7869 Book(s) Related to Guardians of The Hex

When the deputy police chief is found dead in Innsmouth Harbor—naked, bearing a strange symbol, and arranged like a ritual sacrifice—Detective [Name] sees only a staged deception.
The victim’s wife seems too perfect, and his mistress is too eager to confess. Buried records reveal seven ignored distress calls.
Then, the autopsy reveals that the symbol was carved by two people.
Now, the wife’s gentle mask shatters.
The tide pulls back to reveal what’s been hidden all along.

Your ex, the one who took everything from you, announces at the ball that you're going to marry him... and tries to force you to agree. 😤 You shut him down hard. But then he sees the kiss mark on your neck and demands to know who did it. His rival, the famous playboy, the world’s richest billionaire pulls you close and says... 'Me.'

Sarah Mitchell thought she was living the American Dream. A devoted wife to a respected university professor. A loving mother. For thirty years, she clipped coupons, sewed until her hands bled, and made every dollar stretch—because that's what good wives do when money is tight.
Until the day a filing cabinet crashed to the basement floor and shattered everything she believed.
Hidden inside: pay stubs revealing her husband earned twice what he claimed. Bank statements showing hundreds of thousands transferred to another woman. Photographs of a life she never knew existed. And the devastating truth—while she watered down their baby's formula to save money, her husband was financing his mistress's dream house.
One woman. Thirty years of lies. And the courage to reclaim a life she thought was lost forever.

I'm now walking towards the deepest part of the forest, my heart beating so fast, the place so silent and spooky.
"Are you sure about this Isabella?" Yvonne asked, her voice trembling in fear.
"I'm sure myself, but I just want to be far away from those bullies in school" I said with sigh.
I sighted a cave, it was calling out to me, I want to run away, but the cafe intrigued me in a way I can't understand.
I found myself walking further, then I turned around, but to my surprise Yvonne was no longer there.
But yet, I was curious, so I continued walking further in.
My heartbeat accelerated, when my eyes landed on a very scary creature lurking in the darkness, but it said word that lingers into the debts of my memory.
'mate'
Meet the intriguing story of Isabella, she was known to be very skinny and ugly, no one wanted to be her friend in school,then there was a faithful day she was bullied that was the day everything about her life changed.
The very day she decided to explore the forest, not knowing that was a beginning of something mysterious and delirious.

Evan Hale had spent three years being invisible.

In the port city of Grayhaven, that meant midnight towing calls, grease under his nails, a cheap apartment above a closed pawnshop, and a daughter who still believed the world could be repaired with pancakes and tape. He let people call him broke. He let his ex-wife call him a failure. He let rich men look through him as if poverty had made him harmless.

Then Lily came to the tow yard with a hospital bracelet on her wrist and terror in her eyes.

The paperwork said Evan had lost his rights. The doctors said it was an emergency. The heir to Grayhaven's largest medical charity smiled like the city already belonged to him.

They were all wrong.

Because before Evan became a night-shift tow driver, he had been the man federal teams called when protected witnesses vanished, sealed evidence moved, and dangerous people needed to be found before sunrise. He had buried that life to keep his daughter safe.

Now the people hunting Lily had put her name on a list he recognized.

And Evan Hale was done hiding.

After four years of trying to conceive, I suddenly realized my husband had been drugging me so i couldn't give birth and when i asked he had shamelessly said
"he wasn't ready to be a father."

But, when I caught him in the hospital with his pregnant best friend, I couldn't bear it again and decided to leave.

Inside the private dining room, my seven-year-old daughter leans against the edge of the table. She waits for three hours, and her birthday cake melts. Dante texts me, claiming he is handling an "emergency arms deal" and telling us not to wait.

But his mistress's Instagram tells a completely different story.

She wears the limited-edition black diamond necklace Dante just bought, cozying up to someone in a top-tier club. The caption is blinding: "A real man always knows who comes first, even when bullets fly."

What is more brutal happens the next day. When stray bullets hit the casino, Dante actually shoves his own daughter away when she begs for help, turning his back to protect his mistress's nephew instead.

Looking at the bloody scratches on my daughter's arm, listening to him announce in public that "that boy is my only blood," my heart completely dies.

He doesn't know that to love him, the heir to the Romano Mafia family willingly suffered in the slums for seven years. And he treats our lives like garbage compared to an outsider.

Now, it is time to make him pay.

I'm alive.

