10000 Book(s) Related to the men who come to my bed

Having an accident after catching her lover cheating and waking up in a strange place filled with robots. Alexa Ivvona never expected to become a hero in a war in the robot world, and fall in love with a robot troop commander. However, can Alexa return to her world or is she trapped there with all the secrets of why Alexa is in the robot world?

“Fifty million dollars. Who dares to raise the bid?” The crippled man’s voice boomed through the auction hall, silencing everyone.

I froze on the stage, the blinding lights burning my skin. I was Item 344, a slave, a toy to be sold to the highest bidder. My father had sold me, and now, I was being fought over like a piece of meat.

“Sold!” The auctioneer screamed, trembling with excitement.

I looked at my buyer. He sat in a wheelchair, his legs covered by a blanket, his face handsome but cold as ice. A cripple? I scoffed inwardly. I was a hybrid—half vampire, half werewolf. Even without an inner wolf, I had powers. I could control minds. I would wipe his memory, steal his money, and escape before the night was over.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I hissed as his guards approached me. I pulled out a hidden knife, ready to slit throats. But a sudden, overpowering dizziness hit me. My body went weak, my vision blurred.

When I woke up, I was in a luxurious car, bound by cuffs. The cripple was sitting next to me, watching me with predator eyes.

“Who are you?” I asked, my voice trembling.
“Your new master,” he replied calmly.
“You wish.” I muttered.

In a flash, his hand wrapped around my throat. He moved faster than any human, faster than any cripple should be able to. His grip was steel.

“You seem to forget that I own you now,” he whispered dangerously, his face inches from mine. “Act as my mate for the Alpha selection, and I let you live. Refuse, and I’ll kill you myself.”

I tried to slip into his mind, to control him, to make him let me go. I pushed against his mental barriers, expecting them to crumble like everyone else’s.
But I hit a wall.
Shock paralyzed me. I couldn't read him.

He smirked, as if he knew exactly what I was trying to do. “We’re home, Jaslyn. Welcome to hell.”

"You think I'm just a human, don't you?"

I laughed, unaware of the danger lurking beside me.

"I'm more than what you see," he whispered, his eyes gleaming in the dark.

I'm Evelyn, and I never believed in monsters. But when I met Bryson Wilder, the mysterious stranger with piercing eyes, I stumbled into a world of forbidden love.

"You're mine now," he growled, his voice sending shivers down my spine.

As an alpha werewolf, Bryson's world is hidden from humans, but our connection is undeniable. Yet, I'm drawn to more than just him – his beta, Axel, ignite a passion that threatens to consume us all.

"You'll never be just mine," Bryson whispers, his eyes burning with possession and desire.

As we navigate the secrets of our past and the dangers that surround us, our forbidden love becomes the only truth that matters. But will our bond be enough to overcome the shadows of his world, or will it be the very thing that tears us apart?"

Arianna Deeds world is turned upside down when she goes the angel academy. In a world with vampire, werwolves, and fallen angels are the least of her concerns, when demons try to take over earth. A thousand year treaty broken and a vampire virus running wild. Angels are becoming extinct. She must learn her powers or die. Will Arianna discover what's happening to the angel's or will she be next?

The night before our mating ceremony, my Alpha boyfriend was tangled up with my brother's fiancée.

He was my brother's ride-or-die companion, and the son-in-law our pack cherished most.

My brother was devastated by this betrayal and charged toward the border that very day, never to return.

Yet everyone kept urging me to forgive them.

His comrade pleaded: "Kael knows he messed up. For the sake of all these years of brotherhood, just give him another chance."

The Elder advised: "I know you're angry, but he's now our pack's Alpha. Making things too bitter won't be good for your future either. Elara, let it go."

Even the usually fair Council Chief was persuading me: "Elara, he's a war hero. It's not easy for a pack to cultivate an Alpha... some things... require considering the bigger picture."

I stopped arguing and simply knelt before my brother's grave for an entire night.

Then I submitted my severance application and moved to new territory with my parents, who had gone white-haired overnight.

Before leaving, Kael blocked my path with reddened eyes: "Elara, do you hate me this much? Won't you even give me a chance to atone?"

