3814 Book(s) Related to Love Until Last: My Professor

To the rest of the world, I was just a blue-collar "oil rig worker" battling the sun and storms at sea year-round.

But my true service record is locked deep in the Pentagon’s top-secret archives. Codename: "Ghost"—a specialist handling the military's deadliest black ops overseas.

The day my final mission ended, I pushed open my front door filled with anticipation, only to be greeted by a floor pooled with blood and smashed furniture.

An untouchable syndicate had beaten my wife black and blue and abducted my seven-year-old son, threatening to harvest him for the black-market organ trade.

Right now, safely holed up in a subterranean fortress, the arrogant syndicate boss is hiding behind multi-ton blast doors and dozens of hired guns, scoffing at the "cowardly" husband who only knew how to cry to the cops.

What they don't know is that, just a few minutes ago, I permanently shredded that disguise.

Let the hunt begin...

I was the most envied mafia wife in Chicago, until his Tibetan Mastiff tore apart what remained of our child.
Everyone called it an accident. I knew it wasn’t.
While I was bleeding out on the operating table, my husband was in the VIP ward, personally attending to his “traumatized” adopted sister. The whole family coddled her delicate state. Only I saw the smirk she couldn’t hide behind every calculated “panic attack.”
Then the Feds gave me a choice: keep playing the perfect, miserable wife, or vanish into a classified program so secret, I’d be dead to everyone I ever knew.
I signed. I uploaded the audio proof of their affair. I watched my old life disappear.
You swore you’d protect the family above all else, darling?
How fitting. My new mission is to protect this country from all threats.
Starting with you.

I thought the orchestrated assault was the most profound betrayal of my life. Then, from the shadows of the wine cellar, I heard my husband and his brothers toasting to their success.
"The slow-motion capture of her climax, paired with those broken whimpers... it was cinematic perfection."
"She played her part beautifully. After all, she’s just a Valenti."
I learned the devastating truth: my agony was their scripted entertainment. My husband. The director.
He married me to claim his inheritance.
He branded me to mark his property.
He caused my miscarriage in that dungeon, coldly calling it "tidying up loose ends."
But they overlooked one ancient law—the Moretti blood oath: should the Don betray his vows, everything becomes his wife's.
Now, I stand in the penthouse of his casino.
My fingers trace the scar on my shoulder—now transformed into a dagger.
"Darling, you celebrated the anniversary of your production. My gift to you is a lifetime behind bars."
Now, the final cut is mine.

In this apocalyptic world of extreme heat, I fight for water in the underground black market, and I risk my life to hoard supplies.
My internet-famous roommate enjoyed my efforts while hiding in the air-conditioned room, panting softly in front of three fill lights: "We need to slow down and reconcile with nature."
Later, she stole my supplies and sold them to drug lords, causing me to be roasted alive on the riverbed.
After being reborn, I turned and left.
"Don't you like a slow-paced life? Stay here and enjoy it."
The end times have only just begun.

My labor pains flaring violently the same day my husband’s widowed sister-in-law, Nancy, went into labor.
Nancy tricked everyone into believing I carried a girl while she bore the heir son.
Obsessed with securing the inheritance for Nancy’s fake male child, Rowdy locked me inside a hospital morgue cold storage, transferring all doctors, blood reserves and emergency gear to her VIP ward.
I knelt on icy ground, begging him to spare our baby and swore to renounce all family wealth, yet he kicked me aside and called me a greedy schemer.
His adopted sister Gina sneaked down, beat me brutally and injected a high-dose labor suppressant straight into my womb to stall my delivery.
It was only after Nancy delivered her baby that Rowdy belatedly remembered I was also stuck in labor downstairs.
Before he could head down to the basement, his panicked subordinate rushed in and cried, “Boss, Awful!—your wife and your son are died!”

The man I loved and the family I trusted became my worst nightmares. They destroyed my child and tortured me to death over a blood curse. Reborn once more, I hold all the painful memories. I will tear off their masks of kindness, seek justice, and flee far away to start a brand new life, free from all suffering and betrayal.

