435 Book(s) Related to tully hart dad

Hayley Davis has everything she could ever want in life- money, a loving father and an established law career.
But there is one thing she wants that she knows she can never have- Jake Ryker, her father's best friend.

Since the first day she met him, she has wanted him and she knows he wants her too.
It is a filthy desire, one she has no business having but Hayley has never been one to take no for an answer and she will get Jake but at what cost?

NOTE: THIS BOOK IS SMUTTY, PROCEED WITH CAUTION

Rosemary Decker, a 27-year-old marketing executive fleeing corporate burnout in Seattle, inherits her great-aunt's mysterious bookshop in Thornwick Hollow just as her life crumbles. But the inheritance comes with a chilling countdown—twenty-eight days until a crimson eclipse that occurs once per generation. Holden Ashworth, a devastatingly compelling stranger with secrets older than the mountain town itself, seems to know intimate details about her family history that she's never heard before. As Rosemary discovers the horrifying truth about an ancient covenant that has claimed six generations of women from her bloodline, she realizes Holden isn't courting her—he's preparing her for a ritual that will grant him immortality while consuming her life essence. But some family legacies are worth fighting for, and in Thornwick Hollow, the hunted might just become the hunter when the crimson eclipse rises and old debts written in blood come due.

Holly Leefe has seen it all. Being a medium keeps life interesting. Not that it needed any help. She already had a psychic for a husband and a clairsentient teenage daughter. Data analyst by day, ghost hunter by night. Unless it was football season. She did live in Texas after all.
This fall Holly and her husband Jesse are trying to help a widower and his fiancé discover why suddenly stilettos are being thrown through their TV. Plus a few other nuisance cases. As if helping the dead and raising a teenager wasn’t enough, the ghost of her grandmother won’t rest until the family home is returned to its 1980’s glory.

I’ve seen the living; I’ve seen the dead. I’ve seen angels and I’ve seen demons. No matter how many malevolent or benevolent beings I interacted with, none could terrify me as much as the spirit that walked through the door into the kitchen where I was cooking dinner. Mentally bracing myself, I stirred in chili powder to the ground beef on the stove before I acknowledged the woman that was now looking over my shoulder.
“That’s too much seasoning. It’s going to be too spicy.” I turned to face the food police. “You need to call your mother.” It was an order, not a request. I raised an eyebrow, inviting her to explain. “She won’t listen to reason.”
“Are you two still feuding?” She had been fighting with my mother for the last two and a half years. I’d inherited the “gift” from my mother who had gotten it from my grandmother and so on and so forth. They didn’t need me to pass messages back and forth. She seemed to have forgotten that I had refused to get involved.

When your bf cheated and you spent a great night with a 🔥 stranger.
You woke up and realized you're late for the online seminar of the most popular pr0fess0r.
You dashed out of the bedroom, wearing the man's t shirt,
Then the whole class saw you through the profess0r's live stream...
You😱: pr0fess0r...did we???

Due to an arranged marriage between our families, I married Damien Blackwood, heir to a business empire.

During five years of marriage, I tried hard to play the perfect wife, bore him a daughter Lily, thinking I had finally won his love.

Until his first love Serena returned from abroad, I watched him rekindle his passion for another woman, watched them rekindle their old flame.

A car accident changed everything.

I was taken to court, sentenced to three years in prison, becoming a "murderer" despised by everyone.

And he personally sent me to prison.

I'm a figure skating prodigy from one of the wealthiest families in the country. I'm also an idiot.

I believed that if I was kind enough, people would be kind in return. So I sponsored Haley Dunning, a scholarship skater on our team, and treated her like my own little sister.

The day before the NCAA qualifier, she came up to me with a sports drink, said she wanted to help keep my energy up.

I drank it. Went down on the ice with a broken leg. Drug test came back positive for banned stimulants.

Overnight, I went from the queen of the rink to the face of a scandal no one could stop talking about.

Expelled from school. Torn apart on social media. Calloway Corporation's stock in freefall.

Haley stood in front of the cameras, tears in her eyes: "Piper just wanted to win so badly. I never thought she'd go this far..."

I fell into a depression. Couldn't sleep without medication.

Then one day, she showed up at my hospital room with my boyfriend, bearing "comfort": a cup of water and a few pills: "Piper, take your meds, okay? This is all my fault for being so stupid..."

Three minutes later, I'm coughing up blood, convulsing on the floor.

Right before I died, I caught the look on her face. That sweet, innocent face. A slow, vicious smile spreading across it.