I looked at him calmly: "Your sin, like my brother's life, can never be repaid."

After that day, he continued rising through the pack ranks, earning honors, as if nothing had ever happened.

While our family stayed away for three whole years.

I thought I'd never have any connection with Kael again in this lifetime.

Until a recall order brought him back before me once more.

"Elara, long time no see."

My locker door swings open and the hate mail tumbles out like confetti from hell. Murderer's daughter. Your dad killed kids. Die like them.
Three weeks since the news broke, and they just keep coming.
I'm on my hands and knees, frantically shoving the notes into my backpack while the hallway erupts in laughter. Sarah steps over me like I'm roadkill.
The first time I drowned, I thought it was an accident. The second time, I thought I was losing my mind. But by the third time—watching Blake's lifeless body sink next to mine in that chlorine-burning water—I finally got it. Time isn't moving forward. It's stuck, like a broken record, spinning back to the day Blake could still dive like an Olympic champion, before the accident stole everything from him.
This time, I won't let him jump in after me.
I have to save Blake from me. But I'm drowning in more than just pool water, and I don't know how to surface. I don't know how to stop this endless loop of death and guilt and love that's killing us both, over and over again.
How do you break a curse when you're the one who cast it?

I was once the most exquisite rose in New York's underworld.
Leander Castello's wife. The mafia godfather's treasured queen. The woman everyone envied.
I thought he would be my salvation, my forever.
Until he snapped me in half with his own hands and threw me into the filthiest pit like trash.
He said he needed to teach me what betrayal costs.
So I was handed over to the Mexican cartel boss, Carlos.
Six months later, when he kicked down that iron door, I was on my knees in a pool of blood, crawling toward his feet like a beaten dog.
I thought he was just another client.
I opened my mouth, revealing my shattered teeth, forcing sounds like grinding metal through vocal cords destroyed by industrial acid.
I mechanically unbuttoned my shirt, displaying the crisscrossing cigarette burns and brands covering my skin.
I knocked my forehead against his shoe, silently begging him not to use the hose on me today.
He stared at my mutilated right leg, at my vacant eyes, and finally understood—
That rose had rotted away on the cartel's operating table, along with our child.
What's left now is just a living corpse.

A month before my boyfriend Samuel and I were supposed to get married, he asked me to let another woman wear my wedding dress and move into my house.

It all started three months ago when his "old friend" Dahlia returned from overseas, supposedly with less than a year to live. A week ago, Samuel told me that Dahlia's dying wish was to become a bride before she passed away, and he was the chosen groom.

I kept saying no. But he brought it up every single day, insisting he had to help Dahlia because she had helped him when his company was in crisis three years ago, and he needed to fulfill her wish.

I was furious.

But in the end, I gave up the house and left him.

"You drive me crazy, Lilith. Just one night... I’ll give you whatever you want. Please let me taste you," my billionaire CEO whimpered, pinning me against the wall, his hot breath brushing my ear.

He is obsessed with my new face, my body, and my ruthless attitude. He is willing to abandon everything just to get into my bed.

If only he knew that the flawless skin he’s kissing right now used to be covered in the acid his mistress poured on me.
If only he knew that I am his dead, naive wife—the one he threw into an ice cellar to die along with our unborn child, just to steal my family's inheritance.

"Anything I want?" I trace his jawline, smiling sweetly as my nail digs into his skin. "Then give me your empire, William. And your life."

I rose from the ashes with a new face and a hidden will. He wants to ruin my lipstick, but I came back to ruin his life.

