214 Book(s) Related to jay novell

The day our parents remarried, my entire life descended into unrelenting hell.
Jace, my stepbrother, hated me on sight the second he walked through the front door.
Like a relentless ghost that haunted my every waking moment, he stole every girl I ever cared about, one by one.
I hated him for seven long years, convinced he only got off on grinding me into the dirt. Until that drugged night at the hotel...

Bryan and I had been together for a year.

He was gentle, thoughtful. I had no reason not to trust him.

Until the night the typhoon hit.

He called. He said he, his mother, and his brother's family were outside my door, soaking wet. They just needed somewhere to stay for the night.

I walked to the door.

My hand reached for the doorknob.

That's when I saw her in the hallway mirror.

My future self.

Covered in blood. Clothes shredded.

She was screaming at me. "Don't open the door! They'll kill you!"

I am Seraphine Marchwood. For five years, I gave every piece of myself to Alpha Veyron, convinced our mate bond was fated—until the night I accidentally overheard the truth.
He never wanted me as his mate. The entire proposed bond was nothing but a cover, a farce to hide his scandalous affair with Ophelia, the woman he actually loved. She was carrying his pup, and I was just the disposable, respectable shield to keep his reputation untarnished.
I ran that night, blind with grief and rage, until I crashed through the rotting beams of an old, rain-soaked ruin. The last thing I remembered before blacking out was the taste of blood in my mouth, and the sound of his voice calling my name, too late.
When I woke up, I didn’t recognize him.
And for the first time since I’d known him, he looked terrified. The cold, unshakable Alpha who’d cast me aside without a second thought was panicking, desperate, scrambling to bring back the version of me that had loved him more than anything—even as a new, unforeseen path began to unfurl before me.

I once believed fleeing my engagement would set me free, only to fall headlong into a web of betrayal spun by my closest friend and faithless lover.

Now, granted a second life just a week before that fateful wedding, I stand before the man I betrayed—Alexander Stone, the unyielding soul who ended his life in my previous existence, all because of me.

This time, I've sworn to mend what I shattered. But as I reach out to him, his voice cuts like ice: "You don't need to know me. This marriage is purely transactional."

Yet if he's as indifferent as he claims, why did he linger by my hospital bed for two sleepless nights? Why do his eyes flicker with a devastation that could unravel worlds, and why does he shudder at my touch, whispering, "Are you afraid of me?"

As the shadows of old betrayals creep back, will I pierce his frozen mask to safeguard this fragile love reborn? And that haunting whisper in my mind—"Alexander Stone died because of you"—does it seal a destiny I can't escape?

I once believed that every click of Ryan's Leica shutter was proof of his love—a luxury villa, his exclusive muse—I was foolish enough to believe in this fairy tale. Until our engagement night, when Isabella appeared wearing an identical ring, and the media exposed his betrayal, I finally realized I was nothing but a carefully selected stand-in.

Have you ever spent three years of your youth living as someone else's shadow? When he held her and called me "just a cheap copy," I didn't break down. After all, isn't it more satisfying to turn the tables using the camera sounds he was so obsessed with, making him pay for his sins in his own madness? In this game of deception disguised as love, who really played whom?

The five of us were dragged into a twisted nightmare.
The game rules were absolute: Kill the Boss. All members survive. Total escape.
Luckily, we each spawned into the game with a supernatural perk.
Relying on our powers and our bond, we spent six grueling hours tearing the massive, horrific beast apart.
All we had to do was step into the extraction portal to wake up in Oregon.
My friends were screaming in victory, already planning our celebration at Voodoo Doughnuts.
Instead, I was frozen. My heart wasn't racing with adrenaline anymore; it was cold. Absolute zero.
Because my real perk tracked the Boss status.
Floating in the center of my vision, cutting through the shadows, were two lines of text that only I could see:BOSS STATUS: ALIVE.DISGUISED. The monster wasn't dead. It was standing right here, wearing the face of one of my best friends!

I put up with my husband's cheating because I needed money for my brother's medical bills.

Until I found the heart donor report he'd been hiding in his study for three months. 98% match. He'd signed it "postpone."

That night, fireworks filled the London sky, his mistress laughing in the background. Standing over my brother's body, I finally got it—he'd been killing my brother all along.

I ripped up his check, sold every piece of jewelry he'd ever given me, and threw the divorce papers in his face.

"Murderer"—that's all I said.

Three years later, I'm getting a standing ovation at the Golden Hall. He shows up in the snow, eyes red, begging for forgiveness.

I just smiled. "Charles, you died three years ago."

