1369 Book(s) Related to broken for you summary

"Men are visual creatures. Put on this sexy nightgown, lie on the bed, and trust me—he won't be able to resist!"

My best friend sent me a lace nightgown with cutouts.

I traded my usual innocent look for something different. The sheer fabric clung to my curves, revealing just enough to be tantalizing.

We'd been married for three years. The first time we made love was only a month ago.

Kian had been drunk. He was gentle as he entered me.

But now, as I shyly reached for Kian's hand in silent invitation, he coldly turned me down.

He'd rather lock himself in his study, pleasuring himself while calling out another woman's name.

His first love.

How often was it that two madly successful brothers wanted to sleep with a nobody like me? They worshipped my mom-bod when my own husband couldn't.
They fought with each other to make me theirs. And all of this unleashed passion that no couple nor even a pornstar could reach - over a Christmas getaway.
Sometimes, working as a tour guide comes with its own 'troubles', I guess!


My body was on fire. The young blood, who claimed to be a singer of some sort, had his hand on the small of my back.
Sex with Raphael was anything but exciting. No foreplay, no kissing and no cuddling after boring sex.
But with this young, charming man named DYLAN, I felt excitement even before I guided him to my room. I quickly realized he was right next door - Dylan was my tour neighbor.
Dylan looked at someone and winked at them before closing the door. That was weird. But I was too dazed to realize it.
Dylan turned back to me, his piercing eyes gazing down at me. My body was tingling.
One look and I could see the man's toned body under his soft, spandex white tee. I bit my lip, accidentally directing the hormonal male's attention to my plump, pink lips.
"Are those rose petals...?" Dylan asked, biting his own lip. The sound that he made immediately after made my thighs clench. It sounded like the sexiest groan of a frustrated man!
What was that?

The Secrets We Keep

Tati has spent three years running from a past she thought was buried forever. At twenty-six, she’s built a new life in a new city, carefully hiding the mistakes that nearly destroyed her. But when an anonymous message arrives containing a photo from her past and a chilling promise to reveal the truth, everything she’s worked for begins to unravel.

As fear closes in, Tati meets Kai Carter—a confident, perceptive stranger who refuses to look away when her carefully crafted facade starts to crack. Drawn together by secrets, danger, and an undeniable connection, they uncover a web of fraud, betrayal, and a suspicious death tied to the powerful men Tati once trusted.

With a mysterious meeting looming and old enemies resurfacing, Tati and Kai must uncover what really happened three years ago before the past claims them both. As buried evidence resurfaces and long-hidden truths emerge, Tati is forced to confront not only the darkness she escaped but also the possibility of trusting someone again.

A suspenseful romance filled with mystery, danger, and emotional healing, The Secrets We Keep explores the cost of survival, the weight of guilt, and the courage it takes to stop running from the truth.

Dive into In Love with the CEO, a thrilling romance where love conquers secrets and trials! Alex, a fierce, independent woman, is shaken when she uncovers a dossier exposing her past, testing her trust in Alexander, her protective, passionate CEO husband. Their fiery bond faces a stormy pregnancy, wild cravings (mustard on cookies, seriously?), and buried family wounds. Through hilarious spats, heart-wrenching reconciliations, and a dramatic delivery, Alex learns to forgive—her mother, her past, and herself. With young Julia, a pregnant sister-in-law, and mischievous twins, this vibrant saga celebrates resilience and love’s triumph. Weddings, births, tears, and laughter weave an addictive tale that pulls you in. From tender moments to steamy nights, this story is a must-read for fans of modern romance and intense family drama. Get swept away by a journey where love always wins—join Alex and Alexander’s unforgettable adventure!

Dear readers, this book has come to an end. Thank you for sticking with me and reading all this time. I highly recommend another amazing novel of the same genre:
. I’d be grateful for your support, thank you!
On my wedding day, I found another woman's sexy lace bra in my husband's car, with semen still on it...

Dear readers! If you love this story, check out my other book: His Regret，My Ex Wants Me Back

A month before my wedding, I burned the dress I'd spent a year making with my own hands.
My fiancé stood there with his pregnant mistress wrapped in his arms, sneering at me. "Without me, you're nothing."
I turned around and knocked on the richest man in the city's door. "Mr. Locke, interested in a marriage alliance? I'm offering a hundred-billion-dollar stake—plus a future business empire, free of charge."