My fiancé, Liam Miller, slapped me more than a dozen times in front of everyone over his childhood sweetheart.
Then he shoved me down a spiral staircase.
Both my legs were shattered. My skull cracked open. I spent an entire month in the ICU.
He never came to see me.
Not once.
He was too busy staying by Sophia’s side, planning her birthday party, and getting down on one knee in front of everyone to propose to her.
As for me, I couldn’t even get through the doors of his headquarters anymore. My access had been revoked. My position had been taken. Every trace of my place in his world had been erased.
Nine years.
From nineteen to twenty-eight, I gave him the best years of my life.
In the end, I had given them to the wrong man.
On the day I was discharged, I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. I didn’t cling to him and beg for answers.
I simply called my mother.
“Mom,” I said calmly, “that overseas mafia empire you wanted me to inherit? I’m ready to take it.”
There was a brief silence on the other end.
Then my mother said, “I’ve waited ten years for this day.”
The night before my flight, Liam’s messages flooded my phone.
“Emma, I was wrong. Don’t go.”
What do you think?
Would I ever look back?

Ice slammed through my veins.
My throat locked up, crushed by an invisible fist. My body convulsed violently, mouth gaping open and shut, but no air came.
Through blurring vision, I saw my polished stepbrother Damien standing there, watching his watch—counting down the seconds I had left.
And Sophie—that scholarship kid who used to sob over dead ants—stood holding the empty syringe, her smile twisted and ugly. "Don't worry, Charlotte. I'll take real good care of your Ivy spot and your boyfriend."
The darkness swallowed me whole.

47 deaths.
48 iterations.
He sold his brother a death trap and called it a farm.
When the dead rose, the experiment began—and the only way out was through.

Kael ruined my life, drained my divine blood, and framed me for murder in my past life. Given a second chance, I reject his fake tenderness and tear down every lie he built. The almighty Dark Duke who once played with my life now craves only my mercy. He abandons his army, destroys his status, and begs for my punishment. I end his tyranny, chain him with my golden blood, and turn my worst tormentor into my most obedient hound.

Five years ago, on our wedding day, my fiancée Vivian was in the bridal suite fucking my best man.
Five years later, I returned to New York with my wife—the most powerful Mafia matriarch in Naples. At Atelier Milano, Brandon, the same "best man" who betrayed me, fawned over my custom-tailored suit, groveling to the staff about how desperately he wanted to meet the legendary Mr. Salvatore.
He had no idea...
The man he'd once written off as a pathetic loser was the very person he was now begging to impress.

Married for years, I caught my husband in bed with another woman.
He had nothing at all once; it was only after being with me that he became the CEO of a company and made his fortune.
I asked for a divorce, and he flew into a rage and locked me in a dog cage.
But what he never saw coming was that I had long been ready to take my revenge.

The adoptive brother I'd been secretly in love with for a decade took my virginity on the night of my twentieth birthday, fueled by alcohol.

I thought I had finally found love.

Until I stood outside his half-open apartment door and heard his teammates mocking me.

"Damn, Dax, you actually slept with Elara? That boring good girl?"

My hand froze mid-air above the doorknob.

Dax's tone was dripping with contempt. "Look closely at her face. It's exactly like Cassandra's, isn't it?"

"It's no big deal. She revolves around me every single day. All it took was crooking a finger."

"With Cassandra gone, she's the perfect stand-in to kill time."

The room instantly erupted into a fit of unbridled, mocking laughter.

I dug my nails fiercely into my palms, opened my phone, and found the email I had deliberately ignored for a month.

[Florence Academy of Fine Arts — Exchange Program Confirmation]

"They said I was just a piece of trash, only fit to be a substitute bride for the lunatic Abyssal Dragon Duke." I smirked, twisting the bone bracelet that sealed my venomous power. My fake sister wept pitifully, "Visenya, at worst, I'll bear the Duke's wrath myself." Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea. When the bloodthirsty Duke finally cornered me, he didn't tear me apart. Instead, he kissed my fingertips and chuckled. "So, my little bride, shall we slaughter the Emperor and take the throne for fun?" "Deal," I smiled. "But if you drag me down, I'll kill you too."

I was born able to see threads tying certain people to one another. A thin red thread stretched right above Mom and Dad’s heads.
I hurried over to Mom at once. “Mom, why is there a red thread connecting you and Dad?”
Mom laughed when she heard me, booping my nose fondly.
“That’s proof that Daddy loves me.”
Later, at our family gathering, Aunt Celia brought me a present just like she always did.
“Luna? Come see what Auntie brought you.”
I trotted over and found a cloth doll.
Just then, Dad walked up, knelt down beside me, and stroked my head.
“Luna, what do you say?”
I glanced up at Dad, then turned to look at Aunt Celia.
Little me was filled with huge confusion.
“It’s weird. Why is there such a thick red thread connecting Dad and Celia?”

