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Cassidy Fox woke up in a freezing, luxurious penthouse that wasn't hers. Before she could clear her spinning head, ruthless billionaire Jaret Taylor threw a phone onto the bed. The screen showed an explicit photo of her boyfriend, Burt, tangled in sheets with Jaret's fiancée. Burt had fled the moment things got complicated, leaving Cassidy behind as a scapegoat to face a monster. Jaret demanded an eye for an eye. He trapped her in the room, choked her until she nearly blacked out, and threatened to completely destroy her career if she refused to submit to him. When she still fought back and escaped, Jaret's men captured Burt and lured her to an abandoned warehouse in the middle of a hurricane. Burt was tied to a rusted pillar, beaten and sobbing in terror. He didn't care about what degrading acts Jaret would force her to perform to pay off his debt. "Cassidy, please, just listen to them! We can figure this out, just don't let them hurt me!" Cassidy felt a suffocating wave of despair and injustice. She had risked her life driving through a deadly storm to save the man who had once saved her from drowning, only to realize she was sacrificing herself for a selfish coward who had already betrayed her. Jaret sat at the poker table, looking at her rain-soaked body with a cruel smirk. "Every hand I win, you do exactly what we ask. If you manage to win a hand, we cut off one of Burt's fingers." Looking at the pathetic man begging for his life, Cassidy slowly picked up her cards.

I dragged myself through the front door, my body aching from the day's fifteenth jump. Fifteen thousand jumps. The number echoed in my mind as I dropped my gear bag by the entryway. Five years of marriage, five years of sacrifice, and today marked the milestone I'd been working toward—the day I could finally tell Marcus that his treatment was fully funded. "Marcus?" I called out, my voice hoarse from the wind rushing past my helmet all day. "I'm home." The house felt unusually quiet. Marcus usually wheeled himself to greet me after my shifts, his smile warm with gratitude and love. Today, there was only silence. "I have news," I said louder, heading toward our living room. "Big news." That's when I heard it—soft laughter.

The familiar scent of pine and wildflowers should have welcomed me home. Instead, it felt like walking into a stranger's territory. My boots echoed against the marble floors of the Crescent Creek Pack house as I dragged my duffel bag behind me. Five years. Five years of fighting rogues at the Northern Borders, of nearly dying more times than I could count, of dreaming about this moment. "Carter will be so proud," I whispered to myself, touching my father's ring for courage. The silver band felt cool against my skin, a reminder of the legacy I was meant to uphold. I'd sent no warning of my return. No calls, no messages. I wanted to see his face light up when he saw me—the woman who'd proven herself worthy of being his Luna.

The fever burned through me like wildfire, each wave more intense than the last. My body trembled uncontrollably as I lay on the thin mattress in the servants' quarters—a far cry from the luxurious bed I once shared with Reed. Ten years of suppression had weakened my wolf beyond recognition, but this... this was something else entirely. "Sylvia?" Elena's voice echoed in my mind through our pack link. "Your vitals are dropping. I need to come treat you." "No," I whispered, my teeth chattering. "Reed will punish you if he finds out." "He can punish me all he wants," Elena replied fiercely. "You're dying." I closed my eyes, feeling the mate bond—once vibrant and strong—now fraying like an old rope. Each broken strand sent physical pain radiating through my body.

He is in pain, but so is she. He is her cure, and she is his sweet addiction... Resisting her boss is the hardest thing Caitlyn has ever had to do, especially when she's married to the man she thinks she loves. How can she be so lose and lack self control? She has no idea, all she wants is to be claimed by him, her ruthless billionaire boss. These dangerous, toxic desires will soon graduate into something more sinister and more twisted that she could have ever imagined. How will Caitlyn survive the danger that comes with being the billionaire's obsession? *** "You torment me." "You will be the end of me." My body shudders, awaiting his touch. Waiting is torture, I want him to touch me now. "Claim me, do it now." I whisper. "Well.." he breathes on my skin, "Your wish is my command, kitten."

"Do you like it when I touch you like this?"Professor Derrick's thumb circles her most sensitive spot as his other hand silences her moans. Eliana has never felt pleasure this intense, this forbidden.After a messy breakup, 20-year-old Eliana promised herself no more men just focus on her literature studies. But her gorgeous, older professor has other plans.What starts as extra tutoring sessions quickly becomes stolen moments in his office. Secret touches. Heated glances. Until one night, all her walls come crashing down.Now she's addicted to his touch, even though dating him could destroy everything her scholarship, her future, her heart. But when her jealous ex returns and a vengeful classmate threatens to expose their affair, Eliana must decide:Is the best sex of her life worth risking it all for the one man she's not supposed to have?