My husband thinks a "tragic surgical accident" left me completely blind. Now, he's moved his mistress right into our house to be my nurse. They openly whisper about my life insurance while preparing my afternoon tea. They think a blind wife is the perfect prey. But are they sure I'm in the dark?

After being reborn, my cousin and I swapped mates.
Last life, she married Kaelen Thornfield — the coldest Alpha in the West. Fifty years together and he never marked her. Not once. His childhood "friend," an Omega with a PhD in crying on command, made sure of that. My cousin faded into nothing. Unmarked. Unloved. Invisible.
Me? I married a man who couldn't stand the sound of my voice. Eleven months. Done.
This time, I took the western contract. Drove three days across the country in a beat-up truck, blew a radiator in the middle of nowhere, and rolled into his pack's territory covered in engine grease and smelling like a gas station.
His little Omega took one look at me and wrinkled her nose.
She has no idea what's coming.
I don't do tears. I don't do subtle. And when some girl sobbed at my mating ceremony about how jealous she was of me — I grabbed my Alpha by the collar and sank my teeth into his neck.
In front of the entire pack.
Without asking.

Everyone says I’m crazy.
My husband, Adrien, is Ashmont College’s most esteemed professor—suave, composed, and highly logical. I, on the other hand, am an investigative journalist whose nerves are fried by looming deadlines and too much caffeine. Yet, I insist there’s a woman who shares my exact face, who crawls out of our bedroom mirror every night and slips into my husband’s bed.
Our security cameras always "happen" to glitch at the crucial moments. My son avoids me like I’m a monster, and my neighbors claim they cheerfully greeted "me" in the driveway a few days ago—even though I don't even own a vintage pink dress.
Adrien has started dropping phrases like "psych evaluation" and "sole custody." If I let this drag on any longer, he’s going to personally commit me to a psych ward.
So tonight, I lied about flying to Chicago. Instead, I’m hiding in my own study—waiting for that identical face to crawl out of the mirror one more time.

I spent fifteen years taking beatings in the Bronx hellhole — beatings meant for my mother.
She's a Manhattan heiress now. Chanel suits, a daughter on her arm, and eyes full of disgust whenever they land on my hollowed-out frame.
"You're just like your disgusting father. A sewer rat. You've always reeked of something rotten."
What she doesn't know: on that rainy night fifteen years ago, I wrapped my arms around that man's legs and let him kick me half to death, so she could run.
What she also doesn't know: the tumor in my stomach has spread. I won't survive the winter.
I'd made my peace with dying alone, quietly, so I wouldn't disturb the perfect life she'd built. I swallowed the blood rising in my throat and started walking toward the dark.
Then came the dinner party, a few months later. Her daughter shoved me off a second-floor balcony.
I hit the ground at her feet like a broken doll. Dark red blood flooded across her white heels.
I watched the color drain from her face. With the last breath I had, I apologized.
"Don't be scared. This piece of garbage won't dirty your eyes anymore."

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 was his most obedient blood slave. When he needed strength, I offered my blood; when he was irritable, I endured his temper. Even when he held his new lover and prepared for their wedding, I stayed silent at his feet. He thought I was born to bow, never realizing the poison hidden deep in my veins—the poison meant to end him. And when he bit into my skin for the final time, what he drank wasn’t power but his own doom. As his bloodline collapsed before my eyes, he finally fell to his knees, trembling, begging me for mercy. I only looked at him and smiled. He never understood—I was never his plaything. I was merely waiting for the right moment to take my revenge.

The day college decisions came out, my parents bought my twin sister a Porsche.
It was my eighteenth birthday too. Nobody brought it up. I stood in the doorway in my diner uniform while the whole room sang her name.
That night the four of them went out to dinner to celebrate her. The car only sat four, so my father handed me a hundred dollars and told me to order myself something at home.
Four days later, six thousand four hundred dollars vanished from my account. Two years of washing dishes, gone to her sorority dues. My mother's name was on the account, so it wasn't even illegal.
I didn't scream and I didn't beg. I went upstairs and clicked Accept on the full ride to MIT that had been sitting in my inbox for three days.
Nobody in that house ever wanted me. So I booked a one-way ticket, cut myself out of the family photo, and left my key on the shoe rack.
I wasn't coming back. Not for graduation. Not for any of them.

