112 Book(s) Related to auntie el's

I never expected to be branded a “fake heiress” and a “scheming bitch” on my own wedding anniversary.
“Did you really think we’d never find out you faked the DNA test?” My mother’s voice cut like a blade. “You’ve been impersonating our real daughter all along.”
The irony was suffocating. They were the ones who stormed into my peaceful life, insisting that I was their long-lost child—no proof needed. And now they dared to call me the fraud.
“Since Camille has finally returned to where she belongs,” my father declared coldly, “it’s time for you to crawl back into whatever shadow you came from.”
Then came the final blow. My husband of five years didn’t even hesitate.
“I’ll have the divorce papers drawn up immediately. Don’t make this difficult, Mirena. You were never meant to be my wife.”
Overnight, I was discarded. The scandal of the city. The woman who stole a life that was never hers.
But they forgot one thing: I never needed them.
Before I was George Ashton’s wife, I was Mirena Sterling—the Investment Queen. The woman who broke Wall Street records before she turned twenty-five. A racing champion. A tech prodigy.
I walked away from all of it. Gave up my empire. My crown. My name. All for a man who threw me away like garbage the moment someone “better” came along.
Big mistake.
On the night they cast me out, soaking wet and humiliated, I ran into the last person I ever wanted to see.
“Look at you now, Mirena,” Alexander Pierce murmured, watching me with those piercing eyes. “The woman who once ruled the financial world. Reduced to this.” He tilted his head. “And for what? Love?” A dark laugh. “Pathetic.”
My former rival. The man who spent years trying to beat me—and never once succeeded. Now he stood before me, a Wall Street titan, watching my downfall with hungry satisfaction.
He thought he’d seen the last of me.
He was wrong.
The game was simple now: drop the dead weight, reclaim what’s mine, and remind everyone why they feared my name.
Within months, I was back. Every market moved when I breathed. Every headline screamed my return. The Sterlings came crawling, begging for mercy they’d never shown me. And George? He watched in horror as I bought his most prized company without blinking.
The divorce he’d so eagerly signed? His greatest regret.
“Mirena, please,” he begged, groveling at my feet. “Give me another chance.”
I didn’t even look at him. “Sorry, darling. I don’t recycle trash.”
But what I didn’t expect was him.
Alexander Pierce dropped to one knee in front of me—the man who had once mocked my fall, now looking up with something raw and undisguised in his crimson gaze.
“I knew you’d take back everything they stole,” he said, voice low. “Now…” A slow, dangerous smile curved his lips. “Take me too.”

"I thought so too. You don't remember the safe word." Jaxon had a tone of mischief in his voice. His Hazel Green eyes burned her down to her soul.
Roxanne kept moving backwards till her back was against the wall.
"Please, I don't want to do this." She begs.
Jaxon is already very much aroused and the beast in his groin begs for release. Her begging only turns him on more. So innocent!
Roxanne knows she can't do anything now, so she decides to give in to him.
"Now that's what I want to see. Less struggle, more obedience. You're now my Pet . Now get on your knees." Jaxon orders.
Roxanne, a 24-year-old gymnast with heavy financial burdens, steps into the world of Club D'Lux, as an exotic pole dancer. Her first performance sparks a connection with Jaxon Hearst, the owner. When a fan gets too close, Jaxon helps her , revealing his true identity and making a shocking proposal as he's drawn to her beautiful and subtle nature. The hunger to possess her burns inside of him.
He offers Roxanne a risky deal; become his mistress, and he'll take care of her financial worries and cover her father's medical bills. But as she enters Jaxon's life, shedding his layers, she discovers his dark secrets and desires that push her boundaries.
As they engage in this consuming relationship, Roxanne finds herself trapped between her desire for Jaxon and her fear of his control. Can she tame his wild heart, or will their passion leave her in ruins?

Damien is the demon lord. The most feared creature in Ava land and no one dares cross him.

That's why meeting Alexa angered him to his core.

Alexa is an angel who was everything he despised. Bold, strong and beautiful.

An unexpected encounter makes this two opposites heart flutter each time they meet and make them both in need of a dire savior to set them free from the bondage of love which held them bound.


When they got outside, Alexa couldn't contain her anger anymore"Are you insane?!Why would you give Faren your ring?!"

"I had to protect you, Alexa! Did you hear what he said back there? He's just trying to use you to get to me"Damien held her hands shakingly"Please, don't marry him"

"So what? What if he's using me? Why would you give your 'Ring of authority' to him?! Don't you know how important this is?!"Alexa shouted raising up the ring.

"And I don't care. I would give up a whole lot more for you!"

Alexa looked away from Damien as tears formed in her eyes.

When she looked back at him, Damien was alarmed to see her in tears.

"W-Why are you crying?"Damien asked shakingly as he brushed her cheeks "Sh*t, I've done it again. I always find a way to make you cry, I'm sorry"

"Why do you keep making this difficult for me, Damien?"Alexa asked in tears"You wanted me to say the word? I love you too. I want to be with you so badly too"

Damien's eyes widened in shock. He didn't even realize that he was crying too.

