105 Book(s) Related to grim reaper hand tattoo

The floodwaters rushed into the basement, trapping my sister Isabella and me in the surging currents.

My brother, a former Navy SEAL, smashed through the window. Without a second of hesitation, he secured the rescue rope around Isabella.

"You're a good swimmer, figure your own way up! Isabella can't take the cold, I have to get her out first!"

He abandoned me and turned to hoist the rope, accidentally kicking away the only wooden crate keeping me afloat.

Once Isabella was pulled up, she reached down and slid the outer latch, deadlocking the only vent grate.

The floodwaters instantly swallowed me whole. Mud and debris violently surged into my mouth and nose. I was drowned alive.

Amber was raped by her uncle.

She was an orphan. Her parents died in a road accident.

She was later taken to her grandmother. One day she went to a party.

There she met a rich pervert.

He tried to sexually abuse her there.

Later he forced her to marry him and she had to, due to certain family conditions.

There too rape torturers didn't end for amber.

They both used to hate each other.

Will they ever fall in love or this will end up only being a rape story.....

Let's see.....

"It's not compensating. It's lagging," I said, my grease-stained hands resting on my hips as I corrected the most arrogant, untouchable F1 racer on my very first day.
Silence fell over the elite mechanical training facility. Every perfectly polished student turned to stare at me—the charity case from the slums. But Carlos Santiago didn't just stare. His sharp, assessing gaze landed on me like a physical weight. "And who are you to correct me?" he demanded, stepping closer until the scent of expensive cologne and burning rubber surrounded me.

I didn't back down. I knew engines better than I knew people. "I wasn't correcting you. I was fixing the problem," I shot back. He was perfect—ash brown hair, thick lashes, and a jawline that belonged on a billboard. But he was also completely wrong about the calibration. I reached past him, my knuckles brushing his pristine racing suit, and adjusted the valve. The engine instantly purred to life. Flawless.

His eyes darkened. He hated losing control. He stepped into my space, trapping me against the workstation. "You've got good instincts," he murmured, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "But instincts don't win races." Before I could push him away, someone bumped into him from behind. He stumbled forward, and suddenly, his lips crashed hard against mine. My mind went completely blank. It was an accident. It had to be. But when he pulled back, his eyes weren't steady, and his breathing was ragged. "Stay out of my way," he warned.

But the way he looked at my lips? It didn't feel like a warning at all. It felt like a promise.

My father said an honest man can't run a farm. My brother called me nothing but a burden. My ex-girlfriend dropped her engagement ring into a glass of champagne and handed it back to me. They all thought I was worthless. None of them knew I'd been reborn, and had stockpiled five years' worth of supplies in the cold storage. When the blizzard hit, the walkie-talkie crackled to life. I heard their cries and the unspoken thoughts swirling inside their heads. Really? You're still trying to scheme against me right now?

Sandra Williams has never been one to walk on the wild side, at least not until she meets Jake Smith, a cocky and sexy wrestler at her father's gym.

“You've got to be kidding me...”
Rolling his eyes he scoffed “just say yes. I know you need the money.”
He wasn't wrong there, but I had a feeling I was going to regret this.


Deidra wanted to have a normal college experience just like everyone else, but the last thing she had anticipated was her fourth grade bully to come running back into her life asking her for help. Inheritance clauses, last-minute wills, and a free ticket for her undergrad years to be paid in full?
What more was there to say, except that Wes wasn’t someone easy to work with.
He was more likely going to be more trouble than the money is worth.

It Had To Be You is created by Scarlett Rossi, an eGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

Hot forbidden novellas so filthy that they'll leave you soaked and ashamed.
A stepdaughter bent over for her strict stepfather.
A stepsister ruined by her stepbrother in a snow-ending world.
A devout daughter corrupted on holy ground by her priest.
Best friends' innocent little sister ruined by the one man she shouldn't have.
Brilliant student blackmailed and bred by her married professor.
Every story burns with slow, agonizing tension before erupting into raw, unprotected breeding, ruthless dominance, and soul-crushing guilt that only makes them wetter.
These powerful men don't just break the rules, they destroy them... and their girls thank them with soaked thighs and whispered "please, more."
Some lines should never be crossed but these women don't just cross the lines, they spread their legs and beg to be ruined on the other side. Because the sweetest sins aren't the ones you hide, they're the ones that consume you completely.