My husband Lucius said: 'My real wife has returned.'
To keep him, for a month I clung to him, making love passionately...

When I was in excruciating pain from cancer, my husband gave the last box of painkillers to his pregnant mistress.

"You were going to reject me, Derek?" she asked, her voice trembling.

He stepped closer, his eyes locked on hers. "It's not how you see it," he said, his deep voice low.

She demanded clarity, her voice rising. "Answer me, Derek! Were you going to reject me? Yes or no?"

After an heartbroken whereby she witnessed her boyfriend cheating on her with her best friend, Elena Gandillo, finds herself in a shocking predicament.

Her new professor is none other than the man she shared a passionate night with - Derek Danvers! The mysterious and dangerous bastard son of that powerful pack!

Everything went complicated!

He was way older than her and had some dark secrets which could hurt her. But things take a dark turn when she discovers he's her mate - and he's been planning to reject her all along.

Despite his secrets and age gap, she's drawn to him. Trying to get away from him and avoid trouble, finds herself drawing more and more closer to him instead.

Will she flee or follow her heart? Can she defy the judgment of others and chase love, or will his secrets tear them apart?

I guess that's for you all to find out.

"This is wrong. You're my uncle." Sophia said as her exposed back touched the cold wall, causing her to shiver right down to her core.

"Soph... I've felt nothing more right than this. Moreover, I'm not really your uncle. You and I both know this." Rayn said as he drew closer, minimizing the non-existent distance between the two of them. Their lips inches apart as she felt his hot breath on her lips.

"Uncle... Party... We have to go..." Sophia muttered as she melted against his hard body but his legs prevented her fragile, little body from falling down on the floor.

"No. We are not going anywhere while you are dressed as a temptress. Only I know how I keep my demons at bay, when I see every man present in the room looking at you, wishing you were theirs." He said as his blue eyes took in the revealing dress his kitten was wearing, and a black storm started raging within them.

"I'm not a temptress, uncle. I'm a 19-year-old girl." Sophia responded, trying to sound reasonable while pressing her hands against his chest, attempting to push him back.

"Oh? So, what are you up to now?" Rayn inquired, holding her hands above her head. His hips grinded against his kitten's as his face inched closer, their lips now touching.

"What exactly am I doing?" Sophia asked, as she struggled to breathe and tried to break free from her foxy uncle's clutches. But it was all for naught.

"You're tempting me into doing this." Rayn said this as he pressed his lips against his sister's, causing her to gasp and taking advantage of the opportunity to exploit the innocent girl's mouth with his sinful tongue.

What is happening today? This morning, Ophelia had everything she thought she wanted - amazing friends, an awesome job at one of the best gourmet food company, which for a food lover like her is a dream come true, and a boyfriend. Until the mysterious and cold Mr. Hansel, her CEO, asks her name. Now she keeps wondering why someone like him would be interested in someone like her. She is a nobody, a simple secretary. And not very attractive either, too chubby - or so her boyfriend keeps saying. So why does he keep looking at her? Could he be seeing more in her than everyone else, including herself? Could he be seeing... her?

Discover this Winter Romance story about Love, and... more importantly, self-Love!

When I woke up with a hangover, I found a handsome and naked stranger sleeping beside me.

I’m Tanya, a surrogate’s daughter, an omega with no wolf and no scent.
On my 18th birthday, when I planned to give my virginity to my boyfriend, I found him sleeping with my sister.
I went to the bar to get drunk, and accidentally had a one-night stand with the handsome stranger.
I thought he was just an ordinary werewolf, but they said he was Marco, the alpha prince and the most powerful Lycan in our kingdom.
‘You slut, you’re pregnant! Fortunately, Rick is kind enough to let you be his mistress and save you from shame.’ my stepmother said, tossing a pregnancy strip on the table.
Rick was an old pervert. No she-wolf could keep up with his sexual demand. No she-wolf could survive with him more than 1 year.
When I was in despair, Marco came to my rescue. He got down on one knee, took out a ring and said he would marry me.

