183 Book(s) Related to ice home ruby dixon

I was Alessandro Romano's wife in name only—the mafia godfather of Belluno City.
We had the most extravagant wedding this city had ever seen: three thousand guests, flowers lining every street. Everything except a legal marriage certificate.
Over three years, he promised to sign the papers twenty-two times. He canceled every single one.
He would buy two identical necklaces, hanging one around my neck and the other around his mistress's, trading a night spent comforting her for a dismissive apology to me.
After the twenty-one broken promise, I stopped waiting.
I packed my bags and left for the one city he vowed never to enter.
What I didn't know: after I left, the man who ruled the underworld completely lost control.

To marry Vincent Romano, I survived twenty-eight near-death experiences over five years.
The first: city hall's foundation collapsed — three broken ribs. The second: a truck rollover — my right leg nearly amputated. The twenty-seventh: a chandelier in the bridal shop, three days unconscious.
All of Seren City laughed at me. Romano's most cursed bride-to-be. Yet I loved him still.
Until the twenty-eighth time.
When the bomb detonated outside city hall, I threw myself over Vincent on instinct. The blast shifted my organs and shredded my back. The day my stitches came out, I felt no relief at having survived.
Because I stood outside the study and heard his voice.
"Her organs were badly damaged. She almost actually died." Antonio's horror was audible. "Vincent, you used to treat her so well—"
"People change." A pause, then quieter: "I did want to marry her once. But before Amelia, I had no idea what it meant to truly want someone. I acknowledge the debt — I just can't spend my life repaying it." Another pause. "Father won't agree, and she won't let go easily."
"So." His voice turned to ice. "The only clean way out is to make her give up on her own. As long as Cassandra refuses to break the engagement, the accidents must continue. Until she walks away."

On the night of my 28th birthday, my husband was stuck in the OR.
The man sitting across from me at dinner was his best friend, Ronan.
I got drunk. Half-asleep, I pulled a man who smelled exactly like Nate into my bed.
When morning broke, the truth did too—the man pinning me down was Ronan. He’d used my husband’s cologne.
"From the first time I saw you, I wanted to steal you from him."
Crying, I confessed everything to Nate over the phone. Dead silence for three seconds, then he hung up.
By the time I rushed home, Ronan was dragging two suspiciously heavy black suitcases out the door. And my husband... vanished off the face of the earth.

Four months pregnant, I walked into the OB-GYN clinic filled with joy—this was the child Archer and I had waited three years for.
But the moment the ultrasound report was handed to him, his gentle gray eyes twisted violently.
"Abort it. We absolutely cannot keep this child."
My stepfather watched coldly. The stepbrother who doted on me most slapped me hard across the face. My own mother wielded the scalpel and removed my uterus.
Half a month later, they picked me up from the hospital with roses, only to turn around and lock me away, feeding me psychiatric drugs until I died.
Reborn, I thought that as long as I hid the report, I could save my baby.
But they forced me onto the operating table once again.
It wasn't until I saw the report with my own eyes—
That I finally understood why my child had to die.

"Swallow it all, baby. Be my good girl," Carson groans, his grip tightening in my hair as I kneel between his legs in the Rolls-Royce.

I'm Leah Walker, once a Stanford-educated heiress, daughter of Bayford's mayor. But when my mom was framed and imprisoned by corrupt bastards like Matthew Cole, I lost everything. To survive and plot revenge, I became the city's most expensive call girl—gathering secrets, leverage, and cash from powerful men who thought they controlled me.

Now, with a fake pregnancy, a staged murder, and alliances forged in the shadows, I'm dismantling the Cole empire piece by piece. Carson, the clueless son, is my pawn; Ethan, the dangerous casino king, my unexpected ally. But as bodies drop and truths ignite, will my quest for vengeance consume me—or set me free? In this twisted game of sex, lies, and power, I'm nobody's whore anymore.

They say true love makes a woman radiant. Noble. Beautiful.

But my marriage? It was a prison.

For seven years, I wore the shackles of "the perfect wife." I endured. I yielded. I bent over backward to keep the peace. Even when my husband banished me to the back row on our anniversary. Even when I watched him fawn over another woman right in front of me—I stayed silent.

I wanted to break free. I just didn't know how.