Three months ago, I was kidnapped. When Alexander rescued me, I woke up in a hospital bed with my clothes disheveled and bruises covering my body. What happened during those hours? I don't remember any of it.

A week ago, I found out I was pregnant. He held me as I shook and told me that it wasn't my fault. That he failed to protect me. Even if the baby wasn't his, he'd raise it. He'd still give me the perfect wedding.

But the guilt ate me alive until depression took hold.

Every night, sleep stays out of reach. Nightmares find me the moment I close my eyes. I've tried to end it. Three times now. Each time, someone found me just in time.

After the third failed attempt, I make tea and head toward his study to apologize. Voices drift through the door before I reach it.

"Are you out of your mind? Evelyn's your fiancée!" His friend sounds disbelieving. "You actually hired someone to kidnap her? Made her think she was assaulted? Just so Lily could take her place? Do you know how messed up that is? What that does to someone?"

Alexander's voice comes out calm. "Lily got sick because of me. Her dying wish is to marry me once before she goes. If I didn't push Evelyn out of the picture, her father would never let Lily take her place."

All those nights. All those nightmares. All those times I scrubbed my hands raw until they bled. It was all a lie. A setup.

For another woman.

I pull out my phone and call my father.

"Dad. I'll agree to the arrangement."

I am the only daughter of the Lycan King, the future queen destined to rule all packs. Yet my wolf, Nyx, is abnormally weak—like a stunted pup that never grew.
My parents told me that Lycan blood runs too strong, that I need to find my fated mate. Only through the mate bond can the seal be fully broken.
Ten days ago, Nyx suddenly whimpered in my mind, guiding my gaze toward Silvercrown Academy.
To find him, I concealed my identity as the Lycan King's heir and enrolled here as an ordinary transfer student.
I came here expecting a fairytale. Instead, what waited for me was brutal humiliation.

A horrific car crash left me paralyzed.
The doctors said I'd never walk again. With no family left, my Aunt Martha and Uncle Thomas took me to their isolated farmhouse.
They cared for me, promising their treatments would help me walk again. After everything I'd been through, I thought I'd finally found safety.
Until today, when the feeling in my legs suddenly came back—but something told me not to tell them.

I was dragged to the stand of the MRI Memory Court by my own flesh and blood.

Their demand? To forcibly extract my kidney to keep their uremic adopted daughter alive.

A guilty verdict meant losing not just my bodily autonomy, but my freedom for the rest of my life.

Bathed in the global spotlight, my parents performed as tragic heroes, while their adopted saint cried a river of deceit.

They thought they had cornered the perfect victim, waiting for the world to send me to the slaughter.

But the moment the memory holograms ignited and reality bled through, the hunters instantly became the hunted.

I waited five years for a heart transplant.
My mother—the Luna of our Pack, the healer everyone worships—gave it to someone else.
An orphan girl she took in. A girl who now calls her "Mom."
Ivy got my heart. She got a wolf. She got a mate and a wedding so grand the whole Pack attended.
Me? I watched from the corner, still dying, while my mother smiled for the cameras and accepted praise for her "selfless sacrifice."
When I finally snapped at the ceremony, she slapped me. Told me to apologize. Said I was embarrassing the family.
I'm her actual daughter. I'm the one who can't shift, can't feel a mate bond, can't survive another six months.
But sure. I'm the problem.
They wanted me to stay quiet and die gracefully.
I chose to make sure everyone sees who their perfect Luna really is.