Landon Rhodes and I grew up together, both dreaming of becoming top chefs. But I knew he was the one with a palate kissed by God.

So when Rowan Stone, this street-rat punk, got her claws into him, I took the drinks, the smoke, the slaps for him. When he wanted to skip the National Young Chefs Competition to stay with her drunk ass, I dragged him back to the culinary lab.

He won the championship, got recruited by a three-star Michelin restaurant, graduated and made millions. I became the most invisible prep cook in his kitchen.

Until Rowan wrapped her car around a pole during one of her episodes, and he lured me into a basement.

"This is all your fault! If you'd minded your own damn business, she'd still be alive!"

His foot came down on my right hand. Bones cracking. My fingers ground to pulp.

All those 5 AM trips to the fish market for him. All those nights watching stock simmer for forty-eight hours straight. All the praise he soaked up at final practicals. My sacrifices, and all I got in return was his hatred.

"These worthless hands that can only cut vegetables deserve to rot in the ground with her."

The pain swallowed me whole.

When I wake up again, I'm back to that afternoon when he said he was going to the bar to find her.

This time, I won't stop him.

At seven years old, he pulled me from the rapids—and for the eleven years that followed, I loved this man I called "Uncle."

Then Sophia appeared. She accused me of pushing her down the stairs, and Michael didn't spare me so much as a glance before throwing me out into the storm. I knocked until my hands were raw and bleeding. He never opened the door.

Three years later, he showed up at my workplace, demanding I "come home" with him. His pregnant girlfriend flaunted a twelve-week ultrasound, cooing about how the baby already "looked just like him"—then staged yet another fall, told yet another lie, let out yet another shriek, casting me once more as the heartless monster.

But this time, I won't beg.

This time, I know secrets they don't.

Because that miscarriage three years ago? That baby? That ultrasound?

None of it was real.

The question is—how much has Michael already lost, and can he see the truth before the one person who ever truly loved him is gone for good?

I'm a blind girl, and I've always been close with the old lady living next door.
One day, I caught the smell of blood coming from her apartment.
Worried something had happened to her, I pushed her door open—and instantly realized my mistake.
I had walked right into a murder scene.
The killer was still there.
I had to take a chance.
Betting that my pale, sightless eyes could fool those blood-crazed ones.
I stepped into the blood-soaked room, smiled toward where the body lay, and called out,
"Ma'am, the store has oranges on sale—I brought some over for you..."

I chased after my first love, Joe, for years and finally worked up the courage to confess—only to overhear him plotting to get me drunk as a plaything.
Just when I was in utter despair, his mafia brother, David, showed up and saved me from deep sorrow. He treated me gently like I was made of glass, gifted me a private estate, got down on one knee and proposed, saying he'd had a crush on me for years.
I thought I'd finally escaped hell and found my one true love—until his “lover” Ann came back with a boy who looked exactly like him and stole every bit of his attention.
David swore Ann was just my stand-in, but he kept leaving me for her again and again, even throwing himself in front of bullets for her in a shootout, saying, “For you, I can risk my life.”

To everyone in town, I was just a sixty-five-year-old retired man.
I lived in an old house, drove an old car, and showed up at the same diner every night to eat the cheapest meal on the menu in my usual corner.

Then one night, the waitress who always refilled my coffee sat across from me after closing, eyes red, and told me her boyfriend had disappeared.
People were watching her, pressuring her to hand over a “ledger” she had never even seen.

I wanted no part of it.
I had left that kind of life behind a long time ago, and I had sworn never to use my hands for anyone again.

But the next day, she didn’t show up for work.
Her phone was dead. She was gone.

I went into their territory alone.
They thought they were dealing with nothing more than a nosy old man.
By the time I started moving, they realized they had picked the wrong target.