Then the yacht swayed, and my arm brushed against Theodore Sinclair.

He didn't pull away.

Neither did I.

When his fingers found mine beneath the blanket... when his voice dropped low against my ear and murmured, *"When we reach shore, I'll give you exactly what you want"*—

I was lost.

They say a woman who strays has no shame.

But when his lips met mine, I couldn't help wondering:

Is this it? Is this where my new life finally begins?

My name is Alessia Vitale, and I'm the unloved twin.

From the moment I was born, I was the "curse" while my sister Chiara was the "treasure." My parents' love, the family's pride—it all belonged to her. Until two years ago, when Rocco Benedetti, the most powerful man in Valentia, chose me. That was the only light in my life.

Then my sister came back from Europe.

She claimed I hired thugs to rape her, destroying her dream of motherhood. Rocco forced me to test deadly drugs in her place. I was sent to a mob boss's basement, taking her beatings, her burns, her broken ribs. My family shipped me off to an unmarked clinic, then left for a beach vacation.

No one knew I'd been poisoned—that I only had a month to live.

And no one knew that by the time they discovered the truth...

It would all be too late.

My adopted sister, Adriana, hit and injured Hadley Brooks—the prized mistress of Hartwell’s mafia boss, Dario Salvatore—and fled the scene.
Don Salvatore gave us exactly three days. And so, my husband and my parents all turned their eyes to me: Go take the fall for her. You always know how to fix things.
I agreed.
What they didn't know was that on that very same day, my doctor had given me my own deadline: I had, at most, three days left to live.

I spent five years waiting for a wedding, only to watch his first love move in—pregnant, sleeping in our master bedroom, wearing my wedding dress.

She said the baby was his. He believed her.

She said I pushed her. He believed her.

She said I was eaten up with jealousy. He believed her.

But me? He didn't believe a single word I said.

The day I tried on my wedding gown, gunfire erupted. My fiancé shielded her and ran, never once looking back. He forgot that the woman left behind in the line of fire was the one he was supposed to marry. In that moment, my heart turned to ash.

Then came the report from his men—

"Boss, we couldn't find Miss Celeste..."

And so, this cold-blooded mafia king finally learned what it felt like to lose something.

Too bad. Some things, once lost, are gone forever.

When my roommate Sutton woke up from a wet dream, she was literally glowing. She claimed it was the most mind-blowing romantic experience of her life—the man’s silhouette, his scent, his body heat felt impossibly real.
Even crazier? When she checked her phone, there was a strange new number saved in her contacts. It belonged to the man from her dream.
While the rest of us shrieked about destiny, our moody roommate Jessamine just stared at the screen and dropped a chilling warning: "Things that come looking for you in dreams should stay buried."
We all wrote her off as a jealous freak.
That is, until I started noticing Sutton’s face growing more haggard by the day—and the fact that her "perfect boyfriend" refused to speak a single word to her.

The car crash six months ago destroyed my body. I survive the agony only through the painkillers prescribed by my brother, Fletcher.
While shopping for my wedding dress, I simply swallowed a pill on schedule. My mother responded with a slap that made me spit blood. My father stormed in and kicked my ribs in without asking a single question.
I fled crying to my brother, only for him to grab me in disgust: "You are a disgrace to this family."
I called my fiancé. He rushed to the scene, took one look at the pill, and called the cops without hesitation: "The engagement is off. She makes me sick."
In just a few hours, I went from a bride-to-be to a death row inmate.
But as the gavel fell, I saw our family maid calmly swallow the exact same pill from the gallery…
I lunged at the railing, screaming at the judge. He leaned down, a chilling smile spreading across his face: "Linnea, this is all because…"

The night my sister, Quinn, got her registered nurse license was supposed to be Jude's big moment—down on one knee, proposing.
Instead, Garrett showed up. The same animal who assaulted Quinn in the redwood forest six years ago and drove our mother to her death in the ocean.
Her future mother-in-law took back the ring on the spot, and her fiancé trailed after her like a kicked puppy.
The entire town of Hawkins went from pity to disgust when they looked at us.
Seven days later, the deputy sheriff stood in my kitchen, staring at the twenty-second batch of bubbling meat sauce...