My foster brother Caelan swore he'd only ever marry me. Even though I'm the only human in a pack of wolves, for eighteen years he and his brother Ronan made me feel like I belonged.
Then Mira showed up—and suddenly she was his "fated mate."
I watched him bond with her while I choked on poisoned incense and collapsed. No one caught me. They were too busy wiping her tears.
Within a week, she had my room. My job. Eighteen years of memories—trashed.
They said I could never leave them.
They forgot about the vampire prince who's been waiting at the border for three months.
He never forgot me.

There's a heavy iron door at the end of the hall. Anyone who steps inside returns with eyes full of hatred. That’s all it took for the basement to turn my gentle fiancé into a predator and my loyal best friend into an enemy. Now, I'm trapped with a mother who claims the violence is all in my head. I have to open that door.

I accompanied my husband, Kieran, down to the Antarctic station’s underground quarantine zone to rescue an ice-bacteria sample at negative forty degrees. Halfway there, he asked me to fetch some data. I was gone for exactly three minutes. When I came back, he had vanished.
The institute staff told me I had gone insane, wandering the halls searching for a husband who had been dead for three years.
They called Kieran’s mentor, Dr. Reiner. Through the phone, the old man wept, swearing that Kieran had fallen into the deepest ice rift in Antarctica three years ago. Not even his bones were recovered.
Branded a lunatic, I was thrown into a sealed bio-containment pod twenty miles away. I became a human guinea pig. Under endless rounds of experimental drugs, my organs failed one by one until I died on that cold metal table.
Then, I blinked. Kieran was standing right in front of me, rushing me to the lab...

I was four months pregnant when the truck hit my car.
I woke up on a gurney outside the OR, bleeding, half-conscious, thinking my husband was saving my life. Then I heard him through the door.
"The baby's gone. Her right hand is finished—her career's over either way. Just take her kidney now and put it in Mia."
My mother agreed. My father told him to switch my architectural draft to Mia's name before Friday.
Mia. The sister they'd raised for twenty years while I was missing. The sister whose body was failing. The sister my husband had apparently been in love with the whole time I was married to him.
I was supposed to die on that table. I wasn't supposed to hear anything.
But my phone was in my coat pocket, and the voice memo app had never stopped recording.
And now I had a choice to make.

I loved Julian for ten years, carving every sweat-stained day into my love for him.
He once said I shined brighter than any gold medal.
Yet in five short minutes, he handed my dream, my glory, and my whole world to a scheming transfer girl.
Betrayed, discarded, and broken on the fencing strip, I lost my first love and everything I fought for.
Until the retired cold Olympic champion stepped out of the dark midnight shadows.
He offered me hellish training and a sharp blade of revenge.
I buried my soft heart, handed over my soul, and vowed to make every traitor pay.

For months, my stepsister Mia stole my taste, my nutrition, and my vitality with a mysterious system. While I wasted away to skin and bones, she glowed brighter, stole my career, and took my fiancé.
She thought she could feed on me forever.
But she forgot her fatal allergy. I turned every meal into her poison.
I starved her system, broke her perfect facade, and took back everything she stole. Now the parasite is dying… and I’m alive again.

On the day of my prenatal checkup, I found out my husband, Caleb, was sleeping with his student.
That night, I spiked his Pinot Noir with poison. I watched him collapse, convulse, and take his agonizing last breath. Then, I dragged his body into the basement and sealed it inside an oak wine barrel.
For five years, I raised our daughter, Nora, on my own. I thought the secret would rot in the dark forever.
Until she told me: Daddy speaks to her from under the floorboards every night. His voice sounds muffled, like he’s talking through a thick blanket...

I spent three hundred years winning Varen Ashworth's war. Bled for him. Handed him my army, my secrets, the healing blood from my own chest. He'd be nothing without me.
On his coronation day, he announced his queen—and it wasn't me. It was Elara. Some trembling, doe-eyed girl he'd pulled out of a Demon camp. He told me I could stay on as her handmaid.
I laughed, voided the contract, and walked out.
Because I've lived this life before. Last time, I exposed Elara. Saved his throne. He thanked me—then slaughtered my entire bloodline.
This time, I'm not saving anyone.
This time, I'll watch him figure out exactly what kind of woman he picked over me. And when his whole world comes apart—he'll be on his knees, begging the one person who could've stopped it.
I won't be listening.