My daughter died on her seventh birthday.
I held her in the cold ward as her body slowly lost all warmth.
Meanwhile, her father—my husband Vincent—was on a mountain top with his mistress, making love to her all night long.
He said, "She’s just a child. There’ll be better ones sooner or later."
He said, "Camila, you’re the only one I love."
He has no idea that he’s killed the only soul in this world that loved him unconditionally.
After the divorce, I am no longer the meek Mrs. Lucchese who begged for his affection.
Funeral, scandal, a worthless bastard...
Everything I lost, I will make him pay for—with his entire family.

At my engagement dinner, my fiancé asked me to sign the prenup that killed me once before.

Last time, Adrian smiled, kissed my hand, and promised I would never be alone again. Three weeks later, debt collectors came for money I had never borrowed, black veins crawled under my skin, and his dying mother walked out of hospice in pearls.

This time, I turned to the second page first.

My name was already printed there.

Beside it was a date that had not happened yet.

Under it was another bride’s name.

A woman declared dead twenty-three years ago.

I once thought marriage was redemption.

I hid that I was a billionaire heiress, threw on an apron and played the perfect housewife. For three years, I pawned my jewelry to bail him out, stayed up all night fixing his business proposals, only for him to parade his mistress around our house.

She wore my limited-edition cashmere sweater, smashed my expensive china, his mother called me worthless for not popping out kids, and he called me cheap trash he couldn't stand anymore.

Fifty thousand dollars—that's what he thought three years of my life was worth.

When I got pregnant, I thought things would change, only to get shoved down the stairs and lose everything.

While I was still bleeding in that hospital bed, he forced me to sign divorce papers, threatening to destroy me completely.

In the La Perla private room, he made me crawl like a dog, trying to pimp me out to some random guy.

He had no idea I wasn't just hiding my identity—I was hiding my claws.

My fiancé and I held twenty-one weddings. I put on my wedding dress twenty-one times, only to crawl out of pools of blood each time.

Car accidents. Shootings. Explosions. Fires.

Everyone said I was cursed, that I was bad luck for my husband.

I was the only fool who believed they were accidents.

Until the twenty-second time.

That day, covered in blood, I escaped from an ambush back to headquarters and heard him say coldly over the walkie-talkie, "She won't die. Save Valerie first."

It turned out all the accidents were personally arranged by him.

He didn't love me—he just owed my parents a debt he could never repay.

So he staged disaster after disaster to get out of marrying me.

At the twenty-second wedding, I didn't wait for him to cancel.

This time, I was the one who called it off.

My name is Ivy, and I’m 18. My best friend’s father, Sebastian Blackwood, a Harvard law professor, is mature, cold, and authoritative. He’s been the centerpiece of every fantasy I’ve had since puberty.

Those nights, I toss and turn under the covers, imagining his fingers slipping into my wet, hot va*na, imagining his cok thrusting into me hard, driving me to the edge of climax.

I know it’s wrong. He’s off-limits.

But every time he looks at me, those deep, piercing eyes seem to strip away my clothes, staring straight at my most secret places. My heart races out of control, my body burns with heat.

I don’t want to just be his “good girl.”

I want to be claimed by him, completely, destructively.

During this 30-day seaside vacation, I’ll make him see that I’m no longer a little girl.

My body is wet for him, my soul burns for him.

Sebastian, will you resist, or will you pin me down and fu*k me hard?

On my due date, my mate Kael locked me in the Frost Vault.
House Veyron's Hatching Law was absolute: the first dragon egg to break shell inherits the entire Emberscale empire. My sister-in-law Celine and I were both due to deliver—our egg dates only one day apart. To ensure his brother Roman's posthumous egg hatched first, Kael made his choice.
"Roman and Celine's egg must break shell first. You owe them that!" He ignored my ruptured water, ignored the agony of the egg already pressing into my birth canal, and shoved me into that dungeon built from ancient ice-dragon bones.
Then they injected me with Frostbind Serum—an ice-magic drug that freezes the life-bond between a mother dragon and her egg. I curled up on the frozen floor carved with suppression runes, feeling my child's pulse fade beat by beat, and wept.
My baby, I'm so sorry... I can't even protect you...

"Clyde, no—stop this right now. I only came to your class because Aaron recommended you to help me learn motorcycle riding for my job, not to get into something like this." On the open training field, as I struggled to balance the bike and keep it steady, my husband's old college roommate Clyde climbed on behind me to "correct" my form, his hands boldly cupping my large, soft breasts through my fitted top. The real problem hit when I felt his massive bulge pressing insistently against my backside, hard and unyielding, as he leaned in too close under the guise of instruction.

