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I smoothed the wrinkles from my beige dress—the one Kian had once said made me look "appropriately modest"—and surveyed our dining table with critical eyes. The candles were perfectly aligned, the wine breathing in crystal glasses, and the anniversary dinner I'd spent all day preparing steamed invitingly. One year of marriage. One year of transforming myself into the wife I thought Kian wanted. "Perfect timing," I whispered to myself, checking my watch. Kian would be home any minute. When the door clicked open, I arranged my features into a welcoming smile. "Happy anniversary," I said, rising to kiss him. "Ah, yes. One year." He kissed my forehead absently, his mind already elsewhere.

Lily moved to another city after her mother remarried, at first she hated everything about her new life but over time, she slowly began to accept her fate, especially after meeting Byrain. But little did she know that dark twists from the people closest to her were waiting in the shadows, ready to haunt her forever.

For five years, I was the devoted girlfriend of a corporate heir, Alden Stone. He gave me a single red rose every month, a symbol of his love. But it was all a beautifully crafted lie. On our anniversary, I discovered the truth: the roses were named "Gabriella," for the woman he was obsessed with. He didn't just break my heart; he stole my life's work-a revolutionary cancer formula-and gave it to her to secure their family alliance. At the gala celebrating her supposed genius, I confronted him. "Don't make a scene," he hissed, his eyes cold. "Gabriella is pregnant. If you try to expose her, I will personally see to it that your career is over." From the stage, Gabriella gave me a predatory smile, flaunting a diamond bracelet I had designed for myself. My love, my future, my life's work-all sacrificed for his obsession. He had played me for a fool and left me with nothing. So I faked my death. I recorded a video exposing their lies, set it to go viral, and sailed his yacht straight into a storm. The world would believe Katelynn Walls was dead, but I was just getting started.

After our parents died in a plane crash, my brothers were my whole world. That ended the day they brought Francis home-a manipulative liar they treated like a saint while he systematically turned them against me. He framed me for everything, from fake injuries to sabotaging the neuro-linker compound that was my life's work. My brothers always chose his crocodile tears over my truth. "He's in the hospital, Jenna. Thanks to you," Bryan snarled over the phone. They even offered him my childhood bedroom right in front of me, as if I was already a ghost. They had no idea I was about to become one. I had a one-way ticket to Zurich and a contract with their biggest rival, a man who saw my value when my own blood saw a problem. I wasn't just running away-I was taking all of their secrets with me.

He lifted his hand and brushed a strand of hair from my face, fingers grazing too gently. I snapped, "How many times do I have to tell you not to touch me?" His mouth curved, the faintest smirk. "You walked in here looking like a fucking temptation. And you think I'm not supposed to touch?" I tilted my chin, refusing to back down. "Funny. I thought you said I didn't look good." He leaned closer, voice low, eyes burning through me. "You don't look good. You look dangerous." My chest tightened, heat crawling under my skin. I rolled my eyes, masking the pull I refused to admit. "Get lost," I muttered, shoving against him. "You're mine, Tessa," ****** His Biker Girl | swore l'd never get tangled up with bikers. Then I met him. Jason "Viper" Kane, the ruthless prince of the Black Serpents. Arrogant. Untouchable. Dangerous. Every girl on campus wants him, but not me. He thought I'd be easy to break. He was wrong. Her Biker Prince She's fire wrapped in leather, and every time she rides, she tempts me closer to the edge. Tessa Monroe, bold, defiant, impossible to control. I wanted to crush her pride, ruin that ego, make her beg. But the more I chase her, the more I burn. She's the one thing I shouldn't want. And the only thing l'll never let go.

I spent ten years as the ward of Kason Oneal, the ruthless Underboss of the city's most dangerous crime family. He saved me when I was a child, raised me, and made me believe I was his queen. But the moment his ex-girlfriend, Dalia, returned, the illusion shattered. Kason demanded I return the jade pendant—the one he had hand-carved for my sixteenth birthday—just so he could hang it around Dalia's neck. To him, I was suddenly nothing more than a placeholder who had kept his bed warm. The cruelty didn't stop there. He stood by and watched as Dalia shredded my clothes with scissors, laughing at my tears. When I collapsed on the floor in agony from acute appendicitis, Kason didn't call an ambulance. Instead, he dragged me to a shady clinic, accusing me of faking a pregnancy to trap him. He ordered the doctor to "terminate it" while I was dying of sepsis on the table. He called me trash. He called me property. He stripped away every ounce of dignity I had left, all to please a woman who was lying to his face. I realized then that the hero who saved me when I was ten was dead. I was done begging for scraps of affection from a monster. Trembling, I walked to the phone and dialed the number of the one man Kason feared most—his sworn enemy, Hadley Payne. "Tell him yes," I whispered into the receiver. "I accept the arrangement. I will marry him." Kason thought he could break me. Instead, he was about to watch his "property" become the Queen of the rival family.