Five years ago, to save his life, I endured the pain of breaking up with him, leaving only the words "I'm going to marry a rich man" before vanishing from the world.
Five years later when we meet again, he has become a powerful mafia boss who commands wind and rain, while I'm just a small secretary struggling to make ends meet.
He hates me for being materialistic and heartless—tearing up my contracts, destroying my job, setting up an inescapable net, forcing me into a corner with nowhere to run, vowing to crush me mercilessly under his feet.
He thinks I've long since married into wealth and live a life of luxury;
But he doesn't know that the daughter I bore him is timidly asking me: "Mommy, when will Daddy come see me?"

Seven years ago, I was Velmoor City’s youngest surgeon. A bloodied nursing assistant knelt at my feet, weeping that her thug boyfriend was going to beat her to death. I gave her my guest room.
On her chemo bed, my mother gripped my hand, begging me to kick that woman out. I said she had nowhere else to go.
Later, I caught her wearing my pajamas in my own home. Then, I caught her and my husband naked in his office. Immediately after, a fatal medical error was pinned on me, and my medical license was revoked.
My husband looked at me arrogantly and said: I can liquidate everything I own to settle this for you. On one condition—divorce.
What he didn’t know was that I was pregnant. On the day of the divorce, the judge read out the division of assets: $26.30.
Seven years later, I took a catering gig at a billionaire’s mansion. Less than half an hour into the banquet, his seven-year-old daughter pointed at my seven-year-old daughter. “She stole my ten-million-dollar diamond necklace!”
I looked up and finally recognized him. The billionaire was my "bankrupt" ex-husband. And the woman clinging to his arm, dripping in diamonds, was the nursing assistant who had once knelt at my feet.

As if being sold as a slave wasn't enough, she has to bear the ruthless alpha king a heir which she does,but in his absence, because she had to run to save her life and that of her babies.

Years later, she returned but not as the pathetic little girl that she was. she is now a woman sort after by many alphas and he would have to fight them all to win her back.

Last time, she chased the “true love” a corporate spy sold her—publicly branded me controlling, stole my core tech, and helped him shove me off a rooftop.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back before it all began.

This time I didn’t expose her, didn’t confront her, and didn’t beg her to stay. I set the trap—watched her come close again, test my limits, and steal the “core technology”…

Until the stolen code blew up the rival company, until she was unmasked in front of the cameras and taken away in handcuffs.

Through tears, she demanded, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner he was a corporate spy?”

I answered only, “I did. Last life.”

When twenty-five-year-old Sonja steps into her regular BDSM club, she expects another night of disappointment or maybe a nice encounter with a nice Dom for a change. As the night went on it seems more like disappointment was facing her yet again, but then she meets John – a Dominant twice her age who she never seen at the club before. With his steady hand and rare ability, her plays with her and guides her into subspace for the first time since she joined the BDSM world. What begins as a single night of trust quickly deepens as John checks in on her every single day afterwards, proving that intensity his dominance comes with care and not just pain, like so many before him. After the first week she already knew he was different she just didn’t know how different he really was.

But by Friday, fate twists their lives together in ways neither of them expected: John is announced as the new CEO of Bradford Rynn Properties the company Sonja works at which means she will be working directly under him as she was the CEO’s personal assistant. Suddenly their secret dynamic collides with the working world. Can they balance the electrical pull of their Dom-sub relationship with the boundaries of the office? Will they want to? Will colleagues, family, friends or the weight of power destroys what they build? What happens when love and an unexpected pregnancy threaten to turn their carefully negotiated roles into something far more complicated?
A story of desire, trust, and impossible choices, this novel ask: how far will they go to protect both their careers and their hearts? Does John’s career even matter to him at the end?

(She's my niece. I know this is a line I should never cross.)

The first time we met was at her grandfather's funeral. She was trembling in black lace, and all I wanted was to pull her close and never let go.
The second time, she showed up at my door soaking wet, the night her fiancé shattered her. I peeled the wet clothes from her skin and told myself I was just being a good uncle.
I lied.
The third time, she whispered we shouldn't. I swallowed every word right off her tongue.
The fourth time, she stopped pretending she wanted to leave.
What she doesn't know is that every favor had a price. Every touch in the dark was a thread, pulling tighter. Every rescue, another lock on the cage I built just for her.
When she uncovers the truth between her fiancé and her stepsister, something clicks.
The obsession. The possession. The way he owns her and calls it love.

