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She's pregnant with my brother's baby. And if he doesn't marry her, I will.


It was Austin’s turn to seething with rage. “You are not aborting that child.” His voice echoed menacingly, animosity lingering in the air around them.

My body, my rules.” She shot back with an unbothered shrug.

“I don’t think you have much of a choice.” He barked. The idea of marriage and children had never crossed his mind. It wasn’t a part of his life plan. “I’d chain you to a bed for the entire nine months if I have too.”

She blinked, stupefied that he thought himself capable. “I think you forget who you are speaking too, Austin.” She pronounced his name with disgust. “You cannot scare or manipulate me into following along with your ideas.” Marriage? To Austin Demon Cyner? Now that was a delusion. “A stupid one at that.” She added, eyeing him meticulously.

“Marry me, Skylar. It’s a win-win; a marriage of convenience.” He’d cleared his throat and was taking long strides towards her. Suddenly the room felt too small to contain the sheer size of him.

“I severely dislike you, though. What am I winning exactly?” her feet were traveling backwards, unwilling to have her standing up too close to him.

“A stable home for your child,” the sound of his shoes tapping rhythmically in her ear “Our child.” He added on quickly, his voice low, compelling her to agree.

“I don’t recall you being in the room when it was made.”


Check out another story in the same collection: His Tempting Captive

"I'm sorry, Ava, but you can no longer be my mate because you are not up to my level. You are now just a mere human," Caleb said, which made Ava extremely angry.

"After all the sacrifices I have made? My brother gave his life for you! I became a mere human because of you! It's the sacrifice I made! I had to lose my hybrid powers in order to break your curse, and after all that, you reject me?" Ava said, tears streaming down her face.

"Well, that's how you see it!" Alpha Caleb responded before walking away.

If you were in Ava's shoes, what would you do? Not sure? Let's dive in and see what Ava did!

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.

They gave him 24 hours to hand over the girl.
He gave them 30 seconds to regret .

Jack Cole was supposed to be nobody—just another quiet college student.
No records. No past. No trace he ever existed.

But when a powerful family tries to take his cousin as part of a dirty deal…
and a billionaire heiress becomes the target of a professional kill team…

Something buried comes back.

The campus?
Just his cover.

The truth?
He’s a weapon trained for war—
the kind governments deny, and enemies never see coming.

Now the richest family in the city wants him dead.
A private army is moving in.
And a global biotech empire is pulling strings from the shadows.

They think they’re hunting him.

They’re wrong.

Jack isn’t running.
He’s choosing who dies first.

At the Morello family’s Christmas dinner, I stood beside Vincent, waiting for him to announce our engagement.
Instead, in the very next second, he walked in holding a little boy and claimed him as his son.
And the woman he said he was going to marry? Scarlett Morello. The one he had always introduced as his “sister.”
The whole room erupted in applause. I stood there frozen, like a nail hammered into the floor.
Later, in his study, he took my hand and said, “Scarlett is dying. Late-stage breast cancer. She only has six months left. After she’s gone, I’ll marry you.”
But there was no guilt in his eyes. No love, either.
Then he told me to go to his villa that afternoon, to take care of the woman who was supposedly “dying.”
I opened the photo he sent me. Scarlett was lying in a hospital bed, pale-faced, an IV in the back of her hand.
A professional tennis player who had been playing in an exhibition match three weeks ago, and who had dropped three grand at Louis Vuitton on Fifth Avenue just five days ago.
But sure. She was “dying.”
At three in the morning, I was curled up by the front door of my apartment, crying so long I lost track of time.
Then my phone lit up. A text from an unknown number:
[Elena, I’m downstairs. When we were kids, you told me that once I controlled the docks on the East Coast, you’d marry me. The docks are mine now. Does that promise still stand?]
I pulled back the curtain and there he was. Ethan Vitale, my first love, leaning against the door of a black Cadillac, lifting a hand in a lazy wave.
Three years ago, when he left New York, he was only a Capo.
Now, he was the Don of the Vitale family.
He didn’t rush me. Didn’t pressure me to come downstairs.
He came for one reason only, to let me know he was back.
I wiped away my tears and texted back:
[It still stands.]
Because I wanted to see for myself just how long that woman could keep up her act.

