4638 Book(s) Related to Two Alphas, One Mate!

“You are not a prisoner, but you are my wife. You are officially a Davenport for the next six months, so act like one!” He warned me.

“Fuck you.” I spat at him.

“If you want my dick, all you have to do is strip and bend over the table. I might consider you and fuck you.”
…………………..

THIS IS A SPICY AND DARK MAFIA ROMANCE BOOK. KILLIAN DAVENPORT IS UNHINGED!! R18.

185 days.
That’s how long Aspen Vale must survive as the wife of Killian Davenport. The ruthless mafia lord who bought her freedom, only to cage her in his world of power, secrets, and sin.
She was sold to him like property.
Her father signed her life away for money, and Killian accepted not out of love, but obsession.
She looks like the woman he once lost.
And now he refuses to let her go. In Killian’s mansion, there are rules, cruel and unyielding rules.
No lies. No defiance. No pregnancy.
He doesn’t want a wife. He wants a ghost to worship, a memory to control. But Aspen isn’t made to be broken. The more he tries to destroy her, the more she burns beneath his touch.
She tells herself she’ll endure him for 185 days—then escape. But monsters like Killian don’t set their prey free. And the most dangerous part of all?
She’s no longer sure she wants him to.

I woke up on the operating table—minutes away from having my kidney harvested for the girl who ruined my life. Last time, I died alone, infected, while my family celebrated her “recovery.” Not this time.

I refused the surgery, exposed their lies, and walked out. Now, they call me crazy, ungrateful, a disgrace. But I see them for what they are: parasites who drained my talent, my money, and nearly my life.

I’m done begging for love that was never mine. Instead, I’m selling my music, acing exams, and building my own future—without them. Let them coddle their precious adopted princess. I have a second chance, and I’m not wasting it on people who’d bury me for their convenience.

This time, I choose me. Watch me burn brighter than their golden girl ever could.

I buried my brothers.
Burned my name.
And disappeared from a world built on violence.
They once feared me as the Black Reaper — Klein, former mercenary commander.
Now I live quietly in a crumbling villa, renting out rooms just to stay afloat.
Then Carol moves in.
Brilliant. Beautiful.
Hunted by powerful cartels.
She assumes I’m nothing more than a bitter, sloppy landlord —
until armed men break into her room, and I kill them with my bare hands.
Now Carol knows my true power.
Instead of running, she forces her way deeper into my life,
making me her driver, her protector, and her unwilling shield against the hunters chasing her.
But the West family — the ones who murdered my entire team — have finally tracked her down.
To protect Carol, I must become the man I swore I’d never be again.
“They took everything from me once,” I say quietly.
“This time, I won’t leave anyone standing.”

Alpha Jericho rejected his mate before, but now he was ready to claim what has always belonged to him.


Alpha Jericho has been hiding in the shadows, biding his time, and now he was prepared to reclaim the woman who completely changed his life.

However, while he was away, a shifter he once trusted has taken control of his territory. He rules with fear and corruption, and Aria is standing by his side. To make matters worse, there's a hidden enemy waiting in the wings, but his mate refuses to heed his warnings.

"Don’t be shy, scream your defeat and cum for me." He whispered into my ears as he thrusted into me with his gun.

I had walked in to kill him, to drive my dagger through his heart. Instead, he bound me with handcuffs and fucked me with his gun till I was nothing but a complete mess.


Brienne Vonberg had walked into the Deandre's pleasure house to spill Allister Kane Deandre’s blood. But the moment she stepped into his world of slow music, sinful luxury, and violence, the hunter became the prey.

Allister was supposed to die under her dagger. Instead, he disarmed her with a smirk, bound her in cold steel, and dragged every shuddering sound from her body until she broke against him. Her body first, her pride second.

Now she’s trapped in a dangerous game. She’s betrothed to Marcello, heir to the Deandre Conglomerate. But it’s Allister, the darker and merciless brother, that owns her every breath, her ruin, and every sinful weakness she tries to hide.

Between a forbidden lust, twisted obsession, and a revenge plot now spiraling out of control, Brienne must decide which fate is worse. Kill the monster who destroyed her sister's life or let him destroy her completely?

