After my mate took my liver, I discovered my true identity
At the full moon bash, I endured Wesley's humiliation as he belittled me before the pack.
Discovering he only saw me as the liver donor who saved him-plus a pawn to silence tabloids-cut deep. When Wendy leaked private photos and a traumatic video of my past abuse, I thought it was over.
But Mrs. Leland stepped in, betting the entire Leland fortune on my poker hand.
I won with a straight flush, shocking everyone. Then Mrs. Leland revealed the truth: I was her biological daughter, swapped at birth......
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Chapter 3
Their grins stretched wider, sharp and cold.
"Quit messing around-show us a few first!" Before I could pull them up, Wendy butted in, slapping some into the group chat.
The wolves'eyes locked onto their screens, practically salivating.
"Who knew this skinny she-wolf was hiding all that? Damn!"
"Look at those bedroom eyes. I'd trade my car for one night with her!"
The photos were raw-me, caught in the moment with Wesley, snapped from angles that weren't his usual posed shots.
That's when it clicked: Wendy had been snooping on us, capturing every private second between me and my mate. My hands balled into fists, the public shame making me want to bolt.
"How the hell do you have pictures from our bedroom?" I snapped.
Wendy smirked, full of herself. "Wesley and I share everything. You're just his fling-who are you to question me?"
I spun to Wesley, but he wouldn't meet my gaze.
"You're fine with your foster sister watching us like that? Doesn't that weird you out? You're adults, and you're still peeking at each other's private stuff? That's not messed up to you?"
He shrugged, getting annoyed with me.
"You're the one who should be ashamed! Acting all sweet and nice for my mom, but it's all fake. We're supposed to be bound, and you're slinging our private photos around like some low con artist. You call that good enough for a Leland mate?"
Real funny, him forgetting he's the one who pushed me here.
Wendy's smile dripped venom.
"Wesley, maybe this is just what Xandra's like. You can still break the bond before it's too late!"
The other players, lapping up the drama, started flashing their cards to each other, not even trying to hide it.
"This is gonna be great. Little miss goody-two-shoes has a wild streak!"
I stared them down, face blank, waiting for the flop.
Sure enough, after checking their hands, two folded-their cards were garbage.
Quincy, oldest of the Dorne, took the lead. "This she-wolf's got guts. Let's not look like wimps. I'm betting all my mate's clothes-plus a brand-new villa, just 'cause!"
The others jumped in. "I'm in with 20% of pack shares!" "Throw in a storefront from me!" "Two Bentleys here!"
The dealer flipped the community cards, and a few players nodded at each other-their hands were strong.
All eyes turned to me. "Ms. Merrick, you already bet your best stuff. What's left?"
"What, you gonna offer your first night with us? Heard Wesley had you hurt bad-used goods don't count!"
"But we're curious. Wesley looks so put-together, but you two are already going rough before you're bound. Bet the Leland house'll shake on your binding night!"
I stared at Wesley, shocked he'd blab something that private.
In his eyes, I was just cheap.
When I gave him that liver, staring at his pale face in that hospital bed, I fell hard-love at first sight. I dreamed he'd see how much I cared, that we'd be inseparable. But we're not even bound, and he's already turning our private moments into jokes for the room.
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9.2
Druscilla Hayes thought heartbreak had a limit.
She was wrong.
On the night of her bachelorette party, she survives a shootout - and is rescued by a dangerously irresistible stranger with mismatched eyes and a criminal smile.
Ivanov Rodriguez is everything she shouldn't want.
Everything her perfect fiance is not.
But when Druscilla discovers her fiancé's betrayal, she runs straight into Ivanov's arms - only to learn too late that she was never more than a pawn in his revenge.
Years later, she's rebuilt her life, her heart, and her future.
Until fate drags her back into the orbit of the man who once ruined her.
This time, she has nothing left to lose.
Except the truth that could destroy them both
⚠️ WARNING:
This book contains immorality, forbidden desire, dangerous attraction, and morally questionable characters.
If you believe love should always be pure and choices should always be right...
This story is not for you.
Proceed only if you enjoy chaos, passion, and bad decisions.
8.4
I saved a man bleeding out in the snow. He had no memory, so I called him Ben.
We lived in a cabin, fell in love, and married by firelight with no witnesses but the ghosts of my parents.
Then one day, he disappeared.
Two years later, he returned. Not as my husband, but as Bernard Logan, the ruthless Underboss of the city's most dangerous crime family.
And he didn't remember me.
He brought his cruel new fiancée to my clinic and treated me like a stranger.
When she threw my father’s antique music box into a cactus display, he watched as I tore my hands apart trying to save it.
He called our past a "drug-induced hallucination" and threatened to destroy me if I spoke up.
Worst of all, I found out I was pregnant.
He cornered me in the hospital room, his eyes cold and devoid of the warmth I used to know.
"Is it mine?"
I knew if I said yes, he would turn my child into a killer like him. Or his fiancée would ensure we never survived.
So I looked the love of my life in the eye and lied.