She knocked over the pill bottle and started screaming: "I grabbed the wrong ones! I mixed up her antidepressants with some old person's heart meds! I'm so stupid!"

My boyfriend pulled her into his arms. Didn't even glance at me dying on the floor: "She meant well. Piper just had bad luck."

I was poisoned to death in that hospital room.

Then I opened my eyes, and it was the day before the qualifier.

"Starting price for my wife—one dollar!" James announced, pointing at the dog cage where I lay curled up like a dying animal.

The crowd at the wedding erupted in laughter. "Five dollars!" "Ten!" They threw bids like trash, mocking the woman who used to be Mrs. Windsor. Lillian, wearing my stolen necklace, poked me through the bars with a metal rod. "Look at you, Aurora. You're nothing but filth." I closed my eyes, accepting my fate. My husband had sold me. My dignity was gone.

Suddenly, a cold, authoritative voice cut through the noise.

"Two hundred million."

Silence fell over the hall. Every head turned. Walking through the doors was a man radiating power—Louis Smith, the newly found heir to the Smith empire. The man I had pushed away ten years ago. James turned pale. "Mr. Smith... this is a joke..."

Louis didn't even look at him. He walked straight to the cage, his eyes burning with a terrifying mix of rage and tenderness. He ripped the lock off with his bare hands and pulled me into his arms. James tried to block him. "She's my wife! You can't just take her!"

Louis smirked, his voice dripping with ice. "Your wife? I just bought her. She's mine now."

I’m a top assassin.

Three years ago, on a rainy night, I was being hunted when a stranger took a bullet for me. As he lay dying, he grabbed my hand and begged me to protect his son—and to keep living in his place.

To escape my pursuers and keep that promise, I changed my face, took his identity, and stayed by the boy’s side as his father.

His wife was arrogant, cruel, and constantly cheating. For the child—and to protect my cover—I endured all of it.

Until today.

She drugged me.

When I woke up, a doctor was holding a blade over my chest. They were about to take my heart.

Lying on that operating table, I finally learned the truth: her family had been trafficking organs all along.

That man died three years ago because he discovered it, and she arranged the crash that killed him.

She murdered the man who saved me. Now she wants to kill me too.

She still thinks I’m the same weak doctor who gets out of breath after a short run.

She doesn’t know I’m resistant to anesthesia.

And she definitely doesn’t know these hands have held scalpels—and snapped far too many necks.

Every heart holds a secret, but some are harder to reveal than others… England, 1812. Aster Simmons lives a quiet and orderly existence working as a secretary and indulging in her love for puzzles—until her routine is disrupted by the arrival of an impertinent Scotsman who lounges around her office like an overgrown dog. The heated glances he casts her way make her think very non-routine thoughts. Hamish Logan, captain in the Highland Wolves, has been given a mission to protect the man working on a coded list of traitors. If the Wolves are ever to have the same rights as ordinary men, he has to prove to those in power that a wolf can be civilised. The only problem is the fascinating secretary, who makes his wolf rise to the surface and makes him want to do very uncivilised things. When the traitors strike, Aster flees with a wolf in pursuit. But can she determine who is behind the plot against England before she forfeits her heart and her life?

Wolf versus cat... fur will fly...Lady Isabel Grayson is tired with London in general and boorish peers in particular. Known for her sharp tongue and strident nature, after one scandal too many she finds herself banished to the countryside. Her exile is made worse when her father announces he plans to marry her off to a mangy dog.Alick Ferguson is more comfortable in wolf's fur than a man's breeches. He is resigned to going through life alone, until he spots a spitting cat picking off dandies in a ballroom with a fencing foil.Alick's protective nature throws them together, and there is more to both than meets the eye. But can they peel away their armour to trust and find love, or will they doom each other instead?

One kiss at a time, he plans to steal her heart.Ianthe Wynn is weary of life as a courtesan and longs for quiet green pastures to raise horses. Her biggest problem is her distinct lack of cash and a chilling new patron. There's also the matter of the youth lounging in her parlour with his feet on the furniture and the promises in his gaze that she can never accept.Quinn Muir might be the only wolf unable to shift, but he knows his mate when he spies her. He just needs to break through the wall she has constructed around her heart. Winning a bet and moving into her house for a week should do it, one kiss at a time.But demons lurk in the shadows and they are reaching for Ianthe. Quinn must rescue her before her heart and life are lost forever...

