3118 Book(s) Related to charlene i never been to me

The third girl knelt between his legs, planting slow, teasing kisses across his abs, their warm breath mixing with the haze of smoke in the room.

The dim, colored lights bathed their bodies in a sultry glow, and the pounding music created a rhythmic beat to their movements.

Damian’s head lolled back lazily as he took a drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling seductively around him. He exhaled slowly, his eyes half-lidded with pleasure and disinterest, as if none of this was new to him.

The door suddenly creaked open.

"Ugh, what the hell is this?!" a startled female voice pierced through the music.

"Tell me, Miss Robin, when was the last time you disappointed someone who trusted you?"

The question hung in the air like a loaded weapon. My hands trembled beneath the mahogany table as I stared into the cold, green eyes of the CEO. He wasn't just my interviewer. He was Leonard Conti—the man I had destroyed four years ago.

"I... I believe everyone makes mistakes," I whispered, my voice barely audible in the silent boardroom.

He leaned back, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "Mistakes? Is that what you call finding your girlfriend half-naked with your best friend on prom night?"

The other interviewers gasped, shifting uncomfortably, but Leonard didn't break eye contact. He was enjoying this. He held my resume like it was a piece of trash he couldn't wait to discard. I needed this job to save my family from bankruptcy, and he knew it. He knew he held my entire future in his hands, just like I once held his heart before I crushed it.

"Here is my offer," he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper that sent shivers down my spine. "You can walk out that door now and never come back. Or you can stay, work for me, and face my wrath."

I looked at the man who used to look at me with love, now looking at me with pure hatred. I had no choice.

"I'll stay," I said.

"Good," Leonard replied, his eyes darkening. "Then let the nightmare begin."

Amelia is starting high school with her best friend Lola — confident, magnetic, fearless Lola — the girl who makes the world feel manageable. While Amelia juggles grief, an absent father, and the heavy responsibility of raising her younger brothers, Lola is her escape. Her courage. Her voice. The version of herself she wishes she could be.
But when a body lies at Amelia’s feet, and her hands are covered in blood that isn’t hers, one question echoes louder than the rest:
How did it come to this?
As the school year unfolds, cracks begin to show — in friendships, in family, and in Amelia’s own mind. The lines between loyalty and control blur. Between truth and perception. Between who she is… and who she thinks she needs to be.
Because some friendships don’t just shape you.
They consume you.
And when the illusion shatters, there’s always something left behind.

She has loved him all her life, she married him to save him from his vicious girlfriend but all she got in return was hatred and mistreatment from him and his girlfriend, when she couldn't endure anymore she did what he has always wanted, she signed the divorce papers

Two years later, she's back with three gorgeous sons and was now a Zillionaire, her husband knelt before her at the airport

"Please forgive me wifey"

"Ex.." She remarked.

For Renata, the world of the rich is a place where she will never belong, as everyone, without exception, as self-centered, mean, rude, overbearing, cheating and wicked.
When she leaves the country, she starts working for one of the biggest companies in the world, and although she hates herself for feeling this, she can't keep the bold Italian out of her thoughts, she can't control her heartbeat let alone the butterflies in her stomach every time he's around.
She tries not to want him for 3 reasons:
1 - He is rich.
2 - He is her boss, and
3 - She finds the behavior of this Italian tycoon very suspicious.
The more she tries to stay away, the more he insists on getting closer.
Between them, which will speak louder: love or reason?

Synopsis

Nineteen-year-old orphan Ethan built everything from nothing — three years of pizza deliveries, a cheap suit, and one promotion away from a decent life. Then his girlfriend chose his childhood bully over him, a bullet ended up in his chest, and he was dumped on the pavement like garbage.

He should have died.

Instead, he woke up with a system that turns real money into power, dungeons into opportunity, and patience into revenge.

Lawrence Luther doesn't know what's coming and nobody else does too.

But Ethan has always been good at building things quietly — and this time, he's building something that cannot be taken from him.

Stealing from rich men was never personal…It was how Maya survived.

For years, she has lived by three simple rules: never use her real name, never get attached, and always disappear before sunrise. It's the only way she's managed to keep a roof over her head while raising her fifteen-year-old sister after escaping the family that abandoned them.

Then one reckless night changes everything….
After a one-night stand with a captivating stranger, Maya slips out of his luxury suite with a wallet full of cash and a designer watch, convinced she'll never see him again.

She's wrong.