When I jolted awake to see March 15th on my phone, I could barely believe it—I should have been dead since August 18th! Marcus, my Alpha husband, had murdered pregnant me with his own hands for his "childhood sweetheart" Freya's fake death.

Reborn to the night it all began, I heard the familiar pleading downstairs: "Please, Alpha Marcus! My daughter is dying!"

This time, when Marcus fed me that lie about "special wolf poison" to trick me into breaking our mate bond, I smiled and agreed.

The spring semester at the Academy had barely begun when Mother's enchanted letter burst into flames on my desk, that familiar acrid smoke already filling the air.
The smoke swirled and her voice emerged, sharp with anxiety:
"Cecilia, have you found a human man yet?"
"Less than a month left before we must present our tribute to the tribe. Noah is your own brother—can you really stand by and watch him die?"
Surrendering Noah meant certain death.
Over eighty Medusa females in the tribe were of breeding age. Noah had been frail since birth, his scales pale as paper.
If he were dragged onto that cold stone altar to serve as a breeding tool, he wouldn't survive the first night.
But where the hell was I supposed to find a human man?

Bryan and I had been together for a year.

He was gentle, thoughtful. I had no reason not to trust him.

Until the night the typhoon hit.

He called. He said he, his mother, and his brother's family were outside my door, soaking wet. They just needed somewhere to stay for the night.

I walked to the door.

My hand reached for the doorknob.

That's when I saw her in the hallway mirror.

My future self.

Covered in blood. Clothes shredded.

She was screaming at me. "Don't open the door! They'll kill you!"

Three years ago, I married Rex Cavano—New York's most dangerous mafia don—for this face. Not for love. Because I looked like his stepsister Isabella, the woman his family tore from him and sent to Rome.

I thought time would make him forget her. Until three months ago, when she came home a widow, and I finally understood: a substitute is always just a substitute. When the original returns, the fake gets thrown away.

So I made a decision.

I tricked him into signing divorce papers and accepted a job in a war zone in Colombia.

I'm leaving. Taking our child with me—a secret he'll never know—disappearing from his world forever.

I was nine months pregnant, soaking in the tub, when an anonymous email popped up.
The first attachment was my husband’s medical report. [Severe Azoospermia. 100% Sterile.]
I touched my swollen belly. If Arthur was sterile, whose baby was this?
The second attachment was a news article. [Billionaire's Pregnant Wife Drowns in Master Bath.]
The publication date was tomorrow morning. I thought it was a sick prank.
Then, the bathroom door opened. My husband stood there, loosening his tie.
"You look beautiful tonight," he murmured.

At our seventh wedding anniversary dinner, my husband Nathan audaciously discussed the name of the child his mistress Victoria was carrying, speaking in Spanish right in front of me.
They presumed I could not understand. Yet, not only did I comprehend every word, but I had also long ago uncovered evidence of their affair—including those passionate videos filmed in his car...
But when I vanished completely, he went into a frenzy.
When the news of the 'plane crash' broke, he spent fifty million dollars, deploying twelve rescue helicopters to search relentlessly through the storm for seven days and nights.
When the rescue team informed him that 'there were no survivors,' this once indomitable man knelt on the deck, weeping inconsolably like a child who has lost his mother.
Little did he know, there was no trace of me on that 'lost' plane.
And now, it was my turn to make him experience the true meaning of loss.

I spent two years alongside the Mafia don, serving as his most obedient secretary and most transparent wife, watching as he bestowed all his tenderness upon his shining muse. With great effort, I deceived him into signing the divorce papers and, turning away, fled to war-torn Syria, carrying his child within me. I believed I would never cross paths with him again, until one day, drenched in blood, he knelt amidst the rubble, desperately clawing at the stones, screaming my name. It was only after I left that he truly understood the meaning of loss...

On our fifth anniversary, my Mafia Don husband kissed my cheek, then switched to Corsican to tell our adopted daughter how much he enjoyed getting her pregnant piece by piece.

He didn't know I spoke seven languages. Corsican included.

He didn't know that in three days, I would vanish — no body, no trail, no goodbye.

When I disappeared, he lost his mind.

Now it was my turn to teach him what losing someone really meant.

I thought I had the perfect life.

A mansion in Westport, a successful husband, a beautiful daughter. Sixteen years of marriage that seemed unbreakable.

Until I found another woman's watch band in my husband's car.

Until I discovered that woman was my daughter's soccer coach.