She's felt this before.
Because the man who swore to protect her plays the very same game — only he plays it in her bed, and he's far, far better at it.

Fans of Janet Evanovich's Stephanie Plum and Jana DeLeon's Miss Fortune will find a new character to love in Holly Hands!Holly Hands. 29. Single mom. Disgraced, former boxing pro. Repo woman.Repossessing Lamborghinis and other exotic toys from criminals is second-hat for Holly.But finding a dead body—and solving a murder—is not.Luckily, Holly has Lucky by her side—a neglected pit bull she found on the wrong side of a job, who refuses to leave her side—and who, like her, has nowhere to go but up. Together, maybe they can crawl their way out of the urban hell of their bad slice of Baltimore, where coming home at night is even more dangerous than going to work. Maybe Holly can manage to get her young daughter the medical treatment she desperately needs, and manage to get her out of her dangerous public school and into the private school of her dreams. Just maybe, she can fall in love with that private school Dad from the other side of town and start a whole new life.Or maybe not.Life has never been easy for Holly. And if the past few days—and the dead body in her trunk—are any indication—it’s about to get a whole lot worse.KNOCKOUT (A HOLLY HANDS COZY MYSTERY) is book #1 in a riveting new cozy mystery series, a page-turning thriller that grabs you from page one and does not let go. Get ready to find yourself reading all night, bleary-eyed, and falling madly in love with a new character who will fight her way into your heart.Book #2 (SUCKER PUNCH) and Book #3 (BELOW THE BELT) in the series are also available.

The night before our engagement party, my fiancé gifted me a million-dollar yacht—with another woman's name carved on the hull.

Not mine. "Serena"—his first love, the one who got away.

Five years of patience. Five years of sacrifice. And this is what I get?

"Stop overreacting," Austin said without a hint of shame. "She's severely depressed. I'm just trying to comfort her."

Comfort her? What about me?

When Serena tried on what should've been my wedding dress, when Austin demanded I "be the bigger person" yet again—I finally snapped.

I threw the engagement ring. It cracked against his face.

Austin's hand shot up in fury.

The door exploded open.

Julian Cross—New York's most dangerous billionaire—stepped inside, his presence filling the room like a storm.

"You dare lay a hand on my woman?"

"You good-for-nothing should get out and save your food rations. I'll use your truckload of supplies for you!"

The man-eating scarlet spores swept through the town. My good brother locked the security door tightly and locked me in the corridor filled with blood mist.

He stared intently at me through the peephole, waiting to see the horrific sight of my internal organs being drained by the fungus.

But a second before I was devoured by the spores, I hid in my personal space and with a single thought drained the last drop of water and every grain of rice from the room.

Three days later, in this impregnable "vacuum tomb".

When he was so thirsty that he swallowed blood, and knelt on the ground desperately pounding on the door.

I kicked the door open, tied him up with nylon rope, and hung him upside down in the blood-red storm outside the window.

After three years of secret marriage with a famous playboy F1 racer, Aria finally got pregnant. But she discovered that Liam was staying with his ex, who is also pregnant…
She was heartbroken, and left the city to raise the baby on her own.
6 years later, while back in town, Aria ran into Liam as her new boss.
Him: "I bought a mansion for our child. Stay."😳
Her: "Sorry, he has no father. "😒

DISCLAIMER BEFORE YOU ENTER

Alpha Daddies who kneels to eat their slutty step daughter’s psy dwell here.

Furious stepmothers with feral wolves are rampant. Be careful! Your c*** are not safe from gagging and even pu*** lips beg to survive from them.

Bratty daughters are here too. Their job is to create seduce their parent’s pack enforcers or warriors who just came back from war. Lastly, unlimited sin, abomination, reverse harem, taboo and anything called LUST dwells here. Grab an extra pair of p***…or maybe a toy.

At my engagement dinner, my fiancé asked me to sign the prenup that killed me once before.

Last time, Adrian smiled, kissed my hand, and promised I would never be alone again. Three weeks later, debt collectors came for money I had never borrowed, black veins crawled under my skin, and his dying mother walked out of hospice in pearls.

This time, I turned to the second page first.

My name was already printed there.

Beside it was a date that had not happened yet.

Under it was another bride’s name.

A woman declared dead twenty-three years ago.