!!!WARNING: THIS BOOK CONTAINS EXPLICIT CONTENT!!!

Rachel Reizz is nobody — overweight, overlooked, and perfectly fine with that. Until she takes a job she can't afford to turn down.
Until she finds out who she's working for. Chris De Luca. Formula 1's golden boy. The most worshipped name in school. And the boy who has made her life hell since day one. The rule is simple: do the job, take the money, don't get attached.

In a kingdom where dark traditions dictate the fate of young girls, Amelia finds herself among the twelve girls selected to compete for the heart of the Alpha King, a man who seeks a new wife every year. But amidst the competition and the luxury of the ball, Amelia learns more about the king, an alpha wolf who holds the power of the crown and the throne.
A marriage unites humans with wolves every year, and this happened between Amelia and King Aaron. As the romance between Amelia and Aaron blossoms, they discover that there is more at stake than just their own destinies. Amelia realizes that she is the only one who possesses the power to save the world from the darkness threatening to consume it.
Between elegant dances and vows of love, Amelia and Aaron embark on a journey of courage and sacrifice.
"You have one year to love me, Amelia."
"Or what?"
"Or we all die..."

Alexander Gray never suspects his investment consultant Vera is the hidden trillion-dollar heiress of Sterling Holdings. Fed up with restrictive elite life, she hides her identity to work an ordinary job. A sudden encounter with her boss sparks a thrilling secret romance—professional by day, irresistibly intimate by night.
When Alexander’s mother offers $50 million to drive her away, Vera shuts down her arrogance with a $100 million counteroffer. Her extraordinary talents soon surface, bringing huge profits and stunning the entire board. Once her true identity is revealed, the cold-hearted CEO falls madly in love, cherishing her genuine self over her wealth. A sizzling billionaire romance packed with shocking reversals and sweet true love!

In the previous life, the apocalypse arrived.
I risked my life to protect my wife as she fled, even giving her the access chip to the underground safe zone as a favor.
But when she was ambushed, she didn't hesitate to pull her superior officer to shield her from a grenade! Afterwards, in an attempt to cover up her crime, she turned around and tearfully accused me of using someone as a human shield.
I was dried into a dried corpse amidst the scorn of thousands, while she stepped on my blood and bones to become the adopted daughter of the highest-ranking military officer.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the eve of my journey into the city.
As I watched her generously give away her chip to the refugees again, and try to use moral blackmail to force me to hand over my last means of survival, I smiled slightly...
This time, without my backing, let's see how you maintain your mask of kindness.

Several days after being locked in the dungeon, my wife married my own identical twin brother.
Rose petals rained from the sky; the entire city celebrated the new marriage of the crime family's matriarch.
She thought I would weep in despair in the dark dungeon, admitting my mistakes to her.
Little did she know, I was currently being held in the arms of another, even more powerful figure whom she herself feared, watching this farce with cold eyes.
In my past life, I gave her my heart, only to be betrayed and abandoned in return.
Living a second time, I will not serve her anymore.
She thought she could tame me using my brother's injury as an excuse, not knowing I had already tricked her into signing our divorce agreement days ago.
When she finally checked the surveillance and learned the truth, kicking down the dungeon door in a frantic plea for my forgiveness, all that remained was a pool of my blood...

She loved him with all her three lives, only to be used and hurt repeatedly. When she returned to the wedding day for the fourth time, the phoenix refused to be trapped any longer. Betrayal ended, revenge arrived, and her destined dragon finally came to take her home.

I woke up back on the night Rhys’s Blood Tide Frenzy hit.
This time, I wouldn’t offer my blood to calm him. Instead, I sent an urgent Message Crystal to Seraphina—his precious white moonlight.
In my past life, I saw Rhys’s Blood Tide spiraled out of control, threatening to tear his body apart.
In my past life, when he commanded me to call Seraphina, I had let my pathetic, unrequited love blind me.
I offered my own body as the cure, desperately weaving the Origin Blood Seal with him.
Not long after, I fell pregnant with his half-blood child.
He had no choice but to plan our wedding. On the big day, Seraphina was ambushed by blood hunters.
She sent ninety-nine distress blood signals, yet he was tied up with wedding duties and never saw a single one.
After his beloved nearly died, he laid every ounce of blame on me.
When I went into labor, he locked me away in the Blood Dungeon. He drained every drop of my Origin Blood in a ritual meant to resurrect Seraphina, leaving me and our unborn baby to die in agony.
As my life slipped away, his words echoed in my ears: I’d ruined his one true love, and both me and the child deserved to perish.
When I opened my eyes again, I was right back to that night.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I froze.