My husband and I've been married for three years, and he's been messing around with her the entire time.

Hugging and kissing her on set, whispering flirty lines in interviews.

Everyone online calls me a pathetic stand-in.

I never get mad. I just smile and help him smooth over every rumor.

That is, until I accidentally got pregnant and secretly had an abortion.

He was furious, his heart shattered, demanding to know why.

I cupped his face and said calmly: "Because I don't love you."

The one I truly love is his dead brother.

I had been married for seven years, thinking I had the perfect family.

Until Christmas Eve, when I saw a delivery order for apartment 702. The note read: severe mango allergy.

My husband's allergy. The one that could kill him.

I flew downstairs and pounded on the door.

My husband opened it. The same man who was supposed to be "out of town on business."

A pregnant woman appeared behind him.

And my six-year-old son stood behind her, glaring at me with cold eyes:

"Make her leave, Mom. She's crazy."

My world shattered.

My husband sent me to a clinic to erase my "attachment distress" toward him and our daughter.

He said I was too obsessive, too clingy, that my love was suffocating him. So the day I found he'd booked three tickets to Zurich—one for himself, one for our daughter, one for another woman—I signed the consent form.

He said the treatment was temporary. That once I was "better," we'd still be a family.

Three months later, I walked out of that clinic. I remembered the white roses at our wedding. I remembered sitting up all night with our daughter when she had a fever. I remembered every time he'd told me he loved me. All those memories were still there, as clear as if they'd happened yesterday.

But when he stood before me holding flowers, eyes red, asking why I wouldn't fight anymore, why I wouldn't cry, why I didn't love him anymore—I could only tell him calmly:

I remember loving you.

That feeling, though? It's really gone.

He thought he was erasing my pain. He had no idea what he'd actually erased.

My daughter helped my husband cheat.

My ten-year-old begged me to take her to a summer camp in Italy. My husband looked at her like she hung the moon. Booked the tickets right there.

I thought I was the luckiest mom alive.

Then I checked the pet camera from overseas.

There he was, fucking my daughter's riding instructor on our couch.

But what really killed me? What he said, "Don't worry. Nina wants that horse bad enough, she'll keep her mom in Europe as long as we need."

Back home, my husband dropped a receipt. Two identical limited edition watches.

He froze. My sweet daughter didn't miss a beat, "Dad used the other one to bribe someone so I could get my horse!"

They lied in perfect sync. That's when something in me broke.

They thought I was still that stupid, trusting wife.

What they didn't know?

I'd already signed a contract. Going back to my art career in New York.

Look, I'd heard the rumors: Skyward International's flight attendants? You never see 'em anywhere but the airport. Not once. Kinda spooky, but my coworker drops this smirk—"First time? You'll get it"—and I'm boarding Flight 6108, heart pounding.

This chief stewardess, Tiffany? Stunning. Locks eyes, buckles me in, perfume hits like a drug. Later, service cart rolls up. "Airsick? C'mon." Door shuts in the crew lounge. Boom—she's on her knees. "Relaxation service." Zipper down, wipes me clean, then swallows my cock whole. Balls-deep, tongue on my sack, cheeks sucking vacuum. "Big one," she whispers, eyes pleading like she needs my okay.

My name is Charles Cole, a blind lactation therapist.
Of course, apart from pretending to be blind, all my skills are genuine.
Ophelia sat on the bed and slowly took off her top right in front of me, her beautiful figure revealing its spring allure under the golden warm sunlight.
“Mr. Cole, let's begin!”
I nodded, reaching forward with both hands, yet I didn't dare show the slightest unusual expression on my face.
The reason was simple: Ophelia's husband, Russell, was standing coldly right behind me at that moment.

My husband abandoned a billion-dollar deal and flew back overnight for me.

Everyone envied Mrs. Harris and her perfect life.

Only I knew that when he knelt by my bed, holding my hand, his cuff was still stained with another woman's breastmilk.

He thought I'd just taken a fall.

He didn't know that while he was cradling his bastard child with that tender smile, our baby had already dissolved into a pool of blood and left me forever.

This time, I won't make a scene. I won't love him anymore.

I slipped the suicide note I'd written long ago into the drawer.

And on this rainy night, I began planning a "death" that would belong to me alone.

I gave five years to my husband's ambition—and got betrayal in return.

Forty-three days without a break on the Imperial City project. I collapsed from exhaustion and woke up in the hospital. He never picked up the phone.

He was too busy celebrating his mistress's birthday.

The blonde hair wrapped around his jacket was like a slap to the face. I'd cut my own hair short years ago because he said long hair wasn't "professional." He just meant it wasn't professional on me.