She married the devil. Then she divorced him. Now she carries his child. All Isabella Lorenzo wanted was to protect her family, and she thought marrying the ruthless and feared Luca Moretti... heir to the Moretti crime empire would be enough, but she was wrong. Instead of protection, her father was brutally executed and her heart left shattered in a million pieces. Two years later, she has managed to move on from the past and rebuild her life in the shadows. Every feeling of emotion was buried in her past, but they soon reignite after a reckless night with a masked stranger... a stranger that happens to be Luca Moretti. Now she's pregnant, and Luca will do anything to get her back. But forgiveness is not something that exists in her heart anymore... will she be able to fully heal, or will her urge for revenge burn everything down?

She never imagined love would begin with a marriage she didn't want. Forced into a union to save her family, Elena promised herself one thing, she would never love her husband. But the man she hated was nothing like she expected... And the heart she tried to protect slowly betrayed her.

His eyes returned to me-slow, assessing. Then, without warning, his hands shot up and clamped around my throat. I gasped, instinctively clawing at his arms. He didn't move. "Disobey me again," he said, voice low, stripped of warmth, "and we won't be counting next time." Even shaking, I lifted my chin. "Then don't mistake silence for obedience," I said hoarsely. Carlino's voice followed-calm, absolute, as if nothing had happened. "Lock her floor tonight." That was when it settled. There was no mercy here. No exaggeration. Every word, every threat-he meant them. He wasn't pretending to be the devil. He simply didn't bother hiding it. --- She hates him. He refuses to let himself want her. Lina Gray never thought love would betray her. Until the man she trusted, traded her life to pay his debts. Delivered into the hands of Carlino Lacentra, the Mafia king whose name ends conversations. Lina is stripped of choice and crowned Donna to secure a throne she never asked for. In his world, power is law, loyalty is currency, and a woman beside the king is never just a woman.

The house was a living inferno, the heat devouring the air in my lungs as I clutched my five-year-old daughter to my chest. Emily was dead weight, her skin already cooling even as the room turned into a furnace of orange and black. Through the stinging smoke, I saw my husband, Kenney, crawling toward the door with a wet handkerchief pressed to his face. He didn't look back at the crib, and he didn't call my name; he was simply leaving us to burn. I lunged forward and grabbed his ankle, my nightgown catching fire, but he didn't reach down to save me. He recoiled in horror at the sight of my burning hair and our dead child, kicking me back with a panicked shriek. "Let go!" he shrieked. I died as a massive, flaming timber snapped from the ceiling and crushed us both into silence. I couldn't believe that the man I loved would leave his family to die just to save his own skin, but the rage I felt was colder than the death that followed. But then the burning stopped instantly, replaced by a cold so sharp it made my teeth ache. I gasped, jerking upright in my bed to find the velvet duvet cool under my palms and the nursery quiet, with Emily still breathing softly in her crib. I had returned to the winter morning two years before the fire, the exact day Kenney finalized the deal to sell me to the King for a promotion. As Kenney stepped into the room with a practiced mask of concern, I realized I was no longer the victim of this story. "A nightmare, my love?" he asked, reaching out to touch my shoulder. I flinched away, my eyes burning with a hatred he couldn't yet understand. Tonight was the Winter Masquerade, the night he planned to offer me to the King as a prize, but this time, I was going to turn his social ladder into a gallows.

The ballroom glittered with soft golden light as I adjusted the last of the rose gold balloons. Summer's 18th birthday celebration was everything she'd dreamed of—a milestone marking her transition from girl to woman, and I wanted every detail perfect. "Mom, you've outdone yourself," Summer whispered, appearing beside me in her champagne-colored dress. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she surveyed the venue I'd spent weeks transforming into her vision of perfection. I smoothed her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear. "Only the best for my princess." The hotel's grand ballroom had been transformed with crystal chandeliers, elegant floral arrangements, and a custom cake that towered four tiers high. I'd invited over fifty guests—Summer's closest friends, our family, and several colleagues from Richard's law firm. "Where's Dad?" Summer asked, scanning the room. "Probably still at the office." I checked my watch. "But he promised to be here by seven." As if summoned by our conversation, Richard appeared in the doorway, his tall frame impeccable in his charcoal suit.

