4335 Book(s) Related to bye my irresistible love online free

"I never loved you. You were just a placeholder for her."
On our third anniversary, I held my four-month pregnancy scan, ready to surprise my husband. Instead, I found him with my twin sister, Yulia.
The betrayal was swift and absolute.
"I'm pregnant with his child," Yulia sneered. "The heir you couldn't give him."
When I slapped the sister who stole my life, Franklin didn't hesitate—he slapped me back.
"Touch my woman again, and I'll make you regret it," he roared. To him, I was just a "convenience," a body to fill a space. To her, I was a joke.
That night, he threw me into a torrential storm with nothing but divorce papers.
"Please, Frank... I'm pregnant..." I sobbed against the locked door. He didn't open it. Inside, my sister was already in my bed, wearing my clothes.
As I collapsed in the mud, a Rolls-Royce stopped. George Williams, the billionaire I once saved, stepped into the rain.
"If he doesn't want this child," George whispered, lifting me up, "I will."
Seven years later.
Franklin is back, begging for the wife he discarded. But I'm no longer that broken girl. And when he sees the twin boys who carry his eyes but call another man "Daddy"—he'll realize that some mistakes can never be undone.

You don’t marry the devil and expect to walk away…

Two years ago, I made the most reckless decision of my life. I married a stranger — a dangerously sharp Russian with eyes like winter storms and a voice that curled around your spine.

It was supposed to be fake.
A quick, quiet wedding on a borrowed yacht.
A loophole to stop my billionaire father from selling me off to some corporate puppet in a boardroom marriage.

But the stranger-the man I begged for help—wasn’t just some wealthy businessman in an expensive suit. He was Mikhail Volkov. A Bratva king. Cold. Ruthless. Calculating.

I left him divorce papers and two million dollars on his bed the next morning… and vanished.

But the past doesn’t stay buried. And men like him don’t forget unfinished business.

Two years later, under a new name and a quiet life halfway across the world, I thought I was safe. Until my new company gets bought out. By him.

Mikhail Volkov.

He came for me.

And this time, running isn’t an option.

“Why the hell are you calling me your wife?” I snap, shoving the contract across his desk. “I paid you off. I left divorce papers. Signed.”

He steps closer, all tailored dominance and lethal calm, his voice low enough to scrape against my bones.
"You don’t end things with me unless I say so, moya zhena. And I don’t marry… to divorce."

I’m not free. I’m his unfinished business. And now? I belong to him… whether I want to or not.

Isabel Reyes doesn't have time for a soulmate; she has ten minutes to figure out how to turn forty-two dollars of espresso tips into a month of rent. Between double shifts at the Vance & Co. campus café and maintaining a 4.0 GPA, her survival depends on one thing: the single medical school recommendation letter her department grants each year.

But Chase, her high-status ex-boyfriend and senior TA, has a different plan. Using "institutional rigor" as a weapon, he’s sabotaging her grades and holding her future hostage to keep her under his thumb.

Then Leo; Moody, brilliant, and perpetually hiding in a thrift hoodie in the library basement. He looks like a lost poet, but a dropped ID card reveals the truth: Leo is a Vance. As in, the name on the buildings, the logo on Isabel’s apron, and the family that owns the very scholarship she’s about to lose.

Leo has his own trap. His powerful mother, Eleanor, is ready to pull him from campus and install him in a corner office unless he can prove he’s "capable of a normal life." He needs a grounded, non-socialite girlfriend to act as his human shield.

The Deal was for One semester they would Fake dining hall dates. Staged library proximity. The Prize for her, a recommendation letter Chase can’t touch. For him, the autonomy to stay in the numbers and out of a suit. The Rule: No real feelings. No telling the truth.

But between 2 a.m. voice notes and the electric friction of shared library carrels, the "meal plan math" is starting to fail.

He’s the brand. She’s the worker. Will this relationship break every rule in the book?

“Lucy stole my fiancé.”

My best friend stared at me.

“So?”

I smiled.

“So I'm going to marry her uncle.”

I never planned to become Manhattan's biggest scandal.

But after my fiancé, Kyle, cheated on me with Lucy—and I discovered that I was drugged, left in a stranger's bed, and pregnant with a baby whose father I couldn't remember—I was done being the woman everyone could betray.

Lucy stole my man?

Fine.

I'd become her family.

I walked into billionaire Adrian Wells's office, claimed he was the father of my unborn baby, and proposed a contract marriage.

One year. One billionaire husband. One unborn heir.

It was supposed to be the perfect revenge.