Until I realized my nine-year-old daughter was helping her father lie to me.

Some betrayals strike like lightning. Others seep in like slow poison, until you discover your entire world is a lie.

When I stood on the platform at our annual community barbecue, armed with evidence and burning with rage, I understood a truth that would have destroyed the woman I used to be:

Sometimes the only way to save your family is to destroy it first.

No one knew I was an addict.
Not to alcohol, not to drugs, but to the rawest, dirtiest kind of union.
To keep up the facade of this respectable job, to stop myself from turning into some desperate, heat-crazed stray begging for a man’s touch on the street, I had to swallow those little blue pills every day.
Until that damn blizzard trapped me with thirty hockey players reeking of sweat and testosterone, and my pills—gone.

I am a Kitsune exiled from the East. Every twenty years, I must consume a soul soaked in pure sin to grow a new tail and survive.
With only ten days left to live, I was desperate. Then I met Julian. He gently paid off my crushing debts with a smile so warm, I almost thought I’d met an angel.
Until he leaned in close. Beneath his expensive woodsy cologne, I caught the heavy, undeniable stench of fresh women's blood.
I lowered my head, hiding the sudden thrill in my eyes.
I had finally found my monster.

This was the 99th time Sabrina stood me up for our wedding appointment.
Just as I was leaving, I got a text from that new male student of hers—attached was a photo of him shirtless, wrapped around her sleeping form with a caption that screamed pure provocation:
[If you really loved her, you wouldn't trap her with marriage. Can't you see she doesn't want this?]
When she finally picked up my call, her tone was beyond annoyed.
"Colin's having a meltdown over mixing the wrong colors, and if this piece gets ruined, it's on you. A marriage certificate is just a piece of paper—we'll do it another time."
She had no idea that, thanks to Colin "accidentally" spilling that cheap turpentine, my severe asthma was raging. Every breath felt like swallowing shards of glass dipped in blood.
And that "another time" she mentioned? It was never going to happen.
After hanging up, I calmly tossed the wedding ring I'd bought for her.
Then I turned and took the groom's suit from the senior who'd had a crush on me for seven years.

I'm the only daughter of a mafia leader. I married Marco, an outsider, against my father's wishes.

Six months ago, my father died in a car accident. Marco took over part of the family business. One day when I was feeling down, I passed through the slums and saved a girl named Gianna who was being beaten for stealing food. I took her in as my assistant and treated her like a sister.

But when I was six months pregnant, I walked into the company break room and found Gianna in lingerie, seducing Marco.

I ordered my guards to send her back to the slums immediately.

Marco tried to plead for her. I cut him off coldly: "I don't want to see her again."

He went silent for a moment but didn't oppose my decision.

Over the next three months, Marco seemed warm and caring on the surface but grew increasingly distant. I thought he was just busy with work and decided to help him after the baby was born.

My due date is this week.

Last night, Marco lulled me to sleep like always, his voice so gentle.

But now when I wake up, I find myself lying in the middle of a deserted forest.

And my husband, holding Gianna whom I had sent away, looked at me arrogantly and said, "Since you love sending people away so much, I suppose it shouldn't be a problem for me to send you here to give birth, should it?"

The tour bus hung precariously over the cliff's edge, smoke billowing from its engine. Inside, two pregnant women were trapped.

"Captain Walker, both pregnant women are in critical condition. Who do we save first?"

I had been pierced by a steel rod through my abdomen, my water had broken, and I was screaming desperately at my husband:

"Ryan Walker! My water broke! The baby's dying!"

On the other side, his first love Stella clutched her chest, her face deathly pale:

"Ryan, I'm having a heart attack! Save me!"

The man in the firefighter uniform charged toward Stella's side without hesitation.

"Captain, your wife's position is easier to reach!" team member Mike shouted.

"SHUT UP! Follow orders!"

He rushed to Stella without looking back, leaving behind one sentence:

"She won't die. I'm her husband, I take full responsibility."

No one would believe that Lorenzo Moretti's wife—the mafia Don's wife—

had to kneel in his study and beg him to approve three hundred thousand dollars to save her brother's life.

All because he thought a woman from Brooklyn's slums needed constant reminding of her place.

Just last night, kidnappers sent photos of my brother's severed finger, and I got on my knees begging him to sign that goddamn form.

His trusted advisor Sofia stamped "REJECTED" in red ink, sneering: "Insufficient proof."