“See? Mom warned you a long time ago—Rehn is a venomous snake to the bone.”
When a monster tore my right arm apart, and I watched my so-called best brother scoop up all the rations and run without looking back, my mother’s voice suddenly sounded inside my head.
But she’d died five years ago.
Mom told me my “good brother” hadn’t gone far at all.
He was hiding nearby, waiting for the monster to leave so he could come back and play the hero.
He would stash the ammunition, swap out my antibiotics, and in the end use me as the perfect meat shield—kicking me straight into a dead end.
To stay alive, I swallowed my blood-soaked humiliation and played along with him for a full one hundred and twenty minutes of brotherly devotion.
Until he finally tore off the mask and shoved me toward the most horrifying mutant.
I sneered and tossed away my self-defense knife.
Brother, you want to be a god of the wasteland?
Sorry. I’m going to be that god.

On college application day, my two childhood sweethearts, Blaise and Kieran, were completely bewitched by Mari. The manipulative girl talked them into abandoning their prestigious university spots to attend a small community college with her. I tried desperately to stop them, even contacting their parents to prevent them from ruining their futures.
Yet when Mari ended up dead months later, the blind boys blamed everything on me. They tricked me to the cliff and shoved me down brutally, making me pay for a crime I never committed.
Miraculously, I am reborn on this exact day. This time, I will not interfere. I will watch silently and let them bear the consequences of their own foolish choices.

I made 17 calls for help. My sister answered every one—and hung up.

For 48 hours, I lay dying in Pine Ridge Forest, texting desperate pleas to my family. They thought I ran away. The truth? My sister deleted every message while I begged for my life.

Three months dead. Zero funeral. My family didn't even notice I was gone.

Now the police have recovered my phone. Every deleted text. Every ignored call. Every lie my sister told to cover up what she did.

"Please. I can't feel my legs. I'm sorry I exist. Just don't let me die here."

They wanted me invisible. I gave them what they wanted.

Now they'll spend the rest of their lives wishing they'd answered when I called.

Two years ago, my best friend Maddie knelt in front of me, crying as she borrowed $50,000.
The very next day, she vanished off the face of the earth. No explanation, no apology, not even a single text message.
I was left carrying her toxic debt. I lost my fiancé, and I lost my ability to trust anyone.
Until one late night, a call came in from an unknown number originating in an abandoned mining district in West Virginia.
On the other end of the line, Maddie said she was getting married. She had the money ready—every last cent.
The wedding venue was a ruined church deep in the mountains, abandoned for a decade. The time: Friday, midnight.

"Stay in the apartment," he said, straightening his tie as I fixed his collar. "I'll be back tonight." Then he walked out the door — straight to his wedding. What he didn't know was that my flight was already booked.
For three years I was his canary: locked in a penthouse, the only woman he let close when he bled, forgotten the moment another woman entered the room. I watched him let her wipe the blood from his face. I lost our child alone on a cold floor. I apologized to the woman who destroyed my mother's watch.
I was done waiting.
When the bells of Saint Patrick's rang out across Manhattan, he was welcoming his bride — and I finally flew out of my cage.

This story is about 23-year-old Lily Hills, waking up to the dead body of her one-night stand in a motel. The same man, Damien Kalashnikov, was to tie the knot the next morning, and Lily was slated to handle the magazine publishing the glamorous wedding events.

Lily who just wanted an adventurous night for once in her life, was now accused of murdering a ruthless Russian Mafia boss.

Just as all hope seems lost, Dimitri, Damien's identical twin brother and infamous "Beekeeper," saves her, he proposes a shocking solution: a contract marriage, with conditions for both parties to meet. The wedding, initially intended for Damien and his bride, will proceed as planned – with Lily as the new bride.

As Lily and Dimitri navigate their complicated relationship, he commissions her to write his biography. With each passing day, secrets unfold, and shocking truths surface. Their bond deepens, but danger lurks. With a surprise pregnancy raising stakes, it seemed Damien left a souvenir. A Russian Roulette began.

Albeit, a typical Russian will say to you: Когда река молчит, шепчет ли она секреты рыбам? (When the river's voice is silent, does it whisper secrets to the fish?)

Even in silence, hidden truths may be shared, and secrets can be revealed in unexpected ways.

Will Lily, wife to the Omertà Mafia Don ‘The Beekeeper’ eventually find out what happened that night?