The man she robbed is Xavier Lockwood, the feared heir to one of America's most powerful mafia families…a man who never forgets a face and never lets anyone walk away owing him.
Within hours, Maya is dragged into Xavier's world. Escape becomes impossible and every attempt to outsmart him only pulls her deeper into a life she never wanted, while the man determined to make her pay slowly becomes the one person capable of lowering every wall she's spent years building.

Just as Maya begins to believe there might be something real between them, Xavier's father arrives with the woman chosen to become the future Mrs. Lockwood.

Maya knows her. She could recognize that smile anywhere….the voice, the cruelty hidden behind perfect manners.
The woman chosen to become his wife is the very stepsister Maya swore she would never see again…the same family she swore she'd never go back to.

Now she's trapped under the same roof as the man she's falling for, the people who shattered her childhood, and a future that was never meant to include her.

Will Xavier choose the woman his family promised him...Or the thief who stole far more than his money?

Ava Duval gave up everything for love. She left a promising fashion career and poured five years of her life into building a multimillion-dollar empire from the bottom with her husband by her side.

She was a bubbly woman until she lost her children during delivery, and out of her husband's love, or so she thought, he adopted twins for her, and she raised them as her own.

She was blessed to have a supportive husband and did not hesitate to give him her kidney when she heard that he was terribly ill. She gave him pieces of herself until the truth surfaced.

Her pregnancy had been purposely sabotaged; the children were never adopted but are her husband's blood, borne by his mistress, and the kidney she had donated never went to her husband.

She realizes too late that she sacrificed everything for a man whose heart was with another woman. Now, she has to rebuild herself with the scars she has gotten from marriage.

Will she forgive him, claim her revenge for every cruel thing that has been done to her, or pick up the pieces and move on? Or will she do all three until her heart is finally satisfied?

I was the most pathetic existence on campus.

Thick glasses, baggy sweaters, walking through the cafeteria like crossing a minefield. Albert, my childhood crush of three years, publicly mocked me as "a pathetic little dog following him around." Campus queen Madison crushed me under her heel. That rainy night, I gave up completely and swore to make them all pay.

Three months later, I returned.

Bronze skin, perfect curves, stunning hair—the entire campus was buzzing about this "mystery goddess." No one recognized that I was once the pathetic Molly Baker.

When Albert discovered the truth, it was too late. The man standing beside me shocked the entire school.

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

Have you ever been treated like a stand-in for your dead sibling by your own mother? I have.

Have you ever been murdered by your own mother? I have.

My name is Aira, and today is my sister Lily's birthday. It's also the anniversary of my death—the day the washing machine became my coffin.

"Why couldn't it have been you who died?"

After four long years, my mom finally got her wish.

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

On my wedding anniversary, I died a brutal death, drained of every drop of blood by my husband’s socalled “sacred snow ferret”. That creature was Sylvia, his longdead true love striving for rebirth. For three long years, I was nothing more than a disposable blood vessel. Even my own son betrayed me for hollow, false affection.
Given a second chance at life, I cast aside all foolish mercy. I watched coldly as my hypocritical mage husband and traitorous son doted on the ferret, and documented every one of their heinous crimes.
I turned his longawaited reunion into a boneandflesh feast.
When the Templar tribunal finally arrived to pass judgment, I broke free from the cage of my old life and stepped out toward my own boundless freedom.

I make a living solving cold cases, earning just enough to get by.
Until I saw my long-time crush on the latest corpse.
He used to be an unreachable light, but now he's the deepest darkness before my eyes.
At this moment, he stands across from me, eyes full of innocence, asking for my help, saying he loves me.
Should I arrest him, or trust him?

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

I thought I had finally found love.

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

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

My hand froze mid-air above the doorknob.

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

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

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

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

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

[Florence Academy of Fine Arts — Exchange Program Confirmation]

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

Three years ago, on a night when it wouldn't stop raining, I carried Victor Caster out of a pile of bodies.

He'd taken two bullets. He grabbed my ankle and said: when I get back, I'll give you the world.

But when he came back, it was my sister Sabrina on his arm.

After that she was the woman who ran the Caster house, and I was the crazy one they locked away upstate.

Three years later, at the engagement party, Sabrina opened up her own wrist and screamed that I did it.

I tried to explain.

But the man I'd given half my life to save wouldn't even look at me. He just flicked his hand.

"Her hands don't know their place. Take them. And I don't want that face in front of me."