I'm just a stay-at-home mom. Old T-shirt, secondhand car, nobody ever looks at me twice.
At the school fundraiser, my husband's mistress put a peanut in my seven-year-old's mouth. He's severely allergic. As he choked on the grass, she crushed my hand under her heel and kicked his EpiPen straight into the lake.
"One worthless little life," she said. "So what if it's gone."
She's wearing my clothes. My jewelry. Spending my money. She calls me trash in front of the whole school and threatens to have my legs broken.
She thinks she's untouchable, because she's the wife of a Wall Street golden boy.
What she doesn't know is that every dollar he has, every thread she's wearing, even the air she's breathing — all of it belongs to me.
I walked away from that world to raise my son in peace.
She just gave me a reason to come back.

Three years ago, my fiance Marco Ferrante walked out on our engagement for his mistress Vivienne Salas — and now they're both back, kicking in my door and screaming that my baby isn't his.
He's right. It's not his.
It belongs to the most dangerous man in Verrano.
And Marco just put his boot through the Devil's only heir.

Synopsis/Blurb:
After a devastating divorce with the man she had been married to for over three years, Rachel thought her life was over. Her family disowned her, they wanted nothing to do with her anymore and she couldn't blame them.

She had just divorced David Hart, one of the top successful bachelors in the country and heir to the Hart industries. But they would never understand that she didn't divorce him, he divorced her after she caught him cheating on her with her god-damned best friend!

Rachel was just about to end everything by jumping off a bridge when she was saved by the most unexpected person. The boy she once bullied severally in highschool because he always wore ugly glass and was from a poor background, how come that glass make him so hot now?

Why was he helping her get revenge on ex-husband who is trying to make her life even more miserable? And most important how did he get so handsome?

What exactly does he want from her?

...
"No, you must want something, anything. If you can really help me get revenge on David and Lana, I can't just let you do it for free."

Ethan went quiet for a while.

I held my breath waiting for what his request might be.

If it was something money could buy, I'll try my best to get it for him even though I was somehow broke right now.

"You're right I do want something." He said after thinking.

"What?" I asked slowly.

"Until you get your revenge on David, Lana and every other person you want, you will live here."

What! I screamed internally.

"What are you saying?"

Ethan moved his face closer to mine that our nose almost touched.

"I want you to be with me!"

After a devastating divorce with the man she had been married to for over three years, Rachel thought her life was over. Her family disowned her, they wanted nothing to do with her anymore and she couldn't blame them.

She had just divorced David Hart, one of the top successful bachelors in the country and heir to the Hart industries. But they would never understand that she didn't divorce him, he divorced her after she caught him cheating on her with her god-damned best friend!

Rachel was just about to end everything by jumping off a bridge when she was saved by the most unexpected person. The boy she once bullied severally in highschool because he always wore ugly glass and was from a poor background, how come that glass make him so hot now?

Why was he helping her get revenge on ex-husband who is trying to make her life even more miserable? And most important how did he get so handsome?

What exactly does he want from her?

...
No, you must want something, anything. If you can really help me get revenge on David and Lana, I can't just let you do it for free".

Ethan went quiet for a while.

I held my breath waiting for what his request might be.

If it was something money could buy, I'll try my best to get it for him even though I was somehow broke right now.

"You're right I do want something". He said after thinking for few minutes

"What?" I asked slowly.

" Until you get your revenge on David, Lana and every other person you want, you will live here".

Live here as in...? 

" Wha... What are you saying? ". I stammered hoping he wasn't saying what I thought he was saying. I tried to step back but I missed a step and almost fell on the bed but Ethan caught me holding me in his muscular arms. 

Ethan moved his face closer to mine be was so close, our nose almost touched.

" I want you to be with me! ".