On a rainy evening, Ophelia Taylor caught her husband Benjamin White cheating, shattering their marriage and her happy illusions completely. Plunged into despair, she found solace in Benjamin’s younger brother, William. Gentle and steady, William silently guarded her—bringing warm milk on sleepless nights, defending her from Benjamin’s coldness—slowly melting her broken heart. Unknowingly, both fell for each other, a forbidden affection blooming amid betrayal. Torn between her unfaithful husband and her off-limits brother-in-law, Ophelia stood at an emotional crossroads. Her reason screamed it was wrong, but her heart clung to William’s warmth. This tangled struggle of love and guilt had just begun.

I died in a rainy day. For twenty-eight years, I clung desperately to my adoptive family, craving nothing but warmth and a home. Yet all my devotion was nothing but a joke.
Everyone in the household loathed me, quick to side with my adoptive sister Isabelle over every lie she spun. I gave my whole heart to my fiancé Damien Sterling, believing he would be my salvation. But when the truth surfaced, he looked at me like I was filth beneath his shoes, his face twisted with contempt.
“You were never more than a distraction,” he snarled. “Isabelle is the only one I love. Can’t you see how tainted you are?”
Those words shattered me more than any injury. Abandoned by everyone I cared about, I had nowhere left to turn before they arranged my death.
But somehow, I’m twenty-two again—returned to that fateful year before all my nightmares unfolded.This time, I’ll burn down everyone who destroyed me.

"You have two months to live." The doctor's death sentence was still ringing in my ears when I found the receipt in his pocket.

[Four Seasons Hotel. Romance Suite. Check-in: 3:00 PM.]

3:00 PM. The exact moment I was begging the doctor for painkillers, Alexander was in a hotel bed with another woman.

I looked at him, sleeping soundly beside me. I had loved this man for five years, sold everything to help him succeed. Now, in the final countdown of my life, he gave me the most fatal blow.

"I'm exhausted from meetings," he had lied, smelling of Santal 33 and another woman's sex.

I clenched the receipt until my nails dug into my flesh. I wouldn't tell him about the cancer.

I would use whatever time I had left to make him regret ever being born.

During the senior executive meeting, an intern slapped a 15-yuan McDonald's receipt right in my face.
"Vice President Xu has been embezzling company funds for personal meals! A parasite like her, who’s been fleecing the company, must be fired!"
My boyfriend of eight years looked at me with a feigned, agonized expression. "This incident has caused an abysmally bad impact. You will be suspended pending an internal investigation."
I stared at his hand wrapped around the intern's waist, then calmly removed my employee ID badge.
I turned to my assistant and ordered, "Freeze the five million yuan in the company's account. That's just the pocket money I casually deposited there last week."

"You never wanted me," Eva's voice trembled, but her gaze was steady as she glared at Maxmillan. "You were too blinded by your love for Sara to see the truth."
Maximilian clenched his fists, his jaw tight. "You think I don't regret it? Every moment, Eva. Every moment I spent hurting you.."
"Hurting me?" she cut him off, her eyes filled with anger. "You ruined me, Max. You let my sister and step mother destroy me, and when I needed you most, you turned your back on me, you made me go through hell."
His chest tightened. "I was wrong. I know that now, but..."
"But it's too late," she snapped. "I'm not the helpless girl you left behind. I've come back for what's mine."
Max's voice softened, almost pleading. "And what if I'm part of what's yours?"
Eva's lips curled into a bitter smile. "Maybe. Or maybe I'll destroy you the way you destroyed me."


Forced into a loveless marriage to save her family's business, Eva endures cruelty from her husband, Maximilian, who believes she manipulated his grandfather into choosing her as his bride. Blinded by his love for her sister, Maximilian made Eva go through hell.
Eva is framed for a tragedy and sent to prison, she's rescued by a powerful and influencial figure who she never knew existed. Six years later, Eva returns. No longer the broken and helpless woman she once was, She is now a force to be reckoned with. She is back to seek revenge on all those who had made her life hell. Now, Maximilian regrets his mistakes and isn't ready to let her go. Will Eva choose love or will revenge be the only thing that can heal her broken heart?

WARNING!! MATURED CONTENT!!