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

My marriage to Matthew was a transaction, a substitute—everything except love. When his white moonlight came back, I was abandoned, diagnosed with gastric cancer, and carrying his child. His late regret could never bring back my life, nor could it keep our unborn baby.

I am Mandy Langley, 42 years old, CEO of Sterling International. In Manhattan's cutthroat business world, I'd earned the name "Ice Queen."
Five years divorced, my ex-husband's parting words still stung—he'd called me cold as stone, said I was nothing but a dictator even in bed.
He had no idea my frost was a facade, hiding an emptiness and a craving no one could touch.
I controlled billions in assets, yet I lay awake every night, consumed by a single thought: I wanted a man to make me let go, to force me to surrender completely.
That man walked into my office three years ago, and I'd been drowning ever since.
Allen Thorne, my chief assistant, 28 years old—too young, shamefully young, and yet I couldn't resist him.
A year ago, I discovered the truth: he was the CEO of Vortex Capital, my rival, planted here to destroy me.
I should've fired him on the spot. Instead, I kept him close, pretending it was to watch him, when really, I just couldn't let him go.
Dangerous, magnetic, ruthlessly in control—he was everything I shouldn't want. I never exposed him. I fell harder instead.
I buried this forbidden desire, but every day he was there, right in front of me, taunting me.
What was I supposed to do? Cut him loose—or let him claim me?

Sydney is reborn on National Decision Day after being betrayed and killed by her boyfriend Carter, her childhood friend Julian, and the scheming Harper.
Determined not to be their cash cow and victim again, she uses her family’s power to expose their crimes and fake innocent personas in front of Beverly Hills elites.
Ruined and desperate, the three traitors turn on each other and die on the same rooftop where they murdered her. Sydney finally breaks free and starts a brilliant new life at Harvard.

In my past life, the glorious "Son of the Sun" drained my divine blood until I died a broken shell.
Reborn, my twin sister eagerly steals my fiancé, shoving me toward the exiled, "crippled" King of the Shadow Crows.
As she flaunts her stolen glory, desperate to birth the sky's future ruler, I can only smile.
She doesn't know her golden prince is functionally sterile—and the "heir" she's destroying herself to conceive will be a nightmare.
And she certainly has no idea that my featherless, outcast husband is actually the ancient Abyssal Phoenix.
Let her drown in the hell she stole. This time, I’ll let the very abyss she cursed crown me as a True God.

The night I was reborn, my adoptive brother—Viktor Konstantin, the Don of the Chicago Outfit—was poisoned during a negotiation.

In my past life, I loved him desperately. So when the aphrodisiac took hold and he gasped for me to call Liliya, I made a selfish choice. I stayed. I gave myself to him.

She arrived too late. When she saw us together, she ran. Her plane crashed over the Atlantic that same night.

Viktor married me without a word of blame. Until a turf war when our enemies captured me—seven months pregnant, chained up, beaten bloody. I called him, begging for help through my tears.

His answer shattered me: "You want to live? After killing Liliya? You and that bastard don't deserve to breathe. Go to hell, Eve."

I died in that cell. Our daughter died with me.

Now I'm staring into those same drugged eyes again.

This time, I'm making the call.

"We can only take one more person! Any heavier and we ALL go down!"

In the middle of a raging forest fire, my fiancé Carter Hayes was piloting a fuel-leaking helicopter, forced to choose between me and my cousin Lily Sterling.

He chose me.

Lily was left behind in the inferno. She burned.

I thought surviving made me lucky — until my parents slapped me across the face at my wedding. "Why wasn't it YOU who died?"

Turns out, I was never the one they wanted to save.