I loved Callum Crane for five years. He said I didn't fit. Then he proposed — to my sister.
The same night, his brother called me with the most insane idea I've ever heard: marry him instead. Same day. Same venue. Right across the hall from my ex and my sister's ceremony.
I said yes. Not because I loved Emrys Crane. Because I'd rather set the whole thing on fire than sit in a pew and watch.
Here's the thing about revenge marriages, though. They're supposed to be fake.
Nobody told Emrys.
The man had a wrench set in his truck that only fit my grandmother's machine — bought years before I ever spoke to him. He'd been sneaking looks through my workshop window so often the stone wore down. He fixed my motorcycle three times and never mentioned it. He remembered that I stared at a piece of almond brittle for ten seconds once, and bought it for me weeks later.
Seven years. He'd been in love with me for seven years. Said nothing. Did everything.
And Callum? The man who told me I didn't fit?
He showed up at my orchard with an apology and a folder full of evidence against my sister, begging for a second chance.
I looked him in the eye and said: "Too late. Wrong harvest."
He tried five more times. It only got worse for him.

I was hospitalized with a high fever, and my boyfriend stayed by my side 24/7.
The nurses all praised him as the "perfect boyfriend," and 5 million live stream viewers were green with envy.
He looked into the camera and poured his heart out: "She's my entire world. I could never leave her, not in this lifetime."
Tears streamed down my face as I felt like the luckiest woman alive.
Until 2 AM, when his phone buzzed with a message:
"Miss you 💋"
He thought I was fast asleep.
I wished I was just dreaming.

I stayed in this city for Dorian, pushed my way into his company, and saved every penny for three years just so we could build a home together.
But an anonymous flash drive shoved a video of him cheating in our bed right into my face. The next day, a promotion announcement handed the position I’d bled for to the very woman who seduced him.
With my dignity crushed to dust, I had only one person left to rely on—my gentle, almost obsessively devoted stepbrother, Ambrose.
He promised to make those scumbags tear each other apart. He promised Dorian would crawl back to my feet like a dog.
He offered me a "secret recipe" with immediate results.
I expected a deeply satisfying revenge. I never imagined what that so-called recipe actually was...

"You have two months to live." The doctor's death sentence was still ringing in my ears when I found the receipt in his pocket.

[Four Seasons Hotel. Romance Suite. Check-in: 3:00 PM.]

3:00 PM. The exact moment I was begging the doctor for painkillers, Alexander was in a hotel bed with another woman.

I looked at him, sleeping soundly beside me. I had loved this man for five years, sold everything to help him succeed. Now, in the final countdown of my life, he gave me the most fatal blow.

"I'm exhausted from meetings," he had lied, smelling of Santal 33 and another woman's sex.

I clenched the receipt until my nails dug into my flesh. I wouldn't tell him about the cancer.

I would use whatever time I had left to make him regret ever being born.

On our wedding day, Declan sent me out to Long Island. We'd been together seven years.

He said he'd left his grandmother's lucky cufflinks at the family house.

But when my car died in the storm, I opened my bridesmaid's Instagram live.

Declan was sliding my custom diamond ring onto Phoebe's finger—my adopted sister, the one with the bad heart.

My own parents were crying in the front row. My bridesmaids were cheering.

They'd turned my wedding into a dying wish ceremony for Phoebe.

Hours later, alone in the ER, I called forty-seven times.

No one picked up.

Not until after I lost the baby and disappeared from Manhattan.

That's when Declan finally came apart.

The day before spring break, Cole Bennett asks me, red in the face, if he can borrow my empty place up in the hills for one night.

I figure he's planning a birthday party for me, so I don't think twice about handing over the code to the estate.

I've already decided that night is when I'll tell him who I really am.

Eight o'clock on my birthday, I push open the brass doors of the estate, worth millions by themselves.

Music blasts through the great room. The place is packed with people from school, all of them craning their necks, gushing about how gorgeous the house is.

I hold back a grin, ready to go find him and see what he's got planned.

Then I see her in the middle of the crowd, everyone crowding around her, glasses raised.

Sloane Bishop.

“You can't fall in love with your boss.”

My best friend warned me before my first day at the firm.

I laughed.

“Don't worry. I'm already married.”

What I didn't tell her was that my husband was the man walking into the conference room that morning.

Elias Jefferson was the firm's newest partner—a brilliant, wealthy, intimidating attorney who could silence an entire room with a single glance.

And somehow, he was also the stranger I had married only days before.

Nobody at the firm knew.

Nobody could know.