Then Kyle wanted me back. Lucy tried to destroy me. My coworkers came after my career.

And Adrian—the ruthless man I thought I could use—turned out to be the most dangerous temptation of all.

I married him to punish the people who betrayed me. But what will happen when they expose the one lie that could make my husband betray me too?

"Don’t... stop...” she implored before she moaned again.

“I must say, this interview didn't go quite how I expected it.” He admitted. His featherlight finger dragged across her boobs as his face hovers over hers.

“Are you ready to work hard for me? I don’t promise to go easy on you.” He whispered in her ear.

“Oh... Yes....” She moaned out, “Anything you need,” she whispered.

Isabella walked into the busy halls of Grayson’s Enterprise with the full intention of getting hired as the Supervisor of Ethan Grayson, The CEO of the company.

It was time for her interview with the CEO, their eyes met.

He had the kind of face that stopped you in your tracks.

And from that day after Isabella had gotten the job, she knew something hot was going to happen between them although he was engaged already."

"You're my brother's biggest rival."

Turner smirked. "And?"

"And Liam would literally kill us."

"Then it's a good thing we're not actually dating."

Ezra Beckley only agrees to fake date hockey captain Turner Fisher to save himself from a campus-wide rumor disaster. The arrangement is simple: pretend to be boyfriends for three months, fix their reputations, and walk away.

No kissing.

No feelings.

And absolutely no telling Liam Beckley—Ezra's overprotective older brother and Turner's biggest rival. The plan should have been easy, till Turner starts looking at him like he's something worth choosing.

And suddenly, the fake relationship feels dangerously real.

Getting dumped by my boyfriend was humiliating. Falling for his uncle? That
might just ruin us all.
I spent two years loving Jamiel Vaughn.
Preston Academy’s hockey star. Everyone’s golden boy. And the boyfriend I
thought I’d spend far more than one winter with.
Then he dumped me with a text while I stood on the ice waiting for him.
We’re over.
That was it.
No explanation. No goodbye. Just two words that shattered everything I thought I
knew about us.
But Jamiel wasn’t the Vaughn who showed up for me that night.
His uncle was.
Calix Vaughn is older, dangerously attractive, completely off-limits—and the last
man I should be anywhere near after getting my heart broken by his nephew.
There’s just one tiny problem.
Calix wanted me first.
Before Jamiel. Before the relationship. Before two years passed with both of us
pretending there had never been something between us.
Jamiel may have been the one who got me first.
But now he’s thrown me away.
And Calix?
He’s done watching his nephew have the woman he wanted all along.

In a world where two wolf packs, the Moonblood, and Silver Claw, once fought a brutal war, Alpha Alex and Alpha Morgan are now forced into a marriage by the Moon Goddess to keep the peace, even though they are not mates and are both under a curse of not feeling the mate bond ever in their lifetime. Morgan is a stubborn Luna and Alex is a possessive and controlling alpha. The both of them can't stand each hold but are forced to be lovers rather than enemies, and not everyone is happy about this arrangement on both pack sides since the thirst for their enemies' blood and revenge is still strong in the hearts of members of the packs. But what happens when Morgan is forced into a contract with Alex to bear his heir as a sign of her loyalty to his pack, and Alex gets put in the position to either stand with his pack and kill Morgan or believe her innocence and fight for her after she gets accuse of killing their unborn baby?

Flora had to work three jobs to feed three people at the same time, her husband was a man without money, without work, lazy and worthless, but she always loved him. But in response to Flora's sincerity, Enzo – her ex-husband - treated her only as a servant and as a sexual slave. She couldn't stand the humiliation, so she decided to divorce. But after the divorce she discovered the true identity of her ex-husband, he is not a useless man but the CEO of a large multinational corporation. What's Going On? Why did her ex-husband hide her? He never spent a dollar on her or their little daughter. Does she regret choosing to divorce her ex-husband as in his warning?

Blurb

Jenna’s life shatters when a dangerous-looking stranger corners her asking about Alpha Caesar, the most feared man on campus, survival instinct kicks in.

She lies straight to his face and runs.

But fate has other plans. She thinks she's escaped.

She's wrong.

The man in her bathtub proves it.

Caesar—the ruthless alpha himself—is barely alive in her bathtub, his memories scattered like the trail of carnage he left behind. Jenna patches him up, counting the hours until she can shove him out her door and reclaim her quiet life.

But when Caesar's eyes finally open, everything changes. He looks at her like she's the answer to a question she never asked. His words raw and impossible;

"Mate."

One word. Her whole world tilts.