Rain hammered against the asphalt as my sedan spun violently into the guardrail on the I-95. Blood trickled down my temple, stinging my eyes, while the rhythmic slap of the windshield wipers mocked my panic. Trembling, I dialed my husband, Clive. His executive assistant answered instead, his voice professional and utterly cold. "Mr. Wilson says to stop the theatrics. He said, and I quote, 'Hang up. Tell her I don't have time for her emotional blackmail tonight.'" The line went dead while I was still trapped in the wreckage. At the hospital, I watched the news footage of Clive wrapping his jacket around his "fragile" ex-girlfriend, Angelena, shielding her from the storm I was currently bleeding in. When I returned to our penthouse, I found a prenatal ultrasound in his suit pocket, dated the day he claimed to be on a business trip. Instead of an apology, Clive met me with a sneer. He told me I was nothing but an "expensive decoration" his father bought to make him look stable. He froze my bank accounts and cut off my cards, waiting for the hunger to drive me back to his feet. I stared at the man I had loved for four years, realizing he didn't just want a wife; he wanted a prop he could switch off. He thought he could starve me into submission while he played father to another woman's child. But Clive forgot one thing. Before I was his trophy wife, I was Starfall-the legendary voice actress who vanished at the height of her fame. "I'm not jealous, Clive. I'm done." I grabbed my old microphone and walked out. I'm not just leaving him; I'm taking the lead role in the biggest saga in Hollywood-the one Angelena is desperate for. This time, the "decoration" is going to burn his world down.

Aurelia Vale thought it was just an interview. Until the most powerful Alpha in the city looked at her like she belonged to him... -and then rejected her like she meant nothing. Lucien Blackthorne doesn't make mistakes. He doesn't follow fate. And he definitely doesn't accept a weak, ordinary girl as his mate. So he humiliates her. Publicly. Cruelly. Aurelia leaves with nothing but a broken heart... and a secret that will shake his empire. She's pregnant. With the Alpha's heir. But this isn't just any child. It's a child tied to an ancient prophecy-one powerful enough to destroy packs... or rule them all. Now enemies are hunting her. The bond she tried to forget is pulling her back. And the man who rejected her is starting to realize the truth- He didn't just reject his mate. He rejected the only woman who could save him. But Aurelia is no longer the girl he cast aside. And this time... she might be the one to reject him.

Sold for scraps.Saved by a monster. Destined to rule them all. Faith is a "Dud", a wolfless orphan living in the shadows of the trenches. Treated as a servant by her own family, she hides a mind more brilliant than any Alpha's instinct. But in the process of winning a life-changing scholarship, she is betrayed. Drugged and sold to traffickers by her own aunt, Faith thought her life was over -until she falls from a third-story window and lands on the hood of a car that belongs to the most dangerous man in the country. Killian Nightshade. Billionaire. Alpha of the Blackwood Pack. A man who rules with ice in his veins and power in his hands. Killian doesn't do favors. He makes investments. He claims Faith as his "Personal Shadow" to work off the debt of his ruined car. But as he forces her into the shark-infested waters of the North Elite Academy, he finds himself breaking his own rule: Never get attached to the help. While Faith battles ruthless bullies and the predatory interest of Killian's rival, Silas, a twenty-year-old secret begins to stir in her blood. She isn't just a Dud. She is a legend. And when the girl who was sold for scraps finally shifts, the entire werewolf world will have to decide: Will they bow to their new Queen, or be burned by her fire?