On a rainy evening, Ophelia Taylor caught her husband Benjamin White cheating, shattering their marriage and her happy illusions completely. Plunged into despair, she found solace in Benjamin’s younger brother, William. Gentle and steady, William silently guarded her—bringing warm milk on sleepless nights, defending her from Benjamin’s coldness—slowly melting her broken heart. Unknowingly, both fell for each other, a forbidden affection blooming amid betrayal. Torn between her unfaithful husband and her off-limits brother-in-law, Ophelia stood at an emotional crossroads. Her reason screamed it was wrong, but her heart clung to William’s warmth. This tangled struggle of love and guilt had just begun.

I gave him everything.
My heart, my trust, my future. Four years of love, devotion, and blind loyalty. And what did I get in return? Betrayal. Humiliation. Loss.
Simon Smith chose my sister over me… and in that one selfish moment, he shattered my world. He left me broken, alone, and with a secret wound no one could see. My son… gone. My life… thrown into chaos.
But I refuse to let him have the final say. I refuse to be the woman who waits, who cries, who begs for scraps of a love that was never mine to begin with.
Now, it's my turn to reclaim everything. My strength. My freedom. My heart. And one man steady, loyal, and unwavering is about to remind me that love isn't just about giving it's about being valued, truly cherished, and never underestimated.
Some men think they can break a woman and keep her in pieces. Some men think they can betray her and expect her to return. Simon is about to find out the truth: some hearts heal… and some never belong to him again.


"I missed you, Anika."
"I have never seen you before in my life, sir."
"You think you can just leave me and replace me? You are mine!"
"Did your mother not teach you that grabbing random strangers is wrong?"
"Anika…"
"Stay away from me."

"You shattered my heart into a million pieces, and now you're asking me to pick them up? You crushed my trust, and now you want me to hand it back to you? I'm still finding pieces of myself in the ruins you left behind. How can I give you another chance when I'm still rebuilding myself from the last one? I'd rather drown in my tears than drown in your love." Amy snapped at Ryan.
Cheated upon by her fiancee with her step sister, heartbroken Amy Carter found herself in a club where she drank herself into a stupor, leading to a one night stand with an unknown stranger. Pregnant and chased out of the house with nowhere to go, her life went downhill. Amy left the country to avoid further humiliation, promising to do just anything to nurture the kid in her stomach.
However, she came back with her twin after six years. Finally, Billionaire Redford who had been in search of her, his one next stand from years ago, saw his chance to be with her and claim his children.
Will Amy agree to the rekindling and find happiness from the one night of mistake and settle for the stranger she had one night stand with?
Or do you think her ex boyfriend will win her over again after betraying her with her step sister?

The doctors gave me three days. And my husband Donald used that time to beg me to give my uterus to Hailey, the "sister" I'd rescued from the streets.
"Her need is greater," he said.
So I smiled and signed over the design empire I'd spent fifteen years building to the girl who once shivered in my doorway.
My daughter Flora curled in Hailey's lap. "I love Hailey Mommy best!"
I nodded. "Be good for Mommy Hailey."
My parents squeezed Hailey's hands. "Sometimes, she feels more like a daughter to us than you ever did."
Even Donald looked at me with soft eyes. "This is the Audrey I always hoped you could be."
Dying, I had finally become their perfect woman—quiet, generous, and uncomplaining.
With the clock ticking down, I stitched the final thread into a wedding gown. Let them have their perfect ending. They'll discover, when the last breath leaves my body, that some gifts are curses in disguise.
Was it a devoted wife's final sacrifice... or a dead woman's ultimate revenge? The answer will unravel in the silence after my heart stops.