Because if Caesar believes she's his mate, whoever tried to kill him will be coming for her next. And the man who can't remember his own name somehow remembers her in ways that make her blood run cold.

How can Jenna escape from the possessive grip of the Alpha who have sworn to never let her go?

Surprisingly, he moved closer to me, and gently placed his hands on my chest. "See, I can feel your breathing! You are indeed scared!"
Sadly, my body was betraying me! I was angry that his touches made me shiver. "Alexander Gray is my enemy, and I must hate him! I need to detest him!" I kept telling myself.


Aria's life takes a dark turn when she's betrayed and murdered by her boyfriend, Adrian, a powerful werewolf. But death is not the end. Resurrected by a malevolent demon lord, Aria returns to the living world with a mission: seek vengeance on the one who wronged her.
But Aria's vengeance takes an unexpected twist when she encounters Alex, Adrian's twin brother. Mistaken identity leads her to plan his demise, but as secrets unravel, Aria finds herself falling for the very person she sought to destroy.

"They say that you killed my best friend, Julian," I whispered, pressing against the wall of the quiet library, having nowhere to escape.
"They say a lot of things about me, Chloe." He responded, his fingers gently tracing the corner of my lips, making me shudder.
"Did you? Did you kill her?" I found myself asking, and his lips lifted in a smile as his fingers travelled down my throat.
"Will you run away from me if I said yes?" His question made me freeze. Will I? Because the answer to that question was tough.
"No," I answered, closing my eyes when his bruised knuckles gently rubbed my cheeks.
I woke up on a hospital bed with no memories of the last six months. While I struggled to remember anything, one name kept echoing in my head.
Julian.
Everyone calls him a monster. For the world, he is an intimidating, violent, and brooding outcast. And worse of all, he is the prime suspect in my best friend, Rachel's, murder.
I should stay away from him. I shouldn't even think of crossing paths with him, but every single moment, I only find myself wondering about the stranger I don't remember but can't get rid of.
There's a dangerous, mysterious pull that drags me closer to him. And I know he feels it too because no matter how hard he pushes me away, he's shielding me from everyone.
Wanting to discover my hazy memories and my best friend's real murderer to clear his name, I find myself in a web of lies and manipulation.
The more I try to go back into my past, the more Julian holds me in the dark.
Is he really a ruthless murderer as everyone claims, or is the truth far more horrifying than I know?

I was supposed to be the best man, but when the bride ran away, I was forced to walk down the aisle and marry the arrogant billionaire I despised the most.

The hall was breathtaking. White lilies, crystal chandeliers, and rows of expectant faces waiting for my sister. Instead, they got me. I walked down the aisle with a single flower, a smug grin on my face hiding the absolute panic tearing through my chest.

At the altar stood Rowan Hale. Always perfect. Always in control. Except right now, his hands were clenched into fists so tight his knuckles were white. He was furious.

By the time I reached him, his patience had evaporated. He grabbed my hand in a bone-crushing grip that almost made me swear in front of the priest.

"You sure took your time crawling up here," Rowan whispered, his voice low and dangerous. "Who do you think you are to keep me waiting?"

I managed a sickeningly bright smile. "I didn't know you were this eager to marry me."

I thought he would punch me. I wanted him to. We had been rivals for years, hating each other's guts in the entertainment industry. But instead, his cool mask fell back into place. He slid the heavy wedding band onto my finger, his thumb deliberately pressing into my skin.

"Smile," Rowan whispered against my ear, his breath hot and sending an involuntary shiver down my spine. "Don't want anyone to think you're doing this against your will."

"That wouldn't be further from the truth," I retorted, trying to pull away.

But Rowan’s hand curled completely around my waist, his grip possessive and unyielding. "You will do as you're told, husband."

I thought this fake marriage was just a business deal. I thought we would divorce in a year. But when he dragged me into the hotel penthouse that night and locked the door behind us... I realized Rowan Hale had no intention of ever letting me go.

One sacred rule in the Silver Frost Pack: siblings can never be mates.

Until the moon goddess decided to play a cruel joke.

Killian Fenrirson would kill anyone who dared look at his little sister. As the pack's feared enforcer, protection runs in his blood. But when forbidden desires start haunting his dreams, the very sister he swore to protect becomes his sweetest temptation.

Faye has always lived in her brother's shadow, safe in his unwavering love. That is, until his touch starts burning through her skin and his growl sends shivers down her spine. Now, every moment together is both ecstasy and torture.

But someone in the pack has been watching. Waiting. When jealousy ignites into murderous rage, buried secrets claw their way to the surface. Blood will stain the snow. Bonds will shatter. And one of them will discover just how far they'll go to claim what was never meant to be theirs.

