859 Book(s) Related to i am ironman

I used to be an ordinary person — until one day, my younger brother killed someone.
Everyone got down on their knees, begging me to save him. So I took his place and went to prison.
On the day I was released, my fiancée Teresa publicly broke off the engagement: "A convict like you doesn't deserve me!"
My adoptive parents disowned me on the spot and kicked me out: "You're a murderer. We don't care if you live or die!"
I agreed to everything right then and there.
But when they found out who I really was, they regretted it.

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?

Zoe Anthony had one mission: assassinate Alpha Jeremy Dylan, the ruthless monster whose family slaughtered her parents. But when her sniper bullet misses and plunges his little sister into a coma, Zoe becomes the most hated captive in the Lakewood Pack.

Bound and marked to be burned alive, she expects a brutal end. Instead, a single touch from the devastatingly handsome Alpha changes everything.

For twenty-nine years, Jeremy has been frozen by a dark curse—unable to feel desire for any woman. Until Zoe. Her touch is the only medicine that wakes his inner beast.

Spared from the fire but condemned to his torment, Zoe is made his slave. By day, she endures the pack's cruelty. By night, she belongs entirely to the Alpha who vows to break her. But the Moon Goddess plays the ultimate trick: they are fated mates.

When a deadly conspiracy forces Jeremy to pull the trigger on her himself, he thinks he’s buried his problem. He doesn’t know Zoe survived. He doesn't know she's carrying his secret heir—the most powerful Alpha ever conceived. And he certainly doesn’t know that the mysterious, lethal foreign princess entering his pack months later is the very same slave girl returned to burn his kingdom to the ground...

One trigger. Two enemies. A bond written in blood.

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.

She rejected him once. Now she must marry him—or watch her pack burn.
Kira Thorne never wanted a mate. As heir to the Crescent Vale Pack, she's spent her life proving she doesn't need one—especially not Damon Reed, the arrogant alpha whose bond she rejected six years ago. But when a territorial war threatens to destroy everything she's sworn to protect, her father makes an impossible choice: marry Damon to forge an alliance, or surrender their lands to their enemies.
Damon has spent years building his power, trying to forget the woman who shattered his pride. Now she's back in his life—not as his fated mate, but as a political pawn. The mate bond still burns between them, a constant reminder of what could have been. But this marriage isn't about love. It's about survival.
As negotiations turn into dangerous games of power and control, Kira and Damon must navigate a minefield of old wounds, pack politics, and an enemy who wants them both dead. The war they're trying to prevent may be inevitable—unless they can learn to trust the one person they swore to hate.

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.

She was supposed to be powerless.

Everyone told her so: her family, her pack, and society itself.
Ravenna Vale was the mistake, the outcast, the shadow they were all ashamed to acknowledge.

But when her hidden power awakened, everything changed.

The Alpha wants her obedience.
The Council wants her compliance.
Her family wants her silence.

And Ravenna?
She wants none of it.

When a hidden Lycan discovers that she's not only powerful, but also unstoppable, she refuses to bow to anyone.
Not her family. Not the Pack. Not destiny.

She will rewrite the rules of their world.

This is the story of the woman who chose to become the feared Alpha, not the one they wanted her to be.

Welcome to HER reckoning.

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?

Eight years ago, I formed a mate bond with Alpha Lucian Blackwood, ruler of the Silver Fang Pack, and became his Luna.
I thought it was a blessing from the Moon Goddess.
Only when he brought home that sick she-wolf, Jasmine Moon, did I finally understand.
I was nothing but a substitute.
A tool meant to take care of him and his son.
And now, they wanted me to hand over even the last of my dignity.

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.

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]

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.

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.