I thought Marco married me because he loved me, but later I found that was not the truth…

In a frantic movement, he tries to move his hands towards me but he can’t because of the handcuffs. He groans and leans up to me. He wants to take control but he can’t. I laugh mischievously and kiss him now, putting my tongue in his mouth and he forcefully kisses me back, exploring my mouth. He becomes even harder and I moan from the intensity of him.
He growls through gritted teeth and it sounds like a promise to torture me with pleasure. It sends tingles down my spine and between my legs. My hands caress his muscular arms, they run up to the handcuffs and he clenches his hands into fists like he is trying to control some strong force within him. I am excited to see him battling with his desire. I want to tease him even more.
I laugh. "Seems like I'm in control after all."
******
I’m Ellie, an orphan. I fall in love with my daddy’s friend, Austin. He’s the Alpha King. He’s my adoptive father. And he’s twice my age.

Ellie accidentally has a one-night stand with a stranger the day her adoptive father returns from war.
Wow, this stranger is so hot and good in bed! He’s much better than her scary guardian, only the room is too dark to see his face.

When bloodthirsty, ruthless Alpha Austin learns his little Ellie had a one-night stand with a man, he is furious.
"Who is that guy?"
"You have no right to know who he is!"
"If I find out who that stupid male dog is, I'll make him regret doing this to you!"
"He isn't a stupid male dog. He’s the best man I've ever met. He's sexy, he's strong and he makes me happy!"
Until one day, Austin finds that stupid male dog is him…

"You need to get a lady pregnant!!" Aurelio Dad's loud voice rang in his head and he slowly put down the magazine he had used to cover his face giving his dad a questioning look.

"Dad... excuse me?" he replied clearly shocked by his dad words.
****
Aurelio Bertram, a 24 years old handsome billionaire, Grandson of a mob boss and the son of a highly recognized business man in the City, and for Aurelio..he is the combination of both but was temporarily nothing. His family happened to be one of the most feared and respected family in the city.

Just when he had thought of taking his revenge on one of his childhood rival and an enemy to his family, and to go for one of a huge party event, his dad and Grandpa weren't ready to allow him but since he was of age to take over their family business, he put a condition that Aurelio must get a Lady that'd get him a child to be a heir to him but it didn't go as expected.

Aurelio Bertram, known as a Man whore in his family and he thought it'd be easy to fulfill his task but no, this time no single Lady got pregnant until he met;

Erica James, A middle class hotel waitress, she's simple, has a very good body shape that'd make men drool over her. Her parents left her since highschool since she didn't further her educations for her own reasons, they believed nothing good would come out of her. But then after one night Aurelio spent with her, she got pregnant and thought of running away with the pregnancy out of shame but how would she run away with the All powerful Aurelio Bertram's Child...??
A child that would be his heir?!...

Kiera Scott is a 21 years old single lady, she Lives alone since she graduated from high school. Sometimes her friends comes around to visit her. Luckily enough for her she's the only daughter of her family and very pampered. She's pretty... The perfect definition of beauty can be told alone by looking at her. She's loved by everyone and works in a very good company and paying one...loved by her colleagues..... But! The only problem is her Boss.

He's Tibby Wilf ...

Tibby Wilf is a sex freak, crazy, mean, extra arrogant... He hates being corrected... But Kiera keeps crushing on him.

her mom would always tell her her to quit her job since she has a boss as like him, but she keeps refusing cos she loves him but she never knew he was a sex addict.

He'd always scold her when she's wrong and not...till she got used to it


Kiera heard a female loud voice as she hurriedly ran to a room wondering who could that be
She doesn't wants to be seen by anyone cos her boss said so. if she by mistake let anyone see her in his house she'd lose her job.
panic took over as she ran in...just then Wilf walked out of the bathroom with towel around his waist
"you!!" he called as she turned back shocked to see her boss half naked.
"arrgh!" she screamed and shut her eyes
"what you doing here?" she asked
"I should ask you that!" he fired back as she opened her eyes
'gosh...so hot' she gasped inwardly
"I'm hiding... please" she whispered as she walked closer to him
"hey... stay back" he hurriedly said as she staggered back
"arrgh!" she screamed as he pushed her back but unfortunately... his towels fell of his waist.

"Shut your fvcking mouth close!!" Zach yelled out of anger.
Madison had been frustrating him for the past few days and deep down it hurts him, it was an emotional frustration.
"I thought you liked it wide open huh" she replied with a smirk and walked to his table.