Mark a billionaire, finally divorced his wife but finds it hard to be present for his daughter. Because of that, he requested for a nanny and Mia applied for it, irrespective of the challenges that she encountered on her way. And luckily for her, she got picked. Their lives changed from that very day.

I saw everything.
My husband, his pants down to his ankles, my best friend’s legs wrapped around his waist.
I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I went back to my table, drank until my heartbreak went numb, and made a decision.
I wanted out.
What I didn’t want was Donovan Buford—my ex’s friend, his most feared rival, the lawyer who never loses—showing up every single time my life fell apart.
He caught me when I stumbled drunk.
He broke down a door when Gary cornered me.
He handed me a job when I had nowhere to go.
I told myself he was just being decent.
Then I found out that the divorce I thought I’d fought for alone? He’d been orchestrating it for years.
So what exactly does Donovan Buford want from me?

I bite down on my lip to try and control my hatred for him as my stomach flips with contempt. "You aren't comfortable to sit on," I argue. "I won't be able to fall asleep on you." "Oh, but you are quite comfortable for me," He says, pleasure evident in his voice. His hands keep me pressed against his solid chest, sealing his command. "It is my bed that you sleep in, remember? You will sleep where I tell you to."


In the realm of the Fae, humans have two purposes when they are stolen; They are either bought as pets for the nobles, as my sister and I were, or they are kept as children for those who could not bear their own. Alice is lucky- she was purchased by a Seelie noble, who typically adopt human children as their own. I, however, was purchased as a pet by the bastard son of the Unseelie court, who find little other use for human children.

Harper spent ten years as Joel's perfect girlfriend... until he dumped her to boost his brand. Now Joel's getting married, and Harper's crashing his wedding on the arm of Crew Lawson, the one player Joel hates most. It's supposed to be fake: three months of PR revenge. But Crew's hiding a dangerous addiction, Harper's hiding real feelings, and Joel's hiding the truth about why he really left. Some fake relationships burn too hot to stay pretending.

He Thought I'd Wait Forever. I Wore White for Someone Else.

Nora canceled the wedding venue on a Tuesday. The deposit was nonrefundable. She let it go.
Eight years she'd held that stretch of coast — the cliff, the white tent, the January date they circled and let slide every spring. She slid the ring off at the kitchen counter and dropped it in the drawer with the dead batteries and old takeout menus. It didn't feel like heartbreak. It felt like setting down something she'd carried too long.
Adrian would find out. Not tonight. He still thought her silence was a thing to be coaxed out of. He still thought she'd always be there.
She'd already decided she wouldn't. By the time he understood, she'd be on that coast in a white dress — and the man beside her wouldn't be him.

Lydia Loveday is forced to transfer colleges mid-semester due to a traumatic event at her dream school. Little does she know, this school is exclusive to Werewolves, Vampires, and Magic-Users, and she's the only human amongst the student body... or so she thinks.
She is met by a BodyGuard that her wealthy father employed to keep history from repeating itself, except Adrian is much more than he seems. Aside from being a sexy Korean millionaire, Adrian is a Werewolf. Not just any Werewolf, however, but the rising Alpha of the largest Wolf Pack in North America. And, he isn't just her BodyGuard. It turns out that Adrian and Lydia are SoulMates, though it serves as a surprise to both of them.
As Lydia begins uncovering the truth about this College for the Supernatural, she also discovers hidden aspects of her own lineage that was kept secret, such as her father being an Alumni for a college that is hidden away in the mountains of Montana. Adrian keeps her plenty busy on top of all of her new discoveries, so her grades are the least of her concerns.

In my previous life, I chose the werewolf and gave birth to the Arbiter, only to be burned alive by the younger sister I loved most.
When I was reborn, I knelt before the Oath Stone, handed my marriage pact to her, and watched her gloat in triumph before choosing Sylas, the elf everyone else avoided.
Everyone was waiting to see me make a fool of myself—until the day of the wedding, when he came carrying a gown blessed by the Sacred Tree, lowered his eyes to me, and said, "In this life, I will never fail you."

I begged my mom for ten dollars, but she smashed my head with a frying pan instead.

The next day, my mother posted on a forum asking:
"Hi everyone. My eldest son lied about the end of the world just to get ten dollars. I want to ask, how can I sell him on the underground black market to pay off his younger brother's $20,000 debt?"

The moment I saw that post, any remaining love I had for them died instantly. I snapped my phone's SIM card in half.

What she didn’t know was that a world-ending acid flood would descend upon New York tomorrow.

I had begged so bitterly for that ten dollars just to trigger the Ten-Million-Fold Return System to build a three-billion-dollar Doomsday Ark.

Since she didn’t want it, I gave the throne of the Ark Queen to the female classmate who casually tossed me some charity.

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