In the Silver Frost Pack, forbidden love doesn't just kill—it devours.

After a devastating accident erased six months of her memory, Jasmine Reyes returns home only to find a mysterious boy watching her from the window across the street every single day. She thinks he's obsessed. She doesn't remember that she once loved him or that the accident that nearly killed her was never an accident at all. As buried memories resurface, Jasmine uncovers a deadly conspiracy, a forgotten first love, and a truth powerful enough to get them both killed.

At the Falcone estate's riding ring, I watched my eight-year-old son Leo mount Starlight, preparing for the most important performance of his young life.
Before the third obstacle, the horse spooked. The instant Leo was thrown, I rushed forward to shield him—the cost was three shattered ribs and a kicked left lung.
When I woke from unconsciousness, I found myself in Dante's private clinic downstairs. From the adjacent room came the doctor's angry voice: "We agreed this was just a marrow extraction. Why did you set up what happened with the horse?"
My husband Dante Falcone's response made my blood run cold: "Leo was Mia's donor. Now that the procedure is complete, there's no point in continuing treatment. Mia is the real heir."
Eight years of marriage. I'd always believed that beneath Dante's cold exterior, Leo was still a son he treasured.
Only now did I understand—from the moment of his birth, Leo had been nothing more than a living donor prepared for his stepsister Mia.
The cruelest irony? Mia, the girl Dante loved so deeply, wasn't even his biological daughter.

Everyone knew my twin sister wouldn't live past eighteen. So they gave her all the love, leaving me to survive in the shadows.
When I suffered a asthma attack on our birthday, my mother locked me in the basement.
"Stop faking it. Don't ruin your sister's last birthday," my mother hissed.
She thought I was throwing a tantrum for attention.
She was wrong.
I died on the cold concrete floor while they sang Happy Birthday upstairs.
Now, I am just a ghost floating in our living room. I watch my parents complain about my selfishness. I watch them make empty promises to treat me better tomorrow.
They don't know there is no tomorrow for me...

My name is Dafu, I am a dog, and I can smell death.

Sweet, cloying spores and a metallic, fishy stench seeped in through the cracks in the door.
The owner's friend was crying and calling for help outside the door , but all I could hear from my nostrils was the gurgling of mucus and the rustling of fungal hyphae climbing—
The person outside had no heartbeat.

The owner ultimately decided to open the door and rescue the person .
no!

I bit his hand tightly , my eyes pleading desperately—
Master, trust me !
That thing outside the door! It's not a person at all!

When I woke up in that hospital bed, legs wrapped in casts and burning like hell, everything came flooding back. This time, I wasn't the naive fool I'd been before.
Tyler, my brother Ryan, and that bitch Savannah—they destroyed me. Turned a gymnastics prodigy into a cripple.
Tyler had the nerve to grab my hand, begging me to forgive Savannah for ruining my legs. My brother chose outsiders over me, screaming about "family reputation."
Fuck their love. Fuck family.
This time around, I've got evidence of the $1.2 million they owe me. I know all their dirty secrets. Round two has started, and I'm done being their victim.
Those three bastards are going to pay back every damn cent they stole from me.

For three years, Caleb Vance and I were the two most mismatched people at Hometown Beans.
We fought every single day, couldn't stand the sight of each other — even Frank, our boss, just assumed it was a matter of time before we tore the place apart.
But I never expected that after one of our fights, an accident would cost me my memory.
And I definitely never expected to wake up to find the man I hated most in the world, his eyes red, telling the doctor:
"I'm her boyfriend. We've been together for three years."
Except I remember perfectly well that we were never together.
So when I decided to fake amnesia, I had no idea I was about to uncover a secret that would upend three years of bad blood between us.
And it all started the day Frank announced he'd be handing Hometown Beans over to one of us.

Six months after our bonding ceremony, I was ambushed by rogue wolves while searching for rare herbs in the Black Forest.
Their poisoned claws shredded my abdomen—and with it, any chance of ever carrying pups.
But my mate held my hand and wept. My mother swore she'd save me. My father said everything would be fine.
How pathetic—
Right before they wheeled me into surgery, I heard them through a cracked door, calmly discussing how to harvest my heart for the adopted sister who'd been waiting six months.
Turns out the "accident" was a gift from my loving family of four.
Turns out the last six months of "coming home" was just them fattening up my heart for harvest.
What they don't know? The voice memo on my phone caught everything.
What they really don't know? Six months from now, I'm coming back—
With a Dark Moon Alliance badge. And a heart much colder than the one they stole.
Shh. Listen.
That stolen heart? It's starting to reject.