He promised we'd move to Imperial City together once he succeeded. But he was always too busy—except when it came to touring my project sites with her.

I'd had enough.

I froze the accounts. Pulled the funding. Took back everything I'd built.

He tried to push me out of my own position, so I reclaimed the patents and withdrew my support.

He called a press conference to save face. I attended—as an executive at his largest competitor.

I watched him crumble.

For five years, I held him up. And for five years, he treated me like something disposable.

He forgot that the empire he thought he built was never his.

It was always mine.

In order to rush to comfort his assistant whose apartment was leaking, Richard signed his name hastily without even glancing at the documents on the table.
I put away the divorce agreement with a wry smile.
When he and my son completely disappeared, he finally panicked.
Three months later .
He knelt down on the streets of Chicago in despair, begging me to remarry him.
My six-year-old son looked coldly at his biological father and said, "Get lost, you bad uncle! You don't deserve to be my dad!"

"Yes baby, just like that. Oh fuck yes! Yes!"

I opened my mouth as utter shock and pain filled my body. My husband was fucking my step sister on our wedding night. Hot tears dropped from my eyes as the wet sounds and moaning grew louder and louder.


Larissa, the esteemed Luna of the Tokenmoon pack, had it all. A loving husband and a strong pack. But it was all a lie. Stefan, her alpha husband, was the devil. He maltreated and abused her constantly while cheating on her with her step-sister. To make matters worse, he rejected her and sent her away. Heartbroken, Larissa was lost until she stumbled across her second chance mate. . . Kaden.

Kaden, handsome as sin and the alpha of Griffen-howl pack is a broken man. When his wife runs away with another man, while abandoning him and his son, he vows never to believe in love. But when a homeless woman, Larissa comes into his territory, it appears that he might be breaking those vows. She is his second-chance mate but will he be able to believe in love again?

Aurora, once known as the top assassin, is reborn into the Pendleton family as the least favored and most ridiculed third daughter. Overweight? No problem, it's never too late to lose weight! Weak and powerless? No worries, it's never too late to rise! Timid and easily bullied? No matter, now's the time to transform into a cunning queen!
After dealing with unworthy men and contemptible women, Aurora is ready to live her life freely and unapologetically. But the aloof and mysterious Heath comes forward with a question that changes everything: "When are we getting married?"

Steamy, dirty stories with a kinky, forbidden twist. Each story is about 20,000 words so sit back, grab some holy water and relax! It's time to sink in 11 deliciously dark and twisted love tales! Highly erotic and brimming with dark desires, don't say I didn't warn ya!

18+ Forbidden Temptations (Steamy Collections Erotica)
Coach and Cheerleader
Principal and Student
Step-brother and Step-sister
Teacher and Student
Step-father and step-daughter
Father’s best friend and 18 year old daughter
Professor and college student
Secretary and Ceo
Maid and master
Younger boy and older woman
Doctor and female student

A hundred years after the war where werewolves lost against humans, Kaiya finds herself imprisoned in an island park where they are hunted weekly for human entertainment. However, when the ownership of the island park changes, she finds her mate, who coincidentally, is the new park owner.


“You are the first freed werewolf. It does not mean that you will be the last,” he says.

“Is that why you freed me? To set an example?”

“No. I freed you because you will be my woman.”

My breathing stops. The way he puts a claim on me makes me want to claim him too. “I—”

“Ah! Don’t worry about answering me now. I will give you time to consider me.”

I look at the table and entwine my fingers together. I take a deep breath and look back at him. “I want that too,” I whisper. “I want to become your woman, too.”

I answer the surprise on his face by flushing scarlet. Then, he looks away and I can see a blush creeping on his face, too.

“So, starting now, are we together?” he asks.

“Before that, we need to do a promise.”

“A promise?”

I take his hand to mine and say, “You are my mate, whom I promise to love and cherish forever, until the gods and fate separate us.”

He squeezes my hand and answers, “You are my mate, whom I promise to love and cherish forever, even if the gods and fate may try to separate us.”