I woke up on Thanksgiving morning with a sense of dread I couldn't shake. Something felt wrong in our house, though I couldn't put my finger on it. Sullivan was still asleep beside me, his breathing deep and even. I slipped out of bed quietly, pulling on my robe as I headed to the master bathroom. The marble countertop felt cold beneath my fingertips as I began my morning routine. Ten years of marriage had taught me to move silently when Sullivan was sleeping—he valued his rest above almost anything else. As I reached for my toothbrush, my eyes caught something in the wastebasket that made my heart skip a beat. A pregnancy test. Positive. My hands trembled as I reached down and picked it up.

Sophia Mills never wanted to marry Alexander Knight—Manhattan’s most ruthless CEO. But when her sister flees their wedding, leaving Sophia at the altar, she’s forced to take her place. Alexander, furious at the deception, gives her an ultimatum: play the perfect wife or watch everything she loves burn. Trapped in a gilded cage, Sophia endures public humiliation, cold indifference, and Alexander’s mother’s venomous schemes. But when her sister returns, demanding her rightful place, Sophia realizes she’s no longer the timid substitute. She has claws—and a secret that could shatter Alexander’s empire. As passion and revenge collide, Sophia must decide: will she reclaim her freedom, or has she fallen for the man who was never meant to be hers?

The day I turned sixteen, my childhood friend, the one who had promised to claim me as his mate the moment we both came of age, stood before the entire Griffin Pack and declared Jenna Dean as his chosen Luna. Jenna, the pretentious heiress of the Lycan Kingdom, with her golden hair and perfect smile, was everything I wasn’t. And there I stood, in the shadow of her radiance, feeling the weight of my own inadequacy. But then, Axton Griffin, the Alpha of the Griffin Pack—a man revered for his wisdom and strength—stepped forward. His towering frame, muscles rippling beneath his tailored suit, commanded the attention of everyone in the grand hall. He looked at me, his dark eyes filled with something I couldn’t quite place, and confessed his love with a grandeur that left me breathless. For five years, he treated me with a tenderness that felt almost too good to be true. His touch was gentle, his words sweet, and his devotion unwavering. I believed him. I believed in us.

Six years ago, I married this man, with all the love, trust, and loyalty in my heart. I loved him so much; I stayed with him when he had nothing, built with him, and we grew stronger together, hoping that we're going to be parents, soon... Now, he's cheating? Not with any other women out there, but my best friend. After everything we've been through together? That evening, I had walked in on him, half-naked on the bed with my best friend Sherry. But what shocked me the most, I was mocked for being barren. I couldn't bear the betrayal from the two people I cherish the most, so I left everything behind after he proposed to divorce me and marry her and gleaned into the night. Five years, later. I'm a mother of twin babies, have a business of my own, and married his boss at work. Guess who came running to me for forgiveness? My cheating husband! Should I forgive him or push him away?

Isabella Hart thought her Valentine's Day plan was perfect: propose to her boyfriend, celebrate in the Maldives, and finally start the life she'd dreamed of. Instead, she walked into his office and found him kissing his assistant who was also her friend. Heartbreak turned to fury and before she could stop herself, she shoved the engagement ring meant for him onto the finger of a stranger with cold gray eyes. The stranger looked at her, amused, and said, "I do." Moments later, her ex called that stranger Boss. Luciano Moretti, the stranger, was no ordinary man. He was the quiet, ruthless king of New York's underworld, the man people whispered about but never dared to name aloud. What began as a viral mistake became a dangerous entanglement of power, lies, and a love too forbidden to survive the truth.

I was a ghost haunting the halls of Port Sterling High, pretending to be alive. My only goal was to live like a normal teenager, even as the cancer eating me from the inside was a secret I guarded with my life. Then the school's resident psycho, Bishop Dalton, decided I was his to protect. He mistook my chemo-induced weakness for fragility and my nausea for nerves. He fought my battles, took detention for me, and glared at anyone who looked at me wrong, ready to tear the world apart for me. He was trying to save me from the monsters he understood, never guessing the real monster was in my own blood. Then one day, he saw it: the horrific, black-and-purple bruise on my arm from a blown IV. The fury in his eyes was terrifying. He was ready to kill whoever had dared to touch me. He grabbed my wrist, his voice shaking as he demanded a name. "Who did this to you?" I couldn't tell him the truth. The pity would have been a sentence worse than death. So I looked that beautiful, broken boy in the eye and gave him a lie far more cruel. "I did it to myself," I whispered, letting the tears fall. I watched the fire in his soul die out, replaced by a devastating pity. I had saved my secret, but in doing so, I had just become the tragedy he would try to fix.