Lorenzo didn't know I endured this humiliation because I once loved him.

Now Sofia told me my brother was dead, dumped in the Hudson River.

I don't need to be his caged canary anymore.

Look, I'd heard the rumors: Skyward International's flight attendants? You never see 'em anywhere but the airport. Not once. Kinda spooky, but my coworker drops this smirk—"First time? You'll get it"—and I'm boarding Flight 6108, heart pounding.

This chief stewardess, Tiffany? Stunning. Locks eyes, buckles me in, perfume hits like a drug. Later, service cart rolls up. "Airsick? C'mon." Door shuts in the crew lounge. Boom—she's on her knees. "Relaxation service." Zipper down, wipes me clean, then swallows my cock whole. Balls-deep, tongue on my sack, cheeks sucking vacuum. "Big one," she whispers, eyes pleading like she needs my okay.

I got paid to test-sleep an heiress's fiancé.
One problem: he's my boss.
Bigger problem: I've been catfishing him online for six months—as his fiancée.
Now I'm pregnant. And he just called my real name.

Emily Hart just landed the dream job: personal secretary to the sinfully rich, dangerously fine CEO of Steele Empire.
Naturally, she celebrated the only way she knew how—club lights, thumping beats, a killer dress, and shots flowing until reality blurred and pleasure took the wheel.
Then he happened. Dominic Steele. Billionaire boss. Ruthless in the boardroom. Untamed in the bedroom.
He saw her—hips swaying, lips smirking, black dress clinging like a second skin—and didn't ask for a name. He just took. One night. One filthy, breathless, back-arching night. No promises. No names. Just raw heat and moans that echoed past midnight.
Monday morning changed everything. The man who had made her beg without words now stood behind a glass desk in a tailored suit. She was his new secretary, unable to meet his gaze without remembering how he'd made her scream.
She thought he was cocky as hell. He thought she was the sweetest kind of chaos.
Then came the unexpected. A missed period. Suddenly, it was no longer just business. It was Daddy, please...

On our wedding night, James moaned my sister's name while inside me.

I shoved him off in fury. He looked down me with contempt.

"You're just a replacement for Raina. Don't expect too much."

Later, a fake surveillance video pinned Raina's death on me.

I couldn't prove my innocence. James had me thrown into prison.

For three whole years, I endured abuse behind bars.

The day James picked me up, he tore off my clothes and forced himself inside me.

Afterward, he tossed a document at me. "Sign it."

Turns out David—his and Raina's son—had leukemia.

He wanted me to bear a child—only to sacrifice it to save the one he had with Raina?

I couldn't accept it.

A cold smirk crossed his handsome face. "Refuse? Then your mother's medical funding ends now."

"Your only value lies in your womb. Learn to obey."

From then on, he came to my room nightly. There was no tenderness, only brutal taking.

Then fate played its cruelest joke.

I discovered a paternity test—it proved I was David's biological mother.

Which meant... David was my son? Mine and James's?

Evelyn Vale plans weddings, memorials, and private family ceremonies for people who care too much about how grief looks on camera. She knows lighting, timing, guest flow, and the hidden machinery behind a perfect public moment.

Then one night, while sitting beside the husband who kisses her goodnight, she sees a livestream event scheduled for tomorrow: her own memorial service.

The cover uses her mourning portrait. Grant, her husband, is posed as the devastated widower. Serena, her half sister, stands beside him like a woman already rehearsing the role of replacement wife.

At first Evelyn wants it to be a mistake. Then the invoices appear. The funeral campaign is paid for. The backend record existed. Someone with internal clearance created it, deleted it, and expected Evelyn to die before the broadcast.

Julian Cross, a former livestream safety investigator disgraced by an old death case, is the first person who treats Evelyn's fear as evidence. Together they follow the countdown through funeral contracts, planted comments, medical manipulation, board pressure, platform corruption, and a hidden operator using public grief as a business model.

But Evelyn is not waiting to be rescued. She knows how to build an event. She knows where witnesses should stand, when a microphone should stay open, and how a lie collapses when the room sees the right proof at the right time.

Grant scheduled the funeral.

Evelyn hosts it better.

Ella is betrayed in her 25th birthday by her boyfriend, leading to a one-night stand at a bar. She Initially mistaking Eric for just a call boy, later, she discovers that he is actually an Alpha of a pack, leading to an unwanted pregnancy. She ran away without a trace, bearing and taking care of the twins alone. It's later turned out to be an interesting romance. What happens when Eric discover that the twins are actually his? Will Ella forgive Eric for betraying her?