"Evelyn Drake, are you truly set on joining the FBI as an undercover agent?"
The senior officer Garrett stared intently at the elegantly dressed woman before him, his gaze laced with inquiry and faint doubt.
It was his occupational habit, even a special knack, to categorize everyone he met into distinct social ranks—and he was exceptionally good at it, never once misjudging anyone.
In his eyes, Evelyn Drake, with her flawless makeup and platinum-blonde hair all the way down to the roots, was far from cut out to be an agent.
He had seen countless such pampered wealthy wives throwing petty tantrums. Most would make a scene at the front desk, only to be coaxed home meekly by their rich husbands soon after.
If such a delicate lady were admitted into the FBI, he suspected even the Kevlar bulletproof vest alone would chafe her soft skin raw.
Lost in these thoughts, Garrett let out a disdainful chuckle, his tone brimming with scorn. "Are you really sure? You'd give up your lavish lifestyle to become an FBI agent?"
Sensing his contempt, Evelyn took off her expensive wristwatch and slipped it into her handbag, then nodded firmly at him. "I am absolutely certain."

On a stormy night, a horrific crash unfolded on the overpass. The victim was brought to the city forensic center.
My husband, Ethan, slipped on his gloves and expertly examined my shattered body, his voice detached. "Record this: Female, approximately twenty-five years old, suffered severe trauma before death."
His assistant sighed. "That's rough. Not a single family member showed up."
Just then, the assistant slid a misshapen silver band off my mud-streaked finger.
"Sir, this ring... isn't it identical to the one you keep in your desk drawer?"
With a sharp clatter, the scalpel slipped from Ethan's hand and hit the floor.

The Percy Family Heir's Scandal Leaks Again!

Cecilia Davis sat curled up in the master bedroom, scrolling through photos of Edward Percy and Jessica Brown.

The photos were taken secretly, but from a sharp angle.

Through a car window — the two of them, going at it hard.

Cecilia let out a cold laugh, tossed the photos into the trash, and felt a wave of deep exhaustion wash over her eyes.

"Do I really have to cut it?"

"Ma'am, this is Mr. Percy's request. Only if you cut your hair as short as Ms. Brown's can we clear up last night's rumors. Of course, you don't have to go — that is, if you never want to see your brother again."

Edward's assistant Leo spoke with a dismissive air, not a trace of respect in his eyes.

As if she, the so-called Mrs. Percy, was nothing more than a joke that nobody needed.

And honestly, that's exactly what she was.

Lydia's POV

"The patient in Bed 7 has been here three months now, right? Not a single family visit."

"Her husband just pays the bills and leaves. Doesn't even look at her. Poor thing."

I lay in the hospital bed, listening to two nurses whispering outside my door. My fingers rested weakly against the edge of the mattress.

Three months ago, I was diagnosed with late-stage cancer.

My husband, Sebastian Carter, came once. He stood in the doorway—didn't step inside—signed the papers with a blank expression, and never came back.

Sebastian was a writer. He locked himself in his study all day, leaving me to spend night after night alone in the living room. We lived under the same roof like strangers from different worlds.

I'd grown used to this hollow marriage. I didn't even bother calling him anymore.

Footsteps echoed outside.

I turned my head toward the door. Sebastian stood there in his familiar charcoal coat, his face expressionless.

"You came." I was surprised. I forced myself to sit up, my body weak and trembling.

Sebastian didn't answer. He walked straight to the bedside and set a document on the nightstand. "Sign it."

I picked it up. The words at the top read: 'Divorce Agreement.'

“Please… I’m sorry,” Adrian whispered, his voice breaking under the weight of feelings he had buried for years. “I know I shouldn’t have done it, but I love you. I swear I do.”