Lysander’s ex-girlfriend, Evangeline, suggested a hiking trip. Out of obligation to me as his fiancée, he brought me along.
We got lost in the woods and trespassed onto the territory of his half-brother, Orion.
When Orion pointed a gun at us and forced him to choose—
In my past life, he chose me.
As a result, Evangeline was sold to a rival, Matthias, and was tortured to death. I spent the rest of my life bearing the full weight of Lysander’s hatred.
In the third year of our marriage, I lay in a hospital bed after a miscarriage. He stood coldly beside me and said, "Now you know how it feels to lose the love of your life."
Reborn into this life, as Orion’s gun points at me and Evangeline once again, I make the choice for him.
I’m leaving the chance to survive to his true love.

On my first day back in the country after studying abroad, my mother sent me to my fiancé’s company. I was to work low-profile as a secretary, just to slowly cultivate our relationship.
The moment I stepped into the office, a domineering woman started ordering me around, demanding I fetch her coffee.
I endured it.
That was until she deliberately spilled the coffee all over me. Only then did I realize that this woman—running amok in my fiancé’s company and treated like a queen by everyone—was his mistress.

That "poor pregnant woman" downstairs is currently waddling around Linden Court with her forty-week baby bump, sobbing to the neighbors. She claims the noise of me screwing men in the middle of the night is so loud it's killing her unborn baby.
In my past life, no one in this building believed me. In the end, she used a pair of rusty pruning shears to pin me, dead, to my own living room floor.
Reborn into a new life, I stare at the bulletin board where my face is crossed out with red marker, and I let out a cold laugh.
This time, I absolutely refuse to be the idiot who gets stabbed to death.

On our fifth anniversary, Caspian gifted me a luxury yacht bearing my name. Everyone said I was the luckiest woman alive.
But when I finally conceived his child and prepared to share the news, his mistress sent me photos—him cradling a baby she'd given him, his eyes filled with a tenderness I'd never seen.
Five years of waiting, five years of infertility—all an elaborate lie.
He once whispered in my ear: "Even if every man in the world betrays his wife, I never will. You're my life. Without you, I can't survive."
I quietly packed, left behind my pregnancy report and all the evidence, and drove away. Three hours later, he received the call: my car exploded on the highway. No survivors.
From that day on, the most powerful man in Valen City lost his mind completely.

Two years ago, my best friend Maddie knelt in front of me, crying as she borrowed $50,000.
The very next day, she vanished off the face of the earth. No explanation, no apology, not even a single text message.
I was left carrying her toxic debt. I lost my fiancé, and I lost my ability to trust anyone.
Until one late night, a call came in from an unknown number originating in an abandoned mining district in West Virginia.
On the other end of the line, Maddie said she was getting married. She had the money ready—every last cent.
The wedding venue was a ruined church deep in the mountains, abandoned for a decade. The time: Friday, midnight.

When he found out I’d injured my leg and couldn't scrub in to deliver the billionaire's baby tomorrow, my boyfriend’s first reaction wasn't concern. He gritted his teeth and snapped, "Hannah, you did this on purpose, didn't you? Why today of all days? Are you really throwing away your entire career just to spite me?!"
I didn't argue. I just stared at the medical chart labeled Eleanor Whitlock, my fingers trembling.
In my past life, I took this assignment. I was drugged and locked in a supply closet. A few hours later, the mother and baby were dead—and the security footage showed a nurse with my face poisoning them. I died in a damp prison cell, branded a murderer.
Reborn into this life, I just wanted to escape this fatal trap.
But somehow, the security cameras had once again captured "me" walking into that delivery room.

I am the Seer of the wolf pack, the Alpha’s wife, yet I have never truly known love.

My parents called me a bastard; my sister stole everything from me, even my husband’s heart.

Now, she blinds herself and frames me, forcing me to give up my own eyes.

No one knows that when a Seer loses her sight, she dies.

I thought that making the ultimate sacrifice would finally earn me a shred of affection. But even as I lay dying on the operating table, they gathered around my sister, laughing.

Only when the truth came out did they realize—I was their real daughter, and my sister was the one who schemed to take everything from me.

But by then, it was far too late.

On our sixth wedding anniversary, my husband Jonathan brought his dead ex-girlfriend's sister into our home — despite my objections.