In my previous life, I gave the SS-class Furnace Fortress to my sister, and she turned around and stabbed me in the back.
After being reborn, she wanted to take my forest . I smiled and said, "Fine, it's all yours."
This time, I chose the SS-class Forge Fortress.
And I want her to die crying in the yellow sand.

The first thing I do with my second chance is sell off my perfect fiancé for ten million dollars.

The first time around, I became someone else for Julian Whitmore.

He likes nude-toned dresses. Hates when I wear anything with color. He won't let me have more than one glass of champagne in public. Won't let me laugh too loud. Won't let me initiate anything in bed.

His voice is always so calm, like he's correcting a disobedient pet.

I spend three years turning myself into what he wants: docile, proper, flawless. Until depression drags me under. Until that night I lay in the bathtub and watched the water turn red.

When I die, he's still downstairs in his study, editing my speech for tomorrow's charity gala.

When I open my eyes again, I'm sitting in the Winters' living room with that unsigned arrangement in front of me.

This time? Fuck perfect.

But when he lifts that veil at the wedding and realizes the bride isn't me, this man who's spent his whole life in control completely loses it.

Seven years ago, Ronan Blackwood—Alpha of the Beastman Clan—endured 999 lashes and defied the Council's exile to bond with me, a human.

He swore before the gods I'd be his only mate, forever.

But when his childhood sweetheart Camilla was diagnosed with terminal cancer, he dissolved our soul-bond at the Underground Court.

Then he handed me a glowing vial—the Seven-Day Oblivion.

"Sia, I need seven days to give Camilla a proper bonding ceremony before she dies. This potion will make you forget me temporarily. No pain, no memories. After the ceremony, you'll take the antidote and love me again. Then we'll re-bond."

He promised this separation was temporary. That I'd still be his only true mate.

What he didn't know: the potion was forbidden. There was no antidote.

I stared into those amber eyes that once bled for me—and swallowed it anyway.

In seven days, I'll forget him completely.

In order to raise the surgical fees for my "blind" boyfriend, I dedicated three entire years to scrubbing toilets.

I believed I was his eyes, the sole beacon of light in his world of darkness.

Until his birthday arrived, I was confronted with the sight of that "incapable" man—who required my assistance even to drink water—coddling his ex-girlfriend while flirting.

"That fool is still busy cleaning toilets," he chuckled with a patronizing grin, brandishing my late mother's memento to charm that woman. "After all, she outshone you at Parsons. Let her serve me like a dog for three years—that'll be her punishment."

It dawned on me that my sacrifices were but fodder for their idle amusement.

Drying my tears, I turned and dialed the number I had blocked for three years—the one belonging to the fiancé who controlled an entire business empire.

"Sebastian, about that arranged marriage... I accept."

My pack's golden girl—my adopted sister—vanished. On my eighteenth birthday—the day my wolf should have awakened—my parents dragged me to a witch.
"Show us what you did to her."
Fine. Let them look.
Let them see who drugged me the day I came home. Who stole credit while I bled. Who smiled while planning my destruction.
They chose their precious Rosalie over me for three years.
They wanted the truth?
They were about to choke on it.

The new member posted a yacht contract to the club group chat on her first day in. The caption read: Thanks for the birthday present, Dad 🥂
Ten seconds later she deleted it. Breezy apology. Oops, wrong group.
I looked at the photo one more time before it disappeared. I didn't check the numbers. I looked at the name painted across the bow.
It was my mother's name.
The boat was mine. My father had told me about it a week ago.
The chat didn't care. Which family is she from? Ninety-six feet of custom teak. Sienna, you dark horse.
I asked, quietly, if she'd share the registration number. I wanted to hear what she'd say.
My own husband stood up from two desks over and tore into me in front of every member in the room. Told me I was jealous. Told me I was an embarrassment. Told me to know my place.
Later that week, he broke into my safe. Took the diamond my father had given me for my mother — and put it around her neck.
That night my father's encrypted voice memo came in from somewhere at sea. One minute long. The last line was this:
"Find your mother's necklace. I can't wear her myself. I need you to wear her for me."

The boy I grew up with was this town's star quarterback.

Everyone saw him as the golden boy.

Yet, for a delinquent, he willingly threw away his athletic career and plunged headfirst into the local drug ring.

Desperate to pull him back from the edge, I tipped off the police about the drug den, hoping it would be his wake-up call.

Instead, he hated me to the bone for it.

To prove his loyalty to his "true love"—and to punish me—he gave our home security code to a crew of methed-up thugs.

