Kyle is back—broke, regretful, and desperate for a second chance. When Zenobia needs a new personal bodyguard, he seizes the opportunity, determined to prove he’s more than the boy who betrayed her.

But forgiveness isn’t Zenobia’s strength. Forced into proximity, their past is a minefield of resentment and unresolved passion. As Kyle risks his life to protect her from real threats, the line between duty and desire blurs. Can they navigate the dangers of the present and the ghosts of their past, or will the secrets and scars they carry destroy any chance of a future? In a world of luxury, lies, and lethal intentions, some second chances come with a bullet.

"Gold in her eyes, fire in her soul".

Jean Taylor, billionaire extraordinaire, seems like a regular crazy-rich woman (if that can be considered regular) to everyone, except for one thing; nobody knows who she is or exactly where she comes from. She has made sure everything is well-hidden with good reason.

The knowledge of who she is and where she comes from will liquefy the human brain.

Who is she? Where is she from? And how on earth can she slice a man open with just one look?

Find out in this thrilling story about a woman who is one part ruthless billionaire (who just so happens to love foot massages) and another part lost queen (who walks between dimensions trying to save her kingdom -and her horse).

Oh, and did I mention her amazing powers passed down through generations? Raw power that can take any form she wills them to take?

What an exciting adventure this is about to be!

🔞⚠️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.

Evan Hollen had it all. The looks, the charm, the girls and the CEO job position at his father's company. Jasmine Blackman was the ordinary assistant with a crush on her boss. Her day-dreaming and fantasies eventually escalated when the two shared drinks and ended up in bed together, and just when she thought she should open up to him about the way she, Evan rejected her. But Evan was only fooling himself. His feelings grew towards Jasmine but she was already looking in the direction of another man.

I gave him everything.
My heart, my trust, my future. Four years of love, devotion, and blind loyalty. And what did I get in return? Betrayal. Humiliation. Loss.
Simon Smith chose my sister over me… and in that one selfish moment, he shattered my world. He left me broken, alone, and with a secret wound no one could see. My son… gone. My life… thrown into chaos.
But I refuse to let him have the final say. I refuse to be the woman who waits, who cries, who begs for scraps of a love that was never mine to begin with.
Now, it's my turn to reclaim everything. My strength. My freedom. My heart. And one man steady, loyal, and unwavering is about to remind me that love isn't just about giving it's about being valued, truly cherished, and never underestimated.
Some men think they can break a woman and keep her in pieces. Some men think they can betray her and expect her to return. Simon is about to find out the truth: some hearts heal… and some never belong to him again.


"I missed you, Anika."
"I have never seen you before in my life, sir."
"You think you can just leave me and replace me? You are mine!"
"Did your mother not teach you that grabbing random strangers is wrong?"
"Anika…"
"Stay away from me."

“You’re mine, June.”
“I’m not yours, Mr. Macaulay.”
“You’re mine. Mine alone. Every inch of you belongs to me. I will not have another man touch you, ever,” he growls through gritted teeth.
“I’m not yours. Not until you claim me,” I fire back. “Until then, I’m just a woman who warms your bed… just like I’ll warm other men’s beds too.”
His pupils dilate as his grip tightens around my arm.
“Do not test me, June,” he says, voice low and deadly. “I swear on my life, any man who so much as lays a hand on you… I’ll rip his fingers off and feed them to my dogs.”


June Fontaine had always loved her boyfriend too deeply, giving him her heart even when it tore her apart.
For three years, she lived in the shadow of his ex, a relationship that slowly swallowed her.
Until one night changed everything, and she broke up with him.
Fueled by heartbreak and the bitter sight of her ex moving on like she never mattered, June made a dangerous, impulsive choice that threw her into the arms of a stranger she could not forget—even after she ran from him.
Two weeks later, she saw the stranger again—now richer and more powerful than she could have imagined.
In a city like Las Vegas, men like him do not chase.
They own.
And he wants her.
Obsession becomes possession. Desire becomes dangerous.
He cannot let her go. She cannot stay away.
While he falls for her in a way that feels almost forbidden, he holds back, haunted by a past that refuses to let him claim her.
But she refuses to be hidden.
She refuses to be just another secret in a powerful man’s world.

"You're mine, June."
"I'm not yours, Mr. Macaulay."
"Not yet," he says, his voice low with certainty. "But one day, you'll understand what you mean to me."
"I belong to myself," I reply, refusing to become another woman controlled by a powerful man.
June Fontaine spent three years loving a man who never truly chose her. She gave him everything, only to live in the shadow of his ex and a love that slowly destroyed her.
Until one unforgettable night changed everything.
Heartbroken after seeing her past move on without regret, June made a reckless decision and spent one night with a mysterious stranger. She left before morning, believing they would never meet again.
Two weeks later, she walked into her new workplace and froze.
The stranger from that night was her new boss.
Adrian Macaulay was a billionaire CEO, a man who always got what he wanted. And now, he wanted her.
But June refuses to be a secret hidden behind his success. She wants to be valued, not possessed. She wants a love where she is chosen, not controlled.
Adrian never expected one night to change his life forever. Now, he must prove that she is not just the woman from one unforgettable night.
She is the only woman he can never let go.

Emily Hollen and Sebastian were high school sweethearts but a lie created by a vicious ex-girlfriend drove a wedge between the couple causing an end to their relationship.
It's now years later and they're adults. Emily is a hotelier with a passion for traveling and establishing hotels around the world. Her next destination took her to a country she wasn't familiar with and it was governed by a monarchy. What a surprise it was for Emily when she learnt the soon-to-be-king was Sebastian and he was looking for a bride to rule at his side.

The Daniels Family is that awesome billionaire celebrity family, owning the biggest conglomerate in the country. They have the fame and are portrayed as family goals, philanthropists, humble family and all.

Ruby Coker gets married to their one and only son, by arranged marriage of course. Loose ends had to be tied, acting and smiling for the camera is what she had to learn because behind closed doors, the Daniels' family might not be what they portray.

What the public sees might just be what they want them to see and not who they are. Here is a Glimpse into what happens behind the spotlight and what it means to smile for the camera.

Anna Wells' had a terrible habit of hooking up with men who are already in a relationship or even a marriage. Seduction and having her way were the only thing she was actually good at and when she next 'target' was an engaged millionaire, she found herself in a world of trouble, especially when she learnt she was pregnant.

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...

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

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!