Carter married me, then spent five years making me wish I'd died in that fire instead. He and my parents worked together, systematically stripping away my dignity, my career, and every reason I had to keep living.

Three years into my depression, I jumped from the top floor of the Hayes estate.

When I opened my eyes, I found myself back before the fire — before the helicopter took off, before Carter made his choice.

This time, I spoke first. "Take Lily."

If they all wanted me dead, then I'd give them exactly what they wanted.

My husband's first love, Celine, lured me to a remote cabin under the guise of an "apology."
 
She then poured gasoline all over the porch and locked the door from the outside.
 
In my past life, the moment the fire began to spread, I desperately called my husband, Julian—a fire captain—for rescue.
 
He smashed the door open and saved me.
 
Ironically, Celine's scheme backfired, and she died of smoke inhalation outside.
 
Yet, Julian pinned her blood debt entirely on me.
 
He kept me at the hospital with his hypocritical comfort, only to tear off his disguise the day I was discharged. He tied me to a pillar in an abandoned warehouse and poured gasoline at my feet.
 
As the flames ignited, my ten-week-old unborn child and I were swallowed by the raging fire.
 
Julian's eyes were bloodshot. Facing my agonizing screams, his gaze held nothing but pure, unadulterated hatred:
 
"If you hadn't gone mad with jealousy and locked the door from the inside, Celine would never have died! Stop playing the victim!"
 
"The pain she suffered before she died... I'm going to make you pay for it ten times, a hundred times over!"
 
In the blazing light, he watched coldly as I was burned alive, turning into a charred corpse.
 
When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the exact moment the fire started to spread.

The Apocalypse Descended. Zombies Slaughtered the City.

I was the first to awaken a top-tier ability — and I used it to flip half a street's worth of zombies like ragdolls.

I led a ragged band of survivors through the siege, carved a path out with blood and fire, and seized an abandoned military factory on the east side of the city. We turned it into a fortress.

I was the name that made everything within miles tremble — the Devil King, they called me.

The government base sent envoys three times to bring me into the fold. All three times, I threw their people and their vehicles right back out the gates.

A research lab came looking for cooperation. I torched their sample truck on the spot.

The rules inside this base? Mine. Anyone who didn't like it got tossed over the wall to feed the dead.

Every grain of rice, every pill, every night of safety — all of it was bought with blood. My blood. My people's blood. Clawed back from the jaws of a million rotting corpses.

Everyone respected me. Everyone feared me.

The only softness I ever allowed myself was for Xu Qinghe — the woman who'd crawled out of that mountain of corpses right beside me. My girlfriend. My one exception.


Then the lab dropped a bombshell: among the Awakened, one in ten thousand could evolve into an Ability King. The mark of this savior? A crimson blood-line on the inner forearm.

The whole world lost its mind.

Overnight, everyone stopped. No one manned the walls. No one scavenged for supplies. They just knelt there, day after day, praying for their Ability King to descend.

Then my girlfriend brought back a pretty-faced boy with a red line on his forearm.

The entire base fell to their knees before him like he was a living god.

And me — the man who'd bled for this base for three years, who'd held the line when no one else would — I was shoved out beyond the city gates.

Left for the dead.


A tide of a million zombies crashed against the walls. Their so-called god collapsed on the ground, sobbing and screaming for mercy.

Everyone inside waited to die.

That's when I looked down at my own forearm — at the crimson line I'd kept hidden all along.

And I smiled.

This time, it's my turn.

The day I secured the finale at New York Fashion Week, my adopted sister was in a car crash that left her completely blind.
And so began a ruthless campaign to destroy my life.
Listening to me prepare for the runway, she touched her heavy gauze bandages and wept bitterly. "You're so brilliant, Valora. Not like me... I'm just a useless, blind burden."
To placate her, our brother burned my core design sketches to ashes.
On the day of the show, my finale haute couture gown was maliciously slashed to ribbons. My reputation was left in ruins, and every single sponsor pulled their funding.
Later, she live-streamed her suicide attempt from a rooftop, sobbing that a disabled girl like her didn't deserve to be loved.
My husband dropped to one knee in front of the entire world and slipped the custom diamond ring—my ring—onto her finger.
That very night, I was dead-bolted inside my roaring, fire-engulfed studio.
With toxic smoke searing my lungs, I dialed my husband's number for help, only to be met with his frustrated, impatient voice:
"Serafina is blind! The fire alarms have her terrified! Stop being so damn petty and jealous right now!"
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of her accident. The day she faked her blindness.