"Beatrice, are you even human? You can't even show compassion to a dying woman! How could someone so cold-hearted be a role model for Oliver!"

My son — the boy I'd raised for six years — swung his little fists at me and screamed: "Beatrice! If you don't let Isadora stay, I'll never speak to you again!"

That was the moment my heart turned to stone.

I signed the divorce papers and walked straight back into the courtroom — clawing my way back to the top.

Then they discovered her lies. Every. Single. One.

Jonathan fell to his knees before me, eyes red and brimming with tears: "Beatrice, do six years of marriage mean nothing to you anymore?"

My son clung to my legs, sobbing: "Mommy! Mommy, don't go! I know I was wrong! Mommy—"

I looked down at them. I felt nothing.

"Now take your mistress and your son — and get out of my life."

I turned and walked away without looking back.

His last bounty is a fast paced, engaging and immersing good read. If you like plot twist and 'oh no, they didn't' this is the book for you! There is also something for everyone to connect with on some level. Whether it's the stressed out professional, a self tortured, alpha male, a psychopath or, a jolted ex-lover. And the list goes on- readers will identify with one of them. The book also has a romantic heart. It is one for the hopeless romantic for sure, though the Leads path isn't always easy they wind up living their dream. I also intend for there to be a follow up book to His Last Bounty. It will follow there as she becomes alpha which gives the readers a chance to get invested in the family and their future.

I'm Sophie White, an orphan who was arranged to marry Bay City's most powerful devil—the ruthless, dangerous, and devastatingly handsome Adam Foster.

"Adam, please..." I whimpered as his touch set my body aflame. From the bathroom to his massive bed, he claimed me relentlessly until dawn, leaving me breathless and burning with desire.

But beneath our passionate nights lurked a terrifying reality. My fairy tale marriage became a nightmare of obsession and control. He monitored my every move, threatened my unborn child, and kept me prisoner in his golden cage.

Everything changed the night he led me to his secret basement—a chamber of horrors where his own father had tortured him for five years. As I stared at the chains and shadows of his past, I finally glimpsed the broken soul behind those cold eyes.

Was this vulnerability real? Or was I falling deeper into the trap of Bay City's most dangerous predator?

Just when I thought I knew all his secrets, I discovered something that would shatter both our worlds forever...

"Please, no—stop!" I begged, but Alexander just snarled, pinning my wrists above my head as he rammed his throbbing cock into my slick, unwilling pussy, stretching me wide with brutal force. "Fuck, you're so tight, you dirty little whore—take every thick inch!"

I'm Nora Frost—wait, Nora Traynor—sold like a cheap commodity by my greedy parents for $100 million to Alexander Claflin, Kingsley City's savage billionaire beast. Post-wedding, he uncovered my secret pregnancy and detonated: labeling me a cum-slut, and snarling demands to slaughter the "bastard spawn" in my womb.

The bombshell? That baby was his—conceived in our filthy, passion-fueled one-night fuckfest. He melted, worshipping me with desperate love, vowing an eternal family... until a car crash erased only me from his memory—every trace of Nora, our child, our love—while he recalled everyone else. Cue his manipulative ex, Vivian Brooks, slinking in like a venomous snake.

And I caught them mid-fuck: "Oh fuck, Alexander, pound me harder—deeper!" she wailed, "Yes! Fill me up, baby—make me scream!" "FUCK YES! I'M CUMMING!" she shrieked, his roaring climax spilling into her as they collapsed in tangled ecstasy.

Devastated, I fled. Five years later, I return with our son—a mini-Alexander, with piercing green eyes and dark hair. When he spots the boy, realization dawns: this isn't simple. As buried truths erupt and Alexander hunts me with obsessive fury, one scorching question ignites: Will our rekindled fire heal us... or destroy everything?

The most humiliating moment of my early life was when my father drove my mother and me out of our home. From a pampered heiress, I fell to the depths of a bar hostess. It was there that I encountered a man I would never forget for the rest of my life. After a one-night stand, I accepted his proposal—who could refuse someone they had admired for so long?

I thought I'd found redemption, but it turned out the pregnancy was a misdiagnosis! From then on, Raymond offered me nothing but money and sex. In this loveless marriage, I endured five years. Just when I thought my life would remain this way forever, he brought a little boy home.