I jolted awake to the sound that could tear through any mother's heart—Jake's wails, high-pitched and desperate. Throwing off my covers, I rushed to his bedroom, my bare feet cold against the hardwood floors. "Mommy, it hurts," Jake whimpered, his small face flushed with fever. When I pressed my palm to his forehead, heat radiated through my skin. Too hot. Far too hot. "It's okay, baby. Mommy's here," I whispered, trying to keep my voice steady as panic clawed at my chest. The digital thermometer confirmed my fears: 102°F. My five-year-old son needed medication, now.

Seven years. Two thousand, five hundred and fifty-five days since the Moon Goddess tied my soul to his. In any other pack, the seventh anniversary of an Alpha and Luna’s mating ceremony would be a day of feasting, a celebration of the sacred bond that strengthens the entire pack. In the Obsidian Crest Pack, it was just another Tuesday, and I was on my knees, scrubbing dust from the floorboards of a room I wasn’t technically allowed to enter. Alpha Theodore Hamilton didn’t allow maids in his private study. He claimed he didn’t trust their scents mingling with pack business. So, I did it. I, Aria Lawrence, the Luna of this formidable territory, took on the work of a servant just to be close to him. It was pathetic, I knew, but the mate bond was a cruel, demanding thing. It starved for his presence, even if all I ever received was the back of his head or the slam of a door.

I was the wife of a billionaire, but my shoes had holes in them. My hundred-dollar monthly allowance-the price for my family's million-dollar debt-had vanished on necessities. When I asked my husband, Jason, for a new pair, he told me not to bother him with trifles. Minutes later, a notification popped up on my phone. He had just donated fifty million dollars to a museum wing named after his ex-girlfriend. Then came the group chat from his circle of friends. "I heard Florence only gets a $100 allowance," one wife wrote. "My dog eats better than that!" Fifty million for another woman while I was being compared to a pet. The humiliation was a physical blow, and I realized he wasn't just stingy; he was actively trying to break me. But something inside me refused to shatter. I scrolled through my phone until I found the discreet ad I was looking for, a place whispered about by desperate women: "Elysian Fields." This wasn't about shoes anymore. This was about freedom. I pressed the call button.

I stood at the altar, ready to bind my soul to Holden, the man I had loved since we were pups. But the moment his stepsister, Jaidyn, let out a shrill scream, he ripped his hand away from mine. He abandoned me in front of the entire pack, cradling her in his arms and claiming his wolf had chosen her over me. The humiliation didn't end there. When I tried to leave, Holden kidnapped me. He locked a silver collar around my neck, searing my skin and cutting off my connection to the world. He dragged me to a filthy dungeon, ignoring my screams, and began draining my blood to "save" Jaidyn. As my life force faded into the IV bag, I watched Jaidyn smirk behind his back, her "wounds" healing instantly. Holden called me a monster for hurting her, blind to the truth. To him, I was just a weak, latent wolf—a spare blood bag for his mistress. But they made a fatal mistake. They didn't know that the "weakness" inside me was actually a dormant power waiting to explode. And they certainly didn't know that my rejection of Holden had already summoned a new mate. The terrifying Lycan King, Alphons, was coming. And when he arrives, he will burn their world to the ground.

On my wedding day to Julian Moretti, the future Mafia Don, I was deliberately sent to the wrong penthouse. My half-sister Sofia had crawled into my fiancé's bed, leaving me to be discovered by the family's exiled, alcoholic cousin. In my past life, I was shattered by this orchestrated betrayal. I cried and begged when Julian publicly humiliated me, choosing his illegitimate mistress over his rightful bride. I played the perfect, dignified Mafia wife for years. I swallowed his insults, ignored his infidelities, and accepted my ruined reputation to keep the peace. But my blind obedience only paved the way for my murder. Julian discarded me, and I was poisoned to death so Sofia could steal my crown as the Mafia Queen. Until my agonizing last breath, I didn't understand. I had honored our families' blood alliance flawlessly. Why was I the sacrificial lamb while they were rewarded for their treason? Opening my eyes again, I was back on the dark leather sofa, suffocating in my heavy silk wedding dress. This time, I didn't shed a single tear. I grabbed a heavy brass letter opener, marched straight into the Don's main study, and slapped the Underboss across the face in front of the entire family. "A Valdez woman does not share her husband," I declared coldly. "To honor the alliance, I will marry Dante." If they wanted to make my humiliation a fact, I was going to make it a funeral.