He never once looked up.

So why is it that the next time he sees me, the moment he really looks at my face, he goes down on his knees?

Did you slaughter your roommates?" the detective sneered. "No!" I screamed. The polygraph technician stared at the flawless readouts confirming I told the absolute truth. I was innocent. But if a human didn't tear those girls apart in our locked dorm... then what exactly is hunting me now?

My birthday was never truly mine.

Everyone was busy making sure she was comfortable, happy, and protected.
When she deliberately handed me chamomile tea—knowing I was allergic—they told me not to hurt my sister’s good intentions and forced me to drink it.

My brother accused me of being jealous and locked me in the basement.

They all forgot about me to celebrate her birthday, even my fiancé.

Lying there, I realized something worse than pain—I was replaceable.

That was the day I understood the truth about my family.
I was dying on “my” birthday, and no one chose me.

That was supposed to be one of the most anticipated days of my life—the wedding of my best friend, Sarah.
But when I put on my bridesmaid dress, she called me a bitch.
"Get out." Sarah looked at me like I was trash.
"I don't want to see you at my wedding."
I stood frozen in place, staring down at the broken Cartier bracelet she had given me, now lying scattered on the floor.

The winter I was eight, I found my own face in a trash can.
It was on a missing-child flyer. The girl on it had been gone five years. She had a birthmark on the back of her neck.
So did I.
There was a reward. A number with a long row of zeros. I didn't want it.
I was cold. I hadn't eaten since yesterday.
I just wanted a mom.
So that night, with a stranger's coins, I called the number at the bottom.
A woman answered on the first ring and screamed a name at me like it was mine.
She got to say it three times.
Then a hand came out of the dark behind me and hung up the phone for me.

"You're terrible in bed! The stamina of a goldfish! I want someone else!"
"Oh yeah? Who exactly?"
"Someone who can actually keep up!"
My husband's jaw ticked. That night, he proved exactly how much stamina he had—and I could barely walk the next morning.

Three years of marriage. Three years of negative pregnancy tests. Desperate times called for desperate measures—so I pushed every button he had, hoping to finally conceive.
One reckless night of passion later, I thought we'd finally made progress.
Instead, divorce papers slammed into my hands.
"Anyone could mother my child," he said coldly. "Literally anyone but you."

Six years later, I returned from overseas—CEO of a medical empire, renowned archaeologist, certified gemologist, and secret heiress to the nation's wealthiest family. Oh, and I brought along my adorable twin geniuses.
My multiple identities? Mind. Blown.
Meanwhile, my ex-husband's dirty secret hit tabloids: He's firing blanks. Always has been.

Just as I'm about to marry my charming new fiancé (who actually appreciates me), my ex corners me in a hotel suite. His eyes bloodshot, voice cracking:
"You're the only one—the ONLY one—who can be my children's mother. My love. Please..."
Too bad, buddy. You snooze, you lose.
💎 Revenge. Rebirth. Twin Chaos. And one groveling ex who's about to learn what he lost. 💎

I was once a world-renowned designer, but I retired for love, dedicating six years to my husband and daughter. But on our anniversary, he spent millions on my final masterpiece, only to place it around another woman's neck on live TV. My own daughter then ran on stage, sweetly calling her 'mommy.' My six years of devotion became a joke. When I asked for a divorce, he sneered, thinking I was just a housewife who couldn't survive three days without him. He has no idea that the legendary designer 'Octavia' he's desperately trying to meet is the wife he cast aside. Now, I’m back. And I'm ready to take back everything that is mine.

At the press conference, my husband Thaddeus Getty publicly declared his love for his first love in front of all the media.
In an instant, the whole world knew I was a wife who wasn't cherished by her husband.
Heartbroken but not defeated, despite my deep love, I chose to leave.
Months later, Thaddeus looked at my belly and snarled through gritted teeth: "Tell me, whose bastard child is this?"

On our third wedding anniversary, my husband's gift to me was a set of divorce papers.
I ended up on the streets with my critically ill daughter, so desperate I sold the only keepsake my late mother had left me.
But when the family estate was revealed, my daughter was named heir to the lion's share.
When my ex-husband took me to court to fight for custody, I pulled out a paternity test report in front of everyone.
"You're sterile. You were never her father — someone else is."

Warning Matured Content [Rated +18]

Randall lifted the veil I was wearing and gently pressed his soft lips against mine. I closed my eyes.