Watching my stepsister's smug smile, my world crumbled. "Raymond, let's get a divorce!"

Three years ago, as Luna Gray, I secretly seduced Gabriel Ashford—heir to a powerhouse family—luring him into a scorching underground fling during our college days in Vale City. For three wild months, our passion burned hot and hidden, until I dumped him cold, leaving him reeling.

Now, I'm engaged to the Anderson family's polished gentleman—a strategic move that ignites Gabriel's explosive return from London. He's back in Vale City, transformed into a ruthless financial kingpin with the infamous "Big Cannon" nickname (earned from his handsome, towering build and the swirling rumors of his enormous dick—though only I know the truth: it's huge, and it wrecked me every time, pushing me to the brink of ecstasy I could barely endure).

Our secret past detonates, shocking Vale City's elite circles. Everyone braces for revenge from the ice-veined CEO, popcorn in hand. Instead, a viral video leaks: me straddling him in his top-tier ride on a foggy roadside, his dark eyes stormy as he grips my hips, slamming me against the steering wheel. We're grinding hard, my nails digging into his shoulders while he growls, "Feel how you own this cock, Luna? Beg for it." But in a heartbeat, he crumbles—eyes red, voice breaking: "Baby, I fucked up. Please, love me again?"

Everyone knew Kieran Blackwood was the most dangerous man in this city—mafia boss, hands stained with blood.

And I, Aurelia Fairmont, the rebellious heiress, was his dirty little secret.

Every night, he'd pin me beneath him, claiming me with that rough whisper against my ear: "You're mine. Always." That possessive hunger made me believe I meant something to him.

Until she came back.

When danger struck, he didn't hesitate for a second. He dove for her, shielding her body with his own.

I was just his plaything while he waited for her return. A toy that could moan.

When she stole my mother's heirloom, he didn't just refuse to help—he locked me in his basement and tortured me for seven days and nights. That's when I finally saw the truth.

The day I left, I didn't look back.

What I didn't know was that after I left, the man went insane...

"I love you, Caitlin," he murmurs against my neck, his breath coming in hot, ragged bursts as his hands explore my body, setting every nerve alight with raw, desperate need. But which one is it tonight—Daniel with his soft, lingering touches, Ryan's brutal grip that leaves bruises blooming on my hips, or Patrick's powerful thrusts that own me completely?

I'm Caitlin Morrison, a cutthroat lawyer juggling three men who thought they had the upper hand. At first, they treated me like a toy: Daniel, my old friend, turning our cozy mornings into no-strings convenience; Ryan, the wild rocker, owning my body in sweaty, primal nights of pure animal lust; and Patrick, my domineering boss, turning illicit office hookups into his private thrill, leaving me spent and craving more. They figured they could fuck me and forget the feelings, tossing them aside like yesterday's trash.

But I turned the tables, hooking them deep until they were the ones obsessed, realizing too late—they were my playthings, addicted and pleading for my mercy.

I stayed in this city for Dorian, pushed my way into his company, and saved every penny for three years just so we could build a home together.
But an anonymous flash drive shoved a video of him cheating in our bed right into my face. The next day, a promotion announcement handed the position I’d bled for to the very woman who seduced him.
With my dignity crushed to dust, I had only one person left to rely on—my gentle, almost obsessively devoted stepbrother, Ambrose.
He promised to make those scumbags tear each other apart. He promised Dorian would crawl back to my feet like a dog.
He offered me a "secret recipe" with immediate results.
I expected a deeply satisfying revenge. I never imagined what that so-called recipe actually was...

The remote vacation villa was saturated with suffocating male testosterone.
Deep in the night, my life-saving suppressants inexplicably vanished. The moment the drugs wore off, my unspeakable secret—my sex addiction—unleashed its most violent, lethal backlash in history.
What was even more fatal was that, through a twisted twist of fate, the man I was forced to share a room with tonight was my stepbrother, renowned for his absolute abstinence and cold, iron-fisted ruthlessness.
I thought that once my embarrassingly out-of-control, in-heat state was exposed, he would treat me like a monster and kick me away in disgust.
But I never expected—
This aloof man, who usually wouldn't even spare me a glance, now carried an irresistible, scorching aggression, ruthlessly sliding his large, rough hand straight up my thoroughly soaked panties...