He felt his body twitch at her dirty words, she had known him too well.
"I am remaining a Doctor!, Who do you think you are to tell me to quit my profession?!' she yelled out and he stood up from his table and walked to her while he was opening his suit jacket.

" Wha-wha--"
"I am your Daddy like you cried last night, and you are mine" he replied and crashed his lips on her before she could say anything.


Darly Madison, a well trained medical doctor and surgeon has been living a peaceful life until one day her best friend asked her to go with her to a night Party in one of the popular hotels in the city.

There she had a one night stand with no other person but Zach Westley, a dominant and possessive Mafia boss.
Now her world changes from being a surgeon to being claimed by the Mafia.

Mara Vale was the intern everyone forgot.

She carried coffee into rooms where decisions were made, fixed printers no one thanked her for, and watched her ideas appear under another woman's name. At Vane & Co., she was told to be grateful for the badge that barely opened any doors.

Then, one stormy night in the sealed archive, Mara found a file the board had hidden for twenty years.

It said the company was still searching for its missing heiress.

It said someone had buried the real girl inside the lowest rung of the business.

And beside the photograph of a vanished child with Mara's eyes, someone had written one instruction in red ink:

Do not let her rise.

Caroline Mercer once believed kindness could be proven by sacrifice. She took in two orphaned children, gave them schools, doctors, tutors, rooms beside her daughter's nursery, and a path into the Mercer name.

Years later, those children returned as witnesses against her. Sloane Vale smiled for the cameras while calling Caroline a monster. Nolan Vale handed federal investigators a beautiful stack of forged evidence. Caroline's husband was broken, her company was seized, and her only daughter, Evelyn, died after being traded into a marriage meant to protect everyone else's reputation.

Then Caroline opened her eyes on the morning the Vale children first arrived at her door.

This time, she would feed them. She would house them. She would educate them. She would keep every receipt, every doctor's report, every legal notice.

But she would never again give strangers the keys to her child's future.

He calls me Sage, a blank canvas he reshapes to fit his whims. My Alpha, Kieran—the King of the North—blindfolds me each night, his whispers soft against my ear as he breathes my name.

Yet his intense stare cuts right through me, fixated on the distant moonlight he craves but can never touch. The irony stings—he looks at another through my eyes, just as I scour him for echoes of my fiancé, lost to me ten years ago. We serve as flawless stand-ins for each other, offering warmth in this prison of hate and longing, even as we tear at one another's wounds.

When the harsh truth strips away our last veil of illusion, how will this deceitful game we've played finally unravel? "You are not my Alpha," I whisper, "you are just my moon." But when that moonlight dims, can our shattered spirits still navigate the infinite shadows to find home?

They told me my daughter drowned. Too much to drink, a slick deck, a terrible accident.

Then they put a number on her, slid the check across the table, and asked me to sign away the right to ever ask how she died.

I signed.

They didn't ask what I'd do after.

I changed my name. I spent three years earning a desk in their building, close enough to hear the man who buried her joke about the father who "made some noise, took the money, and went away."

He doesn't know my face. None of them do.

They thought the money bought my silence.

They have no idea what it bought.

The folder slid across the table toward Hannah's husband. Sign here. Family helps family.

What the Whitfields never once thought to wonder was that the quiet daughter-in-law they'd spent four years bleeding had almost three million dollars they couldn't see.

She'd hidden it for one reason: to keep the only good man in that family from being turned into their wallet.

Now they wanted his signature. His house. His name on their debt.

They had spent a lifetime underestimating the quiet one.

They were about to learn what that costs.

They paid me a fortune to authenticate a masterpiece. It took eight seconds to know it was a forgery — and eight more to understand I was the forgery they'd hired.

The brushwork was my great-grandmother's. The woman they let die in a county ward, calling herself a liar for daring to say the paintings were hers.

The Ashford name sits on three centuries of art, scholarship, and law. None of it is theirs. He stole her words. His wife stole her paintings. They built a dynasty on a woman they erased — and never learned her blood runs in me too.

I'm the lawyer they brought in to seal one more theft. I said no.

By the time they remember her name, they won't have one left to sign.

They put the calm ones on graveyard. I'm calmer than calm - I can't read a face to save my life, but give me a voice and I'll tell you what you ate for dinner and what you're lying about.

3:07 a.m. A woman calls. A struggle. The line dies.