Jasper’s expression hardened instantly.
“Love me?” Jasper repeated. “No… you love the version of me you created in your head.”
Jasper took another step back, his jaw tightening.

“Because if you really loved me, Adrian… you would’ve known how cruel it is to confess to someone who can never give you what you want.”


Jasper Warren is the golden star of professional ice hockey—famous, admired, and believed to be untouchable. But when a scandal sparks rumors that could ruin both his reputation and career, Jasper is forced to take control of the narrative before the media destroys him.

Enter Adrian Carter, a struggling photographer who has secretly been in love with Jasper since their university days. Convinced Jasper is straight and knowing how harshly the public judges same-sex relationships in the sports world, Adrian has buried his feelings for years, never expecting to be noticed by him again.

So when Jasper suddenly offers him a confidential six-month contract to act as his “long-time best friend” in front of the public, Adrian accepts despite knowing it may only deepen the heartbreak he has tried to outrun. As staged smiles, lingering touches, and carefully crafted appearances begin blurring into something dangerously real, Adrian is left questioning whether Jasper is truly pretending… or hiding far more than anyone realizes.

"Let Aria have the Stanford recommendation. Quinn owes her."
I stared at the family group chat—the one I wasn't in—and let out a cold laugh.
In my past life, I went completely hysterical over this, only to earn my family's disgust and a miserable death.
Now, reborn and given a second chance, I looked at the room full of guests celebrating My success, and walked straight to the microphone.
"Everyone, the party is over. I'm turning down the Stanford spot."
Under my family's stunned gazes, I dumped my champagne into the trash bin.
This rotten family? I'm done with them.

Victoria discovered that I hadn't submitted any supplemental medical expense claims for two weeks.
She assumed I had finally been disciplined and had given up what she called "the exploitative nature of the lower class."
Little did she know, my backpack held the signed divorce papers and my mother's death certificate.
As I turned to leave, I was still wearing the discounted trench coat she'd casually given me three years ago when we got married.
What she didn't know was that I, a deep-sea geology genius from MIT, willingly endured three years of her humiliation and ridiculous rules, just so my mother could stay in her conglomerate's private hospital to prolong her life.
Now, my mother has died because of unpaid bills , and even her ashes are carried by me in a cheap canvas bag.
Now that my loved one is dead, there's no need for me to continue being her obstructive dog on Wall Street. The lives she owed with those approval forms, I will settle with the collapse of her entire conglomerate empire.

Note: Explicit, erotic content. Not for readers younger than 18 please.

    “Take it off Abby” he demanded looking so fierce but sexy.
      “As you wish master” I returned . I placed my hand on my white shirt and pulled it off through my head slowly.
     “Don’t rush things Abby” he would always warn.
     I took my hands slowly to my back as I tried so hard to reach for my bra hook. I got it. I thought to myself.
    I was about unhooking it but then he interfered.
    “Stop Abby, don’t move” He said to me while he sat down on his seat gazing at me.
      “Imagine me walking round where you are standing this minute. Imagine my hands on your body as you take off your bra hook” He tried creating an invincible scene in my head.
     My hands unhooked my bra unknowingly and I felt the urge to grab him immediately, but no… that wasn’t how it was done with Alex.

A gang boss ground my treasured staff into dust with one boot. “A gutter-bred bastard from the slums, and you’re hiding something this delicate? Cripple him. Let him learn who runs this turf.”
I stared at the silver-white powder on the floor. It was the last relic my brothers left me.
I once swore these hands would be used only to save people, never to kill again.
But today, even the heavens refused to allow it.
I lifted my head slowly. The elven ears I’d kept lowered in submission rose one by one in the dark, sharp as a wolf’s.
“You’re asking me who runs this turf?”
My fist snapped out and caved in the boss’s nose.
I twisted backhanded. Three elite enforcers had their bones shattered in an instant, collapsing like sacks of rotten meat.
I grabbed the boss by the throat with one hand and hoisted his two-hundred-pound body into the air, eyes cold as if I were staring at a corpse.
“Three years ago, when I laid down the rules in this district, you didn’t even know where you were playing in the mud.”
“My things are not for you to touch.”