Dalton woke up drenched in cold sweat, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. The room was dark, but the date on the nightstand screamed the truth: it was three years ago, the exact night his nightmare began. Beside him, Audriana was thrashing in a drug-induced fever, her body burning as she clawed at her blouse. The memory of her lifeless, broken body from his past life slammed into his skull, and the suffocating realization hit him—he had been given a second chance. But before he could even process the miracle, the bedroom door clicked. Chadwick Kowalski, the man who had ruined Audriana in his past life, was outside with a pack of paparazzi, shoving a cloned keycard into the lock, ready to capture her at her most vulnerable. I watched as the reporters burst in, cameras flashing, desperate to document her destruction. They pointed fingers, screaming that I had forced her, while Chadwick played the heartbroken boyfriend to perfection, his eyes gleaming with greed as he sold her out to a debt-ridden poker ring. How could he be so cruel? How could he trade the woman he claimed to love for a stack of cash? I looked at Audriana, trembling and terrified in my arms, and felt a cold, lethal rage turn my blood to ice. I stepped into the frame, my voice cutting through the chaos like a blade. "Audriana Christensen is my fiancée," I declared, silencing the room instantly. This time, the nightmare ends with me, and I will burn everything to the ground to keep her safe.

At my father’s funeral, my childhood friend Larry drove his SUV straight through my father’s portrait, screaming, “Your father deserved to die!” A week later, I smashed his mother’s urn on the docks and told him, “So did yours.” He stole the money meant to save my mother’s life. I blinded his sister in one eye. For nine long years, we tore into each other, clawing and ripping until nothing was left but exhaustion. In the end, he fled to Northern Myanmar. I stayed behind as the city’s top bounty hunter—codename “Moon Goddess.” … The day of my father’s funeral, Larry roared up in a black SUV like a madman. He plowed through rows of white funeral wreaths, shattered my father’s black-and-white portrait, and finally—amid the screams—slammed hard into the coffin. The heavy casket lurched with a sickening scrape. My mother fainted on the spot. Standing in the wreckage in my black mourning clothes, I watched coldly as the red-eyed boy behind the wheel rolled down his window and gave me a cruel smile. “Ellie,” he spat. “Your father deserved to die.” I didn’t speak. I just stood there, calm, as his bodyguards dragged him out and pinned him to the ground, where he thrashed and roared like a trapped animal. A week later, his mother’s ashes were to be interred. I went to the docks alone. When no one was looking, I snatched the rosewood urn. Under Larry’s furious, wide-eyed stare, I ran to the windiest spot on the pier and hurled it down. *Crash.* Gray-white powder scattered, caught by the sea wind, vanishing instantly into the murky water. I looked straight at him and said, slow and clear, “Larry. So did yours.” That day, he tried to kill me. If his father’s men hadn’t held him back, I’d be fish food at the bottom of the sea. And so began our nine-year war. I’d denied his mother peace in death. In revenge, when my mother lay critically ill and desperate for money, he pulled the rug out from under us—stealing every last cent that could have saved her. I blinded his half-sister in one eye. So he arranged a car accident that put my mother in a wheelchair for life. We were like wild beasts, tearing into each other with the sharpest claws, leaving nothing but ruin and blood behind. Nine years. The war only paused when I was twenty-eight—the year he fled to Southeast Asia. I stayed in Seaport City and became its top shadow operator: the bounty hunter called “Moon Goddess.” On the surface, I ran a little dessert shop named Moonlight. And Larry? Once the golden boy of Seaport City, he remade himself as the most ruthless arms dealer in the gunfire and chaos of Southeast Asia. I thought we’d never see each other again. Until the Seaport City news reported that the infamous Mr. Larry—the man who’d raised hell across Southeast Asia—was coming home in style, fiancée in tow.

At eighteen, I was coaxed by Chuck into tasting intimacy for the first time. Blinded by what I thought was love, I even let him convince me to tattoo his name onto my shoulder blades. Then came the day I stood on the university auditorium stage at the Music Conservatory, holding my acceptance letter, delivering my freshman welcome speech. That was the moment Chuck chose to release a private video of us to the world. My parents disowned me. The university expelled me immediately. Every friend turned their back. Overnight, I went from being a rising star to a public target for men's advances. Later, I discovered the truth: Chuck's affection was merely revenge for his childhood sweetheart. His kindness was a weapon aimed at me. Six years later, our paths crossed again. The flutter in my chest for him was long dead. Yet there he was, kneeling in a crowded public space, his pleas echoing over and over. “Beth, please... forgive me?”