By sunrise there's no body, no report, and the call I logged has wiped itself clean - like it never rang. The whole city is asleep on it.

But I've never trusted the system. I keep my own copy of every call.

He erased her. I kept the tape. Now he just has to find out the night guy nobody looks at has been listening the whole time.

I’m the only person on Earth with a clinically proven antibody capable of neutralizing this rare deadly virus.
I caught the virus when I was six. Its mortality rate was staggeringly high, and everyone thought I’d never pull through. Against all odds, I recovered entirely on my own. By some strange twist of biology, my body made the world’s sole antibody that could fight this virus off.
Once I turned eighteen, I signed up to donate my serum as a volunteer.
For twenty years straight, rain or shine, I showed up to donate free of charge—107 separate donations in total. Each time, I pulled a gravely ill patient back from death’s brink.
I’m no saint living to save the whole world. Every last donation was done for my mother.
Back when I was six, my father’s infidelity drove my mother to take her own life. What happened was cruel beyond measure, completely unforgivable.
A fortune-teller once told me my mom’s lingering resentment ran far too deep. To free her trapped, wandering soul for good, a blood relative of hers had to finish exactly 108 acts of good deeds.
Twenty years in, only one deed remained. Just one more, and my mother’s spirit could finally rest in peace.
But when the hospital sent out an urgent emergency SOS this time around, I did something I’d never done in two decades.
I turned their request down flat.

They built a hundred-year name on a scholarship they stole from a dead girl.

This morning that name landed on my desk. Brooke Hale, applicant. One signature away from the federal clerkship her family has won, somehow, in every generation since 1962.

I'm the one who signs.

I wrote three words instead. Recommend denial. Then I sat with my hands flat on the file so they'd stop shaking.

The Hales think it's a cold case. A girl named Iris, ruled ineligible sixty years ago, gone quiet, gone poor, gone.

They don't know Iris was my great-grandmother.

They don't know I kept the letter.

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?

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?

I was "Ghost," the undefeated legend of the underground racing circuit. To uncover the truth behind the tragic fall that left my sister, Sylvia, in a coma, I disguised myself as a timid, pathetic scholarship student and infiltrated Spencer Academy—an elite world ruthlessly ruled by old-money families and the hockey dynasty.

I thought my petty revenge was flawless when I slashed a bully's tire with a razor blade hidden in my sleeve. But I was caught red-handed by the academy's most feared predator: Rowan King, the "Tyrant of the Ice."

He was Sylvia's rumored boyfriend. More importantly, he was the last person to see her that night.

With a single glance, he shattered my "good girl" facade. He knew my true identity as the street racer "Ghost," and he knew exactly why I had sneaked into his school.

I should have treated him as my prime suspect. But between his fiercely dominant advances and his reckless, deadly protection, he was making my heart race entirely out of control...

When I scrolled across that photo of Tyler with his arms wrapped around Rachel at 2 AM, I nearly shattered my phone against the wall. That bastard—maintaining our "just scratching an itch" arrangement while wooing her with soulmate bullshit?

With anger burning through my veins and my skin flushing hot, I stormed off to the jazz bar determined to expose him.

But who could have guessed that in the middle of this dramatic showdown, I'd discover the truth about Seth—the one secretly marking up my sheet music, the one who decked Tyler for me?

Maybe this gut-wrenching betrayal was actually the universe's twisted way of pointing me toward something real.

My husband Ronald's best friend Clyde died three months ago, and with his last breath, he made Ronald promise to take care of his pregnant widow, Jennifer. From that moment, Jennifer invaded our lives, and I was only four months pregnant at the time.

Then Jennifer got caught in a gang shootout. She needed an emergency blood transfusion, and she had this rare blood type—Rhnull. Turns out, I'm Rhnull too.

To save Jennifer and her baby, Ronald forced me to abort mine.

I woke up, and my world collapsed.

Lying next to me was Sebastian—the golden boy, the heir to the Rhodes empire, and the nemesis who has tormented me for twenty years.

I fled. I swore to take that night to my grave. If I kept my mouth shut, no one would know.

But Fate has a twisted sense of humor. Five weeks later, two red lines on a pregnancy test slapped me in the face. I’m pregnant. And the father isn’t just my childhood nightmare. He’s the man who just bought my company. My new boss.