The heart craves for whatever it wants, Good or bad—

Tiffany had a long time secret Crush on her uncle, who looked more manly and handsome than all the guys she met.

She vows to make him her man, hook or crook. Opportunity presents itself, as her parents suddenly had an urgent business outside the country, and had to travel, leaving her in her uncle's house, for a month.

Things get intense, as her uncle turns out to enjoy her advances towards him, but can't let things go further, because of their relationship.

Will Tiffany be able to finally conquer him or will their relationship be a barrier??

And other Erotica collections.

“You don’t love me, do you?” Luke whispered, pinning my wrists above my head.

His body pressed mine into the bed, hot, heavy, inescapable. His mouth brushed my ear, gentle enough to feel like a kiss, cruel enough to feel like punishment.

“It’s okay,” he murmured.“Your body is mine.”

I left Luke Morrison unconscious in an ICU eight years ago and rebuilt myself in London—elite auctioneer, an ocean between me and the past.

Then my brother's condition crashed. I'm back in Pennsylvania, standing behind an auction podium at his company's charity gala.

A little boy runs through the crowd and wraps his arms around me: "Mama, you came back."

"Daddy shows me pictures every day," Asher says.

Every. Single. Day. How long has this been going on?

Luke's watching with ice-cold eyes. The bullied boy I left behind? Gone. Replaced by a tech billionaire who makes predators look soft.

"Get in," he says. Not a request.

Then he takes me back to his home.

His penthouse is frozen in time—the art I chose, the books I organized. Our past preserved like he's been waiting.

"You owe me eight years, Mia," he says, showing me the scar. "The girl who watched them destroy me and did nothing. This time, you don't run."

When he fucks me, it's worship and punishment. Making me pay for every day I was gone.

"I've waited eight years for this. Every breath you take belongs to me."

He's not just possessive. He's broken. And Asher is the perfect weapon to keep me trapped.

【This story contains explicit adult (R18) content and BDSM elements. It is strictly for mature readers.】
——
After my family went bankrupt, I was handed over to the mob boss Nathaniel to be his lover. He chained my neck and made me kneel naked by the bed.
"Be a good little canary for me."
Little did I know, my ex-boyfriend was Nathaniel's niece's fiancé, and his nephew had a habit of stealing Nathaniel's favorite women. 
I was forced into affairs with several men until Nathaniel found out. He yanked my hair and thrust into me forcefully. "Tell me, who do you belong to?"
A gunshot rang out, glass shattered, and several men burst into the room. "Nathaniel, you can't keep her all to yourself!"
In this dangerous game of cat and mouse, I became stronger. This time, I would make them kneel at my feet, one by one.
——
Nathaniel's fingers were already coated in slickness as they pumped in and out. Victoria writhed in discomfort. "Not enough... need something... bigger..."
A wicked gleam flashed in Nathaniel's eyes as he reached behind his back and pulled out a small handgun, pressing it against her wet entrance, slowly pushing it in.
"Ah! Mr. Cross, it hurts, I'm gonna break..."

Meet Kamila Wilsons, a woman who left her wealthy family and expensive lifestyle, hid her identity just to marry the one man that she loves. A
man whom her family had warned her not to chase if she doesn’t want to be heartbroken. Turning a deaf ear towards her family, Kamila married with Arnoldo Morrison.

Arnoldo was against the marriage due to the fact that he never had feelings for Kamila. However, the both of them got together because of the Matriarch of the Morrison family, Grandma Megan.

A marriage was supposed to be a sweet journey for a woman who had just been accepted by her in laws but Kamila’s was the opposite. Being treated as a servant wasn't one of the roles of a married woman. Her in laws all treated her like dirt. Her husband continuously cheated on her with his lover, Iraida Evans whom his grandmother had always looked down on.

After witnessing her husband having sexual intercourse with his lover in their matrimonial bed, Kamila couldn't take the torture anymore. She has reached her limit of endurance. She couldn't let her heart to be continuously played with as if it was some toy.

Kamila reached out for the divorce papers, signed her name and left the Morrison mansion with a promise that she would come back and make them loose everything they had ever worked hard for love? She has three elder brothers who dote on her.