Sienna Cole has the perfect life.

She is the girl everyone watches and nobody really knows and she has worked very hard to keep it that way.

Until Jax Reeves walks into Westfield High, He doesn't talk much neither does he even try to impress anyone. And he looks at Sienna like he can see every single thing she is hiding behind her perfect smile.

She is not interested. She says so loudly. Multiple times. To anyone who will listen.

So when her best friend Chloe asks permission to pursue him, Sienna says yes without blinking.

It is the worst decision she has ever made.

Because the moment she watches Jax look at Chloe the way Sienna secretly wanted him to look at her, something inside her snaps clean in half. Now she is lying to her boyfriend, sabotaging her best friend's relationship, and slowly falling apart in front of the only six people in the world she truly loves.

The question is will Sienna finally tell the truth before she loses everything?

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

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

In order to rush to comfort his assistant whose apartment was leaking, Richard signed his name hastily without even glancing at the documents on the table.
I put away the divorce agreement with a wry smile.
When he and my son completely disappeared, he finally panicked.
Three months later .
He knelt down on the streets of Chicago in despair, begging me to remarry him.
My six-year-old son looked coldly at his biological father and said, "Get lost, you bad uncle! You don't deserve to be my dad!"

Bianca McIntyre once had it all—wealth, power, and the promise of a fairytale life. But when tragedy struck and her family died, she made the mistake of trusting Marcus Steele, the charming heir who became her husband. For three years, he betrayed her, drained her inheritance, and shattered her heart. On their anniversary, she caught him in bed with her best friend—and walked away from everything.

On a flight to Spain, broken and desperate, Bianca met a mysterious older man who offered her three nights of freedom. Three nights of passion, escape, and raw desire. She never asked his name… until fate revealed the shocking truth.

Her stranger wasn’t just any man—he was Leon Steele. Marcus’s father. The ruthless patriarch of the Steele empire.

Drawn into a forbidden affair, Bianca finds herself caught in a dangerous game of lust, power, and betrayal. Marcus wants to destroy her, Leon wants to protect her, and secrets threaten to tear everything apart.

Now Bianca must fight for her legacy, her heart, and the child who could change everything. But will she survive her father-in-law's forbidden passion?

I was dying — and he was loving someone else.
I left.
Now he wants me back… but will I let him?

He filled my head with lies.
Then he set my world on fire.

Gavril Vaknin.
Richer than God.
Crueler than the devil.

And if he has his way…
My new fake husband.

A chance meeting turns into a once-in-a-lifetime offer.
The billionaire don needs a blank slate to turn into his perfect politician’s wife.
I’m homeless and desperate—what do I have to lose?

But Gavril is hiding secrets. Cloaked in lies.
Stepping into his world is a one-way ticket to a hell I won’t survive.

Did I do the right thing?
Or did I just sell my soul to a monster?

The first thing they took was my baby.

The second was my parents.

The third was my freedom, my eyes, and every reason to live.

My husband gave me to three men on our anniversary. He chained me in a doghouse while his mistress laughed. He fed me my own son’s remains and called it mercy.

He said I was dirty. He said I deserved it.

But the DNA test he trusted was a lie. The video was staged. And the woman he’s about to marry is the one who destroyed us all.

I tried to die. Four times.

Now I’m done trying.

They put a dead woman in the ground. They’re about to find out she brought hell back with her.

She woke up naked, bound, and on display in a birdcage.

Her husband sat in the front row while strangers bid on her unborn son's organs. He believed the video. The DNA test. The other woman's lies.

They took her baby. They took her mother. They tried to take her mind.

So she let them think she was broken. She smiled through the electric shocks. She bent without breaking. She counted down to the surgery that was supposed to kill her.

But she wasn't counting down to her death.

She was counting down to theirs.

They wanted her heart?

She'll give it to them—still beating, as she becomes their judge, jury, and executioner.

Dark Revenge Romance. CW: non-con, graphic violence, pregnancy loss, captivity. Read with caution.