They broke in and put a bullet through my parents' heads, wiping out my entire family.

It wasn't until I took a bullet to the chest and lay choking on my own blood, staring at a mocking text from him, that I finally woke up.

But fate, it turns out, decided to give me a second chance.

My ex-husband found me selling hair clips at a flea market. Rosie was asleep in her stroller.
"Come home. She's too young for this."
I said yes.
After that, I stopped checking his phone.
Rosie stopped crying when the other girl took her toys.
He spent the night at Simone's—we didn't call.
We ran into them at the mall—we walked the other way.
We finally became what he always wanted. Easy. Quiet. No drama.
So why is he the one who can't sleep now?
"Why don't you get mad anymore?"
"Rosie, why won't you ask me to stay?"

On Halloween night, a sharp stench of chlorine and cheap booze woke me up.
I opened my eyes to a man grinning at the bedroom door.
It was my husband, David, soaking wet and showing off the liquor he’d vanished hours ago to buy.
I cursed him out, called him a liar, and demanded a divorce. He just kept that idiotic smile.
Then my phone rang. It was his best friend, Mark.
"Claire, David drowned drunk in the pool!"

The fake heiress and I died twice fighting over the same thing—which of us would get adopted by that wealthy couple.

The first time, I got the necklace. I became their daughter. I thought I'd finally have everything I'd ever wanted. Three months later, they drowned me in the bathtub.

William's voice still echoes in my head. "This is your fault! If we'd taken Chloe instead, she'd still be alive!"

The second time, I gave Chloe the necklace. Let her have the good life. I thought that would keep me safe.

Five years later, Chloe turned up dead in their mansion. The Harringtons called the cops on me. They said I broke in and killed her out of jealousy. I died in prison, broken and tortured. The last thing I heard was Catherine's voice through the visiting room glass, cold as ice. "You belong in the gutter."

The third time, I open my eyes again.

I watch the couple smile at us, all warmth and kindness, and one question burns in my mind. Which daughter do they actually want?

Five years ago, my family burned to death in an "accident."

My loving husband Clifford signed the papers himself—shipped me off to a mental institution without a second thought.

Inside, Becky carved up my face with shattered glass. The same orphan I'd put through school. Then she rebuilt herself to match my features and stole my life—my husband, my son, everything.

Now she marched into the clinic where I scrub floors, dragging my biological child behind her, demanding I apologize to him like some servant.

She has no idea what kind of monster she created.

My cousin stole thirty thousand dollars from our dying grandmother.
Not for an emergency. Not for bills.
For liposuction.
Then she told everyone I did it. Said I was jealous of her figure — that I'd drained Grandma's cardiac surgery fund because I wanted to look different. And the terrible part is, everyone believed her. My boyfriend. My uncle and aunt. Every single person who'd watched me grow up in that house — eating their leftovers standing at the kitchen counter, wearing my aunt's old coat with the broken zipper through every winter — turned around and decided I was the thief.
I couldn't prove otherwise. I couldn't get anyone to listen.
Last time this happened, I didn't survive it.
Then I opened my eyes. I was back in the hospital corridor. My aunt's hand raised, ready to swing.

Five years ago, I stepped in front of a crossbow bolt for Lucian Vael, and he turned me into a vampire before I had the chance to say no.
He told me I was the first person he'd loved in six hundred years. He bought a castle and named it after me. He reserved a spot for me in his family's crypt so we'd lie there together when the time came—right beside his parents, in the inner ring where only blood and the most beloved go.
While I spent four years bleeding myself dry over ancient rites, trying to carry his child, he was across the city watching another woman do it on her first try. Using my research to get there.
He named one of the twins Soren. That was the name I'd chosen.
The night I found out, I was seven weeks pregnant.
I didn't tell him.
I called Mira and said: I need him to think I'm dead.

"You taste sweet." He chuckled darkly from between my legs.
This time, a full on scream left my mouth. It was too overwhelming. I groaned, burying my face into the pillow beside me. Chanting his name.
He became aggressive, grinding his tongue against my clit. I moaned as he started to work the tip of his tongue into me. It was driving me to madness. He used his mouth to pleasure me, seemingly without a care as to how much pleasure it actually brought me and something about that made me feel even more desperate, made my body crave it even more.

I let out a relieved groan,I lay still with heart racing and tried my best to catch my breath. His warm hands stroked my body again, trailing up my body. I shook from the pleasure of his fingers wrapping around my nipples.