My mad mother, in her final moments, pressed a set of Russian nesting dolls into my arms.
"These cost me thirty years of my life. In return, they'll give you three ways out of death."
The first doll told me to go to a bar and bring home the third strange man I met.
The second doll, she said to open on the eve of my wedding. There was no note inside. Only a photograph — my groom, killing a woman wearing the exact same wedding dress as mine.
Three years later, on the eve of another wedding, I opened the last doll. I read the note, smiled, and dropped it in the trash.
It was only later that I understood —
This mad woman saw more clearly than anyone sane in this world.
Mom, I'm sorry.

In the southern summer, the air hung heavy with the scent of overripe peaches.
Yet that cloying sweetness couldn't mask the near-frenzied hunger of women crowding Grandma's shop—pushing, shoving, desperate for a slice of peach pie priced at ten thousand dollars.
I never understood why this tiny shop drove countless women into such frenzy, even to their knees, begging.
Until that summer night, when Auntie slipped into the basement.
Through the darkness came her muffled moans, mingled with strange wet sounds...

I've been reborn, transported back to the day I gave birth to my daughter.

In my past life, I humbled myself for love, only to be betrayed by my husband Caspian and his mistress Serafina.

They disfigured me, murdered my little girl, and threw me in prison.

This time around, I'm divorcing him without a second thought, holding my daughter close, and escaping this living hell!

I divorced the same man nine times.
The first eight times, I was the one sobbing, begging him not to go.
The ninth time, I was the one who slid the papers across the table.
He signed them, then told me we'd remarry once she left.
I said okay.
What he didn't know was that my flight was already booked.
This time, I was leaving for good.

My name is Nora Monroe. Thirty-two weeks pregnant, ready to pop anytime.
This morning, my husband Everett left town, leaving me and my cat, Piper, alone at home.
Deep into the night, a strange woman called. Her voice was gentle, apologetic—she said my cat Piper had somehow wandered downstairs. She was severely allergic to cat dander and couldn't bring her up to me. I grabbed my coat, ready to head down, when the baby suddenly gave me a vicious kick. The pain sent me collapsing back onto the sofa, unable to move.
The woman on the phone urged me over and over. I looked up, my eyes falling on the corner of the living room.
Piper was sitting right there, staring unblinkingly at me...

Married to Declan Hargrove for three years, I kept my past locked away tight. I let no one near Greybell, and I never, ever mentioned the name Calloway.
Until Piper excitedly dug up the "incest scandal" between me and my own brother. The Hargrove family booked their flights that very night, vowing to fly to Greybell and tear my "white-trash" parents to shreds.
I knelt on the carpet, shaking and sobbing.
But hiding behind the curtain of my long hair, no one saw the truth. I wasn’t begging for my own life.
I was begging for theirs.
Because my brother, Reid, had already gotten the news. He was in Greybell right now, preparing an unforgettable "feast" for our arrogant guests.

During routine rounds, I never gave Linus Crewe a second thought. Nineteen years old, diagnosed with persistent hallucinatory disorder, just another trust fund kid tossed into the psych ward like garbage by his own family.
But that day, he locked eyes with me and claimed that the moment his skin touched someone else's, he could see their deepest, darkest secrets.
I scoffed. As a female doctor who married into money, harbored a thirst for revenge, and kept a secret lover on the side, someone seeing through my facade was my ultimate nightmare.
I thought he was just playing mind games.
Until he recounted, word for word, things even my husband didn't know. He just smiled and said: Then tell me, Dr. Hollister... why is your heart racing when you look at me?

I got off work two hours early, hoping to surprise my boyfriend whom I had just bailed out for $30,000.
I pushed the bedroom door open. The surprise was on me—my stepsister Chloe was straddling Dorian. The same man who, just three days ago, sat crying on the police station floor swearing "I only have you," now slowly lit a cigarette and asked if I wanted to join them.
I thought that was the worst moment of my life.
I was wrong.
When the hand that had just been caressing Chloe gripped my throat and hoisted me into the air, I finally saw the truth. Dorian Vane, the guy who humiliated me at our high school prom ten years ago, hadn't changed at all.