I needed this job. I had spent years struggling to prove that I belonged in the legal world, and I refused to let anyone think I had gotten ahead because I was sleeping with the boss.

So at work, Elias and I became strangers.

He challenged my arguments in meetings. I fought back.

He praised my legal instincts in front of the entire team. I pretended his approval meant nothing.

And whenever our eyes met across the courtroom, I had to remind myself that he wasn't my husband here.

He was my boss.

But when the office lights went out and we went home together, keeping our distance became much harder.

Then one night, Elias told me, “Our marriage was supposed to be temporary. So why can't I imagine letting you go?”

During the SATs, someone in the exam room went completely mad, screaming about a freezing apocalypse and ghouls eating everyone in the world. Everyone laughed at him, but I was the only one frozen in shock.
Because the pendant on my chest, which could warn me of danger, was emitting an unprecedented, blazing alarm...

While I bled to death locked in a storage room, my fiancé Adrian was holding my sister's hand, comforting her.

He hung up on my final call for help, leaving only a voicemail: "If anything happens to Lena, the engagement is off."

My sister once said her birthday wish had always been for me to disappear.

That night, her wish came true early.

But my soul never left.

I watched everyone gather around her, singing happy birthday.

As she blew out the candles, I whispered in her ear:

"Enjoy it while it lasts. This will be your last birthday."

For five years, I had turned Preston Tanner from a broke kid who could barely afford tuition into one of Silicon Valley's hottest young founders.
I thought we would do exactly what we had promised back in that garage—take our AI healthcare startup public, ring the opening bell together, and get married.
Until today.
At the product launch that would determine whether we landed our Series A, Preston stood before the press and credited the core algorithm patent I had spent seventy-two sleepless hours developing to a girl who couldn't even write Python.
"Sloane, you're already my fiancée," he said. "Willow needs this patent to strengthen her green-card application."
Staring at his utterly self-righteous face, I felt sick.
I didn't know when it had happened, but somewhere along the way, he had rotted from the inside out.
And if he was rotten, it was time to throw him away.

My husband had been traveling a lot lately. Intuition told me he was cheating.
I kept quiet. For his birthday, I gifted him AirPods—secretly linked to my backup Apple ID.
At 10:00 p.m., his "Find My" location wasn't heading to the airport. It had stopped at a decade-abandoned lumber yard.
I floored it, obsessed with catching them in bed.
But when I arrived, I only found a corpse.

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?

Kaitlyn Randall wakes up late and the first thing she does is leave her place, almost throwing her cold coffee on a cop car nearby with a handsome officer inside.

To say the least, her day isn't going very well except for the eye candy. Especially when she shows up to work extremely late and has to clear out her desk.

When she finds out later that her estranged father left her millions of dollars, she decides to go to Europe and take a well-earned vacation after quickly buying a house.

Once she is there, she realizes that it was all an elaborate scheme

and now she is stuck in Europe by herself, without a single dollar to her name.

Will a tall, dark and handsome stranger come to her rescue?

Or more importantly, what will he want in exchange?

See what this rich stranger has in store for her in A Day To Remember.

The car crash six months ago destroyed my body. I survive the agony only through the painkillers prescribed by my brother, Fletcher.
While shopping for my wedding dress, I simply swallowed a pill on schedule. My mother responded with a slap that made me spit blood. My father stormed in and kicked my ribs in without asking a single question.
I fled crying to my brother, only for him to grab me in disgust: "You are a disgrace to this family."
I called my fiancé. He rushed to the scene, took one look at the pill, and called the cops without hesitation: "The engagement is off. She makes me sick."
In just a few hours, I went from a bride-to-be to a death row inmate.
But as the gavel fell, I saw our family maid calmly swallow the exact same pill from the gallery…
I lunged at the railing, screaming at the judge. He leaned down, a chilling smile spreading across his face: "Linnea, this is all because…"

For six years, I sold my body to underground clinics as a human lab rat to cure my son's heart failure and pay off my husband's debts.

Today, my biological brother kicked away the medicine I bought with half my life.

"Lucas was never sick. We faked the medical records to teach you a lesson for upsetting Virginia."

My husband coldly chimed in:

"I never went bankrupt either."

Even the son I bled to birth stabbed my arm, screaming, "A bloody monster like you doesn't deserve to be my mom!"

I finally realized my entire life was a meticulously crafted scam.

With my organs rapidly failing and only ten days left to live, I stepped onto the edge of the balcony.