I waited five years for a heart transplant.
My mother—the Luna of our Pack, the healer everyone worships—gave it to someone else.
An orphan girl she took in. A girl who now calls her "Mom."
Ivy got my heart. She got a wolf. She got a mate and a wedding so grand the whole Pack attended.
Me? I watched from the corner, still dying, while my mother smiled for the cameras and accepted praise for her "selfless sacrifice."
When I finally snapped at the ceremony, she slapped me. Told me to apologize. Said I was embarrassing the family.
I'm her actual daughter. I'm the one who can't shift, can't feel a mate bond, can't survive another six months.
But sure. I'm the problem.
They wanted me to stay quiet and die gracefully.
I chose to make sure everyone sees who their perfect Luna really is.

I snapped photos of pale yellow baby clothes I’d bought at Target, posted them on Instagram captioned “Juno's wardrobe.”
Right after I put my phone away, my mother-in-law Genevieve called and berated me. She claimed I’d lost my mind after our stillbirth, insisted I wasn’t pregnant, and demanded I delete the post.
As soon as we hung up, my water broke.
Six hours later, I woke up worn out on a hospital delivery bed at Devereux Memorial Hospital. No baby cried anywhere.
My husband Elias sat beside me with bloodshot eyes. He pulled a lifelike silicone fake pregnancy belly out and set it on my lap, begging me to accept I wasn’t actually carrying a child. I screamed that I’d given birth and demanded to know where my baby Juno was.
Dr. Beckett and a team of doctors walked in, diagnosing me with pseudocyesis—phantom pregnancy. They said I’d only worn a silicone pad to fake a belly. My parents stood nearby, staring at me with shameful pity.
They forced me onto a psychiatric ambulance. I was locked in a windowless ward, drugged nonstop, tormented by the loss of my daughter, until every ounce of my will faded away...

The biggest mistake of my life was falling in love with my childhood best friend, Cole Blackwood.

I grew up with Cole. He was my childhood best friend. When my mom died in a car accident in high school, his mother Lillian, my mom's best friend, saw that my stepmother didn't like me and took me in. She arranged our engagement. Cole protected me from bullies in high school. I fell for him. We secretly married at eighteen.

Shortly after the wedding, he was kidnapped. That's when everything fell apart. I threw myself off a cliff to draw the kidnappers away and save him. I was in a coma for three months. But when I came back to him, weak and broken, he thought some woman named Sophia Vanderbilt had saved him instead. He started hating me for "abandoning him" and grew cold. I tried to explain. He only believed what Sophia told him. My words meant nothing. 

Cole wanted to divorce me, but his parents refused to allow it. I refused too. Sophia drugged him to get pregnant and trap him into marriage, but he stumbled into the wrong room. He slept with me instead. I got pregnant. She faked videos to make him think they'd been together. She forged evidence that I'd cheated. He wouldn't listen to a word I said. 

Then we were both kidnapped and held hostage on a rooftop. Cole chose to save Sophia. I fell. I lost the baby. After Sophia was rescued, she went to the hospital for a checkup. They found leukemia. She needed a bone marrow transplant. I was the only match, but after everything, my body was too weak. Cole used the "debt" I owed his family to force me to donate. 

I refused. Sophia "died." Cole locked me in a psychiatric hospital and tortured me until I died. 

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day he demanded my bone marrow. This time, looking at his desperate eyes, I said yes and decided to divorce him and leave him for good.

Three years ago, my pairs skating partner and I had a beautiful wedding surrounded by friends and family—but we never actually got around to signing the legal papers.
Over those three years, he has stood me up at City Hall exactly twenty-eight times.
One time, he stole my cab while I was burning up with a fever, leaving me shivering on the curb because his new, pampered protégée had a stomachache from drinking too much champagne.
Another time, he blew off our anniversary to rush to her side for a minor sprain.
Every single time we were supposed to finally make our marriage official, his precious junior skater somehow had a devastating emergency.
After twenty-eight broken promises, I finally stopped waiting. I dropped our partnership, shredded our application, and boarded a one-way flight to Milan.
But the moment I completely vanished from his life, the man who couldn't spare an hour to marry me suddenly lost his mind—chasing me across the globe to a city he swore he’d never return to, begging on his knees outside my door for a twenty-ninth chance.

Travis Savage and I were a notorious public pair, bound together by nothing but hatred.

In the glittering, indulgent world of Chicago, he was an untouchable mafia king who ruled with absolute power, making and breaking rules on a whim. And I? I was the wife he loathed above all others in his criminal empire.

