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Five years into my marriage, I took off my Donna necklace at the Rossi family’s New Year’s Eve banquet and Noah still thought I could never leave him.
He stood by the long table with his mistress, Amelia, and said in front of every capo, “Some people will never measure up to her. Not even close.”
I didn’t cry. I didn’t make a scene. I just turned and walked away. On my way out, my cousin Lucas, my fixer, handed me a cup of coffee.
Three days later, he brought me two pieces of news.
Amelia was four months pregnant. And Noah was trading family territory to get his bastard child recognized by the family.
“What are you going to do?” Lucas asked.
I stared out the window, thinking about the red lipstick stain on Noah’s shirt. Thinking about the smug look in his eyes when he told me, “I only helped her because I felt sorry for her.”
“Wait,” I said. “Wait until they think they’ve won.”
What Noah didn’t know was I was still holding one last trump card.

She has lived hundreds of lives and each one ended horribly.
He, once her companion, cannot forget her beyond time.
She, kidnapped into a world unknown to her, tries everything to get back home. But what are these dreams?

[…] Stones are thrown at dirty mutts… Rats are burned… […]

Immerse yourself in the world of Athaerion.

"Daddy... so cold... and it hurts..." When my precious daughter Mia whispered these words in her weak voice, my heart felt like it was being torn apart.
The life-saving medicine was just ten meters away, but that damned anti-magic barrier had become an insurmountable chasm between life and death.
What made me even more furious was that the vampire guarding the gate not only extorted my life savings, but also demanded I kneel like a dog and lick his boots before he would open the door.
He didn't know that if the door stayed closed, it wouldn't just be my daughter who died—his son and mother would perish too!

We’ve been married for five years. Then, she got pregnant with someone else's child.
In front of everyone, she said: "Ethan doesn't want this baby. You've always wanted one, right? Fine, take it and raise it."
In that moment, I finally understood: she wasn’t incapable of loving someone—she simply never saw me as a human being.
I took off my wedding ring, left it on the tray, and bought a one-way ticket to the North. My family said I wouldn't survive in the frozen North; she said that without her, I was nothing.
Three years later, she tracked me down using the GPS hidden inside that ring. She pushed open the door to my attic room, finding only a note I’d left: "Don't look for me. We're square."

With one week left until the wedding, Henry Jones asked me to reschedule the date—for one simple reason:
“On our wedding day, I’m taking Ann to the hospital for her prenatal checkup.”
Ann is the widow of his brother Ethan. She’s also my half-sister. In that private room, they laughed at me for being “almost thirty and desperate to get married.”
Ann put on an innocent face. “If Rory is really in such a rush… I can reschedule my appointment.”
I wanted to break up, and Henry frowned as he lectured me:
“As her future sister-in-law, why do you have to fight her over this one day?”
I asked him, “Do you even remember what Friday is?”
He coaxed me softly: “One day earlier or later—what’s the difference?” I nodded and said “Fine,” thinking I could still swallow it.
Until I pressed my fingerprint to enter his office and overheard Ann questioning him about inheritance, and Henry answered under his breath, “It won’t come to that—I won’t let Rory get pregnant with my child.”
That was the moment I u

The system made me an outcast live-in husband in a werewolf clan for three years. The mission reward: 80 billion dollars. Now there's only half a day left until retirement settlement.

The arrogant pure-blood Alpha wants to force me into a deadly full moon execution array, roaring for me to kneel and die.

I don't even lift an eyelid. Right at quitting time, I directly withdraw my soul, leaving the body to the original owner "Ancestor Wolf Emperor" to handle, while I return to my Manhattan penthouse, sink into the leather sofa, and start a holographic livestream.

"Enjoy your night shift, everyone." I take a light sip of hot coffee, coldly watching the screen as the Wolf Emperor crushes that pure-blood Alpha's spine into mush with one foot, shocking my mission wife and mother-in-law into idiots.

In their eyes, my wife Emma—an Ivy League tenured professor in biological sciences—is ruthless, rational, and obsessively clean.
For seven years, even when she washed her hands, she would only ever touch the right-side sink—hers.
Until that night at 3 a.m., when I pulled a strand of sandy-golden short curl—hair that belonged to neither of us—out of my men’s shower loofah.
And around the neck of a pre-med student named Lucas, I saw the antique silver cross my dying father left in my hands.
When I confronted her, my always-icy wife protected the little homewrecker, slapped me across the face, and called me a jealous, controlling chauvinist.
She thought I’d swallow it like a coward.
But she forgot: as a top cardiothoracic chief, the thing I do best is cutting out tumors.

After I retired, I was willing to do the dirtiest work at a small auto repair shop—just to give my sick daughter an ordinary childhood.
I endured my mother’s insults, my eldest brother’s wage cuts, my younger brother’s extortion.
But they actually joined forces to steal my daughter’s life-saving money for gambling, then sold me into an illegal mine to pay off their debts.
When the iron chain locked around my wrist, when my daughter cried in despair, the killing intent that had slept in my blood for three years finally woke up completely.
They had no idea I was once the iron-blooded God of War—commander of a million troops, the name that made enemy nations tremble.

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.