I tried to hide. He hunted me down. He scares off my dates. He tramples my pride. He invades my life like a tyrant. He mocks me in public, yet destroys anyone who touches me in private.

"Nancy, did you really think you could escape?" He pins me against the wall, his eyes dark, that familiar scent of cedar suffocating me. "Admit it. You hate me, but you need me."

On my eighteenth birthday, I didn't get a cake. I got a slap from my mother and my MIT acceptance letter crushed under her heel.

In their eyes, I wasn't a daughter—I was a walking blood bank, a spare part for my cousin Jennifer.

They took my blood, made me take the blame, even sent me to prison in her place.

In that car accident, my mother saved my cousin without hesitation and left me to bleed out in the wreckage.

"Save Jennifer first! That wretch is too stubborn to die!"

That's when I gave up on them.

But what truly broke me wasn't being sent to a mental hospital—it was the diary I found hidden in my mother's safe.

Five years ago, I pulled a dying man from the depths of the ocean.
His name was Silas. When he woke up, he looked me in the eye and swore he'd marry me, that he'd protect me for the rest of his life.
I believed him.
I hid it from my clan, shed my tail, and followed him to land. I bore him a daughter—Winnie. I kept myself locked away in a villa, out of sight from the world. No wedding. No ring. Even the mermaid scales on Winnie's legs had to be covered up with layers and layers of concealer.
Until that night at the banquet. Zoe and her goons pinned us both to the tile by the pool, scraping the scales off Winnie's legs with a knife, sneering that this "filth" was such an eyesore.
I stroked her mangled calf, desperate for Silas to come save us. But Zoe said Silas was her fiancé.
Silas? Her fiancé?
Then what the hell am I?

I had to claim Caleb tonight.

I had paid a six-figure premium to contract a high-level werewolf mate from the nation’s top "Fated Mates" agency. I had chosen him for his elite stats, the "absolute submission" guaranteed in his file, and most importantly, a face that could put any Hollywood A-lister to shame.

But over the last few months, things had completely derailed from my expectations.

He refused to let me touch him!

I have to figure out what's going on.

The day I walked in on my boyfriend screwing that blonde tramp, I dropped the homemade tiramisu right there on the floor—our two-year relationship smashed to bits, messier than the splattered cream.

I ducked into a bar, slamming back whiskey, when this guy in a sharp black suit sidles up, his voice smooth as silk laced with bourbon. I spat out, "Help me forget him," but ended up totally lost in the presidential suite. He backed me against the wall, tore open my blouse, his tongue circling my nipple before biting down hard, leaving me breathless. "You taste like candy, baby—tonight, I'm gonna eat you up."

But then my boyfriend FaceTimes, spots the guy behind me, and loses it, screaming, "Dad!"

I went ice-cold—my hookup was my boyfriend's stepdad? Even worse, this thirty-three-year-old powerhouse was Brooklyn's deadliest mob boss.

What began as a vengeful fling spiraled into a forbidden nightmare?

I loved Finley for two years.
Until 1:00 AM on a Tuesday, when his best friend, Orion, sent me a half-naked photo and a jarring voice note."
If I actually bag her, don't go flipping out on me. A deal's a deal."
I booked the first flight out to confront him, only to catch the boy I loved naked and thrusting into another woman.
But that wasn't even the part that broke me.
When my roommate bypassed the hockey team's private Discord server, I found a channel named: #locker-room-bets.
There was my boyfriend, typing the words that shattered my world: "She's boring... She's like a lost puppy, you can't shake her... Play with her all you want."
My loyalty and two years of my life were nothing but a sick joke.
The entire hockey team had put money down on when I would willingly spread my legs for his best friend.

For five years, my crime boss husband made me take off my wedding ring nine times—all for his precious damsel in distress.

When we first married, he promised me: "From now on, you're my queen, the queen of New Orleans."

But whenever Brianna came crying for help, he'd change his tune: "Mr. Parker saved my life, Claire. I owe his family everything."

And like a fool, I believed him eight times.

Eight times I watched from the shadows as he took another woman to our favorite restaurants.

Eight times I explained to the crew that our "separation" was just giving each other space.

Eight times I watched her move into my bedroom, use my dishes, sleep in my bed.

All for a man who kept making me slip off my ring, then slide it back on, over and over again.