It all started when my parents lost their lives saving him, gunned down by his rivals. After their deaths, he kept me close as I grew up, and eventually, our marriage became what everyone expected. For a long time, he was my only anchor in this lonely world.

Once, he’d knelt before me and sworn to protect me for the rest of my life.

Now, he hated me.

He hated that I refused to sign the divorce papers, that I stood in the way of him running off with Renee Sutton — the orphan girl he claimed to have rescued off the streets.

He let her walk all over me and flaunt herself openly in front of me. To get back at them, I leaked their sordid secrets overnight across all of Chicago: their flirty messages, their hotel stays. Word spread through both the criminal underworld and high society alike, leaving the pair mocked and shunned by everyone.

Our marriage had rotted away years ago, worn thin by endless mutual resentment. It was stagnant, foul, and long dead.

Until three days ago.

A string of ambushes left Travis a hunted man. While swerving to avoid an oncoming truck, he was involved in a devastating car crash.

He lay unconscious in the ICU for three full days. When he woke, he claimed he’d forgotten every ounce of the nine years of hatred between us. In his mind, he was still nineteen — the age when he loved me with everything he had.

I almost died on the operating table trying to give Alexander Volkov a child, unaware he already had a pair of illegitimate twins with his childhood sweetheart.
My heart stopped when I saw the DNA results. Alec, the man who made the New York underworld tremble, the man who flew back on a private jet just to hold my hand, was a flawless liar.
I turned my face away, tears soaking the hospital pillow. My hand drifted to my belly. God had finally decided to give me a break after five years of needles and agony—I was pregnant. But now, it felt like the cruelest joke.
He pulled me into his arms, smelling of expensive cologne and... baby formula.
"Tell me what's wrong, honey. Whoever made you unhappy, I'll make them pay."
I stared into his lying eyes and made my decision.
I would vanish with his unborn child, leaving him to rot in eternal regret.

I was once the supreme ruler of the global underworld, stepping down from my throne just to cook hot meals for my daughter. Yet, my arrogant brother-in-law mistook my silence for weakness. He smashed my home, tried to hand my wife over to a Mafia Don for his own career, and even stole my Black-Gold Skull Coin as a tribute!
Fine. You want to play? I'll grant your wish.
With a single keystroke, I initiated the DEFCON-1 combat protocol. Instantly, one hundred thousand of the world’s most elite mercenaries went berserk, locking down the entirety of New York City!

Warning : 21+

"I want you two to make love right in front of my eyes!" He said. My heart neqarly jumped at the sound. Did I mishear or what?

"What do you mean I made love to her? Are you crazy?" Jacob demanded.

"That's my biggest fantasy, Jake! Watching my girlfriend have sex with my best friend or my brother. I wonder if I'll get jealous or join in on the wild game."


Henry William Haydn, a charismatic man of perfection. He became a company director at a young age, living a life of moral values and dignity. But who would have thought that behind the moral wall he always displayed throughout his life, there lurked wild, sometimes unreasonable fantasies.


Amy Evangelista, a simple woman who grew up on the beaches of Bali, realizes her dream of working for a prestigious company in Australia. But her dreams grow even higher when Henry, the company director, is attracted to her simplicity and beauty.


Jacob Andreas Haydn, Henry's cousin, who suffers from a "Brother Complex" and considers Henry the most important person in his life. Jacob, a cold, perfectionist, and sharp-tongued genius, has for months positioned himself as the "Hater" to Amy, whom he considers a stupid woman unworthy of being his beloved brother's girlfriend.

A complicated relationship and crazy love lead them to be trapped in a vortex of traps they call "Fetish"

I’m Leona, and I’ve hidden a forbidden love under the moonlight of the werewolf world for nine long years—an unspoken bond with my brother’s closest friend, Alpha Nick.
When he looked at me and said, “I’ll find someone better for you,” there was a flicker in his eyes I couldn’t read. But when he turned away, it was to chase after his ex-girlfriend, Selene, crashing through the forest branches like gravity itself answered her call. “His wolf never resonated with ours.” Aris, my wolf, howled inside me.“You’ve spent years trying to spark fire in frozen stone.”
And yet, I was the fool who mistook the instinct for fated love.
In my past life, when I was seven months pregnant and trapped beneath an avalanche during a winter patrol, he was tucked in a border cave listening to Selene sing ballads under moonlit stalactites.
When I was curled in pain from stomach ulcers, he was busy tuning her purification crystals.
Even when I was shoved into the river by Selene, it wasn’t my drowning body he s

I suffered a head injury when I was little, so I’m a bit slow at everything I do.
My brother is the greatest hero in my heart, so I copy whatever he does—including being a simp.
He simped for a witch, so I did the same for her younger sister. But just as I was being relentlessly humiliated by the sister, and even dragged to the brink of death, my brother quit.