My best friend could charm any man alive. I just didn't know how — not until it was too late.
Every boyfriend I ever had, she'd get close, turn on that pull of hers, and wait. They always fell. Then she'd send me the proof with the same sweet line: "Babe, you should be thanking me. I just saved you from another cheater."
Five boyfriends. Five "loyalty tests." Five relationships she destroyed and called it a favor.
I ran. Started over in a new pack. Found my fated mate — Callum Drake, the Alpha of Silver Ridge. For the first time in years, I felt safe.
On our mating ceremony day, she walked into my dressing room wearing an attendant's uniform.
She drugged my wine. Put on my robes. Crawled into my mate's bed.
I caught her. Threw her out. Thought it was over.
Months later, I was bleeding out in labor — and my mate stood over me, refusing to save me, because he'd been in love with her the whole time.
I died on that table.
When I opened my eyes, I was back. Same day. Same ceremony. Same best friend, same smile.
This time, I didn't scream.

My boyfriend Tyler, his childhood sweetheart Chelsea, and I went on a road trip through the Australian Outback in the Northern Territory.

A few scrawny, yellow-coated dogs lingered by the roadside. Chelsea insisted on getting out to feed them.

I warned her they were dingoes, vicious predators that ruled this desert.

Her eyes welled up and she called me heartless. Tyler jumped in too, saying I grew up with a silver spoon in my mouth, that I didn't get what it was like for regular people, that I couldn't even spare a couple of hot dogs.

She forced the door open and ran out. The pack lunged at her. Her screams tore through the air. Tyler cowered in the car, shaking.

I was the only one who got out to help her.

Chelsea scrambled back into the car, but Tyler slammed the door shut and locked it.

I never forgot his face pressed against the window, terrified and selfish. I never forgot the despair of feeling fangs rip through my throat.

After I died, the two of them flew back to the States and posted a sobbing video, claiming I was the one who'd insisted on getting out to take pictures and set the dogs off.

The online hate came for my family, all of it, all at once. My parents, both with weak hearts, collapsed under the stress. Neither one made it.

My whole family, destroyed because I couldn't stop caring for one second.

When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day the trip started.

I took the blame for my wife and went to jail, thinking I was protecting our family.

Five years later, when I was released from prison, my mansion was confiscated, my company fell into the hands of my younger brother, and the woman I loved with all my heart was nestled in my brother's arms, mocking my misfortune.

They had been having an affair for a long time, and even my imprisonment was a conspiracy meticulously planned by this despicable couple! What makes me even more furious is that my precious daughter was abandoned on the street like a stray dog, and subjected to beatings and bullying by their illegitimate son .

They thought that by draining my blood, they could forever condemn me to oblivion.

But they forgot that I was once an unparalleled genius in the business world.

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

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

“Every choice I make is for the good of our people, even if it means pushing you away. You deserve more than I can give.”
Noblewoman Arianna is trying to find her way after the recent conflict. When she meets Sevianne, a widow struggling to care for her child after losing her husband, Arianna promises to help her create a better future. But as Arianna reaches out to others, she finds herself facing her own emotional battles.
Her partner, Clair, returns from a journey burdened with secrets and the weight of leadership. The distance between them grows as he grapples with his responsibilities, leaving Arianna wondering if they can ever be close again.
In a world where noble families fight for power and the memories of fallen heroes linger, Arianna must navigate tricky politics and her own feelings. Will she find the strength to follow her heart, or will duty pull her apart from the love she craves?

After a painful loss and with overwhelming uncertainty knocking at her door, Lunna Rivera feels lost once again, accompanied by fear. She still feels like the little girl shaking in fear under the covers, wishing her heartbeat would calm down. However, she discovers something: true love. Will love to rise like a rainbow after the storm? She and Adam will face several difficulties that will test their love and feelings, putting their hearts to the test. Will this burn love stay alive? Will Adam finally fight for his first love? And will Luna learn to see beyond appearances to discover the truth?

However, for Lunna, trusting her heart means a path that should not be followed, something deceitful and cruel. She prefers not to think about it because it causes fear and reminds her of the child who cried under the sheets, wondering why her heart was bleeding again.

Luna must heal her broken heart, while Adam faces his own internal battles. Will it be possible to overcome past mistakes and find redemption? Will the love between Luna and Adam withstand all trials? They explore pain, overcoming, and the search for true connection. Confronting their weaknesses and traumas, both want to rekindle the flame of love that once brought them together. Secrets will be revealed, difficult choices will be made, the courage to forgive and start over will be fundamental.