"You're right," I smiled at my husband and brother, watching the color completely drain from their faces. "Six years of my life isn't enough to apologize to her."

"So I'll pay you with my corpse."

The second the avalanche came down, I called my mate. Karl. Captain of the Pack Guard's First Squad.

He dug me out, carried me onto the helicopter, and told the pilot to take off before the second rescue team even got there.

He didn't know Delilah was buried in the same slide. The girl he'd never gotten over.

By the time they reached her, she'd been under the snow for three hours in twenty below.

Karl stood in the morgue all night.

He came back the next day and just gave me a small smile. "It wasn't your fault. You were carrying our pup. Of course you came first."

For a month after that, he was gentler than he'd ever been. He cleared his schedule to take me to every checkup. Cooked for me himself. Put the crib together, the dresser too. Every single thing in the nursery lined up exactly right.

I thought that avalanche had finally buried Delilah. That it had given him back to me.

Until the day I went into labor.

He sent every doctor and nurse out of the delivery room. There was a silver scalpel in his hand.

The moment he cut me open, I saw the red in his eyes.

Our pup was still crying, small and weak, and he never even looked. He threw us both into the incinerator.

"If it weren't for you, Delilah would still be alive. Your life for hers."

Then I opened my eyes, and I was back at the moment the avalanche hit.

I’m just a blind woman whose sight was stolen by the mist.

And yet, for his ambition to become the Alpha King, I begged my brother Mason to venture deep into the forest and bring back the Moon Goddess’s Mark.

On Christmas, I carried that Mark in one hand and my pregnancy report in the other, my heart practically bursting with joy.

Then I caught my husband tangled up with Rory—the Omega who stayed by my side every day.

What shattered me most was this: my son’s death was never a surgical accident.

It was Andrew who wanted to give the heart of my son, Ethan, to Rory, who was sick with heart disease. He lied and told me those papers were for Ethan’s treatment, and tricked me into signing my name.

He mocked me, saying a blind woman couldn’t survive without him. But he didn’t understand what a mother’s resolve looks like.

I called my ex-fiancé, the strongest Alpha—Henry—the man I betrayed, the man who still waited for me. He became my only salvation. The Moon Goddess’s Mark I never go

[WARNING 18+]
This book contains descriptive intimate and violent scenes. There could be triggering content like self-harm, drug addiction, and depression.
[TROPES]
Billionaire. Revenge. Second Chance. Escape while pregnant.

When Mellow Fanning married Zeath Lupin, the cold chairman of Lupin Group, she thought their love was forever. But everything crumbled when he introduced his pregnant mistress at a family dinner.
Angry, Mellow sought to make Zeath restless by kidnapping the mistress. However, that resulted in a tragedy that nearly claimed her life and that of the child growing inside her—a child Zeath didn’t deserve.
She faked her death and ran away, bound to return as Zeath’s only means to remain as the chairman of Lupin Group.
Would he recognize her? Would she accept his apology if he ever gave one? And what would happen when the threat she once fled from rekindled, endangering her and her child’s lives once more?











“Do you know how much I wished you wouldn’t come near me, or even... touch me?” Zeath drones on. “All those cuddles and kisses, all the affection, made my skin crawl—like a troll embracing its victim before gobbling them. One can only imagine how much it stinks. You are no different from that troll. You merely caught my attention because you were a self-absorbed twonk, and we needed to test if you even had the heart to love another.”
“We?” I croak out.
Then Zeath’s fingers trail gently along my face, his eyes glinting with pure poison, and his voice is no better.
“Poor Mellow, it is all a dare, a gratifying one. Divorce or not, it’s your choice.”

Minutes before the birthday party of the famous Selene Ashcroft in Saint College, her blood dries up, and she collapses dead on the ground, leaving the students gasping in horror.

No one knows the cause of her strange death, so some of them started spreading rumors that the person she hated the most in college was behind it.

Who? The scholarship girl, Lyra Vale.

Innocent Lyra, who got mostly bullied by the late Selene, tried to clear up her name by investigating on her own because she knew no one would believe her since she is seen as a curse and blamed for the death of the school’s golden girl.

She took matters into her own hands and started suspecting the three top hockey players that the late Selene usually hung out with. One midnight on her way to find answers, she discovers something far more terrifying moving within the academy walls.

She bravely followed it and saw the creature transform into the most respected but young figure in the college, Professor Malik Duskbane.

She escaped not to get caught, but things got scarier when the next morning, another student died the same horrifying way as Selene.