They said I shouldn’t exist.Heaven calls me a sin. Hell calls me a weapon. I stopped caring what they thought a very long time ago.
Geminia, half light, half shadow, Half hell half Heaven if anything like that was ever possible but i was proof that the universe has a twisted sense of humor. My blood burns with Heaven’s fire and Hell’s fury, and some days, I can’t tell which side is louder. I was meant to keep balance between them… but balance went straight to hell the second he showed up.
The Angel of Death himself.When he looks at me, it’s like the world holds its breath. He shouldn’t want me, and I sure as hell shouldn’t want him… but tell that to my heartbeat every time he says my name. The power I’ve been controlling reshaped me into something else..something neither Heaven nor Hell could touch and it could and would never be undone.

To save my terminally ill wife and daughter, I drained half my wolf blood and tore out my own right fang.
Stripped of my source power, I became a worthless wolf despised by the entire clan.
My wife cast me out of the den, pinching her nose at the stench of rot on me; my daughter threw stones at me, cursing me with hatred as a blind, useless failure.
Together, they set their eyes on another young, strong Alpha. They let him trample my dignity in public, and finally had me brutally slaughtered on the frozen wasteland.
But they never knew, the reason that man could make their souls submit and fall for him was that his veins ran entirely with my heart's blood.
Only when I was reduced to a boneless husk of a wolf did my wife go mad, clawing her own gland raw, weeping and begging me to leave her one last mark.

"What the hell is this?! You were supposed to be dead five years ago, Olivia!" Hunter snarled, his rage sharper than any blade.
Olivia froze, her daughter’s tiny hand gripping hers. His words cut deeper than the accident that almost took her life. That night, the truth became undeniable—her husband had never loved her. He had only wished she stayed dead.
Once, Olivia Grace gave everything for Hunter Jackson. In return, she was humiliated at his birthday party, branded as nothing more than a maid, and abandoned when she needed him most. That night, she left him behind. Soon after, she discovered she was pregnant… only to face threats, captivity, and a car crash that left the world believing she was gone forever.
But Olivia didn’t die. She returned five years later, stronger than ever, with her daughter by her side—and with one goal: to reclaim her home, her dignity, and her life.
Now, the woman they thought was erased has come back for everything they stole. But in a world ruled by betrayal, blood, and power—who will truly have the last laugh?

When The Wrong One Loves You Right
Enemies make the best lovers...

Evelyn Rodriguez needs to find who murdered her sister. But her only suspect is sexy as hell and every kind of wrong. Suddenly Evelyn's not sure if it's determination that's got her pulse racing–or something altogether less appropriate. Worse of all, she has to live under the same roof with him.

Supernova Jason Lyndon, burnt by experience and casual flings is torn between taking the offer of the man he despises the most or the woman that annoys him the most. Either way, he wasn't about to go to jail for something he didn't do. He realized too late chosing Evelyn's offer was a terrible idea. She didn't only arouse all his sexual antennas but started pulling down the firm wall– he's spent years building– around his heart.

CRIME. SUSPENSE. ROMANCE.

She was claimed.

She was broken.

Now they both want her back but this time she makes the rules.

Carols life was never her own.

First an Alpha who called her his fated mate raised her under his iron fist molding her into the perfect survivor.

Then a stranger with hypnotic blue eyes took her body and vanished without a trace.

Years later both men return.

One demands her absolute submission.

The other awakens a hunger she cannot suppress.

But they are both lying.

Because Carol is not just a pawn fought over by two powerful men.

She is the missing crown in a deadly game between werewolves and vampires.

Her blood holds the secret that could rewrite the war between species.

And the closer she gets to the truth

The more dangerous her desire becomes.

Loving either of them could destroy her.

Choosing neither?

A massacre will follow.

Unless she finds a third path.

Not as their mate. Not as their prey.

But as the hunter.

"I promise I didn't do anything that day". He cups my face and stares deeply into my eyes.
"I want to believe you but I can't". I place my hands on his. I close my eyes and let the tears fall.

I feel a soft kiss on my cheeks trailing down to my neck. His hands move up my back as he claims my lips in his. My tears flow freely. He pushes me to the wall gently and claim my lips again. I let my hands do what they have been itching to do and run my fingers through his soft hair.


When Isabel Díaz finds out about her boyfriend and soon-to-be baby daddy's betrayal on Christmas Eve, she packs up and leaves.
Two years later, she is unexpectedly transferred back to America. She later discovers that this is Jaxon Slade's doing. Moving back there right before Christmas feels like déjà vu.
Will the health of their child bring them together and allow him to redeem himself or will it drift them further apart?