“I’ll give you anything, Elsa—money, a car, a house, jewelry—just agree to the transplant. Ria really needs it.” I couldn’t believe his audacity. Was this really my husband, trying to bargain my body to save his fiancée?
“Sorry, I’m pregnant. I can’t donate a kidney,” I said, my voice shaky but determined. Anger boiled inside me, but I knew he was powerful. The pretend marriage was over, and his true colors were revealed. Afraid of what he might do to me, I didn’t yell or fight him. I just wanted to escape this nightmare, to break free from this cage I was trapped in.
But his reaction was even more chilling. He looked at me with no emotion.
“We’ll have an abortion.” His words hit me like a bomb. I couldn’t believe how coldly he spoke about ending his own child’s life.

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.

Twenty-one times.

I've signed the mate bond with Kael Nightshade, Lord of the Black Panther Clan, twenty-one times.

And dissolved it twenty-one times.

Not because we didn't love each other.

But because every few months, she comes back.

Seraphine. His first love. The angel who shattered her wings saving him, leaving her mind fractured and fragile.

"Seeing the mate mark sends her into psychotic breaks," he'd say, burning the bond from my skin. "I owe her my life."

So I'd erase the mark. Burn the contract. Pretend we were never bound.

The first time, I cried and begged. He backhanded me: "Cut the bullshit. We'll rebond once she's back in the sanatorium."

The thirteenth time, I followed them to a tavern and watched him tenderly kiss the scarred stumps where her wings used to be. When I confronted them, he knocked me down and locked me in enchanted restraints for seven days straight.

Sign. Burn. Erase. An endless cycle I couldn't escape.

Until the twenty-first time.

Fire engulfed the manor. Seraphine and I were trapped in different wings. Kael could only save one of us.

"Kael!" I collapsed at the window, smoke choking my lungs. "I'm pregnant—please—"

He shifted into his panther form and bolted toward her room.

The guards dragged me out thirty minutes later. Third-degree burns across my back, lungs filled with ash, blood pooling beneath me.

No heartbeat.

Kael stood in the safe zone, holding an unscathed Seraphine in his arms. From the moment the flames erupted until they pulled me from the rubble, he never looked back.

Not once.

The twenty-first dissolution was my choice.

There won't be a twenty-second.

On the day of the clan’s grand sea banquet, my mafia husband Victor took his beloved white moonlight Lilia to race jet skis in restricted sea waters without permission.
She twisted the throttle all the way open, and the jet ski crashed violently into the my luxury yacht.
The yacht quickly flooded and began sinking, yet Victor completely ignored the people screaming for help on board, only clinging tightly to the terrified Lilia and comforting her softly.
"Don’t be afraid. They trespassed into the restricted sea zone of their own accord; they deserve everything that happened to them."
Not until the entire yacht sank deep into the ocean and everyone aboard vanished without a trace did Victor dial my phone unhurriedly.
"Vera, your mom and Dante are gone in the sea."
In an instant, overwhelming terror swallowed me whole.
The very next second, I saw Mom shoving freshly cooked meat into my mouth just as she did when I was a child.
My brother hurried over with a grin to snatch a bite.
"Mom, you always favor my sister."
They are standing right beside me. Then who on earth was trapped inside that sunken yacht?

The mafia boss chose me as his decoy—a body double for the woman he loves.

Eight years. Three bullets, one car crash, one explosion. The doctor said ten more minutes and I would've died on that operating table when they took my kidney. I gave him a son. He let me play "the boss's wife" in public.

Until he cleared every obstacle for her and decided to marry her.

Her wedding photos replaced mine in the master bedroom. He has her initials tattooed on his arm. When I questioned him, he had his men slap me at a charity gala, forced me to admit "I'm just a stand-in." When I touched her, he took away my custody, declared she was "the true lady of this house."

The punishments got worse. When he threatened to cancel my mother's insurance, I finally learned to shut up.

He pulls me close, whispers in my ear: "She gave up everything for me. Not like you—you were born to take bullets for me."

"Deal with it. She's not replacing you. This is her house now."

Even my son took her side.

"Stop being dramatic! Natalie actually loves us! You're nothing!"

But their pure, innocent Natalie? She unplugged my mother's ventilator while I was locked in the basement. Let his enemies slip poison into my drink during the last job.

When Grayson found me, all he said was: "She's pregnant and emotional. Go rearrange the flowers at the wedding venue."

I wipe the black blood from my lips. Look at him quietly.

"I'm dying."

They called me a hellcat. A she-wolf tyrant. The Luna who made her Alpha husband obey.
I held him together when his father died. Built his dying pack into a powerhouse while he flirted with she-wolves.
Then he brought home his "fated mate."
Everyone waited for me to explode.
Instead, I smiled. "I'll help you prepare the ceremony."
That's when my wolf—dormant for years—began to wake.