Until the ninth time, when he said he needed to provide sperm for her fertility treatment, and I offered to leave.

He still thinks this is just another temporary break, expecting me to come crawling back in a month like always.

He'll never know I've already booked my ticket out of here.

My husband and parents wanted me dead. All because my sister was "dying."

They shoved a divorce agreement and an experimental surgery consent form at me.

I was supposed to be her donor.

But they didn't know I was the one actually dying.

Three days ago, they told me I had terminal bone cancer.

One month to live.

So when they threatened me into some back-alley surgery, I smiled.

I was already dying anyway.

I donated a kidney to my adopted sister.

Seven days later, I lay on the cold hospital bed, listening to my fiancé and family laughing down the hall.

They were popping champagne to celebrate my adopted sister's discharge.

No one remembered I had just had surgery. No one remembered my nut allergy.

When someone handed me a plate of almonds, I smiled.

I shoved them into my mouth, handful after handful, and swallowed them down. Then I told them I was done fighting for their love.

My fiancé demanded I postpone our wedding. My brother beat me until I bled and locked me on the rooftop to die.

After being abandoned eighty-eight times, I finally learned how to love myself—by cutting everyone who failed me out of my life.

Sebastian is dead.

And I'm the prime suspect.

I thought Lucy was the only one on my side, but there's always panic in her eyes. Black stockings showing up in my closet, red marks on my wrists I can't explain, texts sent from my phone that I never wrote...

The evidence keeps piling up, choking me.

My memory's slipping, the same broken nightmares on repeat. Strange perfume, cruel words, and the name "Leah" that won't leave my head.

Who is lying? Who's pulling the strings?

I can't tell what's real anymore. All I know is everyone's lying to me.

I need to find who's behind this before it destroys me.

I've been married to my husband Jake for three years. In that time, I've been pregnant twice.

But each time, I lost the baby.

What took my children wasn't a medical condition, but a painting.

A black bird, painted by Jake's ten-year-old blind brother, Billy.

My in-laws claimed he had the gift—a psychic born with sight beyond sight. And the black bird was an omen. It marked my baby as cursed, a threat to the family.

To save my second child, I got the best amniocentesis report money could buy, proving the baby had no genetic defects.

It happened again anyway.

At three in the morning, I woke to the agony of another miscarriage and stumbled to the studio door.

That's when I found out the truth.

My aunt was terrified I'd end up with a human. So she arranged a marriage herself.

The groom? Kael Voss. Alpha heir to the most powerful pack on the East Coast.

I had a Moonstone Mate Necklace custom-made for the occasion. Global commission. A hundred and eighty thousand dollars.

The day I went to pick it up, it was snatched right out of my hands.

The woman who took it? Chloe Hart. Kael's so-called childhood best friend.

She looked me up and down like I was a stray dog that had wandered in off the street.

"A hundred and eighty grand? Sweetheart, you can't even afford the tax."

Then she told me to get on my knees. Right there, in front of the whole store. Scream three times, "I'm a worthless stray Omega and I know my place."

I didn't kneel.

I threw her own words right back in her face and put her on the floor with one kick.

That's when Kael walked in. My fiancé. The man I'd never met until that very moment.

And damn... he was gorgeous.

I'll be honest, I'm shallow. Always have been. That face hit every single thing on my list.

So I walked right up to him, gave him my sweetest smile, and said, "Hi. I'm Judy. Your fiancée."

My husband, Zachary, chose to save his sister-in-law right in front of the kidnappers.

The kidnapper pressed the gun to my temple and asked, "Choose your wife or your sister-in-law?"

Zachary didn't hesitate. "Let Valerie go," he said.

He actually chose to save his sister-in-law! In that moment, even the baby in my belly seemed to stop kicking.

Later, they locked me in the basement. Drugs to delay labor were pumped into my veins over and over. Zachary wanted to save the "firstborn son" status for his sister-in-law's child.

When warm blood finally soaked through my skirt, I dialed the number I knew by heart with shaking hands.

"Zachary," I whispered into the phone, "our child... can't wait any longer."

I never imagined that the most humiliating secret of my life would be laid bare in a flimsy tent in the middle of nowhere.

Even less did I imagine that the person witnessing my unraveling would be Sebastian. He’s the CEO of a top-tier conglomerate, my direct boss, and, most damningly, my ex’s stepfather.