The morning light filtered through the stained glass windows of the preparation room, casting rainbow patterns across the floor. Today was supposed to be the most important day of my life—my Mate Ceremony with Lucas, the Alpha of Shadow Claw Pack. I smoothed down my ceremonial dress, feeling the delicate fabric beneath my fingertips. Everything had to be perfect. "Kamryn spent months on this," I whispered to myself, thinking of my best friend who had hand-stitched my ceremonial cloak with rare silver thread. The cloak wasn't just fabric—it was a symbol of our bond, of my position as Luna, of the future I had built here. I pushed open the door to the preparation room, my heart light with anticipation. The smile froze on my face. "Oh no," I breathed, my eyes fixed on the floor. My ceremonial cloak lay in tatters, the silver threads glinting mockingly in the light.

Xavier Ford, the Alpha of his pack, had fallen for a young she-wolf barely out of her teenage years. He pressured Thea Gonzales, his once-Luna and mother of their pup Celine, into severing their mate bond. "Thea, she’s not interested in my status or power. She just wants to be recognized as my mate, and I owe her that." Thea and Xavier had been together since their teenage years, standing side by side through the pack’s darkest days. She had been his rock when the pack was weak, their resources scarce, and their future uncertain. But now, as his pack thrived and his influence grew, he found himself drawn to the youthful energy of someone younger—someone who didn’t carry the weight of his past struggles. He claimed that Thea’s presence reminded him of the hardships they had endured together, a part of his life he wanted to leave behind. In contrast, the young she-wolf admired him with wide-eyed innocence, sparking a sense of excitement and renewal that he couldn’t resist. Eventually, he got what he wanted and severed their mate bond, but it wasn’t long before regret began to creep in. *** The day Thea and Xavier finalized their separation at the pack’s council hall was the first time she met Addilyn Freeman.

A legacy. A secret. A year. ​Elena Hayes never asked to inherit a fortune, but a twist of fate has her fighting for a birthright she never wanted. To claim her legacy, she must endure one year on the remote island of Erténa, a fortress ruled by Lucas Vance. ​Lucas, the ruthless CEO haunted by his past, is a king on his throne and a ghost in his own life. He sees Elena as a painful reminder of a betrayal that shattered his family, and he'll stop at nothing to break her fiery spirit. ​Trapped together, their professional rivalry ignites a dangerous, undeniable attraction. Every clash brings them closer, every heated word a spark. As a storm brews on the horizon, they must face a truth that could change everything: can a woman fighting for her future and a man haunted by his past survive this beautiful, brutal war without losing themselves?

I was the wife of a tech mogul I' d built from nothing. I even hired his new assistant, a woman who looked just like his dead mother, thinking I was giving him a piece of his past back. Then I discovered the truth. He wasn't just sleeping with her-she was pregnant with his son. And for months, the prenatal vitamins he lovingly gave me every morning were nothing but sugar pills. The shock of their betrayal caused me to miscarry our first child. They painted me as a crazy, violent heiress, took my family's company, and left me with nothing but the ashes of the life he'd promised me. But as I stood in our home, ready to burn it all down with me inside, I discovered a miracle: I was pregnant again. I faked my death and disappeared. Five years later, he walked into the quiet inn I now own with his family. And his eyes landed on my daughter.

I stood on the tarmac clutching white magnolias, watching the man I loved hand his loyalty to the woman born to destroy me. Dante Cavallaro, the Ruthless Underboss, didn't just leave me for Sofia Moretti. He revealed that for two years, I wasn't his lover. I was a human shield. The heavy iron bangle he forced me to wear wasn't a gift for my protection. "It's a Malocchio anchor," he sneered as I lay paralyzed on the floor. "It drains the wearer's luck to keep Sofia healthy. You are just the filter." My body began to rot from the inside out, my nerves dying one by one. When I was finally on my deathbed, unable to move or speak, Dante didn't cry for me. He cried because his tool was broken. He forced the cursed bangle onto his own wrist, begging the universe to keep me alive so I could continue to suffer in Sofia's place. "Please," he sobbed into my sheets. "Don't leave me alone with the bad luck." I used my last breath to make a wish—not for him, but for my freedom. I closed my eyes and died. Exactly one hour later, Dante's phone rang. It was his father. "Sofia just collapsed," he said. "Her heart just stopped." I was the vessel. And now that I was gone, the poison had come home to the King.