I thought the orchestrated assault was the most profound betrayal of my life. Then, from the shadows of the wine cellar, I heard my husband and his brothers toasting to their success.
"The slow-motion capture of her climax, paired with those broken whimpers... it was cinematic perfection."
"She played her part beautifully. After all, she’s just a Valenti."
I learned the devastating truth: my agony was their scripted entertainment. My husband. The director.
He married me to claim his inheritance.
He branded me to mark his property.
He caused my miscarriage in that dungeon, coldly calling it "tidying up loose ends."
But they overlooked one ancient law—the Moretti blood oath: should the Don betray his vows, everything becomes his wife's.
Now, I stand in the penthouse of his casino.
My fingers trace the scar on my shoulder—now transformed into a dagger.
"Darling, you celebrated the anniversary of your production. My gift to you is a lifetime behind bars."
Now, the final cut is mine.

In my past life, I signed a marriage agreement, served as a live-in son-in-law for five years, and died in a hospital. Meanwhile, my "wife," Grace, was on the moon, embracing her lover and watching the star rings.
Given a second chance, she threw the agreement in my face at the marriage summit: "Sign it. After the wedding, I'll go find Karl. You'd better act like the legal wife."
I didn't refuse; I just tossed the agreement to my emotional nemesis .
The whole city laughed at my madness.
Until Grace flaunted her "pure-blood heir" at the 100-day celebration, I publicly projected her sterilization report—
the bastard in her arms was the product of her lover and a downtown prostitute.
And her lover was being mutilated in the downtown area.
In this life, I'm not a live-in son-in-law; I'm her gravedigger.

My husband Michael's father and my own father shared the same name—Robert. His was Robert Carter; mine, Robert Smith. I once thought it a sweet coincidence, until that 3 AM phone call turned this quirk of fate into a living nightmare.
The nursing home called to say Robert Carter had died, but when Michael returned from his business trip, he assumed it was my father who had passed. "Old Robert's finally gone," he smirked. "Should've moved him to the cheaper nursing home ages ago." Can you believe it? His own father—the man who'd left him an inheritance—and there he was, helping his medical intern mistress cover up malpractice, dismissing the death as "just some useless old man."
He has no idea he's protecting his father's killer. No clue I've seen through his cold-bloodedness all along.
I wonder, when the truth finally hits him, how will this absurd tragedy end?

At the dinner party, Alexander had his arm around my waist, chatting and laughing with clients in German.
I was about to tell him the happy news that I was pregnant.
He was tender and affectionate in front of me, kissing my cheek from time to time.
But they didn't know my German was fluent enough to understand every dirty detail.
Like right now, I heard him bragging to the client about how wild things got last night with his stepsister Lillian.

“Does Mr. Howard Have an STD?”
With one sentence, Sienna tore apart her marriage to Ethan.
For three years of their secret marriage, she was his obedient wife, his silent assistant, and the woman he always overlooked.
Until she discovered that every business trip he took was spent living with his adopted sister.
While he was hospitalized after a car accident, she slipped divorce papers into his documents and tricked him into signing them.
She quit her job, moved out, and inherited a massive fortune.
The whole city mocked her, saying she was nothing without Ethan.
But she turned around and climbed back to the top of the industry, standing beside a man even more powerful than him.
Only then did Ethan realize what he had lost, kneeling before her and begging for another chance.
She leaned down slightly and smiled.
“Mr. Howard, when you cheated on me… did you ever think I could choose someone else too?”

I thought my husband was my salvation.
Until I overheard him in the wine cellar, laughing and joking with my "attackers" from that night.
The gang rape that destroyed me was a show he orchestrated himself.

He married me only for inheritance rights.
He humiliated me, branded me, took away my child, and made my life a living hell.
But he forgot one thing—
The ancient blood oath of the Corleone family states clearly:
If a husband betrays his marriage, everything he owns shall belong to his wife.

This time, I'm no longer the rabbit waiting to be slaughtered.
This time, I write the ending.