"No," I said. "It's not yours."
I signed his NDA, took his hush money, and vanished to Europe to raise my twins alone.
I thought I was free. I found a good man who actually loved me.
But three years later, at an art gallery in Zurich, the crowd parted.
Bernard was standing there, staring at me with a terrifying hunger.
He had found out the truth.
And he was ready to burn the world down to get us back.
7.2
I was the moral compass of modern media, a journalist with a flawless record and a penthouse life with my husband, Britton.
Then one phone call shattered it all. He blackmailed me, using a dark secret I kept for him, forcing me to retract a story and destroy my own career to protect his intern, Baylee.
The fallout was brutal. My reputation was ruined overnight. Fleeing the city, I was in a horrific car accident and woke up in the hospital to learn I'd had a miscarriage.
The final blow came when I called him for help, only to hear his intern giggling in the background.
The man I loved since we were kids, the one who swore to protect me, had orchestrated my ruin and cost me our child.
He left me for dead at the bottom of a cliff.
But he made one mistake: he didn't make sure I was dead. Pulled from the ocean by a mysterious stranger, I was reborn. Now, I'm coming back to reclaim everything he took-and make him pay.
7.4
On my 21st birthday, my fiancé Chandler and my adoptive sister Brenda drugged me and sold my first night at a secret auction.
Then they framed me for arson, and I spent the next three years in prison learning how to survive.
After my release, I fought in underground clubs, bleeding for the money to buy back my family's brownstone. But Chandler found me, calling me a "common harlot" as he tried to drag me home.
He offered me a "last chance" to apologize to Brenda for the crimes she committed. When I refused, he publicly announced the sale of my home.
All proceeds would be donated to the "Brenda Richardson Philanthropic Foundation."
He didn't just take my money; he took my soul. He took the last tangible piece of my parents, of my identity. Everything was gone.
As I collapsed onto the grimy floor, my world shattered, I fumbled for my phone. There was only one name left, one last hope.
"Brien," I choked out, my voice broken. "Please. I need your help. Get me out of here."
8.3
Six years ago, I was a naive girl sold by my father to the powerful Sanders estate, only to be tossed onto the streets after a brutal assault they labeled "marital infidelity." I fled the country pregnant and broken, hiding from the shadow of a husband I had never even met. Now, I've returned to New York with my triplets to sign the final divorce papers and disappear forever.
But Archibald Sanders-the man I was told was a crippled recluse-intercepted us with the cold precision of a predator. He didn't see the woman his family destroyed; he saw a gold-digger who had shamed his name. His security team hunted us to a grimy motel, using tactical force to snatch my children away and drag me to his glass-walled empire.
In his office, he loomed over me, demanding a DNA test and threatening to throw me in prison while my babies were lost to the foster system. He was convinced I'd cheated, yet he stared at my sons with a haunting confusion, unable to ignore the stormy blue eyes that were a perfect mirror of his own. I stood there, paralyzed by his scent-the sharp tang of rain and expensive leather that triggered the icy dread of my worst nightmares.
How could he accuse me of betrayal when he felt exactly like the monster who had shattered my life in that dark hotel room?
"I'll sign anything," I sobbed, "just give me my kids."
But the game changed when my five-year-old son hacked the tower's security, holding the skyscraper hostage to save me. In the chaos, a fragile, silent boy-Archibald's secret son-wandered into the room and reached for me as if I were his missing soul. Archibald's face turned to stone as he tore up the agreement and locked the doors.
"Until I find out why my son is looking at you like that," he growled, "you aren't going anywhere."
9.4
I woke up in Augustine Haynes’s high-thread-count gray sheets, my head throbbing and my throat dry. I told him last night wasn't just about the alcohol, but he didn't even look at me as he tightened his silk tie, treating me like a piece of displaced furniture.
He thought I was just a girl from the Rust Belt who’d slept her way into his bed to gain leverage after a failed corporate deal. But when I leaned in and whispered the words "Project Chimera" along with the details of his secret offshore accounts, his cold indifference turned into a sharp, dangerous focus.
I forced him into a three-month deal: he would stay out of my way and ignore my moves in the city, or I’d leak the data that would ruin him. To execute my real plan, I transformed into "Siren," a masked singer at the Onyx Room, specifically designed to bait Julian Talley. I even threw myself into the freezing black water of the harbor just to let Julian "save" me, trapping the heir to a corrupt empire in a web of manufactured guilt.
Augustine watched from the shadows, convinced I was just a gold digger with a flair for the dramatic, while Julian showered me with cash and Hermès bags to ease his conscience. They didn't see the shaking hands I hid every time I remembered my mother’s voice screaming through the smoke of our burning home. I wasn't looking for an affair or a career; I was a ghost using their own greed as a noose.
Now, I finally have the invitation to the Talley Family Gala and the encryption keys to their darkest secrets. Julian thinks he’s found a soul to save, and Augustine thinks he’s managing a risky asset. They have no idea that the girl they’ve let into their inner sanctum is about to burn their entire world to ash.