The break room buzzed with the usual morning chatter, but Meilani Ross's voice cut through it all like a knife through silk. I kept my eyes on my computer screen, fingers poised over the keyboard, but every word she spoke reached me with crystal clarity. "Oh my God, you guys won't believe the restaurant Wells took me to last night," Meilani gushed, her voice pitched just loud enough to carry across the open office space. "The Meridian—you know, that exclusive place downtown where you need reservations months in advance?" I bit back a smile. The Meridian had been fully booked for the past six months. I knew because Margaret had tried to get reservations there for Wells's birthday last month and couldn't. "He was so romantic," Meilani continued, her audience of three colleagues hanging on every fabricated word. "The way he looked at me across the candlelit table... I swear, I thought he was going to propose right there. He kept reaching for my hand, telling me how beautiful I looked in my red dress." Red dress.

The Sunday morning sunshine streamed through the windows of Café Boulud, casting a golden glow across our table. I absently traced the rim of my water glass, trying to focus on what Lauren was saying rather than the anxiety gnawing at me. "So the fifth-month checkup is this Thursday?" Lauren asked, her eyes bright with genuine excitement as she glanced at my growing belly. I nodded, placing a protective hand over the small, firm bump beneath my floral maternity dress. "Yes. Ryan promised he'd be there this time." "This time?" Lauren's perfectly shaped eyebrow arched upward. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. "He's had to miss the last two appointments. Business trips." The words sounded hollow even to my own ears. Ryan's "business trips" had been increasing in frequency lately, each one coinciding suspiciously with important pregnancy milestones.

At twenty-five, Collette Ashford is on the brink of forever wrapped in the arms of the only man who has ever truly known her. Ian Morris is not just her fiancé; he is her childhood confidant, her teenage best friend, her safest place in a restless world. Their love was built quietly, patiently, long before anyone thought it had value. But love is not the future her mother wants for her. When a powerful billionaire resurfaces to claim a favor Collette never realized had a price, her life becomes a battlefield of influence, obligation, and desire. Victor Hale is accustomed to buying what he wants and he wants Collette. With wealth, power, and her mother's approval on his side, he sets out to prove that devotion can be negotiated and hearts can be owned but Collette refuses. Caught between a man who offers everything money can buy and the one who holds her heart without conditions, Collette must decide how much she is willing to sacrifice to protect a love that refuses to be sold. As pressure mounts and loyalties fracture, she discovers that choosing love means standing alone and standing firm. Priceless: A Love Money Couldn't Own is a gripping romantic drama about defiance, devotion, and the quiet courage it takes to choose the one person who has always chosen you. Because some bonds are priceless and some wars are worth fighting.

I had served as the private medical counsel for the Huff family for five years, keeping their scandals buried and their blood pumping. But at the Cipriani gala, standing under a storm of camera flashes, I realized I was just a smudge of ink on their golden canvas. My twenty-year-old niece, Ainsley, looked me up and down with a sneer and pointed at my throat. She demanded I hand over the emerald pendant—the only thing my grandmother left me—because it would "pop" better against the gold gown of her father’s new media darling, Harlow. I turned to Grafton, the man whose neurodegenerative condition I had personally managed in secret, waiting for him to act like a human being. He didn't even blink. He just leaned in and hissed, "Give it to her, Katharina. Don't make a scene. Fix this." After I handed over the necklace and walked out, the retaliation was instant. Within ten minutes, my credit cards were declined, my biometric access was revoked, and the concierge I had tipped for a decade blocked me from entering my own home. Grafton told me I’d be destitute and starving within a week. They all thought I was a family charity case, a leech clinging to the Huff name for prestige. They had no idea that I had spent years quietly securing the intellectual property rights to their most profitable drugs under my maiden name. They didn't know that I was "The Broker," an underground medical legend with a bank account that dwarfed their trust funds. I watched from the shadows as Grafton’s health began to crumble without my specialized injections and their stock price went into a tailspin. They thought they could erase me, but you can't delete the person who holds the structural integrity of your life together. When the panicked calls finally started coming, I didn't answer. I wasn't interested in a settlement or an apology anymore. I was busy using my offshore funds to buy up their crashing shares, ready to take back the empire they thought they had kicked me out of.