A freak accident left us stranded in the jungle late at night. Inside that cramped, suffocating tent, the air felt scorching, almost unbearable. Worst of all, in my rush to leave, I’d forgotten to bring the medication that suppresses my “craving disorder.”

When that sickening desire surged through me like a tidal wave, when his body heat pressed against my back through his shirt, I could only bite my lip hard, teetering on the edge of shame and instinct.

“Mr. Blackwood, please… stay away from me.”

I died once.

In my last life, someone posted my photo on the company's anonymous forum, claiming I slept my way to the top.

The comment section exploded.

Colleagues whispered behind my back and pointed fingers.

A blurry video convinced everyone the woman in it was me.

I explained. I cried. I begged.

No one believed me.

The company forced me out. My parents kicked me out.

I walked to my death, condemned by everyone.

Then I opened my eyes.

Everything went back to the beginning.

The same post, the same accusation, the same man swearing in the comments he'd seen it all himself.

This time, I'm getting my revenge.

On my due date, my husband Russell locked me in an underground freezer at minus ten degrees.

The Pembroke family's unbreakable rule: the first-born male inherits the entire mafia empire. My sister-in-law Natasha and I were both pregnant, our due dates only one day apart. To ensure his brother's child was born first, Russell made this insane decision.

"My brother and Natasha's baby has to come first—this is what you owe them!" He ignored my desperate pleas and violent contractions, coldly shoving me into the freezer.

But that wasn't enough. They forcibly injected me with labor-delaying drugs. I curled up in agony on the freezing concrete floor, feeling my baby slowly slipping away, tears of despair streaming down my face.

My baby, Mommy is so sorry...

Everyone knows my husband is obsessed with me.

He's gone against the board for me, walked away from billion-dollar deals, dropped millions at charity galas. Everyone said I'd married into a fairytale. I believed it too.

Until the anonymous email.

In the photo, he was kissing a little girl's forehead—three years old, maybe four. He looked at her the way fathers do.

Three years of marriage. Countless failed IVF attempts. Then finally—I was pregnant.

I was about to tell him when his phone buzzed. He left immediately—for another woman and her child.

I was the only one who didn't know.

If the love was fake, if the marriage was fake—then I could disappear too.

In two days, the typhoon hits. My car will go off the cliff into the ocean. No one survives that.

I'll disappear from his world forever—me and the baby he doesn't know about.

I'm eight months pregnant, throwing up so violently I can taste bile, three "miracles" growing inside me.

Until that night at their celebration dinner, when I leaned against the wall and heard laughter from inside the private room.

I could hear the amusement in my husband Frank's voice: "Let's up the bet—another million. I'm betting two boys, one girl."

His mistress Ava giggled: "You already know the results."

"Of course," he said casually. "They're my children. Of course I know."

Then I heard it.

They talked about my womb like I was some kind of breeding machine.

They clinked glasses, debating "whose eggs were worth more."

They were even betting on "which baby would come out first."

And there I was, outside the door, my swollen feet barely holding up my aching, stretched body.

Inside, they were laughing and celebrating.

Celebrating their perfect little surrogate, carrying my husband's babies with his mistress.

Right then, the nausea just... stopped.

I just felt cold.

And slowly, a plan started forming in my head.

After Nicholas got engaged, his assistant handed me a plane ticket.

"Leave. Don’t ever show your face in Silverlight City again."

"Otherwise, Mr. Jackson has more than enough ways to ruin you."

All those years I spent by his side, I was admired by everyone, living in the spotlight.

Yet when I finally left, I was reduced to a pitiful, laughable sight.

I said, "Fine."

But that very night, the flight plunged from over thirty thousand feet in the air.

I’m Maria, thirty years old, my body like a forgotten vine, aching to be watered and revived. Once, I thought marriage was my safe harbor, but my husband—that useless bastard—not only left me unsatisfied in bed, he betrayed my heart, screwing around with another woman. My pussy has long been dry, yet desire burns in my chest, forcing me to flee that cold, empty home and seek refuge in the vineyards of Provence, desperate for a breath of life.

Here, I met Julian. That evening, under the grapevines, he fucked me hard. I know this is just the beginning. My body and soul will be reborn in this steamy affair.