3106 Book(s) Related to my surprise mate chapter 27

"What's wrong?" I asked, pulling my silk robe tight.

Theron's voice remained controlled and cold. "You are not the biological daughter of the Reed family, and they've found their real daughter."

My face drained of color. I had planned to explain everything upon his return, but Victoria had beaten me to it.

"What do you intend to do about our marriage?" I forced myself to ask directly.

"Marriage for me is a procedure, regardless of who it's with." With that, he picked up his briefcase and left.

_

Six years ago, Leila's fake heiress identity was exposed. Theron ruthlessly divorced her, and she was framed for attempted murder. Only after the divorce did she discover she was carrying his child. Blacklisted and desperate, she survived in a basement until her real family found her—she was the lost princess of Chicago's powerful Randall Family.

She gave birth to precious twins, but was told her baby boy didn't survive, leaving only her beloved daughter. What she didn't know was that destiny had other plans.

Six years later, a business venture brought her back to San Francisco, where she faced her cold ex-husband—who had a five-year-old son. Even more twisted - he was now her patient, completely at her mercy. Gone was his former arrogance; now he pursued her with desperate intensity. Could she ever forgive the man who destroyed her, or would she make him pay for the hell he put her through?

"Looking for trouble?" His gaze locked onto me, lazy yet sharp.

"Take me home," I breathed, pulse racing.

"Know the risks?" His thumb traced my wrist, sending shivers.

"I want it."

His mouth claimed mine, biting. Fingers shoved under fabric, groping. Rip – fabric gave way.

"Dripping already?" He growled, fingers circling my core. "Eager little thing."

"...Stop—"

"Stop?" He thrust two fingers deep. "Or stop there?"

I cried out. He freed himself, hot steel grinding against bare skin.

_

After three years of cold neglect in her marriage to Idris—who still pined for his ex, Raven—Vera reached her limit. A call from Raven during their first intimate moment was the final straw. Divorce was her only escape.

Seeking solace with a friend, a reckless night led her to Atlas Blackwell, the powerful CEO now leading her company. To silence his family’s demands and forge a new path, they entered a one-year contract marriage.

Now, with the contract expiring, Vera stands at a crossroads. Idris begs for forgiveness, promising change. Yet Atlas, her husband in name only, has proven himself her true anchor.

Two men. One heart. Which future will she choose?

I was Louis’s girlfriend, the fragile burden he always left behind. For years, I waited in the shadows—my health neglected, my heart ignored—while he treated me like an accessory. But the night he abandoned me in a blizzard for someone else, I finally realized the truth: I wasn't his love; I was just his obligation.

Trapped in a freezing RV with a failing heart and no way out, I faced the end alone—until Graham Cox arrived. Louis’s cold, aloof older brother—a man who had always viewed me as an annoying pest—tore through the storm to save me. “If she dies,” he growled at Louis, “don’t bother coming home.”

He didn't just save my life; he pulled me from the wreckage of a toxic relationship. But now, the lines are blurring. Beneath his icy, disciplined military facade, a dangerous obsession has stirred. One night, he pinned me against a door, his eyes burning with a hunger he’d hidden for a decade. “Did you really think,” he rasped, “that I only ever wanted to be your brother?”

Now, Louis is begging for a second chance, but I’ve already moved on. I’ve walked into Graham’s cold, calculated trap, and there is no turning back. In a world of family secrets and forbidden desires, I have to choose: the boy who broke me, or the man who is quietly, obsessively claiming me.

Ivy Hayes has one dream: escape to the Solaris Sanctuary where sunlight keeps vampires away forever. But when she encounters her high school classmate Lucien Sinclair at the blood lodge, everything changes.

Lucien is now a dying vampire, poisoned by silver and suffering a dangerous metamorphosis. His brother Valerius—the ruthless head of the Blackwood family—kidnaps Ivy and drags her into the estate. Her scent is the only thing keeping Lucien sane. She's not a nurse. She's a living sedative—monitored, controlled, her body no longer her own.

Valerius underwent an ancient ritual that severed his empathy. To him, Ivy is just a resource to manage. He controls her movements, meals, medical care. Destroys her escape routes. Tightens the cage until she has nowhere to run.

While caring for Lucien, Ivy forms a fragile emotional bond with the gentle vampire. He remembers her. Respects her. Treats her like a friend. But Valerius's cold precision hides something far more dangerous—obsessive possession.

He funds her medications. Sends expensive gifts. Watches her through surveillance. And when she tries to flee, he uses absolute power to keep her captive.

Then Valerius's fiancée returns.

Seraphina—the vampire noblewoman Lucien once loved and was rejected by—comes to finalize her engagement to Valerius. Her arrival ignites a war between brothers, with Ivy trapped at the center.

One vampire she can trust. One vampire who will claim her by force. Can she reclaim her freedom? Or will this battle consume her?

At the Morello family’s Christmas dinner, I stood beside Vincent, waiting for him to announce our engagement.
Instead, in the very next second, he walked in holding a little boy and claimed him as his son.
And the woman he said he was going to marry? Scarlett Morello. The one he had always introduced as his “sister.”
The whole room erupted in applause. I stood there frozen, like a nail hammered into the floor.
Later, in his study, he took my hand and said, “Scarlett is dying. Late-stage breast cancer. She only has six months left. After she’s gone, I’ll marry you.”
But there was no guilt in his eyes. No love, either.
Then he told me to go to his villa that afternoon, to take care of the woman who was supposedly “dying.”
I opened the photo he sent me. Scarlett was lying in a hospital bed, pale-faced, an IV in the back of her hand.
A professional tennis player who had been playing in an exhibition match three weeks ago, and who had dropped three grand at Louis Vuitton on Fifth Avenue just five days ago.
But sure. She was “dying.”
At three in the morning, I was curled up by the front door of my apartment, crying so long I lost track of time.
Then my phone lit up. A text from an unknown number:
[Elena, I’m downstairs. When we were kids, you told me that once I controlled the docks on the East Coast, you’d marry me. The docks are mine now. Does that promise still stand?]
I pulled back the curtain and there he was. Ethan Vitale, my first love, leaning against the door of a black Cadillac, lifting a hand in a lazy wave.
Three years ago, when he left New York, he was only a Capo.
Now, he was the Don of the Vitale family.
He didn’t rush me. Didn’t pressure me to come downstairs.
He came for one reason only, to let me know he was back.
I wiped away my tears and texted back:
[It still stands.]
Because I wanted to see for myself just how long that woman could keep up her act.

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