"I'll marry you."
Lauren Greene never thought those words would escape her lips. But with her mother's life hanging by a thread and emergency surgery costing more than she could ever afford, desperation left her with only one choice—marry a crippled stranger.
Alexander Magnus, the reclusive billionaire heir who lost his parents in a tragic hit-and-run and survived the accident that left him disabled, had spent twenty years abroad rebuilding himself. He returned home ready to take over his father's empire—and marry the woman he had loved silently for years, Melissa McCarthy.
But on the day of their court wedding, Melissa never showed up.
Instead, Alex crossed paths with Lauren, a woman willing to trade her freedom for a chance to save her mother.
Their marriage of convenience was meant to be nothing more than a transaction—until real feelings began to slip through the cracks.
And just as Lauren and Alex start to find a fragile rhythm together, Melissa suddenly returns, determined to reclaim Alex as hers.
Tom Devon—the ruthless billionaire rival who has fallen for Lauren—steps into the picture, vowing to take her away.
With jealousy rising, secrets unraveling, and Lauren's mother's shocking death pointing fingers toward Alex, their world threatens to crumble.
Will Lauren fight for the man she's beginning to love? Or flee, like she always has?
And can Alex and Lauren survive the chaos closing in around them or is their happy ending destined to shatter before it even begins?

When Cassie discovered that her boyfriend of six months was cheating on her with a married younger woman, she looked for the cheating woman's husband and insisted to have sex with him. However, after the deed, she found out that she got the wrong person and had a tryst with the billionaire Liam Chapman instead.

Soon, her life spirals out of control—Liam's expelled son enrolls in her school. Her ex-boyfriend’s cheating goes out. Students complain about her teaching methods. And her co-teachers think that she is having an affair with the education minister because of the speed of her promotion and the number of her awards.

Wanting to escape the drama, she resigns and goes to another city, only to meet Liam Chapman again. This time, he has an offer she can't reject. A contract marriage of three years. He will provide all her needs, but in return, she will provide his, and that includes focusing on his little monster of a son who hates studying because he thinks it's very uncool.

However, as she stays with husband and son, she falls more and more for Liam and loves his kid as if he is her own. But, time is running out. Soon the contract will end, and she will need to leave the life she learned to love.

“You disgust me.”

I blinked back the tears that wanted to fall and forced myself to move forward. This was just another challenge I had to face, another hurdle in my mission.

I couldn’t let Hunter break me, no matter how much he seemed to enjoy tormenting me. I would survive this. I had to. Even if it meant swallowing my pride and scrubbing floors until my hands bled.


As an Omega from a rival pack, Faelen Earhart’s mission is clear: infiltrate the ruthless Howle Wulf Pack and pose as a servant. But blending in proves harder than expected, especially when she catches the eye of Alpha Hunter Blackethorn—a notorious playboy who loathes weakness and makes Faelen’s life a living nightmare. Despite his cruelty, Faelen finds herself drawn to him, sparking a dangerous attraction that’s as thrilling as it is confusing.
When Faelen uncovers an imminent attack from her own pack, she faces an impossible choice: remain loyal to her pack or protect the man she’s come to care for. Her warning changes everything, forcing Hunter to confront his own feelings. In the battle that follows, Faelen’s courage will redefine her loyalty, Hunter’s heart, and the future of both packs.

Warning: Mature content!

He let his hand squeeze her breast gently through the gown she wore, then he applied a little bit of force. He heard her make a whimpering sound into his mouth and he swallowed it up. He released her hands and pushed her to himself with his hand while caressing her breast.


His unwilling slave…

Fiery and innocent, Lady Roksolana was once the esteemed and privileged daughter of the sultanate king. Until she was captured by the enemy, the all powerful and devilishly charming Sultan, Sheikh Jamal Aamil.

The ruthless king…

Worshipped as a god by his people, sinfully hot Jamal takes ahold of Roksolana during an attack and back to his palace. Drawn to her exotic beauty, he tries to bends her to his seductive whims. Except that Roksolana refuses to suppress her bold spirit for any man, especially such an arrogant one like Jamal, who sees her as nothing but his possession, a jewel in his harem and a slave to slake his pleasure on.

Bound together by desire…

Soon, Roksolana finds herself succumbing to his sensual touches and in the process falls in love with him. But with another danger in the air, ememies scheming wicked plots and his favorite mistress raging with jealousy, will these two be able to find love in the midst of all the chaos?

A thrilling tale of love, lust and desire.

Warning: Mature Content

“You should never feel shy around me Céline..." He trailed off as his eyes moved from her face to the mound of soft skin peeking out from atop her shirt. His fingers moved dangerously low, creating a path from her neck to her cleavage.

Goosebumps formed on her skin, wherever his cold fingers traced. Céline held her breathe, her folds getting wet.


Innocent, beautiful but heartbroken Celine Fayet is out for revenge. Unable to find peace until her parent's death is avenged, she chooses one wickedly enticing option to get the money she so desperately needs; marry Damien Culhane, sexy multi-millionaire.