“I am so pleased to present the newlyweds, Randall Adams and Winter Harris Adams!”

I yearn after I open my eyes. It is just a dream. But that didn't happen because rising my eyes, only the click, the light of the camera, and the applause of the people popped into my depressed eyes.

Randall, the handsome billionaire, stands beside me, claiming that we have been a pair of lovers for so long.

But I don't recognize him.

Because I lost my memory.

Rowan is seven years younger than Max; the first warning to stay away. But staying away isn’t an option. Forced to live under the same roof as his mulish stepbrother, Rowan discovers the one person he should fear most is the one he can’t stop thinking about.

Max thrives on chaos, and Rowan quickly becomes his favorite target. But Rowan has a secret: he’s falling for the boy who bullies and seems determined to destroy him. Max makes it clear he hates Rowan, and even clearer that he doesn’t like boys.

In a house built on resentment, the line between hate and need starts to blur. And once Max starts watching, Rowan might never be able to hide, and Max might never be able to look away.

Alexander's lips crash against hers, urgent and consuming, his hard dick pressing against her throbbing pussy, igniting a primal ache. His hands seize her breasts, fingers teasing, before his teeth graze her nipple, biting softly, sending shivers as her body arches, slick with need.
Olivia Harper wakes with no memories. Everyone tells her she's madly in love with her fiancé, but her dreams suggest otherwise. Until the ruthless CEO Alexander Blake confines her, his voice a husky purr. "Forgotten? Perfect."
Memories surged: he had pinned her in a car, her sobs were raw. Why did his possessive eyes burn with grievance?

In every story, the villain died. Jessica had always thought that was fair, until she woke up as one.
Neria Virethorn was a disposable villainess, written to suffer and disappear. After breaking her engagement to a duke, her father treated her like a ruined object, making pain the primary language of their home. But her father wasn’t the greatest threat.
Sebastian Blackmoor, the crown prince and the story’s primary villain, was a man who viewed mercy as a weakness. Neria’s only goal was to stay small enough to survive him.
She failed…
After stumbling into a sealed royal vault, Neria accidentally bonded with a dragon egg that belonged to him.
The bond was permanent. Sebastian didn't see fate; he saw theft. He began hunting her with the cold patience of an executioner. Realising running was futile, Neria chose to interfere with the plot itself. She revealed Alistair…the rightful heir, the story’s "hero," and the man destined to kill Sebastian.
It should have been her escape. Instead, it trapped her between two blood-soaked futures: one where Sebastian destroyed her for her "theft," and another where Alistair used her as his reason in his war for the throne.
Neria was never meant to matter. But with a dragon bound to her soul and the narrative fracturing around her, she realised the truth.
This villainess was no longer a side character; she was the mistake the entire plot had to answer for. If she was destined to be the villain, Neria would become the kind that ruined everything.
“Fine! I’ll be your villain in this story!”

His military medals from three hundred years ago are the last mark of his human identity; now hidden in a junkyard, he is forced to tear off the disguise of the progenitor of the night due to a forced marriage. With powerful figures pressing in, vampires besieging him, and the Holy See approaching, he, in his mortal body, protects the orphan of his benefactor and faces the destined battle.

I thought I was the happiest woman in the world... until I clicked on that video.

The moment the screen lit up, my entire world came crashing down.

The woman on the bed was Calista - that girl who grew up with us since we were kids. And that hand caressing her skin was wearing the wedding ring I had personally put on Matteo's finger.

"I've missed you so much..."
"You drive me crazy, baby..."

Those sweet words I knew so well completely destroyed me.

Everyone said we were the perfect couple, but who knew this marriage was built on nothing but lies?

Since he's so good at acting, I guess it's time I gave him a show of my own. I'm going to make sure everyone sees what this "perfect husband" really is...

My biological parents and my fiancé shove me into a sterile room for a forced drug trial. The chemicals completely destroy my cranial nerves.

They lie about my adopted sister Mia having a terminal illness, using my college admission and trust fund as leverage to make me sacrifice myself.

I used to put my life on the line for Liam, staying up all night to finish his homework, draining everything I had to please my family.

But they are putting on an act from the very beginning. Mia isn't sick. The drug trial is just a front for money laundering.

Stripped of all love, hate, and empathy, I am left with only cold logic after enduring imprisonment, beatings, and endless injections.

Afterward, Liam falls to his knees, sobbing and begging to get back together. I dodge his touch with a blank face.