Kamila went back to her family and started her plot against her ex in laws until she met Ethan, her childhood friend whom she had bumped into years ago

In the third year of my marriage to Damian Spencer, I accidentally scratched his first love.
For that insignificant little scratch, on the evening of my birthday, he personally brought his bodyguards and cornered me in a damp, cold alley.
Without flinching, he had them crush my right hand—the one that held my bow—bone by bone.
He looked down at me coldly as I slumped in the mud, his voice devoid of any warmth: "Just be a good Mrs. Spencer. You don't need this anymore."
Yet later, this same man caged me in his arms like someone possessed, begging again and again—pleading with me not to forget what we'd been.
But all that met him was my empty gaze—hollow, confused, as if he were no one to me.

In a modern city of flights, glass hotels, and surveillance footage, Nora—an artist still recovering from surgery—watches her marriage rot behind polished excuses. As she traces her husband’s affair through airport selfies, joint-account charges, voice recordings, and a staged fall on the stairs, humiliation hardens into precision. Cold, sharp, and deeply satisfying, this is a divorce reckoning lit by rain, evidence files, airport confrontations, and the moment a woman stops begging to be chosen.

The day I get diagnosed with stage four lung cancer, I can finally stop selling plasma.

For five years, I thought I was paying for the fire that killed my parents and son, left my brother disabled. Selling plasma, joining drug trials, doing the worst jobs imaginable, all to pay back a debt that wasn't even real.

The doctor says I have a few weeks left. I clutch the diagnosis report and head home to tell them.

The moment I push open the door, I see my parents in the kitchen, the ones who supposedly died in the fire. My brother, who was supposed to be in a wheelchair, stands there raising a glass, laughing with my husband.

My brother shrugs like it's nothing. "The broken leg was fake the whole time. You were the only one hurt in the fire. We just wanted to teach you a lesson, make you appreciate things."

"We were going to tell you eventually." My husband pats my shoulder. "Go apologize to Vanessa. Stop giving her a hard time."

"All the money you gave us went to Vanessa," Dad says. "That's what you get for throwing your bio-daughter status in her face."

I touch the diagnosis in my pocket. Everything was a lie. The only truth is that I'm dying.

Six years of marriage, and I thought that if I tried hard enough, she would see me someday.
Yet she never gave me a hug, never called our son "sweetheart" once, and couldn't even stand him calling her "Mom."
She said I was calculating, that I was shameless.
I laughed. So, in her eyes, my love was a scam from the very beginning.
So, I signed the divorce papers and left town with our son.
I thought it was all over.
But then she said,
"I'm not leaving you."

Three years ago, I took a bullet for Damon Kingsley. It came within half an inch of my heart.

He looked me in the eyes, his own red, and swore he'd love me for the rest of his life. So I married into this century-old Italian-American Mafia dynasty.

But on our wedding night, the moment he touched me, he convulsed, coughed up blood, and collapsed.

The second time, an old condition flared up and kept him flat on his back for a month.

The third time, he nearly bled out.

Every time after that, the same thing.

The whole family called me a curse. Marked. Bad luck. The kind of woman who brings death to whoever gets close.

The Godmother gave me an ultimatum: get pregnant within a month, or sign the divorce papers and be shipped off to Chicago to marry the devil himself.

I was carrying a fertility tonic to his study, ready to beg him one more time, when I heard voices through the door.

"Mr. Kingsley, please, you gotta stop. Every time you don't wanna go near her, you shoot yourself up with that stuff. You're gonna kill yourself."

Damon was quiet for a long moment. Then, calm and flat: "Aurora is the only woman I love. I'd take the pain any day over touching her."

All this time, while the whole family called me a curse, the one who actually put it on me was the man I almost died for.

Damon Kingsley. After today, we're done. In this life or the next, don't ever cross my path again.

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!

Rogue！Murder！Lunatic！
He's trying to kill our Alpha and Luna！They said.
Cursed by the moon goddess, I say!
Until I met my mate...