“Dad… please… help me…” I pleaded, my shattered ribs piercing my lungs, blood soaking the stretcher.
But Richard, the hospital's top surgeon and my biological father, didn't even glance at me. Instead, he rushed to the next bed.
“Don't be afraid, Chloe. I'm here,” he cooed to his stepdaughter, who merely had a tiny scratch on her arm. “Get the best equipment over here now!” he roared.
As the heart monitor flatlined and my soul left my broken body, I realized the chilling truth: in the choice between life and death, my father gladly let me die.

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!"

I don’t believe for a second that Roman’s so-called “protection” is really for my sake. He keeps warning me about danger and enemies, trying to scare me off, but I refuse to back down. The pull between us is undeniable—intense, electric. I’d rather walk into the fire than let him go. Still, jealousy twists inside me whenever I think about Regina. I can’t help but wonder if Roman truly cares for me, or if I’m just another casualty in his chaotic world. The harder he pushes me away, the more determined I am to stay. Even if I’m scared, I have to take the risk—to see if I really matter to him.


"I'm sorry, for everything." His voice was sincere and his intoxicating breath brushed against my face and I staggered back a step. "I know I hurt you, though, that certainly wasn't my intention but I'm trying to protect you."
"Protect me from what?" I hissed.
"Me." He said coldly. He glared back. Finally provoked.
Are you kidding me? This was his excuse? Really? I rolled my eyes and stood up, my jaw clenched tight. "Can you at least try to be original?"
"Nuru, I can't be with you, not only is it not safe for you because in my job I piss a lot of people off," he insisted, speaking slowly. He sounded annoyed."...a third of those people want me dead, half of those would do anything to get to me — even go as far as hurt the people I care about." He shook his head with a grimace.
I wondered if I shouldn't be scared that people would want to hurt me if I continued to be in Roman's presence; instead I felt uncomfortable, the thought of staying away from him would hurt me more. The idea of abandoning Roman for a lifetime without him was repulsive to me. It made me sick. There was a connection between us I was sure only came once in a lifetime. I wouldn't leave him for anything. So why should this be any different? And a smile curved my lips. He'd admitted he cared about me — not in so many words, but still I felt a surge of pleasure.
"You had no problem with being with that stupid girl, Regina," I mumbled, wondering how much of my anxiety he could read. How much of my jealousy.
His face turned cold, expressionless. "You can't seriously compare this, us... to what I shared with"

Humans aren't supposed to survive carrying a vampire's child. The immortal blood drains you dry.

Valentine was a pureblood vampire Duke. I was just a mortal. But I was stupid enough to think love was stronger than biology.

Four years ago, I tore myself apart on the birthing bed to bring a half-blood into this world, only to wake up staring at Valentine’s back.

His late father’s favorite concubine, Cecilia, had already snatched my baby from the cradle. And my husband acquiesced to it all.

"He looks just like me," Cecilia purred, tracing my newborn's cheek. "Thank you for giving birth to my son."

Then she tossed a blood jade onto my sheets, like I was some cheap baby-making machine.

I didn't take the payoff. I grabbed the heavy stone and hurled it straight at Valentine’s face.

For four agonizing years, I fought to get my baby back. I hired mercenaries, rogues, and shadow-smugglers, bleeding myself dry to breach the Duke’s estate. Every single attempt failed.

Until tonight. A terrified servant smuggled out a whisper that stopped my heart: Cecilia had fed my son "diluted holy water"—a twisted sacrament meant to literally burn the human half out of his organs.

I didn't hire anyone this time. I tore through the gates myself. I took a guard’s spear through the shoulder and let cursed brambles shred my arms to the bone, just to drag my dying boy out of a burning greenhouse.

But when the agonizing pain of the holy water woke him, Luke looked at me with pure, unadulterated disgust.

"It’s your fault! It’s your filthy human blood!" My four-year-old son spat the words like venom. "Mother Cecilia says if we just burn out this curse, I can be the true heir! If it weren't for you, Father would have claimed me by now! I hate you!"

I froze.

When I finally spoke, my voice was a raw, inhuman scrape. "Call me Mom one last time, and I'll walk out of your life forever."

For seven years, I told myself James wasn't cold; he simply loved quietly. Then my car died after midnight, and he told me to call a cab. When I earned the promotion I had chased for two years, he forgot my message. But when his ex said she felt sick, he left work with medicine in one hand and her exact coffee order in the other. That was when I understood: my husband knew how to care. He had simply never chosen to care for me. By our anniversary, I would stop waiting, leave his gift on the table, and move out. Only then would James begin to love me—and by then, it would be too late.