I promised Ethan Caldwell, the boy I grew up with, I'd give up the top schools to attend some mediocre college with him.

On the final day of application submission, I brought homemade soup to his studio.

Outside the door, I heard him bragging to his friends: "Claire Bennett's like a damn puppy. I tell her to come to NYU with me, and boom, she changes her whole application to NYU. Lily's grades are shit. If Claire doesn't go for that full scholarship, Lily's got it in the bag. And Claire's so whipped, even when she finds out, she'll just suck it up like always."

The thermos in my hands feels cold now.

Six weeks after his girlfriend had twins, my husband got himself fixed. He billed it to my insurance.
Then he spent nine years driving me to fertility clinics. Two surgeries. Four rounds of shots. He held my hand every time and told me next time.
The whole town said it was my fault. His mother asked me every Sunday if there was any news.
I died at forty-four. Three days before the end I couldn't open my eyes, but I could hear them over my bed. The girl I bought a purple bicycle for called him Dad.
Then I opened my eyes and I was thirty-four again, on a gurney, waiting for them to open me up one more time.
Last time I lay back down and let them do it. I did it three more times after that.
This time he's paying me back for all nine years, one line at a time.
The nurse asked me to confirm my date of birth. I did. Then I told her I wasn't doing it.

My wife and my best friend had been sleeping together behind my back for a long time. Once the apocalypse hit, they completely dropped the act. While I was still stressing over how we would survive, they threw me straight into a zombie horde—just to buy themselves a few seconds to escape.
Given a second chance at life, I chose to report the impending zombie outbreak to the government, securing my place as a top-tier protected asset for the nation.
But what I didn't expect was... my wife and best friend were reborn too.

I'm an ancient vampire prince who's been playing human boyfriend to a demon hunter.
Big mistake.
She's completely unhinged—GPS tracking, 24/7 surveillance, the works.
When she threatens to dump me unless I surrender all my secrets, I do the unthinkable:
I actually say yes.
Too bad she doesn't know her "helpless" boyfriend has been the one keeping her alive all this time.

[WARNING: MATURE CONTENT] "Each time you break a rule; I'll claim a part of your body as mine"
Forced to marry the heir of the largest mafia syndicate to pay for her parent's debt and her grandmother's hospital bills. "Live with my son for 30 days, if you don't fall in love with him, I'll cancel this contract."
Can Malissa live with the handsome, hot and dominating Hayden for 30 days without falling for his charms? However, there are rules to living with this lusty monster and as Malissa breaks them, she learns of pleasures that she never knew existed.
As his touches set her on fire, her heart starts to melt. But does the two have a future together when Hayden is in love with someone else and Malissa cannot get over her ex-boyfriend? READ NOW to find out!
My other works: Love Slave to My Devil CEO Boss, Forbidden Heat, Substitute Wife for the Mafia King, The Alpha Prince's Purchased Maid, Lust Contracts, and Conquering the Emperor

Facebook Page: Realfantasies Author

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"You think this is love?" Victor growls, his grip tightening around my wrist. "This is survival. Don't mistake me for someone who cares."
Valerie Bridge had everything—until betrayal landed her in prison. Now she's forced to marry Victor Regal, a ruthless man who sees her as nothing but a pawn. His touch burns like ownership though he belongs to another.
When passion ignites between them, Valerie finds herself trapped between desire and deception. Her past haunts her, enemies circle, and the truth threatens to destroy what remains of her soul.
Will she fight for freedom—or will love be the thing that finally breaks her?

Betrayed and divorced by her husband, Lara Montgomery was chased out of her home on a cold night with a child in her womb.

Lara thought it was all over for her. That she had lost everything.

But she hadn't.

Not when the handsome billionaire—Damien Otto found her and refused to let her die on his curb.

To Lara, he was her savior. She has found reason to believe again, to hope again.
But has she?