Chloe Decker has spent her whole life trying to stay out of trouble especially the kind that rides a motorcycle, wears a leather jacket, and smirks like the world belongs to him. Unfortunately, that trouble has a name: Alfie. They go to the same school, live in the same town, and hate each other with a passion that could burn down the world. He's the arrogant son of the Black Fangs MC President, while she's the quiet girl who wants nothing to do with the club or its reckless members. But when a cruel prank, a dangerous secret, and one unexpected night throw them together, Chloe's world begins to unravel. Alfie isn't just the ruthless biker everyone fears he's also the boy who can't stop looking at her like she's the only thing keeping him alive. Every fight between them feels like a spark. Every touch feels like a threat. And soon, their hate turns into something much darker and much harder to control. In a world filled with roaring engines, loyalty, and betrayal, love was never supposed to happen especially not between enemies. But fate has other plans, and Chloe will soon discover that sometimes, the most dangerous hearts are the ones that were meant for you all along.

My husband, Hudson Higgins, used my dowry to buy his way into the Chicago underworld while his family treated me like a servant in my own home. I endured their insults for the sake of my five-year-old daughter, Josie. But then, the unthinkable happened. I found Josie's small, lifeless body by the garden fountain, while my sister-in-law Karly and mother-in-law Eleanor stood by, complaining about their party plans. "She was just too naughty," Karly sneered, adjusting her pearls over my dead child. When I turned to Hudson for help, he looked at me with dead eyes and told me it was just her fate. In that moment of absolute grief, I remembered the words of the ruthless Don Damien Falcone: "Your husband is a man who knows how to close a deal." The truth sliced through me like a blade. Hudson hadn't just ignored the Don's interest in me; he had actively sold me to the Devil of Chicago to buy his seat at the table. He let his family punish me for the very sin he committed. I had lost everything-my dignity, my mother, and now my baby-all sacrificed for a man who traded his wife's body for power. The sorrow in my chest evaporated, replaced by a scorching, blinding thirst for a blood vendetta. After lunging at Hudson and feeling the world explode into white, I opened my eyes to find myself back in the winter of 1928. It was the exact night the nightmare began, and Don Damien Falcone was walking toward me in his penthouse. This time, I won't be the broken bird in his gilded cage. If Hudson wants to use me to climb the ranks, I will use the Don's dark obsession to burn the Higgins family to the ground.

The heat radiating from Mina’s small body felt less like a fever and more like a warning. It burned against my palm, a dry, searing fire that made the damp chill of our Queens apartment feel even more oppressive. Outside, the October rain lashed against the single-pane window, the sound like gravel being thrown against the glass. Inside, the air was stale, smelling of old radiator dust and my own rising panic. I checked the thermometer again. 103.2°F. The numbers glowed red in the semi-darkness, mocking me. “Mommy,” Mina whimpered, her voice thin and reedy. She thrashed against the tangled sheets, her usually bright eyes glassy and unfocused. “I know, baby.

I was still in my business suit when I found her. My heels clicked against the hardwood floor as I called out, "Rosie, I'm home early!" The house felt too quiet. That should have been my first warning. Then I saw her small body on the living room floor, her favorite cartoon still playing on the TV. Her lips were blue, her limbs jerking in violent spasms. "Rosie!" I dropped my briefcase, the sound echoing through our perfect suburban home as I fell to my knees beside her. "Baby, can you hear me?" Her eyes rolled back, unseeing. My hands trembled as I dialed 911, the operator's calm voice a stark contrast to the hurricane of panic inside me. "My daughter—she's having some kind of seizure. Please hurry!" I performed CPR between sobs, counting compressions while watching her favorite unicorn socks—the ones with glitter threads—twitch with each desperate push of my hands.

My husband's blind grandmother was pushed off a high-rise and is now in critical condition. I tried calling him ten times before he finally picked up. “What do you want now? Yareli is having an emergency, and I won’t be coming home tonight. Stop bugging me.” My heart sank as I told him that Grandma was fighting for her life and asked him to send $50,000 for the surgery. He exploded: “You’re never satisfied, are you? Why should I care about your grandma's condition? If she can’t be saved, then let her die. Leave me alone!” Because I was delayed in raising the money, Grandma died on the operating table. I took the culprit to court, only to see my CEO husband accompany his first love into the courtroom.