The two victims are coincidentally Lyra bullies, and she knew she would be blamed again, but this time, Lyra could only point to one person.

How can she convince anyone that the beloved professor everyone admires is a monster killer hiding in the dark?

Lyra must uncover the darkness behind Saint College before she becomes it's next secret.

I’m the only person on Earth with a clinically proven antibody capable of neutralizing this rare deadly virus.
I caught the virus when I was six. Its mortality rate was staggeringly high, and everyone thought I’d never pull through. Against all odds, I recovered entirely on my own. By some strange twist of biology, my body made the world’s sole antibody that could fight this virus off.
Once I turned eighteen, I signed up to donate my serum as a volunteer.
For twenty years straight, rain or shine, I showed up to donate free of charge—107 separate donations in total. Each time, I pulled a gravely ill patient back from death’s brink.
I’m no saint living to save the whole world. Every last donation was done for my mother.
Back when I was six, my father’s infidelity drove my mother to take her own life. What happened was cruel beyond measure, completely unforgivable.
A fortune-teller once told me my mom’s lingering resentment ran far too deep. To free her trapped, wandering soul for good, a blood relative of hers had to finish exactly 108 acts of good deeds.
Twenty years in, only one deed remained. Just one more, and my mother’s spirit could finally rest in peace.
But when the hospital sent out an urgent emergency SOS this time around, I did something I’d never done in two decades.
I turned their request down flat.

Eight years ago, I was the heir to a powerful dynasty—the man set to inherit an empire.

On the way home from a business deal, our convoy was ambushed and I was taken. My fiancée arrived with the ransom, and the kidnappers gave her a choice: save one man. She saved my closest friend—and left me bleeding in the ruins.

They thought I was dead. They went on camera, announced my “tragic death,” took my company, split my legacy, and lived on my name for eight long years.

But I didn’t die. A gray-zone mercenary unit pulled me out of a pile of bodies. I changed my name and climbed from the bottom of their world—training, bleeding, killing, leading—until I became one of their commanders.

Today, my fiancée is marrying my best friend. The invitation arrived with my name on it. I board a first-class flight under a new identity and head straight for their wedding.

Halfway through the ceremony, the priest asks if anyone objects.

I stand up. “I object.”

I didn’t come back to give my blessing. I came back to collect.

Are you single? Or married?

I’m single ma’am

Why would a beautiful girl like you be single?

Well, I’d say it’s because I have to work hard to fend for myself so I could meet up with my bills. So I really wouldn’t have time for relationships.

Well, I want to offer you a contract.

What contract ma’am?

I want you to get married to my son and produce heirs for my family, he’s the only child I have and I wouldn’t want our name to be dragged to the mud because of his refusal to get married.

I’m a dying woman, I’m battling with cancer and I have just one year left for me and I wouldn’t want him to be unmarried while I leave this earth.

I’m ready to pay you five hundred thousand dollars monthly (500,000 USD) for staying with my son and a million dollars when you produce an heir.

What?

I thought the scariest thing in school was the jock who harassed me. But then he vanished without a trace, and everyone blamed me.

There is no strong evidence to lock me away, so I walk the school hallways trapped in a living hell. The police watch my every move, the town hates me, and my adoptive parents treat me like an unwanted curse in their home.

Desperate to clear my name, I didn't realize the real danger was living right next door.

Xavi Moreau is the quiet, haunting boy who looks right through me. He doesn't live with his family; he lives alone in his own place. To the world, he is a handsome party guy who drinks, smiles, and blends into the crowd.

But I noticed the truth. His smiles are fake. His laughter never reaches his cold eyes. He is just copying the emotions of others to hide a dark, hollow soul.

When he notices my stares, his obsession shifts entirely to me.

Every single time he approaches me, I push him away. I deny him. I fight his terrifying presence with every ounce of strength I have left. But Xavi doesn't back down. He offers me the one thing I desperately need: a promise to find the truth and clear my name.

I wanted to find a killer to save myself, but the killer has already found me, and he has no intention of letting me go.