"Don't come near me. The smell of you makes me physically sick."

For eighteen months, I loved Asher in secret, betting all my pride and heart on our hidden affair. He took my tenderness while prioritizing his rich fiancée, mocking my love and sacrificing my future for his family’s marriage deal. Shamed online, shunned at school and tormented, I made no fuss. I repaid every dollar he gave me, cut all ties, transferred schools and rebuilt myself. He broke off his engagement, lost his pride and begged me to come back—yet all I offered was a final goodbye.

I married my abuser by choice.
To everyone’s confusion, I stay by his side silently, tolerating his endless humiliation and public degradation in front of tens of thousands of livestream viewers. I never cry, never resist, always flawless and docile.
No one notices I’ve kept a perfect physical form, hiding a terrible secret beneath my makeup.
When a strange superchat tears through the live stream and reveals my true identity, my husband is terrified yet obsessed with viral fame. He plans to test my truth tonight.
The meek wife act is over. My quiet, deadly revenge is finally coming true.

I gave him seventeen chances to marry me, yet he eagerly toasts with his new flame, showers her with gifts, and retreats to hotels with her.
He has forgotten that I do not have pierced ears, presenting me annually with earrings I can never wear; he has overlooked our seven-year anniversary but vividly remembers the one-year anniversary of his new lover's employment.
Seventeen promises of marriage, each one an empty promise; seven years of devoted affection, ultimately reduced to a mere laughingstock.
So I flew straight to his worst nightmare—Mexico.
And let him burn in the regret he never earned.

The day my sister and I came back to life, we made one call: swap fiancés.

Last time, Dad burned every favor he had to lock down two marriage deals for the family. One with a mafia family that runs the West Coast. The other with a corporate CEO.

My sister married the mafia leader. She was too gentle, too kind for a world that ran on blood and backstabbing. The man had a childhood friend who played soft and helpless but was vicious as hell underneath. That woman tormented my sister for decades before finally arranging an "accident" that killed her.

And me? I got the polished CEO.

Sounds good, right? Except we tortured each other from day one. He was all rules and manners, always talking like he was giving a speech. Me? I blow up fast and if I can throw a punch, I will. Every day was the same standoff. He'd pull back, I'd push forward, and nobody gave an inch.

We spent our whole lives being polite and miserable.

Then one day, my sister and I woke up on the afternoon they announced the engagements.

My husband Spencer quit his job to manage a rising model's career. In six months, she dropped the weight, blew up online, and turned into a supermodel — magazine covers, major runways, deal after deal.

Meanwhile, I watch myself expand by the day. Bloated. Double chin forming. Skin getting worse.

The whole world calls me greedy, lazy, out of control. Even my parents call to tell me to watch what I eat. And there's nothing I can say to make anyone understand.

Then one night, I catch them on the balcony, voices low, thinking no one can hear: "Forget about that fat cow. Once she drops dead, the house and the insurance are all ours."

That's when it finally makes sense.

Camille has a system tied to her. And it's tied to me.

Every pound I gain, she loses one.

I'm the fuel. The stepping stone. The inheritance they're waiting to collect.

She gets thin while I get fat?

So as long as I keep eating, she keeps losing weight?

Good.

I go ahead and spend a hundred grand booking a reclusive private chef for a full month. No limits on ingredients, price doesn't matter. The more extravagant, the better.

I'm going to eat whatever I want and actually enjoy my life.

Let's see how long she stays thin while I'm out here actually living my life.

Three months after my miscarriage, at the celebration dinner he hosts for my "recovery," he tells his partners in French, "She's just a trophy wife. Doesn't understand basic business."

"What about that new assistant? The twenty-two-year-old?"

"So much smarter," he laughs. "And in bed? Way more exciting."

They think I don't understand. To everyone here, I'm just the stay-at-home wife who gave up her VP position at an investment bank to play house.

They don't know I minored in French. I spent a full year studying abroad at the Sorbonne.

As I lay in the operating room, bleeding out from the miscarriage, he was already seeing her.

Je comprends tout. I understand everything.

Over the champagne and candlelight, I smile at him.

He has no idea this is the last time he'll ever see it.

Everyone in town said I dumped my blind boyfriend because I couldn't stand being poor.
Five years later, I'd become a blind drifter myself, relying on handouts just to eat.
And he'd become one of Silicon Valley's hottest rising tech moguls.
He recognized me, but pretended he didn't.
He wanted me on my knees. Wanted me begging. Wanted me to pay for "abandoning" him.
Until he found out the person who gave up everything for him back then was no one else...
But me.