“Whom does this female belong to? She possesses no seat here. This is not a place for females.”
An older male wolf's authoritative and influential voice blares throughout the room, the high walls carrying the sound of his condemnation of my presence.

“I think you are mistaken for IT IS the place for me. I am an Alpha.” A flash of teeth from my side as my warrior spirit soars, a slow wild lick of my lower lip to taunt him eyes glaring at the ill-bred male whilst I continue to confidently saunter to my rightful seat on the table.

Whispers and murmurs travel through the room gossips spreading like wildfire as they inspect my flesh head to toe. Their suits are neat, in many instances fine, and wherever I encountered the eye of one it is only to recognize in it a degrading and unwelcoming stare. They find me unworthy.

There is a deep familiarity with these kinds of unhesitant stares for this is my normality of life. To be met with hate, disgust, and humiliation of the soul I possess. It is not because they do not know me. They do know. They know of the battles I had won for my pack. And they certainly feel the strength I possess.

Perhaps they merely pretend to be blind and deaf, to remain oblivious to my surging vigour. Or perhaps, they failed to anticipate that I would be the first female Alpha to stand in this hall; the only wolf not in a suit; the only female who can sit at the same table with males.

⚠️MATURE READERS ONLY⚠️ DARK ROMANCE ⚠️

“She has to be at an age range that was close to mine, smart, beautiful, and a virgin” he said looking at his mother whose eyes widened.
“Alpha, how are we to find out if she was a virgin or not…?”
“I don’t care, if I am to marry a human who isn’t my mate, then she is to be one who has never been touched by a man” the Alpha said getting up from the couch.
“What are we to do, mum?” His sister asked.
“We’ll find him what he asked for…”
And that is exactly what they did…


When Alpha Blake had put out his condition on his mother and sister, he never thought that they would be able to find the woman he asked for in such a short period of time. However, when they showed him her picture, he was forced to comply.
“Her name is Natalia Adams, and she is everything you asked for”

"I have a proposal.” Nicholas softly stroked my skin as he watched me. “I want children. And I want you to help me with that.” He wanted me to give him a child! "In return, I will give you everything you could ever want.”


Orphaned and with no place to call home, Willow's only chance at happiness was to attend college. When her scholarship fell through, she could only contact Nicholas Rowe, a mysterious and downright sinful billionaire, to give her the money she rightfully deserves.

How would she have known that not only would he be willing to fund her education, but he also wanted her to be the mother of his children! This was not part of the plan. But when faced with temptation, Willow could only accept the indecent proposal and fall into the older man's clutches.

Will their relationship last? What will happen when the ghosts of Nicholas’ past appear to tear the couple apart? Can they survive the storm?

He’s the alpha king, my crush, my guardian. And he’s 20 years older than me.
**
“How old are you?”
“T-Twenty,” I bit my lower lip, stuttering on the lie. “I’m an adult.”
I trembled but turned my head, allowing him to drag his nose along my neck and breathe in my scent. I didn’t know what I smelled like to him. Did I smell like I was lying?
I held still. He shifted just a bit, seemingly retreating, and I flung my arms around his neck, holding him down.
“Please, Alpha King,” I said. My voice trembled even as I tried to sound sultry. “I’m… sure I can please you.”
“Do you know what happens when you lie to the Alpha King, little girl?”
He knew. I should have known that he would know I wasn’t twenty.
“You seem so deliberate, but I’m not interested in your offer. How about we play a game?”
“A-A game?”
He narrowed his eyes and gave me a slow, cruel smile.
“If you win, I’ll grant you sanctuary.”
My eyes widened with a spark of hope.
“But if you lose….”

Married for months but still a virgin. Drugged by her husband and stepsister, she ended up with a mysterious lover.
Her husband accused her of infidelity and found a convenient reason to divorce her.
She lost everything, her properties, her virginity, her inheritance and her home and was thrown on the street.
No parents, no home, no roof over her head, Theresa Mo sought for death and wished she could stop living but death seemed to perceive her yearning and flee from her.
She became pregnant and her world came crumbling. Where does she turn to when she doesn't even know who got her Pregnant?
Junxie Li, the youngest billionaire and a handsome dude, was in search of the woman he had a one night stand with…
Four years later, Junxie Li stumbled upon two boys who are a miniature of himself and thundered "who is your mother?"