He swore to kill his mate.
She was convinced she’d never have one.
For twenty-one years, Ximena Blackthorn has lived as the disgrace of her pack.
Born to an Alpha and Luna without a wolf, she's treated as lower than a servant—beaten, ignored, and reminded every day that she should never have been born. Without a wolf, she believes she is beyond the reach of the mate bond.
Then the impossible happens. The moment the Supreme Alpha touches her, the mate bond awakens.
There is only one problem.
Damon has spent centuries believing that a mate is nothing more than a weakness. He made a promise long before Ximena was born: if fate ever gave him a mate, he would kill her with his own hands.
So instead of claiming her...
He hunts her.
But the more Damon tries to destroy the bond, the more his own wolf rebels against him. And when ancient powers begin awakening inside Ximena—powers that should have remained buried forever—everyone begins hunting the woman the Supreme Alpha swore to kill.
Because Ximena isn't just the Supreme Alpha's mate.
She is the one person who was never meant to return. And when the power sleeping inside her finally awakens...
Damon may discover that fate has given him something far more dangerous than a mate. It has brought back an ancient curse. And some curses don't end with death…
They begin with it.

After the apocalypse, I built Dawnlight Base.

On an outside run, I died in an ambush—blast, fire, bullets. I watched my blood sink into the sand and thought it was over.

Then I opened my eyes five years later, living in a stranger’s body.

On a transport truck, I was locked in an iron cage with guns trained on us. The others told me who I was now: a bottom-tier gate guard, “cargo” being sold by Dawnlight to a mining camp.

They said after my death, my girlfriend took the command room, promoted her own people, broke up my old crew and stripped their weapons. Mismanagement followed. Mining rights were pawned off. Then they started selling the living.

I escaped and slipped back under the wall.

The quarantine corridor at the North Gate had collapsed and no one repaired it. A long line waited at the ration point, bowls filled with water-thin gruel.

And my girlfriend was signing papers—inviting an outside warlord into the city to “share governance.”

A week later, his convoy rolled through the gate. From the command building’s second-floor window, I flipped the signal switch.

The gate dropped behind them.

When gunfire erupted from every direction, they finally understood—

I was back.

"What is the ultimate favoritism your partner gives you?"
On the third day after the IVF procedure, I came across this trending question on a werewolf forum.
Just as I was about to scroll past, a highly upvoted answer pierced straight through my eyes.
"I'm newly pregnant with the Alpha's cub, so I can answer this question."
"The favoritism is this: even though I’m not his official mate, he lied to the one at home—claiming she’s infertile due to health issues—just so I could conceive."
"He said: 'A human body is like a broken vessel. Only a strong she-wolf like me deserves to carry his cubs.'"
In the photo, the ruby necklace that belonged exclusively to me was hanging around her neck.
Trembling, I finished reading every word.
So this was his idea of a beautiful future—sowing his seeds in his lieutenant's bed.
So the agony of egg retrieval I endured was, in his eyes, nothing but the useless struggle of a broken vessel.
I laughed until tears fell.
Back then, I defied my father and even cut ties with my family just to marry this stray wolf.
"Ella, sooner or later, you’ll come crying back, begging for our forgiveness."
Now, it turns out I really have failed.
I pulled the IV needle from the back of my hand and dialed the number I’d blocked five years ago.
"In three days, I will return to the Hunters' Legion."

The moment I gave up wasn't when I found out my husband was cheating. It was when I heard my ten-year-old daughter laugh into the phone and say, "Mom's so clueless. She has no idea about Dad and Summer."

Ten years ago, I was a top biomedical researcher, making six figures. I gave it all up for his promotion and our newborn daughter. Ten years later, the perfect marriage I traded my career and youth for turned out to be nothing but an elaborate lie.

He called me his safe haven, then got in our bed with his mistress and discussed how to keep me in the dark.

This time, I'm not going to cry or make a scene. I'm going to quietly gather my evidence and call the lab director I've turned down seven times.

I’m the only daughter of the Smith family.
To get back early and see my fiancé, I stayed up three nights to finish the cooperation negotiations with Johnson ahead of time.
However, I accidentally run into my fiancé kissing his wife—the one who was supposed to be “dead.”
And through the bedroom door, I heard my fiancé’s voice:
“Ava? She’s just a bargaining chip in this deal. Her family, the underground fighting arena, the port—sooner or later, they’ll all be ours.”

She thought she was human—until she drowned.

She wakes in the body of a missing selkie princess in a hidden island kingdom… and quickly realizes she’ll be executed if anyone discovers the truth.

The only person who knows? Her guard—cold, loyal, and furious she’s taken the place of the woman he was sworn to protect.

When her unstable shifting magic reveals something impossible—both selkie and tideborn blood—he’s forced to keep her secret… because exposing her would destabilize the crown.

Now, bound by duty and necessity, they must secretly search for the real princess—before her magic exposes them both.