My name is Jack Morris, a bottom-rung janitor on the docks.
Every day, people walk all over me, and I live on moldy bread.
Until one day, an old man I saved handed me a photograph. "This is my granddaughter. She's being held at the Black Swan Casino."
That used to be my place. Ten years ago.
Her father was a brother who died in my place.
I was once the king of the underground.
And now, at the banquet celebrating the tenth anniversary of my death, they're treating that old man's granddaughter like a toy.
If my disappearance only made those animals more brazen...
Then they can finish that drink and celebrate their own deaths next.

The global freeze descended, and the apocalypse arrived right on cue. I seized all the critical supplies and evacuated first, leaving "the perfect base" behind for the two traitors who backstabbed me. They thought it was heaven, but little did they know that the entire fortress was a precision trap constructed of deception, scarcity, and despair. As the outdoor temperature plummeted to minus eighty degrees, I sat by the window, roasting venison and watching them through high-definition infrared, coldly observing as they lost their humanity in the desperate fight for a single bowl of sawdust.

I spent three years acting as a servant for the Alpha who secretly married me, only to find out he was marrying his mistress because she was "dying."

“This marriage is her last wish, and I am fulfilling it,” Ace told me coldly.
“And me? What do I become?” I asked, my heart shattering.
“You remain my hidden wife. When she is gone, we will go back to normal.”

Normal? Being humiliated, abused by his sister, and watching him sleep in another woman's bed?

The final straw was the alliance party. His mistress intentionally tripped, and his sister slapped me so hard I fell onto shattered glass. The sharp shards pierced my flesh, but Ace just stood there and told me to get out.

He didn't know I had just received my medical results. I was pregnant. With triplets.

That night, while he was playing the devoted lover in the hospital, I packed my bags. I left the signed divorce papers on our bed, threw our only framed photo into the trash, and vanished into the human world.

When Ace finally returned to the empty mansion, the silence suffocated him. He found the divorce papers. He smelled the fading scent of my jasmine perfume. And then, his beta brought him the medical records.

“Congratulations Alpha, your Luna was pregnant before she left.”

Ace dropped to his knees, a guttural roar tearing from his throat. He turned the world upside down to find me, only to discover I was living in the castle of Alpha Klaus—his deadliest enemy. And Klaus had just publicly claimed me as his own.

They were never supposed to be family. And they were never supposed to fall in love.

Stephen has it all, he was the football captain, campus god, and dangerously charming. Hayden? He's the rival to his stepbrother, one who stole his girlfriend out of pure spite.

After an explosive fight lands them both in detention, one impulsive kiss sets off a chain reaction of forbidden desire, brutal self-discovery, and secrets too dangerous to share.

Stephen is bisexual. Hayden is homophobic, or so he claims. But when their mom forces them to share a dorm, the hate turns into heat, and the rivalry into something far more complicated.

They can’t stand each other.
They can’t escape each other.
And the worst part? They don’t want to.

Sneaky kisses, heated tension and jerking off to each other when the other can't hear, they end up in a maze of forbidden desires.

But in a world where football is king and image is everything, loving each other might be the most dangerous play of all.

Do you have someone couldn’t forget in high school?
The boy who keeps disturbing you to attract your attention? You hate him a lot.
But several years later, you meet him again, will everything is the same as before or will the hate become love between your two?


When Hailey goes back home to the small town where she grew up for a vacation, she is expecting everything that a reunion could bring.

Meeting her parents again after a long time, had a happy time with her family, dealing with relatives she didn't like.

However, she wasn't expecting to meet Boris Stern again, the guy who had bullied her in high school.

And she definitely wasn't expecting a rollercoaster romance to begin.