What happens when she finds out that the man who rescued her on that cold night was just being paid to save her and might have his ulterior motives?

Lara would get everything back. Rebuild her life from the scratch but the journey to the top is not always an easy ride.

Stay tuned for a ride through betrayal, regrets and second chances.

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."

Six years ago, my world shattered when my boyfriend of three years, Elias, brutally discarded me for a strategic marriage, declaring that love doesn't build empires.
Now, I'm a fierce crisis manager, hired to rehab the public image of Jaxon Laurent—the NHL's most notorious bad boy and a walking PR nightmare. He's arrogant, reckless, and infuriatingly gorgeous.
But when a family tragedy leaves me fighting for custody of my traumatized eight-year-old niece, our professional boundaries blur. Jaxon needs a squeaky-clean image to save his career; I need a husband to save a little girl.
Our deal is simple: a fake marriage with strict rules. No real feelings, just a solid front for the cameras.
Until my toxic ex returns, as the opposing custody lawyer.
Before Elias can utter an arrogant word, Jaxon walks down the stairs shirtless, sliding a possessive hand around my waist. Staring his own brother down with a cold smirk, he murmurs, "You're staring at my wife too long, brother."
Suddenly, I realize two things: The arrogant ex who swore I'd never find anyone better is about to eat his words... and my fake husband wasn't saving his career. He's been waiting for me for six long years.
We swore this was just a game. So what happens when the biggest crisis I have to manage... is falling for the man who was never faking it?

Erica accidentally witnesses Max making love to Kora, her enemy. At the same time, while hiding under the bed, Erica heard the whole plan of the couple's destruction. For a minute out of control, Erica scuffled with the couple. To stop Erica's madness, Max hit Erica so hard that she lost consciousness. After seeing Erica lying motionless. The frightened couple carried Erica outside the emergency exit of the apartment building, to create a fake scene where Erica fell down the stairs.

Erica, after waking up, finds her way home. Unexpectedly, as soon as she entered the house, she was arrested by the police for assaulting and assaulting Kora. To avoid jail time, Kora and her mother forced Erica to sign a deed of ownership of the property, which Erica was allowed to inherit when her parents died.

When Erica discovered the whole plot of Kora and her mother, it was too late. Erica had to accept the request of Kora and her mother, to avoid being wrongfully imprisoned.

Losing everything, even being kicked out of the house. Erica resolves to take back what belongs to her and makes Kora and her mother pay the price.

Erica begins a new life, accidentally meeting and saving Ansel, the heir to a large corporation.

How will Erica's life change, when she becomes Ansel's benefactor?

I’d just gotten home from my prenatal checkup when I heard my sister-in-law Valentina’s voice.

"Brother, if Rosalyn finds out Leon is the stillborn child she gave birth to, will she fight me for custody?"

I froze on the spot.

Four years ago, my husband Lysander and I had a baby via IVF, but the infant passed away shortly after birth. I’d cried my heart out back then, and it was Lysander who held me close, comforting me over and over.

"Don’t grieve. We’ll have another child someday."

Four years later, I was finally expecting our second baby. Yet now I’d overheard that my first child had never died at all — he was Valentina’s son, Leon.

I simply couldn’t bring myself to believe it. Just as I reached for the door, Lysander’s voice rang out again.

"Don’t worry. Rosalyn will never find out I secretly swapped her egg for yours. Even the child she’s carrying now is our love child."

Olivia Steele flees her oppressive stepfather, seeking refuge in an arranged marriage with Seth Brown, a man she's never met. Drawn in by Seth's striking looks and practical lifestyle, Liv wonders if this union could bring solace to her family. But as doubts creep in and Seth reveals his lack of intention, their marriage hangs in the balance. Can Liv find true love in a relationship born out of duty, or is she destined for a life of unfulfilled promises?

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

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

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

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

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

When Carolina, an obsessed, lovesick lesbian, gets her heart broken by the lady she wants to spend the rest of her life with, she wants to take revenge on the man who stole the love of her life. Surprisingly, this “man* turns out to be her stepbrother whom she abhorred with her life. She begins a mission to stalk her stepbrother, get him obsessed with her, then dump him so she can get back with Angelina, her ex girlfriend. What starts as fake admiration and obsession eventually turns into something real and Carolina realizes that she may not be a lesbian after all. Maybe bisexual. But she was definitely into men. And one of them… is her stepbrother.