Will destiny have a happy ending in store for Luna and Adam?

Sold to Be Loved by the Mafia Prince is a dark, emotionally charged New Adult romance set in a world where power is inherited, trust is a weapon, and love is the most dangerous game of all.

When seventeen-year-old Malia sacrifices her freedom to save her father, she is thrust into the violent world of the Italian Mafia—betrothed to Blaine DeCavalcante, the cold and untouchable Capo Bastone. Held at the luxurious yet haunting Crimson Garden estate, Malia must navigate a new life of control, secrets, and manipulation, all under the watchful eye of her fake fiancé’s double, Marcello.

But Marcello is more than just a stand-in. He’s her shadow, her tormentor, her unexpected comfort—and the one man she can’t figure out. As she battles fear, growing attraction, and the terrifying reality of her arranged future, Malia begins to uncover truths buried beneath Mafia loyalty, violent legacies, and the twisted lines between love and possession.

Told in alternating points of view, Sold to Be Loved by the Mafia Prince blends psychological tension, emotional vulnerability, and slow-burning obsession. It's a story about identity, power, and the impossible choice between surrendering to your fate—or rewriting it from the inside.

This is not a love story.
This is a war.
And the battlefield is her heart.

When the world fell to monsters, Avery was just a girl with nothing but a name.

Now she's hunted by ancient Titans—creatures from myth that should never have been real—and saved by three deadly brothers bound in blood, magic, and secrets. Damien is cold and cruel, convinced she’s hiding something. Ezra is her reluctant protector, willing to defy his own blood for her. And Rowan… wears a muzzle for a reason.

They say she’s marked. Chosen. That the Titans want her for what she is, or what she’s becoming.

She says she just wants to go home.

But love in the ruins is dangerous, and Avery is about to learn:
you don’t survive the end of the world without breaking—or being claimed.

In a world where magic demands perfection, Elara Voss has always been the forbidden flame, her wild, untamed power a dangerous secret that no coven rule can contain.

When she collides with Cael Draven, a devastatingly handsome human scholar whose very presence should shatter magic, everything changes. Instead of chaos, his touch awakens a breathtaking harmony: her power stabilizes into radiant beauty, glowing threads of fate binding them in ways no ancient law can explain.

As a dangerous coven hunt forces them into hiding, Elara and Cael discover they are far more than outcasts, they are the missing pieces of an ancient, passionate destiny. In moonlit glades and enchanted ruins, their slow-burning connection ignites into something fierce and undeniable: stolen kisses that spark starlight, protective embraces that make the world tremble, and nights where their bodies and magic entwine as one.

But the deeper their forbidden love grows, the more powerful forces rise against them. With jealous rivals, ancestral spirits, and a ruthless coven closing in, Elara must decide: cling to the world that rejected her, or surrender to the man who makes her feel truly whole and risk everything for a love written in the stars.

In a tale of fated mates, sensual magic, and heart-pounding adventure, one wild heart and one steady soul will rewrite the rules of their world... if their passion doesn’t consume it first.

(She's my niece. I know this is a line I should never cross.)

The first time we met was at her grandfather's funeral. She was trembling in black lace, and all I wanted was to pull her close and never let go.
The second time, she showed up at my door soaking wet, the night her fiancé shattered her. I peeled the wet clothes from her skin and told myself I was just being a good uncle.
I lied.
The third time, she whispered we shouldn't. I swallowed every word right off her tongue.
The fourth time, she stopped pretending she wanted to leave.
What she doesn't know is that every favor had a price. Every touch in the dark was a thread, pulling tighter. Every rescue, another lock on the cage I built just for her.
When she uncovers the truth between her fiancé and her stepsister, something clicks.
The obsession. The possession. The way he owns her and calls it love.

She's felt this before.
Because the man who swore to protect her plays the very same game — only he plays it in her bed, and he's far, far better at it.