In my first life, blinded by greed, I claimed to be that mysterious woman. Silas glanced at my left shoulder and said coldly, "No butterfly tattoo." His bodyguards dragged me to the backyard and shattered my ribs with a baseball bat.
In my second life, Cleo learned from my mistake. She got the butterfly tattoo at an underground parlor. But Silas lifted her skirt and sneered, "No birthmark on her inner thigh." We were thrown into the frozen lake behind the mountain.
"Find her. She's in the West Wing." Silas Brennan's cold command echoed through the Brennan Estate again. Cleo and I locked eyes, terror gripping us.
We were the only maids in the West Wing.

As the heiress to the Sinclair family, I inherited billions, yet a car crash left my legs completely paralyzed, confining me to a cold wheelchair for the rest of my life.
My husband, Dashiell, spent three years meticulously caring for me—pushing my chair, feeding me my meds, and holding me as I slept.
That evening, while I was soaking in a warm bath, he pushed the door open. His handsome face carried that familiar smile: "Honey, can I... have you in the tub?"
"I'm a bit tired today," I rubbed my temples and softly declined. "Carry me out."
The moment the words left my lips, his smile twisted hideously. With a vicious sneer, he grabbed my neck and shoved my head brutally underwater...

I was taking six-year-old Arabella to fit her dress for the theater's grand opening.
As we crossed the intersection, a truck suddenly lost control and T-boned our car.
When I opened my eyes again, an agonizing pain ripped through me. I opened my mouth to call out Everett's name, only to hear his hushed voice seeping through the crack in the door—
"Staging an unavoidable accident was the only way to use the emergency room as a cover for the drug trial."
"Now that Ophelia's treatment is a success, there's naturally no need for that little bastard to live."
My Arabella. She was secretly wheeled into the operating room by him, used as a human guinea pig for his mistress Delilah's daughter, who had bone cancer. Her sweet, bell-like vocal cords were cruelly carved out and transplanted into another child's throat.
In that defining moment, I realized he had never loved my daughter.
But what he didn't know—the child he just murdered with his own hands was his one and only flesh and blood.

Eight years of marriage. Fluent in seven languages. Yet I never dared speak a word in front of my husband.

He claimed to be allergic to my voice—hearing me talk gave him headaches, ringing ears, made his whole body ache.

To change my voice, I underwent four vocal cord surgeries. My voice became hoarse, rough as sandpaper scraping concrete. But no matter how hard I tried, he still clutched his ears in pain.

For eight years, I blamed myself. I thought I was the one dragging him down.

Until our anniversary, when our daughter casually yanked off his "hearing aid" and tossed it on the couch.

I picked it up and put it in my ear. What I heard was my cousin Freya's flirtatious voice, and his tender response.

That moment, I finally understood—

No matter what I did, all this man ever wanted from me was silence.

Siren's Reef only breeds women.
On this isolated island, Henrietta's orphanage takes in all fatherless girls. She raises us until our eighteenth birthday—the night of the "Coral Crowning," an annual coming-of-age ritual that supposedly earns the Sea God's blessing.
My sister Saffron and I are identical twins, raised wearing the exact same face.
But on this island, the same face doesn't spell the same fate. She was the one Henrietta spoiled from birth; I was the one allowed to trail behind her.
I thought it would always be this way. Until she died. Henrietta claimed Saffron broke the rules and was flayed alive by the serrated edges of the reef. But that day, I saw it with my own eyes: Saffron's signature dimple had appeared on Henrietta's cheek—where none had been before.

My billionaire lover brought out a bespoke mermaid gown, declaring he would marry whoever could fit into it.
But in my past four lives, every woman who tried it on—whether an ambitious imposter or me, his true love—was brutally tortured and murdered by him.
In my fifth rebirth, the butler knocked on our door with a polite smile, "Mr. Voss says his true love is among you."
Since we four women would die no matter who wore it...
We exchanged a look in the dead silence, turned our heads in perfect unison, and locked our eyes onto the only man in the room.

Our clan worships the Spider Goddess.
To keep this face, every girl in our bloodline must sacrifice a truly evil man every ten years.
Just two weeks before my twentieth birthday, my mom asked me again over the phone:
"Sweetie, is it really that hard to find a sufficiently bad guy in a place like Ashfield?"
Right now, I’m looking at my boyfriend, who just handcuffed me to a bed. He’s laughing, negotiating a price with a buyer, thinking I’m tonight’s merchandise.
I think to myself—
Mom, I can answer your question now. This guy’s wickedness easily rivals your husband's—my father.