Mate! Lucas cackled, high and insane in his mind. Our mate!!
Daphne shrieked as the wolf leaped at her and tackled her to the ground. She stared up at the wolf looming over her, frozen in terror.
She hissed at the pain in her neck as he removed its paw from her throat and stepped back just a bit.
He growled, low and almost tender, “Mate.”
Oh goddess, he was looking for his mate? He was going to kill her.
“P-Please don’t k-kill me…” She pleaded, “P-Please, I…”
The wolf flinched and trembled, “No. No. I wouldn’t-- Never-- I’m sorry…”
Daphne wasn’t sure what to make of his sudden change in tone and demeanor. He took half a step back.
“Are you hurt? Lemme see your wounds” Daphne asked worriedly.
“Aren’t you… Aren’t you afraid of me?”
She shrugged, “Not so long as your paws stay off my neck.”
His face heated and his stomach clenched nervously. Even Lucas seemed anxious about it.
“I’m sorry. I-I’m really sorry. I-I thought you were an enemy. I didn’t-- I

At my engagement party, a sex video of my fiancé and his secretary was exposed to the public, making me the laughingstock of the entire city. Seeking revenge, I got drunk and spent the night with my ex-boyfriend from years ago—William Brown, now the "King" of the legal world, whom I had dumped in our youth. I even humiliated him with money afterward.

I thought it was just a ridiculous mistake, but as my father's condition deteriorated and the battle for the family fortune intensified, he turned out to be my only lifeline. He closed in on me step by step, setting traps at every turn, leaving me to wonder: should I submit to him, or become his enemy?

However, I gradually discovered that his motives for getting close to me seemed far more complicated than a simple transaction...

Warning: This story contains BDSM steamy scenes, mature language, and forbidden romance.
Recommended for readers who enjoy emotionally intense and sexually charged love stories with depth.
…….
My father is a powerful politician.
His enemies killed my mother.
Now they want me.
To keep me alive, he hires the most expensive security company in the city. Three men show up at my door and drag me to a secret beach house.

Dante, Nikolai and Enzo

My bodyguards.
My captors.

I’m a medical student. I’m supposed to study for exams, not stitch up gunshot wounds and listen to bloody stories that make my thighs press together.

I should hate them.I should be begging to go home and not aching for the men that might destroy me.

Instead, I let them pin me to the wall, big bodies caging me in, heat rolling off their skin as rough hands toy with the buttons of my shirt.

One of them leans down and growls in my ear,
“We’ve wanted to do this since the first day we laid eyes on you kitten”

When my son was hospitalized with a high fever, Henry Harding was with his ex-lover—a final betrayal that shattered what little remained of our marriage.
The pain of my unwed pregnancy is a wound I can never speak of, as the child's father vanished without a trace. Just as I was about to take my own life, Henry swooped in, offering me a home and vowing to treat my fatherless child as his own.
I've always been grateful to him for saving me that day, which is why I've endured the humiliation of this lopsided marriage for so long.
But everything changed when his former flame, Isabella Scott, returned.
Now, I'm ready to sign the divorce papers, but Henry demands ten million dollars as the price of my freedom—a sum I could never hope to scrape together.
I looked him in the eye and said coldly, "Ten million dollars to buy your heart."
Henry, the most powerful heir on Wall Street, is a former heart patient. He'll never suspect that his so-called shameful ex-wife orchestrated the heart beating in his chest.

“You’re just a housewife with no job—you’d never dare divorce Dad!”
Her own son—— Sean Stuart said it.
And for seven years, Seraphine Lavien believed staying silent was love.

Once a rising star in fashion, she gave up her career to marry into wealth—to care for a demanding husband and their fragile son.
But her sacrifice earned only contempt:
Her designs stolen… and he said nothing.
Her pain ignored… while he praised another woman’s work.
Her name mocked as “the wife who doesn’t belong”… and still, he stayed silent.

Charles Stuart's silence broke her.

So she walked away—and rebuilt herself from ash to icon.

Now, as an award-winning designer commanding runways from Paris to New York,

she’s untouchable.

Until the man who let her burn alone shows up at her show, desperate:

“Please come back…”