My little sister and I each bear a Heart-Seed Mark etched into our chests.
Inside each seed grow Heartbeat Petals—currency that can trade for anything under the boughs of The Heart-Root, the ancient devouring tree.
At eight years old, I plucked one petal to cure Mom’s terminal cancer.
At ten, I tore out another to mend my older brother’s shattered bones after his brutal fight.
At twenty-four, I sacrificed my third and final petal to wake my husband’s sister from a car-crash-induced vegetative state.
Now, two disasters struck at once: my father died in a horrific car wreck, and my husband’s mistress lost their unborn baby.
Both sides of my family flocked to The Heart-Root, all fixated on stealing my petals for their own wishes.
I tried to step aside and let my younger sister go first to make the trade, but Mom shoved me hard.
“Every bit of love we’ve poured into you these years, every petal came from us! You’d really hold out and refuse to save your own father? Ungrateful girl!” my mom snapped.
My husband’s mom cut in sharp as a knife: “A good wife knows her place. It’s your duty to bring that baby back for your husband. If only you’d given him a son yourself.”
They tied me tight to the tree trunk. I watched a girl standing nearby get torn apart by black, writhing vines when she had no petals left—her flesh dissolved straight into the tree’s roots to feed it.
But my Heart-Seed didn’t have a single petal left either...

For seventeen years, Chloe was the Whitmores’ hidden spare daughter. They harvested her marrow, liver and cornea, then plotted to take her heart for their beloved adopted daughter. Fleeing death through a storm, she is rescued by ruthless power broker Victoria Kane. A faint crescent scar unearths a secret: Chloe is Victoria’s long-lost birth daughter. Together, they will destroy the greedy family that fed on her

He was the gentlest male nurse in the hospital, and it took him three years to fall in love with a woman of exceptional talent.

She was the most dazzling female director of the cardiothoracic surgery department, and she was used to his humble flattery and took his efforts for granted.

Three years of companionship couldn't outweigh a single word: "Get lost."

When he finally left, heartbroken, she realized—

The "little nurse" she used to dislike had long since become the most important person in her life.

Some loves, once lost, are lost forever.

Some missed opportunities are regrets that can never be undone.

Eight times. That's how many boyfriends my best friend Sera has "tested" for me. Eight times she's proven they weren't good enough by stealing them away with her perfect smile and fake concern.
"I'm just looking out for you, Lia," she always says. "If he really loved you, he wouldn't be tempted by me."
But this time is different. This time, it's Ryan—my boss, my almost-something, the first man who's ever made me believe I might be worth loving. When Sera comes back to town asking about my love life, I panic and lie. There's no one, I tell her. Nothing happening at all.
Big mistake.
Now she's got her sights set on him, and I'm watching her work her magic all over again. The late-night texts, the red lace lingerie, the hotel room invitation. I should just accept it like I always do. Let her prove once again that I'm not worth fighting for.
But I'm done being the girl who hands over everything she wants. This time, I'm fighting back.

Since when is eating a snack before dinner a capital crime? All because of a bag of gummies, my parents beat the hell out of me, and a judge coldly sentenced me to death. I was absolutely convinced the candy was laced! It wasn't until moments before my execution that I accidentally found out the truth: my family... were never actually my family to begin with.

I was once known as "The Divine Hand," the youngest Chief of Cardiothoracic Surgery in history.

I didn't just perform surgeries, I invented them. However, after a high-profile operation on my own mentor went tragically wrong, leaving him in a vegetative state, my mother made me swear a blood oath.

“Your hands bring both life and ruin. Never touch a scalpel again, or the guilt will consume you forever.”

I traded my surgical scrubs for a floral apron. I married Lucian, a famous business tycoon my mother had selected.

For five years, I spent my days in the kitchen, meticulously preparing meals that were precisely calibrated medicinal formulas that cured his heart murmur and made him the top-performing executive in the city.