Three years of marriage. Three pregnancies.

Every time I confirmed I was pregnant, my sister-in-law Ophelia would walk into the chapel behind the manor.

Then my in-laws would drag me to the hospital and force me to abort the healthy baby.

The night after my third miscarriage, I dragged my weakened body to follow her into the chapel.

The moment I pushed open that door, my blood ran cold.

In that instant, I finally understood why my three children had to die.

⚠️TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️
This story contains mature themes, including consensual BDSM, power exchange, and adult language. It is intended for mature audiences (18+).
Some scenes may be intense or triggering for certain readers.

This is a fictional work, not intended to offend or misrepresent any person, culture, or country.

Blurb:
Freya is a gifted surgeon known and loved by everyone in the hospital where she works. one night, her life is thrown into chaos when two bloodied men, hours apart, crashed into her world, demanding her skills... and both hiding deadly secrets.
In a world where everyone plays dirty and secrets, can kill, Freya must choose her heart or avoid both calamity.

Rejected by her husband. Betrayed by her own family. Given away to a monster.
Ella Davis devoted her life to her pack and the man she loved, only to be falsely accused, humiliated, and cast aside like she meant nothing. As punishment, she is forced into a marriage with the feared Demon Prince of the BloodMoon Pack — Prince Vernon, a man whispered to be cursed, a ruthless prince surrounded by death and terrifying rumors. They say every bride he takes dies before sunrise. They say he is not fully wolf. They say he is a demon. Ella is certain she has been sent to her death. But after entering BloodMoon Palace, she discovers a shocking truth beneath Vernon’s cold and merciless mask. The terrifying prince who makes even Alphas tremble protects her in ways she never expected. And the more time she spends with him, the more dangerous her feelings become. Because Vernon is hiding dark secrets. Deadly powers. And a darkness inside him that even he cannot fully control. Now Ella is trapped between fear and desire, surrounded by enemies who want her dead. But the greatest danger of all may be falling in love with the very monster destined to destroy her.

The legends say that The Moon Goddess, Selene, will choose a human female to be the keeper of the werewolf secrets. This woman won't know what she has until she meets her fated mate and is marked. Even though she and her mate are unaware of the power she holds, others in the supernatural world know that the legend is true when everything begins to change on the day of her birth. These people will search everywhere for her and her fated mate. Not only is she the keeper of the secrets, but she's something that no one has ever seen, and killing her won't be as easy as they think.


Hailey is living on the streets in Las Vegas and is desperate to earn money just so she can get something to eat. She decides to accept a job that she never thought she'd do. She becomes a prostitute at a local brothel. Her first customer is Dante, who is also a virgin and a werewolf.

Neither of them knows the power they hold and that others will try to stop their mating to keep their secrets locked up. Thrown into a world that she knew nothing about, Hailey holds the key that can empower or break the supernatural world.

Sienna is the last remaining female alpha. She was put into power when her mother was killed by King Harlan due to his vendetta against all female alphas. Sienna knows what she has to do to defeat the king but she is not expecting other people more powerful than King Harlan to want more than her life. With the help of her mate and many other unique people who join the pack Sienna prepares for several battles.

This book is filled with drama, romance and fantasy.

Annabella is a witch from the most powerful coven in the world. When she is poisoned and loses her memory, she finds herself in a cabin in the middle of nowhere. She has no idea who or what she is.

Kamryn is the crowned tiger prince whose parents are forcing him into an arranged mating with someone he does not know. One day he is out running when he's attacked and left for dead. Whatever the ones who attacked him used made his shifter abilities useless.

Anna finds the large handsome man in the forest not far from her cabin. She helps him to her home so she can try and heal his wounds. They become close, and when Kamryn is well enough to return to the palace, he wants to take Anna with him to be his mate.

Will Anna and Kamryn be able to mate with each other despite the arrangements that have already been made?

Will those who tried to harm each of them be successful in eliminating them to get what they want?

This book is filled with drama, romance, and lots of twists.