Except that Damien, drop dead gorgeous with his panty dropping smile, has no plans of getting married. Content with his playboy ways, he cruises among the elites, leaving a trail of aching hearts wherever he goes. Until he meets stunning Celine who makes him want to have a rethink.

In a clash of stunning attraction, these two begin to play wicked sensual games and even as Celine knows that the deal between them is businesslike, she finds herself falling head over heels for Damien.

But when she discovers a deadly secret, something that makes her choose between vengeance and Damien, devastated Celine is stuck between her head and her heart. Who should her loyalty lie with? Damien? Or her dead parents?

A thrilling tale of love, lust and revenge.

Angela currently plunges into poverty that forces her to went into prostitution where she sells her body to keep her two younger siblings alive, paying their school fees and put food on their table at least twice a day.

Despite experiencing the whip of life, she didn't lose hope. She believes one day she will be freed from prostitution, she will feel loved, respected and cared for. She still believes there's someone who will come to hold her hand and help her to get out of the mud. And the person who's going to save her is her childhood friend who went abroad to study way back seven years ago.

What if her childhood friend came back all of the sudden? Is she will going to reveal her secret as a prostitute just to make her save by him? Or hide it just to make her man stay in her life?

Is it possible for a prostitute like her to have a happy ever after to a knight shimmering shining armor like in books and fairytales?

Let's find out in The Prostitute.

Innocent Sally Greens is made to replace her sister Renae at the altar in a bid to secure a very important partnership between her family and The ruthless Colbert Family. Her marriage is doomed before it even begins and soon enough she finds herself entangled in a web she created. On one hand is her loving obsessed husband and on the other hand is the promise she made to Renae in exchange for a sisterly love. The story uncovers a lot of dark secrets about the main objective of the marriage, family ties and deep rooted betrayal from hidden characters. Will innocent Sally evolve into a ruthless character to protect the ones she love?.

“ Go fuck yourself Leonardo” She muttered
“ Nah Isabella, if I am going to be fucking anyone it will be you princess” he replied teasingly
“You wish, and I will say it again, go fuck yourself,” she said again but this time louder
“Say fuck one more time, princess, just say it,” he said in a threatening voice as he walked closer to her.
“Fuck yourself,” she said it again before she could stare back at him again.
The air crackled with tension as his lips forcefully met her, a collision of passion and desire. His hands gripped her waist tightly, pulling her closer as he devoured her mouth hungrily. She tried to stop him but she couldn't, his hands were so strong and all the senses in her body wanted that kiss more than anything. The kiss was intense, and the world melted away around them as they lost themselves in the overwhelming sensation, leaving them breathless and longing for more.

Isabella Rossi, a calm sheltered Nineteen-year-old is kidnapped by a dangerous Mafia lord Leonardo Romano who had taken fancy of her the first time they met when she was just fourteen when he came for a meeting with her Dad. Leonardo Romano uses her as leverage to find out about the past that led to his father's death while still trying to claim her. As she learns more about her father's past and the secrets he may be hiding, Isabella navigates her growing feelings for the man who wants to claim her as his own. Will she succumb to the allure of power and danger, or will she uncover the truth behind her father's link to the mafia boss and the real reason behind her kidnap?

Nora Vale inherits three million dollars and a ruined seaside motel from an aunt her family called impossible.

She tells no one. Not even Rowan, her exhausted mechanic husband, who has spent years letting his family drain him dry.

Instead, Nora tells one dangerous lie: her design studio has collapsed, and she has lost everything.

Rowan does not blame her. He does not leave. He takes her hand and says, "Then we rebuild. You and me."

But the inheritance is not just money. Harbor Mile Motel hides records of a predatory company buying coastal properties through debt, fear, and family pressure. Rowan's brother is involved. Nora's aunt may not have died as quietly as everyone believed.

Now Nora must learn that money can buy time, repairs, and lawyers, but it cannot buy trust. And Rowan must decide whether the woman who lied to test his love is still the woman he wants to build a future with.

Olivia

Sold to pay off a debt, sinfully hot Matteo has thrown me into his dark mansion, with no intention of letting me go. He's dominant, ruthless, cold… And he's also something wicked—a sexy as hell alpha male.

I should run the second he puts his rough hands all over my innocent body. I shouldn't let him tear my panties off. But I do. He's going to break me, turning me into his slave. He demands complete obedience, and I want to resist. I do. But my dark, rebellious heart won't let me.

Matteo

I've never wanted to ruin someone as much as I want to ruin her. She's the picture of innocence. Soft skin free from the toil of real work, pretty lips for sucking and the defiance in her eyes. I can't wait to break her. To make her beg for mercy. To cry out my name when I steal the one thing she's never given to another man.

She thinks she can charm me into letting her go. But she doesn't recognize the way the devil dances in my soul. I never expected her to become my obsession. But she is. And now I need to get rid of her before she consumes me.

Travis Savage and I were a notorious public pair, bound together by nothing but hatred.

In the glittering, indulgent world of Chicago, he was an untouchable mafia king who ruled with absolute power, making and breaking rules on a whim. And I? I was the wife he loathed above all others in his criminal empire.

It all started when my parents lost their lives saving him, gunned down by his rivals. After their deaths, he kept me close as I grew up, and eventually, our marriage became what everyone expected. For a long time, he was my only anchor in this lonely world.

Once, he’d knelt before me and sworn to protect me for the rest of my life.

Now, he hated me.

He hated that I refused to sign the divorce papers, that I stood in the way of him running off with Renee Sutton — the orphan girl he claimed to have rescued off the streets.

He let her walk all over me and flaunt herself openly in front of me. To get back at them, I leaked their sordid secrets overnight across all of Chicago: their flirty messages, their hotel stays. Word spread through both the criminal underworld and high society alike, leaving the pair mocked and shunned by everyone.

Our marriage had rotted away years ago, worn thin by endless mutual resentment. It was stagnant, foul, and long dead.

Until three days ago.

A string of ambushes left Travis a hunted man. While swerving to avoid an oncoming truck, he was involved in a devastating car crash.

He lay unconscious in the ICU for three full days. When he woke, he claimed he’d forgotten every ounce of the nine years of hatred between us. In his mind, he was still nineteen — the age when he loved me with everything he had.

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.

The Alaskan winds cut across my face like knives, but only one thought consumed me—why hadn't Madison shown up to get me? In ten years, my sister had never failed to be there.

Until I walked in on my brother-in-law tangled up with some blonde bitch, and my world shattered. "Fallen through ice in a blizzard"? What a goddamn lie. They cut open her eight-month pregnant belly to steal her baby—while she was still conscious. They let her suffer for 47 excruciating minutes before she died.

I didn't break out of the psych ward to cry about it. I came back so these monsters can pay their blood debts in full. They think I was born wicked? Fine. Let me show them exactly how it feels to have your living body sliced open.

I suffered from a severe congenital heart defect.

And my mother, Jamie, had terminal bone cancer.

My family was not a happy one. It marked the third year since my father, Nelson, had openly and unapologetically betrayed their marriage.

That morning, my mother swallowed a handful of painkillers and forced herself to stand up from her wheelchair.

She asked her best friend, Zoey, who was also my attending physician, to forge a medical report.

Zoey trembled with anger, her tears dropping heavily onto the paper.

"Jamie, are you crazy? Your bones are being eaten away by cancer cells every single day. You're in so much pain you bang your head against the wall all night. Why would you fake a clean bill of health?"

"Do you think that bastard Nelson will change his mind and come back to you just because you pretend to be healthy?"

I thought I was the perfect wife and mother, until I heard my husband outside his office, laughing, calling me a "prison warden" and planning to use our daughter as cover while he ran off to Tuscany with his grad student.

Everything fell apart. Then my daughter, in front of everyone: "That's just our annoying nanny."

I tried to hold on to what was left of our family, but my daughter shoved me down the stairs. I lost the baby, and my husband just checked his watch while I bled out on the floor.

They locked me in and left for Italy.

Alone in the hospital, they told me I'd lost the baby and had "memory damage."

Now they're back, expecting the same obedient wife.

She's gone.

And I'm done loving them.

I used to be the nation's top lock-picking expert. I saved countless lives.

But I couldn't save my own daughter.

At the dock, two children were strapped to bombs.

The girl had less time—I should've saved her first.

But my husband Damien held a knife to his throat, forcing me to save the other one first.

His illegitimate son.

I compromised.

The moment I opened the lock, the kidnapper ripped off the girl's hood.

I never expected her to be Rosie.

My five-year-old daughter.

She looked at me.

Her lips moved, forming the word "Mommy."

Then the explosion tore through everything...

He proposed to me the day he woke up from coma.

I was so happy, and thought I would finally have my happily ever after.

I was wrong.

Three years later, I was slapped with divorce papers, and lost my baby.

My husand had chose my sister, and abandoned me.

And that was his worst mistake.

I thought that after twenty years with the Sterlings—even as an adopted child—I'd at least count as family. But the day they found their biological daughter Victoria, they announced they were throwing me out and planned to humiliate me at the family gathering. Based on what right?

Even more disgusting was how my almost-fiancé Blake immediately started fooling around with Victoria, eager to watch me get kicked to the curb!

When everyone was lining up to step on me, it was Alexander—the one I'm supposed to call "stepbrother"—who protected me. In his apartment, when he stood behind me gripping my hand as I chopped vegetables, his breath grazing my ear before he finally bent down to kiss me... my heartbeat went completely erratic.

My biggest regret? Trusting my husband with my mother's life.

The day the mudslide hit, I was on my knees. Begging him to send a helicopter.

He told me to wait. Twenty minutes. But when the helicopter came, it went for his adoptive sister Vivian instead.

I held my mother in the ruins. Her body was shutting down. I waited. Waited until she went cold in my arms.

When he finally showed up at the hospital, the first thing he said? Accused me of faking it. Said I just wanted attention.

In that moment, my heart died too.

Later, I found out Vivian wasn't even sick.

She said "I don't feel well"—that's all it took. And he left my mother and me to die.

Called me a lunatic. In front of everyone. All for her.

I was ready to leave. For good. Then someone shattered my mother's ashes.

On the day I got engaged to the heir of an elite old-money family, my own birth mother spread vicious lies about me in front of the entire crowd. She claimed I’d lived a wildly promiscuous life while studying abroad, and had even secretly given birth to a stillborn child with no known father.
Afterwards, she took my hand and sobbed out an apology, saying she’d only wanted to test whether my fiancé truly loved me enough to stand by me. I was foolish enough to believe her, and drank the calming tea she’d personally handed me.
When I opened my eyes the next morning, everything was destroyed. I lay in my bedroom, disheveled and half-dressed, and the man beside me was none other than my younger sister’s boyfriend.
In the end, my fiancé married my sister. And I was mercilessly disowned and cast out by my own family.
But twenty years later, every single one of them would come to regret what they’d done.

I remember that frost-covered train door like it was the last thing I ever saw. Because it was.
The escape spot I’d spent three years scraping together? My fiancée was sitting in it, wearing my parka. Her brother had my hiking boots on his feet. Her mother clutched the medical kit I’d carried six miles through ash-covered roads. And Caleb Frost—the ex she’d sworn was just “someone from the past”—stood in the seat that should have been mine, lifting my silver emergency flask in a toast.
While I froze out in the subzero ash storm, my lungs burning like they were filled with shards of broken glass, they turned their backs to me under the warm yellow light inside.
Then I woke up.
The calendar read May 3, 2041. Exactly one year before the Yellowstone chain eruption would turn the northern hemisphere into a frozen grave.
On the TV, experts were still downplaying the volcanic tremors, insisting there was no immediate risk to the public. My fiancée walked into the bedroom wearing one of my white shirts, carrying coffee in the blue mug she’d bought with my card. She reached for my forehead, asking if I’d had a bad dream.
None of them know I’ve already died once.
They’re still plotting how to make me pay for her brother’s failed investments, how to sneak texts to her old boyfriend, how to use me as their most obedient, most useful doormat until the world ends. I’ve sold the downtown office towers, mortgaged the lakefront house, bought the abandoned geothermal station no one wanted in the dead mountains, and signed a stack of engineering contracts they’ll never bother to read.
They still smile and thank me, tell me I’m the best fiancé in the world.
They have no idea who will be holding the key to the door, when the sky goes dark forever and the snow never stops falling.

“Smile, Natalie,” Callum whispered before he walked onstage.

So I smiled while he thanked another woman for the crisis plan I had written. I smiled when he pinned my grandmother’s sapphire brooch to her dress. I even smiled when his message came in, canceling our nineteenth appointment at the county clerk’s office.

Then I walked out with our unsigned marriage license papers in my purse and called the one CEO he hated most.

By the time Callum realized I wasn’t waiting anymore, I had already taken my name, my work, and my future back.

It had only been seventeen minutes since my wife passed away. My daughter was sobbing on the phone.

"Dad, they're trying to drive me out."

I stared at the medical report in the doctor's hand.

The first natural antibody carrier.Toxin levels in the blood: zero.

The same poison that killed my wife, that killed my six-year-old son…had left me completely unharmed.

The doctor lowered his voice."Mr. Miller, you have to stay. They're sending people to pick you up."

I let out a cold laugh.

"My daughter is trapped in the basement storage room right now. Is anyone here going to help her?"

Silence fell over everyone.

I grabbed the glass water cup from the bedside table.

"Five years ago, they handed me a disciplinary penalty and fired me from the rescue team. Everyone said I was good for nothing."

The cup smashed against the floor.

I picked up the longest shard of broken glass.

"Today, I'll show you all how a useless man saves lives."