Kael Graham is a cold, unfeeling man driven by a relentless quest for revenge. He is determined to destroy Rachel Mitchell's life and will do anything to achieve his goal. To do so, Kael lures Rachel into a dangerous trap, but, ironically, it is Rachel's sister Sarah who suffers the consequences. Now, who will emerge victorious in this game of revenge and pleasure?

Nivea Del Castano, a girl who often goes against her father's wishes. With her courage, she can always prove that her own choices are not wrong. Honesty is absolute for her, she doesn't care if she has to hurt anyone's feelings with her honesty. Until one day she found out that she was the reincarnated form of a girl who lived hundreds of years ago. Nivea could not escape, because running wherever her destiny would remain the same. Does Nivea still want to run? When her heart is set on Matias Vander Lawrence who makes her life more colorful.

"I'm sorry, Ava, but you can no longer be my mate because you are not up to my level. You are now just a mere human," Caleb said, which made Ava extremely angry.

"After all the sacrifices I have made? My brother gave his life for you! I became a mere human because of you! It's the sacrifice I made! I had to lose my hybrid powers in order to break your curse, and after all that, you reject me?" Ava said, tears streaming down her face.

"Well, that's how you see it!" Alpha Caleb responded before walking away.

If you were in Ava's shoes, what would you do? Not sure? Let's dive in and see what Ava did!

When the apocalypse struck, my brother Leo didn't hesitate to choose the offshore sanctuary.
In our past life, faced with a choice between a powerful inland warlord commanding a massive army and a leader clinging to a solitary island, Leo snatched up the first option.
But when a zombie horde overran the mainland and defenses collapsed, he fled to my island for refuge.
Jealous of how well I was surviving the end of the world, he and our parents knocked me unconscious in the dead of night and threw me into the ocean to drown.
Now that I've been reborn, Leo immediately took our parents to the maritime base, leaving the "dangerous" mainland to me.
He thinks the ocean is a natural barrier that guarantees his safety, that he can sit back and relax while the world burns.
But there's one thing he doesn't know.
Zombies aren't just static, mindless walking dead—they evolve.
And when they do, that offshore sanctuary will become a floating hell with no way out.

Chosen as one of the Alpha's breeders. Freya is treated unfairly by both the Alpha and her fellow breeders.

She's accused of committing different crimes and does not go unpunished.

She spends a night with the Alpha and he does not seem to want to let her go after that night. This leaves her vulnerable to a lot of enemies who would stop at nothing to make her utterly miserable.

How would Freya scale through and prove herself worthy of being a Luna?

What happens when a deep dark secret is discovered?

Her cousin was convinced that a blind date would finally end her single streak.

Spoiler? It blew up in her face—spectacularly.

Charming, normal, and good-looking? Apparently, that was code for walking red flag. Dorian Delacroix wasn’t just trouble; he was the whole bad-boy danger package—magnetic, secretive, and undeniably lethal. Sure, sparks flew, but there was no easy escape from this mess.

Being under the "protection" of a dangerously gorgeous Special Activities Division leader might have sounded thrilling, but in reality? It meant trading freedom for paranoia, a luxury prison for a home, and a constant threat looming in the shadows. Because the Shinomiya cartel wasn’t just after Dorian—they were after something worse.

And if Vivian was right, their real target might just be the baby she was carrying.

Raella is a struggling waitress hiding from her past; Vincenzo is the ruthless heir to a mafia empire. When Raella crashes his party and accidentally flashes him, she thinks it’s the worst night of her life. She’s wrong. The next day, a sniper shoots up her diner, and Vincenzo is the only one who can save her. His price? A fake marriage. She becomes his wife, his bait, and his obsession. But as the lines between "fake" and "real" blur, Raella realizes the safest place might be in the arms of the monster.

Monica , a mistreated Omega at the hands of her stepbrother, faces judgment and abandonment from her Alpha mate, Conrad. Seeking solace, she turns to the Governor, finding refuge from the nightmares of her past. Together, they embark on a vengeful mission to make Conrad pay for the pain he caused and seek justice for the Governor's deceased wife. Monica devises a plan to seduce Conrad and earn his trust, but the question remains: will her love triumph? Can she truly make him suffer and face his demise?

As a shocking revelation unfolds, Monica's world is turned upside down, forcing her to question her choices and decisions.

He stared down at me, his dark eyes burning with desire. His touch was electric, sending shivers through my body as his fingers teased me, leaving me breathless and aching for more.

"You want this?" he murmured, his voice rough with need.

I could barely think, barely speak—all I knew was that I needed him. "Yes..." I gasped, arching against him as his touch grew bolder, more demanding.

Every stroke, every whispered word pushed me closer to the edge. I was lost in him, in the way he claimed me without hesitation.

"Who are you?" he demanded, his grip tightening.”

"I am your dirty little slut."

I gasped...

A month after her dad died, she moved to L.A.—to live with his best friend. A man rich enough to own the city, and powerful enough to stay untouchable.

She thought it’d be awkward. Quiet. Maybe even safe. But then came the night.

One mistake. One touch. And everything changed.

Now they’re caught in something they can’t control. It’s wrong. It’s dangerous. And it feels way too good to stop.

She knows this can’t last. He knows it too.

But the more they try to stay away, the harder it gets to breathe without each other. And if anyone finds out— It won’t just break hearts. It’ll ruin lives.

This story is rated 18+...