I'm an ancient vampire prince who's been playing human boyfriend to a demon hunter.
Big mistake.
She's completely unhinged—GPS tracking, 24/7 surveillance, the works.
When she threatens to dump me unless I surrender all my secrets, I do the unthinkable:
I actually say yes.
Too bad she doesn't know her "helpless" boyfriend has been the one keeping her alive all this time.

"If you want a shot at the Olympics, and if you want that NHL draft, you will announce that you’ve been quietly dating," the Dean ordered, sliding the fake contract across the desk. I looked at Reid Carter, the arrogant hockey captain who had sabotaged my skates, the man I had despised for ten years. Now, I had to pretend to be deeply in love with him for ninety days. I grabbed the pen, my fingers trembling, and signed my name. "Perfect," the PR manager smiled. "Tonight is the bonfire. Act like you actually like her. Iris, try not to look like you're plotting his murder."

We walked into the dark parking lot, the scent of burning wood filling the air. "Ready to sell our souls?" Reid murmured, his massive hand suddenly wrapping around mine. An unexpected jolt of electricity shot up my arm. His skin was rough, calloused from years of gripping a hockey stick, but his heat melted right through my cold fingers. We stepped into the firelight, surrounded by a hundred whispering athletes and flashing cameras. I leaned my head against his broad shoulder, playing the perfect, obsessed girlfriend. "She's worth the trouble," he told the crowd, his voice dark and unreadable.

But when the cameras were gone, the lines began to blur. In the empty locker room, he pinned me against the cold metal lockers, his chest heaving. "You're squeezing too hard," I whispered, my heart hammering against my ribs. "You're the one shaking, Ice Queen," he growled back, his face inches from mine. We were supposed to hate each other. We were supposed to be a PR stunt to save our funding. But as his gaze dropped to my lips, the fiery tension between us felt dangerously real. Would the world find out we were a fraud, or would this fake contract destroy us both?

Swapped at birth and stripped of her rightful place, Mia Jones thought her life couldn't get any worse after her scheming sister, Eleanor, stole her family and her fiancé. But a malicious plot leads Mia into the wrong room.

Drugged and thrown into the wrong man’s bed. Mia Jones realized her hands were tied to the bed frame. A towering silhouette radiating a dangerous aura stood at the foot of the bed. Before she could process what was happening, she was claimed by a violent kiss from that man… unaware that the man she left behind was the ruthless heir of the Greco Empire and powerful billionaire. A man powerful enough to ruin cities with a single word. A man who never lets women near him, Dylan Greco.
When Dylan wakes, the mysterious woman is gone.
“Have you uncovered the identity of the woman last night?”
“Boss, we couldn’t find anything. That woman… must have broken in by accident.”
But he remembers her. And he wants answers.

Escaping into the night, Mia Jones tries to bury the traumatic memory, unaware that the CEO is tearing the city apart to find the mysterious woman with the crescent-shaped scar on her back.
Fate brings them together again when Mia unknowingly takes a job as the therapist for Dylan's autistic son, "Little Shrimp"—a child who instantly connects with her and calls her "Mummy". As Dylan unravels the truth about that dark night, he vows to protect Mia and help her reclaim everything that was stolen from her. But with a manipulative sister, a treacherous family, and deadly enemies lurking in the shadows, will their unexpected bond survive? It's a gripping tale of sweet revenge, hidden secrets, and a romance that could bring an empire to its knees.

"Please, don't leave me alone! I want you to be my mommy!"

Twana Murray thought she was just taking in a lost, pitiful four-year-old boy she met on the street. She didn't realize she was stepping right into an adorable, meticulously calculated trap. The child was none other than the hidden heir of the Levis family, and he had just claimed her as his mother.
Enter Zekariah Levis—Slington’s most ruthless, untouchable billionaire, a man notorious for his icy demeanor and complete aversion to women. Plagued by a crippling, incurable insomnia, Zekariah discovers a bizarre miracle: Twana’s voice is the only cure that can bring his tortured mind to rest.
What begins as an accidental encounter quickly spirals into a fierce, all-consuming obsession. Zekariah will stop at nothing to claim what is his. When sleazy investors try to harass her at work, the domineering CEO quietly buys out her entire company just to shield her. When she is nearly attacked in a dark alley, he doesn't just save her life—he orders her entire neighborhood to be illuminated with new streetlights overnight, so she never has to walk in the shadows again.
Despite his overwhelming protection and the little boy's sweet pleas, Twana desperately tries to escape the billionaire's grasp, clinging to her blind loyalty for an overseas boyfriend.
But no one escapes Zekariah Levis. As the web of betrayal around her personal life begins to unravel, Twana is backed into a corner. How long can she resist the billionaire's suffocating possession? And what will happen when the chilling conspiracy of a delivery room from five years ago is finally brought to light?

She was the best candidate to become the Queen, the Moon Goddess’s most favored. But Hestia gave it all up just to marry Alpha Augustus, the strongest Alpha in the country, and create a happier and more beautiful family with him.

That is, until he and her twin sister Medea betrayed her, and she found herself lying in the middle of a forest, half-dead and disfigured. She wanted to question the Goddess’s plans for her. Or if she even still cares for her at all. After all, she was now nothing but a damaged child.

But when she was saved by the enemy Crown Prince and the leader of the Rogues, Hestia realized that there was a bigger truth needed to uncover, four hearts of the most powerful men for her to own, and a throne to claim.

Back for vengeance against those who wronged her, Hestia must defeat Medea, the current strongest Queen candidate, and expose the dark truths of the Lycan’s high society. But in the middle of the chaos and the calls of her fated mates, would she be able to dance along?

An enemy, an ally, an old friend, and the one who betrayed her the most. Would she open her heart again for any of them, or let her revenge consume what’s left in her heart entirely?

Traiver waited ten years to make the hunters pay. He planned to break their daughter slowly, completely, until her pain balanced his own. He never expected her to ask for it.
"Hurt me," she whispered, offering her throat and her guilt. "Do whatever you need."
Traiver's fingers trembled. He hated her for this. Hated that she saw the wound beneath the monster. Hated that when he finally touched her, it wasn't to destroy. He took everything she offered. Then he took more.
Hatred twisted into hunger. Cruelty blurred into possession. Every punishment became a claim, every touch a dangerous temptation. Navelle's innocence both tormented and captivated him, threatening to unravel the vengeance he had spent a decade perfecting.
But vengeance has a price. When the hunters' daughter carries his child, Traiver must choose. The revenge that fed his demons, or the family that could finally starve them?

Isabella Vaughn was poisoned by her husband Marcus and his lover Serena, dying in his arms for her pharma empire.
She awakens on her funeral day, reborn in the body of Lila Harrington, the dazzling heiress engaged to Julian Blackwood, heir to her family’s fiercest rival.
With a new face and enemy access, Isabella vows revenge. But Julian notices the change: sharper eyes, hidden secrets.
Trapped pretending to love the man who might see through her, her vengeance could destroy them both.

Five years ago, during a passionate sexual encounter, Freya Myers stole sperm from a mysterious and dangerous man, intending to have a genetically superior child. That man was none other than Declan Castle, the ruthless, enigmatic CEO of the globally renowned Castle Group.

Five years later, Freya Myers returns to the city with a pair of exceptionally gifted twins, desperately trying to conceal their existence from the world. But when she interviews for an internship, she unexpectedly encounters Declan Castle—the very same man from years ago—as her interviewer. From then on, Declan Castle becomes a persistent, demonic force haunting her!

Five years ago, a single, desperate mistake changed Freya Myers's life forever. Intending to secure a future with the man of her dreams, she ended up in the wrong room, stealing the 'seed' of the wrong man. That man was Declan Castle—the cold, ruthless, and enigmatic CEO of the world-renowned Castle Group.

Now, Freya has returned to the city as a struggling single mother, hiding a pair of genius twins from the world. When she lands an internship at the Castle Group, she hopes to remain invisible. But fate has other plans. Declan Castle, a man who has remained mysteriously untouched by any woman since that fateful night, instantly senses something familiar about the new designer. He has spent years searching for the woman who 'ruined' him, and now that he has found her, he has no intention of letting her go.

Forced into a high-stakes marriage of convenience with the domineering CEO, Freya must navigate the treacherous waters of high society while desperately guarding her children's true identity. Between a scheming stepmother, jealous socialites, and a series of deadly secrets, the walls are closing in.

What started as a game of cat-and-mouse and a quest for revenge soon ignites into a passion that neither can control. In a world where power is everything and betrayal is a way of life, can Freya protect her heart and her children, or will the relentless Mr. Castle claim everything she’s been trying to hide?