I was kidnapped. My brother drugged me and sold me to the Serpent Pack.
The desire was getting stronger, and my heart was in despair. Suddenly, a man appeared and told me that I was safe. I didn't know who he is, but I wanted him so badly. He told me he is Owen and demanded I remember his name.
I hope my mate Blake could forgive me. I had no choice.
When I went to tell Blake about all this, I was shocked by what I saw. Blake was sleeping with his good friend Jeremy! OMG! My mate is gay!
While filming them to keep some evidence, Owen showed up...

I was drugged by my stepmother and betrayed by my boyfriend.
When I woke up in a stranger's bed, I realized I had been set up - used, humiliated, discarded.
The worst part? That cold, dangerous man... was my stepsister's fiancé.
I tried to run. I tried to disappear. But fate had other plans - I was pregnant. With his child.
Theodore Sterling - rich, ruthless, and utterly untouchable - offered me marriage.
"Congratulations," he sneered. "You finally got what you wanted - me."
So I became his wife. The scandal. The shame of the Reynolds family. The woman everyone hated.
He said he didn't want me.
But he never let me go.
I said I hated him.
But I couldn't stop falling.
This isn't just a forced marriage.
It's revenge, obsession, and a love I never saw coming.

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?"

Maya Cross woke up in a nightmare—trapped in the body of a sadistic villain who'd tortured five powerful beastmen into submission.
Good news? She finally had the power to break their bonds and set them free.
Bad news? They were stranded on a dying ship surrounded by Zerg swarms, with zero rescue coming.
The first was Caleb, a snake beastman whose red eyes burned with pure hatred. Every time he looked at her, she saw the memory of chains and venom extraction.
The second was Finn, an aquatic beastman whose scales she'd ripped off one by one. He could barely stand to be in the same room without his hands shaking with rage.
The third was Sage, a griffin beastman she'd tormented so badly he barely went a day without fresh wounds.
The fourth was Hunter, a lion beastman she'd mocked relentlessly, calling his beast form hideous and grotesque.
The fifth was Jasper, a fox beastman whose face she'd scarred so badly he'd lost his consortium inheritance.
"Protect me until I find my father," Maya told them, drawing her own blood, "and I'll give you what you need to break our bond."
Caleb laughed bitterly. "Since when do you make deals instead of demands?"
"Since we're all dead if we don't work together."
But when survival depends on trust, can a torturer become a savior—or will her victims choose revenge over rescue?

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.

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!”

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.

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...

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.

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'm Jennifer, a stay-at-home mom. I gave up my art career eight years ago to take care of my family. My husband Julian and my son Garry, they're my whole world.

But lately, I've noticed them getting closer to Mia, Julian's secretary. Little things. Garry asking where "Miss Mia" is. Julian mentioning her at dinner. I told myself it was nothing. I kept quiet. I put up with it.

Until last week, when Garry broke his arm playing hockey. The school called Mia, not me. She was listed as his emergency contact.

That's when I knew I was done.

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 parents ruined my wedding six times.

Every single time, right at the moment the ring was about to slip onto my finger—the first time, Mom knocked over the champagne tower. The second time, Dad drove his pickup truck straight through the floral arch... Either the groom wasn't good enough, or the wedding was too cheap. Each time was more batshit crazy than the last. The sixth time, Mom even held a knife to her own throat, threatening me not to put on the ring.

It made no sense to me—why push me to get married while doing everything to stop me from wearing that ring?

So for the seventh wedding, I chose a small chapel in a remote mountain area, went completely off-grid, dead certain they'd never track me down.

Just as Ethan was about to slide the ring onto my finger—

The chapel doors burst open.

Two figures stumbled in, gasping for air, faces streaked with tears.

My parents.

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.

“I, alpha Ri Dylan, reject you as my mate, Mona Ryan. I have affairs with many women, Mona. Stronger women who are very different from you, I am not a one-mate kind of guy, and believe me when I say this; this rejection will favor you more than it will me because I am not the wolf you would want to be mated with.”