She was forced to accept a marriage proposal from a strange billionaire to pay her huge debt and to take back her inheritance left to him when her mother died.

"I only have two questions," she said. "The first question is this: if I sign it, does it mean that I don't need to pay my debt?"

Mike: "Yes. And your second question...?"

Crystal: "Okay, I haven't reached the legal age for marriage yet, so even if I sign it, it won't take effect. Is that right?"

Nathan quickly raised his hand and said, "If I say that it is effective, no one will dare to say that it isn't. Do you believe that?"

"I suppose so," Crystal admitted. She hesitated for a moment, and then she signed the marriage certificate.

Months later, she asked for a divorce from him. He stared at her in silence, then he uttered, "Have I ever told you how much I love you?"

"What does that have to do with our divorce?" Crystal asked.

"I'm only asking because I care about you," Nathan murmured.

Suddenly, tears began to stream down Nathan's face.

"I'll be happy if you say that you care about me," Nathan continued. "Why must you torture me this way? Haven't I done enough to prove my love for you?"

She was stunned hearing his confession and words stuck on her throat.

Nathan carried on with his little speech. He said, "I have died once, and the fear of death has no hold on me. But if you admit that you care for me, then I will live for you! So, please, love me once, and I will be at your disposal!"

I was dying — and he was loving someone else.
I left.
Now he wants me back… but will I let him?

Clara Hughs is an orphan who was working in a bar as a waitress where rich men come to pick up girls. She encountered a strange handsome man at the club one night, Ragnor Usiku, who rescued her from trouble with her employer. Everything changed, as Clara Hughs found herself drawn to this man. Will Clara love him the same when she discovers who he is? Will their love bring them peace or will it create obstacles for them? To know more read "Will You Still Love Me The Same"

He filled my head with lies.
Then he set my world on fire.

Gavril Vaknin.
Richer than God.
Crueler than the devil.

And if he has his way…
My new fake husband.

A chance meeting turns into a once-in-a-lifetime offer.
The billionaire don needs a blank slate to turn into his perfect politician’s wife.
I’m homeless and desperate—what do I have to lose?

But Gavril is hiding secrets. Cloaked in lies.
Stepping into his world is a one-way ticket to a hell I won’t survive.

Did I do the right thing?
Or did I just sell my soul to a monster?

Beatrice has never been someone to take things lying down. After being kidnapped by two men and thrown in the back of a car, she's already thinking of ways to make them regret their actions. She soon finds out these men are werewolves, tasked with bringing her to their pack because she’s someone’s fated mate.
Her. A human. Fated to be with a werewolf? That couldn’t be right.
As a human, there's no way she can escape from this mate-thing they are adamant she accept. That is… until she decides to trust the vampire in the packhouse dungeon. With his help, surely they can both escape their fates as prisoners of the Bluemoon Pack.

Temptation has a way of slipping past every boundary and challenging even the strongest resolve. What appears controlled, familiar, and respectable on the surface often hides emotions that are far more complicated beneath. Hearts are drawn toward connections they know they should resist. Unexpected. Irresistible. Forbidden.
Inside this collection, you will find stories like these:
A lonely wife finding comfort in the one man she was never meant to fall for... her bodyguard.
A woman torn between loyalty and unexpected feelings for her husband's quiet, brooding brother.
A young employee caught in a life-changing connection with her powerful CEO.
A student navigating an undeniable attraction to a professor twice her age.
And many more stories where boundaries are tested and forbidden feelings refuse to fade.
Every story explores love, temptation, and impossible choices.
Emotional. Addictive. Impossible to forget.
Several forbidden romances.
One unforgettable collection.
Will you dare to turn the page?

Lena was punished for a crime she didn’t commit just to save her twin sister. But in return she was betrayed and rejected by her own destined mate, and then, worse, she was exiled from her own pack to the Darmos College.
There, her life changed when she met three hot alpha roommates.
Kai- the hot hockey player; Lucas, the doctor of the college; and Adrian, the biology professor.
“Little mouse, You are not only just our roommate—but our mate,” Lucas whispered in her ears, while rubbing her pink lips. She couldn’t believe and tried to push him away.
Suddenly, she felt another arm around her waist, pulling her closer to his bare chest body. “Whether you believe it or not, You are ours.” Kai, leaned in, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered.