3875 Book(s) Related to can i see who viewed my ig story

Wan ke was murdered in the age of 16 trying to save his 12 year old step sister. To take over the kingdom,power and to be the top general XingXing disguises herself as a boy taking her brother's name when he was in his dead bed, informing others that the daughter of the Great lord Wen has been killed.

She isn't someone who is fragile and weak she is someone who is courageous and a well known playboy.

What will she face in her journey?

Will she be able to hide her identity?

Can she protect her loved ones?

Who is behind all the chaos?

Join the journey of life with XingXing (Wan ke) who tries to take revenge for her dead brother investigating on the case while studying in the school of scholars and leader where only the Princes are allowed.

Have a taste of romance, action and suspense.

Danger lurks in the sea... with a storm of the heart and a storm of the sky.Christie has never been so happy. She adores living in Rivers End and every day her relationship with Martin grows stronger. But a last-minute job in Melbourne puts her back in the sights of the one person she vowed to keep away from. How can she know he wants everything she now has in her life?Back home again, she works on the renovations of the stationmaster's cottage and discovers a hidden room whose secrets might heal the old hurts of someone she loves... or reopen past wounds. When a sudden crime spree affects the town, Christie finds herself at odds with Martin over her safety. Instead of the proposal she hoped for, she's now unsure of their future and loses focus on the danger closing in on her.In a heart-stopping series of events, Christie comes face to face with her greatest fear... and one chance to save those she loves.Jasmine Sea follows on from The Stationmaster's Cottage, with heart-pounding suspense and heartwarming joy.

Warning: This novel have matured contents +18

"A different truth or dare is given, and that one has to be done, no matter what." Vicky said.

"Ok Deal," I said.

"Truth or Dare?" she asked.

"Truth," I said.

"What's your honest opinion of those pics you saw, of me?" She threw me a look of pure curiosity, which only made me laugh a little.

"I can say they were very hot," I said.

"Truth or Dare?"

"Truth," she answered, smiling at my comment.

"Is it just me, or are you not wearing panties?" I said, more to tease her about it, than I was curious.

"Yeah, I'm not," she said. "Actually, I'm surprised you noticed. Truth or Dare?"

"Dare," I said.

"I dare you to take off your shirt," she said.
.
.
So, thats how it started. I don't know why, but her mission is to find any means to have me for herself not minding what it will result to. Though she later had me and even got pregnant for me., but what happened after that is what you won't expect.

Today is the day I marry Lucian.

The woman in the mirror wore a gown of pristine white — but Joanna Ashford's eyes held nothing of a bride's joy. Her best friend Sia's whisper brushed her ear: Everything is ready. After the wedding, we'll meet at the tree-lined path behind the estate.

This was no wedding. It was a transaction between two wolf packs. And Joanna was the bargaining chip.


Joanna had once been loved by her fated mate, Sebastian Lockwood — a border patrol Beta with nothing to his name but his integrity and the warmth in his eyes. Then her father, Roger Ashford, Alpha of the Shadow Pack, gave her a choice that was no choice at all: stand in that courtroom and destroy the man she loved, or watch her mother die on an operating table without a signed consent form.

She lied. Every word out of her mouth was a blade she drove into Sebastian herself.

He severed their bond in front of the entire clan before the gavel fell. He didn't look at her once.

She didn't know, as she watched him be led away in silver cuffs, that she was already carrying his child.


Sebastian survived the exile grounds the way only the most furious do — by refusing to die. He emerged harder, colder, and burning with a single purpose. When he walked into the Northern Pack's challenge circle and took down the old Alpha in under three minutes, no one was surprised. When he announced his chosen Luna — Sophia Carter, who had nursed him back from the edge of death — the crowd cheered.

He had built himself a life with no room for the past.

And then a chef in a flour-dusted uniform looked up from across a banquet hall, and his wolf went absolutely feral.


Joanna had spent three years building something small and stubborn out of the rubble of everything she had destroyed. A kitchen job. A tiny apartment. A son named Theo, with deep brown hair that curled at the nape just like his father's, and gray-blue eyes that saw everything.

Theo's ears hadn't developed properly. The bills were staggering. Every restaurant in the Northern Territory had been warned not to hire her.

She kept going anyway. Because Theo needed her to.


Sebastian paid off her debts without being asked. He transferred her a restaurant. He found her in his office on a full-moon night with his silver cuffs already snapped, and she stayed — and in the dark afterward he said: Move into my apartment. She said: Let's pretend this never happened.

Her wolf Nana came back at last, in a forest surrounded by rogues Sophia had sent to kill her, red fur erupting through torn skin. Go find Sebastian, Nana whispered before going quiet again. Tell him about Theo. He'll love Theo.


Tomorrow is the Moon Festival. Tomorrow is the marking ceremony that will bind Sebastian to Sophia forever.

Joanna has one chance left — and one question she cannot answer.

When Sebastian learns the truth about the courtroom, about the child he never knew existed — will he look at Theo and see his son?

Or will he only see her betrayal?

The night they came for my sister, I cut my own palm and offered the Devil a better bride.

I did it in front of the whole city. I thought I was just a substitute, a disposable girl thrown into the fog to save the sister I loved. But when the Devil appeared—tall, dressed in black that drank the light, with eyes like pale, cold coins—everything changed.

He didn't kill me. He reached out and closed his freezing hand around my bleeding wrist. That was when he saw it. The old silver mark I had carried since birth, hidden under my skin. The moment his thumb pressed against it, the mark woke, blooming with blinding silver light. His stillness wasn't that of a monster choosing his next meal. It was the shock of a man who had just found the one thing he prayed never to see.

"You are not the one they chose," he said, his voice carrying into every frozen corner of the square. The cold rushed out of the air. He turned my hand toward the dying light, his face cracking open to reveal something far worse than cruelty.

"You were never meant to be mine," he whispered softly, his grip tightening like a vise. "And now I cannot give you back."

For six years I kept the books nobody wanted to touch.
They called me the help. My husband signed my name to a loan I never saw. His mother told the whole family I was the reason there were no grandchildren.
At the anniversary gala, they planned to retire me quietly — and hand my desk to the woman my husband had been paying out of company accounts.
They forgot one thing.
Before I married into this family, I spent six years catching men who move money the way they do. I never stopped keeping a second set of books.
I let them think the game was already over.
It was — for them.

I thought I was the happiest woman in the city.

My husband would gently help me into my shoes, rest his hand on my belly and whisper to our baby. My father would tie on an apron and cook dinner just for me.

Then a video from an unknown number shattered everything.

Inside a chapel, the four of them stood side by side.

My husband holding the hand of my father's mistress's daughter. My father arm in arm with the woman who once knelt before my mother begging for mercy.

And my wedding — the one the whole city had witnessed — had been nothing but a lie from the very beginning.

That evening.

He picked the bones from my fish, tucked a cushion behind my back, kissed my forehead — same as always.

I didn't confront him. I simply handed him a document to sign.

He thought I was still the naive little lamb he'd been deceiving all along. What he didn't realize was that he had just signed away his last card.

My husband Dante's best friend Luigi died three months ago, and with his last breath, he made Dante promise to take care of his pregnant widow, Maggie. From that moment, Maggie invaded our lives, and I was only four months pregnant at the time.

Then Maggie got caught in a gang shootout. She needed an emergency blood transfusion, and she had this rare blood type—Rhnull. Turns out, I'm Rhnull too.

To save Maggie and her baby, Dante forced me to abort mine.

My biggest regret? Trusting my husband with my mother's life.

The day the mudslide hit, I was on my knees. Begging him to send a helicopter.

He told me to wait. Twenty minutes. But when the helicopter came, it went for his adoptive sister Vivian instead.

I held my mother in the ruins. Her body was shutting down. I waited. Waited until she went cold in my arms.

When he finally showed up at the hospital, the first thing he said? Accused me of faking it. Said I just wanted attention.

In that moment, my heart died too.

Later, I found out Vivian wasn't even sick.

She said "I don't feel well"—that's all it took. And he left my mother and me to die.

Called me a lunatic. In front of everyone. All for her.

I was ready to leave. For good. Then someone shattered my mother's ashes.

I died on the second Sunday of May.
Mother’s Day.
My biological mother, the top neurologist in the United States, was standing in front of my corpse.
She looked at the bedsores all over my body, at the ribs that had been stomped broken, and explained coldly to hundreds of cameras:
“Trash from the bottom of society, covered in needle marks like this, doesn’t deserve to dirty my dissection table.”
She didn’t know that the “social garbage” she called a pill-seeking self-harmer was the son she had abandoned ten years ago.
When the cold scalpel cut open my chest, an old photograph stained with black blood slipped out.
The moment she saw it, the woman who had stood above everyone else—
went completely insane…

Selene thought she'd found true love with Alexander Morrison. She was WRONG—she was just a stand-in for Jessa, the woman he really wanted.

When Alexander and his twin brother Adrian's yacht exploded in the Gulf of Mexico, Alexander came home with Adrian's ashes, claiming to BE Adrian. His goal? To steal Adrian's wife Jessa—the woman he'd always loved.

Selene knew instantly he was lying, but when she told everyone, no one believed her. Alexander called her "crazy from trauma" and locked her away in a mental facility. She was PREGNANT.

They drugged her daily. After she gave birth, Alexander told her the baby died. She broke completely.

Three years later, dying in that white hell, Selene heard Alexander's final confession:

"I always loved Jessa. Adrian just got to her first. YOU? You were just her replacement."

"The kid's alive. I gave him to Jessa. He calls her Mom now."

Selene died full of rage—then woke up reborn, back to the moment Alexander walked in with that urn.

This time, she'd expose his lies and make him PAY.

For six years, I wore Pack silver. I sold my blood. I scrubbed silver out of Pack den floors. I slept on a basement floor — all to pay off my mate's Pack debt and buy my brother's wolfsbane antidote.
Today, with the receipt finally signed, my brother looked at me and said:
"Seren, I was never poisoned. Our parents aren't dead either. The Rogue raid six years ago — I arranged it. The only wolf hurt that night was you."
My mate stepped up behind him: "I never lost my Pack rank either. I've been at the estate the whole time."
Then my parents — the ones I'd buried seven years ago — walked through the door.
The Pack physician had given me forty-eight hours left to live.
They were going to remember every single one.

Thirty thousand feet in the air, inside the sealed cabin of a commercial airliner, my five-year-old daughter vanished into thin air while I took a thirty-minute nap.
I tore through the lavatories, the galleys, and every overhead bin. The only thing I found was her stuffed bunny, the one she never let out of her sight.
What was even more terrifying was the crew and the passengers. As if perfectly rehearsed, they all insisted I had boarded the plane alone. They even gaslit me in front of everyone, claiming I was mentally unstable and had hallucinated a daughter.
They took turns pushing me, trying to force me into self-doubt and submission. Not a single person offered to help me look. The entire plane was covering up a sinister crime.
If this plane was going to hide my child and protect the guilty, then I would tear this hypocritical aircraft apart with my bare hands.

My daughter was murdered on her eleventh birthday during a brutal snuff livestream on the dark web.

The chat was flooded with the sick revelry and obscene tips of twisted buyers.

"Break her legs a little more."
"I want to hear her cry out."

Lying in a pool of blood, my daughter cried out in sheer despair: "Mom... save me... it hurts so much..."

Watching my daughter take her last breath amid violent convulsions, I clawed at my own fingers until they were torn and bloody.

The police told me it was her elegant ballet instructor, Serena, who had sent her to hell. And the one who helped Serena cover her tracks was my husband, David.

In my utter despair, I swallowed an entire bottle of sleeping pills.

When I opened my eyes again, I had been thrown back to the very day I was supposed to take my daughter to her ballet class.

Sitting in the passenger seat, dressed in her ballet tutu, my daughter looked at me with eyes full of anticipation.

"Hurry up, Mom. Ms. Serena said we're rehearsing the solo for Swan Lake today."

The blood in my veins instantly ran cold.

All I wanted was a quiet place to live. I drained my savings and paid eighty thousand extra for the one unit on the row with a private backyard.
On my very first day, I found my neighbor's son beating my new hydrangeas with a stick while his mother stood there filming him and laughing.
Bianca says the yard belongs to everybody. Her husband is vice president of the HOA board, so around here, whatever he says is the law.
I showed them my deed. I called the police. I sent a certified letter. Every single time the answer came back the same. This is a civil matter, ma'am. Maybe try being a better neighbor.
Then her son put a rock through my living room window, and the HOA fined me two hundred and fifty dollars for putting a lock on my own gate.
Fine. They want that gate open? It stays open.
I just made one phone call. A truck is already on its way.

I was forced by my father to fulfill an arranged engagement I'd never met face-to-face.

Pushing open the private room door, I found my fiancé Tristan celebrating his secretary Clara's birthday.

"Security! Get this beggar out of here!" Clara screamed, pointing at me.

When I revealed my identity, Tristan sneered coldly: "What bullshit engagement? I would never marry a woman like you."

Clara poured red wine over my head: "Kneel down and lick it clean!"

When I fought back, Tristan exploded in rage: "How dare you touch my woman? Hold her down!"

Four bodyguards pinned me down as Clara started a live stream: "Let everyone see this delusional bitch who doesn't know her place!"

They tore at my clothes while Tristan watched coldly, even urging them on: "Hurry up, let everyone see her true face."

Just as I was about to be completely humiliated, the door suddenly burst open—

"Do you have any idea whose daughter you're humiliating?

My best friend Tiffany was obsessed with those novels where a mafia don spoils his woman rotten.

She was convinced she was the type of girl who could make a ruthless boss go soft, so she went after Vincent, the heir of a crime family, and got him.

His bodyguards, his dirty money, even the way he told her not to ask questions and just sit tight. She read all of it as devotion. And of course she had to drag me into it too, always with the same excuse: it was for my own good.

Last time around, her mess got me killed. Vincent's enemies mistook me for one of his people, and I died in a shootout that had nothing to do with me.

The second the blade opened my throat, all I could think about was her holding up a bloody knife, grinning, showing it off to me like a trophy.

"Margot, look. He gave me this. It means we're official now."

I remember feeling disgusted. I never thought that same knife would end up slitting my throat.

Blood pooled across the street while she hid in Vincent's arms, screaming, hands over her eyes. Later I heard her crying to someone, saying it wasn't her fault, that I just had bad luck.

I died inside her little romance fantasy. A nobody side character, wiped off the page without a second thought.

Then I opened my eyes, and I was back. Back to the afternoon it all started.

Five years in hell, my beloved and best friend joined hands to push me into the abyss. The savior I trusted was actually a deadly fraud. Reborn from despair, Vito came through the light. I tore apart the scumbag and the evil woman, settled all debts, broke free from the shadow, stepped into the light, and lived the rest of my life only for myself.

The day my all-powerful wife personally handed me over to the mob's basement, she was shielding my identical twin brother, furiously accusing me of destroying his ability to carry on the family line.
To compensate for my brother's "trauma," my parents stood by and did nothing. Using her influence, my wife pressured me to take his place at a black-market clinic, testing a lethal drug.
They thought I was just going to suffer some physical hardship, that after enduring these two weeks, everything would be happily resolved.
But they didn't know I had already been poisoned by my brother. I was dying.
I died in agony on the cold operating table. As my body was being gnawed and rotted by rats, they were happily vacationing by the sea.
Only when the lies were exposed did my wife kick down the hidden door. Holding my maggot-infested, decaying flesh, she wept until she vomited blood, then went mad and swallowed a bullet. My parents watched their family shattered and wept on their knees.

One of my employees went online and dragged me, claiming I'm making them sacrifice their health for a paycheck and forcing everyone to work over Thanksgiving.

Here's what actually happened. My company gives nine days off for Thanksgiving. Volunteer to work overtime, get triple pay, with a $500 daily meal stipend and a $5,000 bonus. No one gets penalized for not working.

The whole internet's tearing into me for making employees sell their lives for cash. So I give her exactly what she wants and send out a company-wide notice:

To protect employee mental health, the building gets locked and the power gets cut over Thanksgiving. No one is allowed to work for any reason. Anyone who does gets fired.

The minute that email goes out, the employees who were counting on overtime to pay their mortgages lose it. Now they're all crowded outside the building, begging me to open the doors.

My brother Soren is a figure skating prodigy. Every dollar in our house, every hour, every scrap of attention — all his.
Me? I'm the kid who doesn't need to be seen.
The night before Nationals, I told my mom my stomach hurt so bad I could barely stand. She said I was making trouble. Dad told me to take a painkiller and tough it out. Then they loaded up the car and drove two hundred miles to watch Soren skate.
They didn't come home until Sunday night. By then, I'd been dead for over a day.
I called her. Again and again. She had her phone on airplane mode.
Now I'm a ghost, drifting behind their car on the highway home. They're laughing, complaining I didn't even text Soren a congratulations.
I wonder what their faces will look like when they walk through that door.

My daughter died on her fifth birthday.
Her first real wish—the first one she was old enough to make herself—was to go to the beach with Daddy.
Gideon promised he would take her.
She waited for him all day. She was still asking for him when she took her last breath.
He never came.
I brought her ashes to the beach she'd always dreamed of. Let her finally see the ocean.
That's when I heard it—a woman's moan, low and breathy, coming from behind the rocks.
Then his voice. Then his name on her lips.
"Between me and Lily, who do you love more?"
"You. Obviously."
He was fucking his mistress on our daughter's dream beach—while I stood there holding her ashes.
When I finally confronted them, I didn't get an apology. I got a slap across the face.
And when his mistress caught my eye and smiled, I realized something.
She knew exactly when my daughter would die.

All Ember wants is to kill Lilith—the demon who’s evaded her for four thousand years.
Well, that… and maybe spend a little quality time with the three men who keep her satisfied in and out of the bedroom.

Ryan, Jake, and Carson aren’t just her lovers—they’re her team. Together, they hunt demons, protect humanity, and keep Ember from going off the rails.

But when they save a stranger from a demon attack, everything changes.

Zach is annoying. Immature. Human.
At least, that’s what Ember thinks… until she learns he’s a Seer.
A rare, powerful one.

And he might be the key to killing Lilith—once and for all.

Now Ember has to decide:
Can she trust the one man who doesn’t belong in her world?
Or will he destroy everything she's built—including her bond with the men she already loves?

Demon Seer is Book 1 in the Ember’s Flames trilogy—a steamy reverse harem paranormal romance featuring one demon-hunting heroine, four alpha lovers, and one very dangerous new obsession.

“You Killed my father and brought down his empire, cheated on me with my best friend and humiliated me, now watch as I do the same to you!”

The infamous Mafia Mistress.

After a long time of trying to discover the identity of the mafia mistress everyone in Palermo had gossiped about, Giovanni Moretti, the mafia Don was shocked to find his ex wife standing before him.

And she was spilling threats!

Now Giovanni needed not only to reclaim the new version of Maya he had found but also the hidden heir he discovered he had.

His return is fueled by a single desire: to reclaim Maya and his son, Dante, as his own.

Maya had found solace in the hands of Carlo, a rival Mafia boss who vowed to give her the revenge she so badly wanted. And soon it's not just about revenge but about a struggle to love and to be loved.

Caught between her duty to Carlo and the ghost of her past, Maya must now confront a love triangle that could either solidify her power or tear her world apart. As spies infiltrate, and enemies close in, Maya must decide whether to seek revenge or redemption. Will her burning desire to destroy Giovanni cost her everything she’s fought for, or will it be the key to finally setting herself free?

A hundred years ago, I was the strongest Delta the Silver Moon Pack had ever produced.

Born with the God Bone, unmatched in power, I had Royal Guard recruiters showing up at my door three times, waiting for me to say yes. The whole pack assumed I'd lead them to glory.

Then came that night. My own family dragged me to the altar in the frozen vault.

My mother cried and said, "Lacey was born broken. Without the God Bone, she'll die."

"You're the older sister. You're strong. You'll survive without it."

I refused.

Grant, my fiancé, pulled the knife on me. Brandon, my brother, pinned down my arms and legs. My parents watched from the shadows, saying nothing.

"Don't be so selfish."

They carved the God Bone out of my body, drained every drop of my heart's blood, and threw me into a vault fifty degrees below zero.

My sister took everything that was mine and became the golden girl everyone adored.

A hundred years passed. I became the Supreme Commander of the Royal Guard.

This year, during recruitment, my adjutant handed me the candidate list. I saw a familiar name and smiled. I picked up my pen and crossed it out.

"Doesn't meet the requirements. Denied."

"I fell in love with a stranger. I didn't know he was my brother."
When I first saw Victor, I didn't see a sibling. I saw a man who set my skin on fire. I saw a pair of dark eyes that reflected my own soul. Our attraction wasn't just a choice—it was a gravity I couldn't escape. For weeks, we existed in a fever dream of late nights and whispered promises, building a future on a foundation I never knew was forbidden.
Then the truth came out. One old photograph, a single name, and my world shattered.
Now, the touch that felt like heaven feels like a sin. But how do you stop your heart from beating for the one person you were never supposed to touch?

In my past life, I signed a marriage agreement, served as a live-in son-in-law for five years, and died in a hospital. Meanwhile, my "wife," Grace, was on the moon, embracing her lover and watching the star rings.
Given a second chance, she threw the agreement in my face at the marriage summit: "Sign it. After the wedding, I'll go find Karl. You'd better act like the legal wife."
I didn't refuse; I just tossed the agreement to my emotional nemesis .
The whole city laughed at my madness.
Until Grace flaunted her "pure-blood heir" at the 100-day celebration, I publicly projected her sterilization report—
the bastard in her arms was the product of her lover and a downtown prostitute.
And her lover was being mutilated in the downtown area.
In this life, I'm not a live-in son-in-law; I'm her gravedigger.

My name is Damian Lemaître.

In my past life, I was Serafina Camarilla's lapdog for ten years, being drained of my life, used, and squeezed dry of my last bit of value.

I opened my eyes and found myself back at the scene of the blood pact ceremony. She sat on the high seat, waiting for me to kneel down and swear the oath with the same excitement as in my previous life.

"Damian Flamel, are you willing?"

"No."

The day I signed the divorce papers, Ethan Frost lit up the night sky with thousands of drones spelling out, ‘Vivian Moore, I love you.’ The whole city celebrated his new romance.
On our daughter, Sophie’s birthday, he watched coldly as Vivian’s daughter snatched away her favorite Elsa princess cake—and didn’t even blink when I was shoved down the stairs. Bleeding and trembling, I looked up to see him tenderly massaging Vivian’s feet.
But what truly shattered me was the day Sophie struggled in the pool—Ethan held me back, eyes dark, roaring, “What do you want?”
Later, he scrambled to Sophie’s photo on his knees, crying “Where’s Sophie? Bring her out.” While I only felt absurd, I smiled through my tears “you will never see Sophie again—ever.”

I was cursed, trapped in a "Trial of Sincerity"—I could only regain my freedom if she spoke the words "I love you" from the bottom of her heart.
For five years, I’ve taken bullets for her, gone to prison for her, and stood on the brink of death four times. She would only call me "my best friend" or say "I need you," but she never uttered those three words.
Four times, she abandoned me as I lay dying, rushing instead to the side of another man.
The fifth time, with a bullet in my abdomen and my insides exposed, I lay on the operating table. She finally wept, screaming "I love you"—once, twice... twelve times in total.
Too bad. After waking up from that fourth brush with death, I had already signed a Do-Not-Resuscitate (DNR) order.
This time, my heart has stopped beating. Not because of my wounds, but because I’ve made my choice: I won't let her save me.

Three years of companionship, I secretly suppressed her violent S-class psionic power with my mortal body.
Yet on the day of her awakening, she cast me out like garbage.
The night I left, her genetic collapse began.
When the Zerg invaded and she knelt begging for mercy, I walked onto the battlefield alone—where my Nullification Field passed, the Zerg Overmind was reduced to a punching bag.
Star nobles dared to touch my sister?
I single-handedly breached their orbital fortress.
Now I've established the iron law of the universe, and all races bow before me.
And that woman who once drove me away is now kneeling in acid rain, her forehead bleeding from kowtowing.
Too bad—my hot pot is ready, and I have no time to open the door.

At the dinner party, Alexander had his arm around my waist, chatting and laughing with clients in German.
I was about to tell him the happy news that I was pregnant.
He was tender and affectionate in front of me, kissing my cheek from time to time.
But they didn't know my German was fluent enough to understand every dirty detail.
Like right now, I heard him bragging to the client about how wild things got last night with his stepsister Lillian.

On our wedding day, she vanished wearing the gown I had bought for her.
I didn’t chase her. Instead, I went back to the operating table.
For three years, I had paid off her debts and filled the holes she left behind—enough for her to live a second life. My heart couldn't take it anymore; I had a stent implanted, though she never knew.
Three days later, I died in the hospital corridor. My ECG flatlined.
She didn’t know. She was still at a cocktail party in another city, clinking glasses with someone else.
A month later, she came back, kneeling before my tombstone in tears.
But it was all too late.

To marry me, my fiancé Sebastian Knight said he wanted his childhood friend Isabella to be our surrogate.

I agreed. Because I couldn't have children, and the Knight family desperately needed an heir.

After Isabella "successfully" got pregnant, Sebastian became a completely different person. He started making her nutritious meals, accompanying her to prenatal appointments, even memorizing every food she disliked.

Yet he couldn't even remember my birthday.

Two weeks before our wedding, I received an anonymous email.

The video on the screen made me understand everything in an instant—Sebastian and Isabella were in bed together.

So this was his "surrogacy plan."

I, his fiancée, was just the last fool to find out.

I canceled all the wedding arrangements, tore up the wedding dress, and threw away the ring.

On our original wedding day, Isabella gave birth to his son in the delivery room, while I was already sitting in first class on a flight abroad.

Sebastian, this time I'M the one leaving YOU.

I’m a retired special forces soldier.

Three months ago, my little brother vanished—and every lead went dead.

I tracked the trail to a private rehab clinic on a tropical island. On the surface, it’s wellness and recovery. Underneath, it’s an organ market.

Following the clinic led me to one person—her. She specializes in luring “donors” through the front door.

To avenge my brother, I got close on purpose and let her become my girlfriend.

She thought I was easy money, a body delivered to her table, and she brought me into that clinic herself.

She didn’t know I’d been waiting for this moment for three months.

On the operating table, the needle hovered three centimeters from my skin.

She thought I was finished.

She didn’t know these hands have held a gun—and snapped more than a few necks.

Today I had my first kiss. It wasn’t planned. It was also with a complete stranger.
As I walked through the halls of my school, Higala Shifter Academy, I paused when a familiar sense washed over me. My boyfriend, Scott, was nearby, and he wasn’t alone.
“You are so naughty, Scott,” the she-wolf Sarah chuckled.
“Only for you, babe,” he replied, muffled as her lips closed around his.
At that moment, I felt sick to my stomach.
“Oh, Scott. Stop it. You know we can’t be seen together. What if your girlfriend finds us?”
“She’s in class. She’s never late. You don’t need to worry.”
My heart was heavy in my chest, but also a wave of fury and resentment crossed me.
“Lila?” Scott breathed, staring at me in shock “What are you—”
Before he could get the entire question out, I turned to the gentleman beside me, placing my hands on his shoulders and pulling him toward me.
He went easily, though his eyes showed nothing but confusion. I closed my eyes tightly so I wouldn’t have to see his expression any longer.
Then, our lips touched.
Later, I walked into my class but found,
It was him…
The man I kissed only moments ago in the hallway.
The man I had given my first kiss to, was my professor.

"Come back to me, Ivy," the man whom she used to love with all her heart said.“No, no,” Ivy shook her head and backed away from him. Her body trembled as fear consumed her whole being. He was the reason her baby was gone! He was the reason for all her suffering!

Ivy thought she was the luckiest woman in the world - she was married to the man of her dream.But that was just her illusion. On the day she received her pregnancy report, she found her husband in bed with his best friend. Before she had the chance to tell him about her pregnancy, she was forced to divorce and her family was driven to bankruptcy by that one man she loved.Since then, her life went south.
She married a governor in another country whom everyone thought was a gentleman. Everyone envied her, but no one knew he was a sadist who loved to abuse her.Five years later, the man she used to love met her by chance and begged her to come back.But would she be able to give her heart again, when all she felt toward him was fear and hatred? Knowing that he was the sole reason her life had turned to be what it was today with endless suffering?

UNDER HEAVY EDITING.
*****

He chuckled at her desperate attempt to make the lie believable. "Pretty little liar, your face betrays a lot, sadly" he placed his hand on her cheeks, his face dark "you can't run from me, Maya; no matter how hard you try to, I'll always find you. Even in the deepest part of hell, And when I find you, you get punished according to how long you were away from me, understand?"

His tone was so soft and gentle it could have fooled anybody but not her. She could see through him, and She trembled under his touch.

"Y-yes, maestro"


Though her sister commits the crime, Maya Alfredo is turned in by her parents to be punished by the Ruthless Don Damon Xavier for selling information about the Costa Nostra to the police.

Her world is overturned and shattered; she is taken to the Don's Manor, where she is owned by him and treated like his plaything, meanwhile knowing his intentions to destroy her.

But then things get dark in the Don's Manor, with the presence of Derinem Xavier. Maya doesn't stand a chance in Damon's furnace. Will he destroy her and everything she loves for the sins he thinks she committed? Or does luck have other plans for her?

Note— This is a dark romance. Not all lovey-dovey. ML is a psychopath. Trigger warnings!!!

Genre: Drama, Romance, suspense In Indonesia, right in the city known as Medan, a king named King Maeko rules over his people. He is known for his fearlessness and discipline. He is the respecter of no one. And his family members includes: Queen Amber his wife, Niran, his first prince, Arjun the second prince and Hana the last princess. This family is feared by everyone even down to the children of Medan. The king every year, goes to the poor cities in Indonesia to get slaves for his city. He doing this shows he has power, and is considered as the strongest of all kinds in Indonesia. This position is a yearly competition and for more almost four years he has been the owner of that position. Soon, the time to choose the strongest will come soon and he needs to do what he does best, which is bring slaves from the poor cities. Not only slaves, but also well built men, their cattles and many more. After checking the list of the cities he had raided, his next town is Java. Java is a poor city but known for its peaceful citizens and their cooperation in moving the town forward. Fortunately or Unfortunately, the king embarked on this journey and then did what he could do best. Brought in the most beautiful of their animals, men and then ladies where Akira happened to be. Some would be kept in the palace to serve as maids, some outside the palace. On the long run Akira finds herself in the palace. And then met with the king's family and then Arjun, the second prince saw how beautiful she was, and then this feeling started growing in our Prince Arjun.

'You have got to be shitting me! You are fucking kidding me! A girl, you paired me up with a girl?!" .

'Go home, little girl. This is not where you belong," he mocked me and my attention flew to the big board, ticking off the time. The fight had already started.

'What are you going to do? Cry and slap me?" With that last sentence, I caved into his latter wish. I slapped him.

'You hit like a girl!" He spat. His hand reached up to pat his cheek. His palm came in contact and he winced, his eyes becoming glassy and he gritted his teeth.

'What the fuck?" He whispered audibly and the crowd went wild the minute they saw red, raw fingertip marks were visible on his cheek.

'Thanks for the compliment," I taunted with pride referring to his taunts of me being a girl.

'Still think I'm not worth fighting against?" I mocked, pretending to file my nails and I heard him growl.

I saw him advanced by the ends of my visions and the second he lunged, I side stepped him and tut him at his dubious state, 'Too slow."

Cassandra Johnson is Pixie. Pixie is Cassandra Johnson. She's the same girl who's leading two extremely different lives.

Nobody would suspect the school's nerd as Pixie. 'Cause Pixie's a street fighter badass and the nerd does not have a single badass bone in her body.

The chances of people discovering this peculiar secret is close to none but of course this is where fate inserts the certified new boy into the equation and makes an exception for him.

In Indonesia, right in the city known as Medan, a king named King Maeko rules over his people. He is known for his fearlessness and discipline.

And his family members includes: Queen Amber his wife, Niran, his first prince, Arjun the second prince and Hana the last princess.

This family is feared by everyone even down to the children of Medan. The king every year, goes to the poor cities in Indonesia to get slaves for his city.

He doing this shows he has power, and is considered as the strongest of all kinds in Indonesia. This position is a yearly competition and for more almost four years he has been the owner of that position.

Soon, the time to choose the strongest will come soon and he needs to do what he does best, which is bring slaves from the poor cities.

After checking the list of the cities he had raided, his next town is Java.

Java is a poor city but known for its peaceful citizens and their cooperation in moving the town forward.

Fortunately or Unfortunately, the king embarked on this journey and then did what he could do best.

Brought in the most beautiful of their animals, men and then ladies where Akira happened to be.

Some would be kept in the palace to serve as maids, some outside the palace. On the long run Akira finds herself in the palace.

And then met with the king’s family and then Arjun, the second prince saw how beautiful she was, and then this feeling started growing in our Prince Arjun.

TBC….

Do you think it’s a good idea for him to grow this feelings for Akira?

Will she even accept to feel for him after what his father did to their town?

I thought I was broken. I never knew I was blooming.


My name is Lily, and I've been invisible my whole life.

Growing up in Silver Ridge pack meant surviving my father's drunken rages and protecting my little brother Silver from the monster our dad became after becoming addicted to Shadow Brew—a deadly alcohol made from blood bat flowers. When Mom couldn't take it anymore and chose pills over pain, I became Silver's only shield against a world that had forgotten how to be kind.

At fifteen, my wolf awakened early during a violent storm as I fled my father's latest beating. I found shelter in an abandoned Moon Temple, where I've returned for three years whenever the world became too much to bear. When Old Martha took us in after we had nowhere else to go, she helped me get a job at Green Thumb florist so I could finally contribute something to our small family.

Then came the delivery that changed everything.

When I brought blood bat flowers to Dark Moon Tavern, my wolf went wild with recognition. The performer behind the bar—the man they called Shadow King—was Blake Stone, Alpha of Silver Ridge. The same man whose poisonous creation had destroyed my family.

He was also my fated mate.

The moment our eyes met, I felt the sacred bond snap into place. But Blake already had a chosen mate—the beautiful, vicious Katelyn. When he realized what I was to him, he didn't claim me. Instead, he poured his signature drink over my head and let his mate slap me in front of his entire pack.

"As if I would ever betray you for someone like her," he told Katelyn, his rejection searing through my soul like silver.

Now my wolf is broken, dying from the mate bond Blake severed with his cruelty. I can't shift. I can barely breathe. In desperation, I returned to that abandoned temple to pray for healing.

That's when the Moon Goddess answered.

Glowing soul flowers bloomed from the temple stones—flowers that could heal impossible wounds and grant unimaginable power. Because sometimes the person who breaks you isn't your ending.

Sometimes they're just clearing the path to your true beginning.

Quiet, hardworking Lily Carter is too busy with school and her café job to think about love—until she crosses paths with Ethan Blake, the school’s feared bad boy.
Beneath Ethan’s rebellious exterior lies a painful past and fear of trust. Drawn to Lily (the only girl who doesn’t chase him), they form a fragile bond as he lets her see his vulnerable side.
But Ethan’s past and outside pressure lead to a devastating betrayal, breaking Lily’s heart. She walks away to rebuild her life, while Ethan, consumed with regret, must prove he’s changed to win her back....

Amelia Martinez was drugged by her stepmother and sent to sleep with a man.
The next day, Matthew Moore threw away the divorce agreement and scolded her, “Dirty and unfaithful!”
Amelia tore up the agreement and sneered, “Divorce? Unless I die!”
Later, Matthew actually knelt in the hospital corridor and begged for reconciliation, “Amelia, it was my fault!”

"I never thought my fiancé would take another woman to a pregnancy test."
Kian froze before claiming that Chelsea was "sick" with mate sickness and just needed time to recover.
"Six months, maybe less," he said. "You can go abroad for training. Alpha Stone's program in Zurich sent you an acceptance letter, why don't you take it? It'll look like a career move instead of a scandal. When you get back, we can pick up where we left off. No one gets hurt."
I stared at him in disbelief, then tore the letter apart right in front of him.
Calling off the wedding and declaring my independence was only the first step.
He thought I was just a good daughter of the Gravehide Pack, obediently following my parents' plans and waiting to marry him. The truth was, I was done playing their filthy little games and I intended to make my own mark on the city.
But then, in the wake of my own stand for independence, the rumours began to swirl amongst the packs. The heir of the Deepstalker Pack had arrived in Moonspire...and he wanted back what had left him in the middle of the night a few years ago without a word.