On her 18th birthday, Omega Mona felt the mate pull and was encouraged by her parents to go and meet her mate for the first time. Upon meeting him in the forest, he was devastated to hear that her mate was alpha Ri Dylan of the Lycan pack, the alpha that most wolves feared and hated. She then ran away and didn't say a word to him because of her surprise and disappointment.

“He's no good to reckon with, he's dangerous, he's not trustworthy, and he's the last person in this world you should have any business with.”
Mona has been warned severally about Ri Dylan. What will she do when finding that the goddess has arranged this big, bad, and dreaded alpha who rejected her to be her fated mate?

His ex‑mate had come back.
The one he’d loved before our pack arranged this bond.
I was just the contract wife.
I knew my place. So I laid the divorce papers on his desk, calm and final.
“Sign it. You don’t need me anymore.”
He stared at me like I’d grown a second head.
Then his jaw tightened, that wolf dominance flaring in his eyes—raw, territorial, furious.
He stepped close, caging me against the wall, his voice a low, dangerous growl.
“Need you? I don’t need you. I own you.
You think you get to choose when this bond ends?
You don’t run. You don’t leave.
You don’t get to divorce me. Not now. Not ever.
You’re mine!"

Maddison Huston loses everything in one night; her job, her home, her reputation, and the man she loved. Branded a seductress and cast aside at her ex-lover’s wedding, she is left broken, homeless, and humiliated.
One drunken night leads to a dangerous encounter with a stranger whose touch she can’t forget, only to discover he is Aldric Hawthorne, the ruthless CEO who holds her fate in his hands.


“That’s how you show appreciation?” he asked quietly. “To someone who saved you from danger? Protected you because you were careless enough to drink yourself unconscious in a bar?”
I blinked in confusion. “Protected… me?”
“Yes. And you dare accuse me of taking advantage of you? Seriously, Miss Huston?” He stopped in front of me and trailed his eyes from my legs up to my face.
I felt cornered, stupid and confused.
“No, I remember everything.” I tried to keep my voice steady but my shaking breaths betrayed me. “You kissed me, you touched me, you even…” I trailed on my last words because I couldn’t bring myself to say it.
His eyes glinted with something I couldn’t read.
“You don’t seem to have recovered from the alcohol,” he said with a smirk on his face, stepping closer while I backed away until my back hit the wall.
His arm braced beside my head, and my breath caught as he leaned in, heat radiating from his body like fire contained in a man.
“You must be so delusional to have imagined me having sex with you,” he murmured, his lips brushing so close to my ear my knees weakened.
My breath stuttered. “I didn’t imagine—”
He lifted my chin to look at him, his mouth hovered on my lips and his hot breaths hitting my face;
My heart was beating so fast at the closeness and the look in his eyes, like he was going to devour me.
Then his voice dropped into a dark whisper behind my ear.
“I don’t fuck virgins.”
My stomach flipped as his breath grazed my neck.
How did he know?

Sophie, a mother of one who had gotten pregnant and was abandoned by her lover Ryan. She gets back on her feet and is determined to work hard for a better life for her daughter.Fate plays it tricks as she meets a billionaire who she had met when her Ex lover Ryan dumped her. Her daughter Selena brings him home in a plot to get her married to a man.Sophie however recognizes him as the stranger from many nights ago.
She felt he took advantage of her vulnerability and agrees to marry him as he proposes marriage to her and she plots to take her revenge. But that was not the case. How can this misunderstanding be resolved?Her ex returns to make amends and wants to reunite with his new found family. What does fate have in stock for them?Will Sophie agree to go back or be with the man she thought took advantage of her. Watch out as it unfolds......

Evelyn Vale plans weddings, memorials, and private family ceremonies for people who care too much about how grief looks on camera. She knows lighting, timing, guest flow, and the hidden machinery behind a perfect public moment.

Then one night, while sitting beside the husband who kisses her goodnight, she sees a livestream event scheduled for tomorrow: her own memorial service.

The cover uses her mourning portrait. Grant, her husband, is posed as the devastated widower. Serena, her half sister, stands beside him like a woman already rehearsing the role of replacement wife.

At first Evelyn wants it to be a mistake. Then the invoices appear. The funeral campaign is paid for. The backend record existed. Someone with internal clearance created it, deleted it, and expected Evelyn to die before the broadcast.

Julian Cross, a former livestream safety investigator disgraced by an old death case, is the first person who treats Evelyn's fear as evidence. Together they follow the countdown through funeral contracts, planted comments, medical manipulation, board pressure, platform corruption, and a hidden operator using public grief as a business model.

But Evelyn is not waiting to be rescued. She knows how to build an event. She knows where witnesses should stand, when a microphone should stay open, and how a lie collapses when the room sees the right proof at the right time.

Grant scheduled the funeral.

Evelyn hosts it better.

Molly thought she had the perfect life with her husband. But everything shattered when she discovered his mistress’s pictures hidden inside the house, he claimed to have built for her. The final blow? The mistress wasn’t a stranger at all, but her own sister!
Heartbroken, she signed the divorce papers and woke up drunk in front of her college sweetheart, Giovanni Dawson, who now ruled the underworld. Giovanni wants to help her take revenge and win her heart, but can she trust him after he broke her heart once?
And oh, he comes with a mysterious four-year-old boy who is determined to keep every woman out of his life for good.

"The clocks stopped at 12:01 AM and a burning sigil carved itself into my spine. That's when they came for me."

Thalira Moonwhisper thought she was ordinary—until her seventeenth birthday, when two men in dark cloaks appeared at her door.

"It's time. You're coming with us."

At Duskmoor Academy, four impossibly beautiful boys claim they've been waiting fifty years for her return.

"You've died four times and each time we failed to save you."

But Thalira doesn't remember dying. She doesn't remember them. Doesn't remember the ancient power inside her that can bend time itself.

Then her twin sister Luna arrives with a desperate warning:

"A serial killer is hunting our pack and he's been watching us since we were children."

The killer knows what Thalira really is. And he's not working alone.

"I've been waiting for you little phoenix. Your father sends his regards."

Four deaths. Four soul-bound boys. One twin she never knew. And an ancient prophecy that says the Moonwhisper sisters will either save the world or watch it burn.

"You're not just a Phoenix Soul Thalira. You're the weapon that ends everything."

Sometimes the person you're destined to save is yourself.

"I WANT DIVORCE!" I shouted, my voice echoing off the walls.
The room fell silent. Alexander stopped in his tracks; his back still turned to me. I could sense his tension, his surprise. But I didn't care. I meant it. I wanted out of this loveless, abusive marriage. I wanted to be free.
Slowly, Alexander turned around, his eyes narrowing as he looked at me. But I didn't flinch. I held his gaze, my eyes blazing with determination. I was done. I was finally done with this toxic marriage, done with being treated like a doormat. I wanted my freedom, and I was ready to fight for it.
Alexander's steps halted, his cold face turning towards me with a mixture of shock and disdain. "What did you say?" he asked, his voice dripping with ice.
I stood my ground, meeting his gaze with matching coldness. No fear, no softness, just a resolute determination. "I want divorce, Mr. Alexander Valtor," I repeated, my voice firm and clear.
Alexander's expression twisted in contempt. "Don't you think it should be me who asks for divorce? I am the one who was forced to marry a girl like you."

After three years of marriage, the first thing my husband did upon waking from his vegetative state was to humiliate me for my stepsister. I once thought that my three years of devoted care would earn me a shred of his affection, only to discover that he had always loved the woman who stole everything from me including my identity. For her sake, he forced me to leave with nothing and had me blacklisted throughout the city.

But what they didn't know was that the woman they discarded like a piece of trash would shed her apron and become a legendary racer who struck fear into the hearts of the entire racing world. When my husband's archrival extended an olive branch to me, this game of revenge began—who will ultimately be the winner?