However, on our fifth anniversary, Lucian didn't bring flowers or gifts. Instead, he threw the divorce papers on my face with Leslie, the glamorous "Star Surgeon" of the year, by his side, her hands wrapped around his arms like she owned him.

Lucian sneered, "Lesley operates on kings and CEOs. You? You can't even look at a drop of blood without fainting. You’re a liability to my social standing."

“Sign the papers and I'll give you two hundred dollars every month as your monthly allowance. Considering your lifestyle, that's more than you ever need.” He mocked.

I stared at the divorce papers in my hands. This was what he was paying me for being a submissive wife.

"I’ll sign," I said, "and I’ll let you keep the house and the stocks. But only if Lesley can correctly identify the three hidden toxins I’ve neutralized in your body over the last five years using only the meals you mocked me for cooking.”

“If she’s the 'genius' you claim, surely she can diagnose the man she's sleeping with.”

Becky and I had been best friends since elementary school—inseparable until we both got into this top university and became roommates.
We used to lie in our dorm beds, staring at the ceiling, and swear an oath: when we got married, the gap between our weddings would never exceed one week.
I waited for Steven for four full years.
From freshman year to senior spring, I ghostwrote his papers, nursed his drunk stomach, and endured the rotating cast of girls who always seemed to need him.
Until the night Becky got proposed to—when the whole crowd egged Steven on to drop a knee too, he flung my hand away without a second thought, all because Claire, some sophomore, let out a shriek.
"Not now, Rachel. Claire's hurt. Can you not make this about you for once?"
That was all he left me with before he scooped her up and melted into the crowd.
What he didn't know was that there would never be a "not now" again.
In seven days, I'd be walking down the aisle in a wedding dress, just as promised.
Only the groom—wouldn't be him.

At my ex-wife's century wedding engagement banquet, she pointed at my nose and humiliated me publicly: "A waste of space who lays bricks, get out!"
Her wealthy new lover pressed my face hard into broken glass and forcibly dragged away my desperately crying five-year-old daughter.
I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth, drew the "Ghost Mark," and dialed the Pentagon hotline that had been dormant for five years.
Three seconds later, twelve Black Hawk helicopters shattered the dome, and a special task force descended from the sky. A two-star general, amid the terrified gazes of the assembled elite, saluted me with a thunderous: "Ghost Commander, troops have arrived as ordered!"
My ex-wife, who had been so arrogant just moments ago, instantly collapsed to the ground.

Dante once took three bullets for me, laying the entire New York underworld at my feet just to marry me.
I used to think Dante was the god who had pulled me from the abyss of the orphanage, until I discovered he was secretly planning a grand baptism for his illegitimate son with the princess of a rival family.
It turned out that the absolute devotion he gave me could be effortlessly replicated for another woman.
In that moment, I decided to die.
Of course, the one dying would be the Sera who had loved him.
The one surviving would stand in the shadows, watching him spiral step by step into madness and ruin within the wreckage of this so-called love.

Seven years of deep affection, expectations with a pregnant belly, and all I got was his betrayal in marriage and false promises. I gambled my youth and sincerity, only to end up with an absurd scam. After waking up, we owe each other nothing and will have no more ties.

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.

The night before graduation, a confession post blew up the school forum:
“Daphne, I’m gonna rip up my Harvard offer onstage during commencement to confess to you—my whole college future as my love token.”
The OP bragged nonstop in the comments that he’d locked down the state’s only full-ride Harvard scholarship, his admission was a done deal, and graduation was nothing but a meaningless formality anyway.
The attached photo showed their interlaced hands. That old burn scar on his forearm—the one he’d claimed he got saving me—stared back like a chain that’s trapped me for ten years straight.
I poured every cent, every spare hour and all my academic resource just to get him into Harvard. I even voluntarily stepped down from the scholarship race and passed the spot to him.
This childhood sweetheart who’d sworn we’d go to Harvard together only hours ago threw every promise out the window for a rich transfer student, willing to gamble both our futures just for a dramatic grand gesture.
I shut the forum tab, pulled up my email to the scholarship committee.
I’m formally taking back the scholarship spot I gave up！

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.