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For three years, my husband Hudson convinced everyone I was crazy. My parents. Our friends. Even my own therapist. He said my suspicions were just anxiety. PTSD from our miscarriage. That I needed my medication and a good night's sleep. But a pink butterfly hair clip in his car told a different story. It wasn't mine. And we don't have children. When I confronted him, he sighed with practiced patience—the same sigh he'd perfected over three years of making me doubt my own mind. "It belongs to a client's daughter," he said, reaching for my pills. "Your anxiety is flaring up again." I almost believed him. I always almost believed him. But this time, I didn't back down. I invited his mistress and their three-year-old son to our family dinner. With the DNA test results in my purse, I was ready to burn his perfect world to the ground. He thought he could gaslight me forever. He was wrong.

Blurb: I never intended to entice him. I simply wanted to murder him. Playing nice is not an option if your target is Adrian Devereaux, the cold, ruthless millionaire who shattered your life. Armed with secrets, falsehoods, and one purpose—revenge, I landed in New York under a fictitious name. He wrecked my family. Now, I'll enter his world, acquire his trust, and destroy him from the inside out. But I didn't anticipate his touch to fire my body. I didn't anticipate his focus to appear like deliverance. And I absolutely didn't anticipate falling for a guy who may be more of a monster than I am. Every gaze is a war. Every kiss is a deceit. Every touch is a devil's deal. He wants power. I want payback. But when the reality of my background comes to light, I discover Adrian is not the only opponent I should hate. The man who launched it all is still observing. And he is approaching both of us. May I kill the guy I love? Will our perverted passion devour us both to the ground instead?

The penthouse smells like disinfectant and something sour I can't quite place. I've scrubbed every surface twice today, but the scent clings to the air like a ghost. Carson sits in his leather armchair by the window, staring at the Manhattan skyline with that vacant expression I've memorized over seven years. The late afternoon sun cuts across his face, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw. He's only thirty-two, but sometimes I catch myself searching for gray in his dark hair, some physical proof of the disease eating away at his mind. "Carson?" I set the dinner tray on the side table. Roasted chicken, mashed potatoes—soft foods he can manage without choking. "It's time to eat." He doesn't turn. His fingers drum against the armrest in a rhythm that might be random or might be something he's forgotten he once knew. I kneel beside the chair, my knees protesting.

The carriage wheels crunched over the gravel path as we approached the capital after three long years. Dust clung to the windows, a reminder of the harsh frontier lands I'd left behind. My fingers traced the scar running down my forearm—a souvenir from the battle of Blackwater Ridge. Three years of bloodshed, of commanding troops against enemies who'd threatened our kingdom's borders. Three years away from home... away from Dominic. "General Scott," my aide called from outside, "we've arrived at the city gates." I straightened my uniform, adjusting the row of medals pinned to my chest. Each one represented a victory, a life saved, a battle won. But none of that mattered now. All that mattered was seeing Dominic again.

I spent five years laundering Ethan Cole’s dirty money through my architectural designs, believing his lies that I was the love of his life, not just his mistress. But the moment he secured a marriage alliance with the Vances, I became a liability. I tried to resign quietly, but his new fiancée, Isabella, wanted sport. She didn't just fire me; she destroyed me. At a high-society gala, she projected my private, intimate photos onto the big screen while the city's elite laughed. I looked at Ethan, begging him to stop it. He didn't flinch. He just sipped his scotch and watched me get dragged out by security. It got worse. Desperate for my severance pay to leave town, I met Ethan one last time. He didn't give me a check. Instead, he locked me in a library with a corrupt official, telling me I had to "service" the man to secure a zoning permit. He had literally sold me for a signature. I escaped into the pouring rain with nothing but the clothes on my back, realizing the man I loved was a monster who viewed me as disposable property. I was shivering in an alley, waiting to die, when a black SUV pulled up. The window rolled down to reveal Noah Miller—the most dangerous Don in the city and Ethan’s mortal enemy. He didn't look at me with lust or pity. He looked at me with cold fury. "Get in," Noah said, unlocking the door. "Let's go remind them why you don't throw away a diamond."

The typhoon hurled Mariah through the window, leaving her with multiple fractures. Drifting in and out of consciousness, she overheard her husband Joseph speaking with his friend, a military doctor. Every word came through with cruel clarity: “Compound fracture in the right leg, a puncture wound to the shoulder, and all ten fingernails torn clean off… Joseph, your wife’s injuries are severe. You were right there in the dormitory—why didn’t you go to her?” “I had to retrieve Piper’s photograph first. It’s the only picture I have with her. I couldn’t let it be lost.” The doctor sighed. “You really do care for Piper that much. Think back—when the Mariah family’s two sisters had only one provincial job assignment between them, if Mariah had kept her city broadcasting position, Piper would have been sent to a provincial theater troupe. You married Mariah just to secure Piper’s placement in the provincial capital, then you maneuvered your wife out to this remote island. Does Piper even know what you’ve sacrificed for her?” “She doesn’t need to know. I only want to protect her, quietly.” The truth struck without warning. All her confusion and helplessness suddenly made sense. Mariah’s eyelashes fluttered. Bile burned her throat. The two men in the ward noticed nothing. Today was Joseph’s birthday. She had taken half a day off, hurrying back to their dorm to bake for him. Joseph was a soldier. After their marriage, Mariah had given up her position as a provincial broadcaster to follow him to this island in the South Sea. A full year of marriage, yet a distance always lingered between them. Beyond their occasional physical encounters, she and Joseph remained practically strangers. Mariah had felt wronged, but everyone—her parents, Joseph’s comrades—insisted he was simply reserved by nature, a cold man. She had believed them. She had resolved to melt that ice with her own warmth. So even after the weather station warned of the approaching typhoon, she had braved the rain to return. All because Joseph loved her homemade pound cake. But the typhoon intensified without warning. The wind snatched her through the window, and she caught on a tree branch ten feet above the ground. “Help! Is anyone there?” Her fingers clawed into the bark until her nails bled. That was when she saw Joseph running toward the dorm through the lashing storm. “Joseph! I’m here! Help me!” Joseph stopped and looked in her direction. A flicker of hope ignited in Mariah’s eyes. “Joseph…” But he only gave her a cold glance before rushing into the dorm building without a second thought. Mariah watched her husband vanish inside, then saw him appear in their room, frantically searching for something. She cried out again. “Joseph! Help me!” Joseph frowned impatiently and snapped toward the window, “Shut up! Stop making noise—hanging there a little longer won’t kill you!” Mariah stared, unable to believe what she had heard. Inside, Joseph ignored her distress. He kicked aside fallen furniture and pulled a photograph from a bedroom drawer. Tenderly, he tucked it into his chest pocket as if it were a priceless treasure. A soft *crack*. One of her fingernails snapped. The pain shot straight to her heart, nearly blinding her. Her grip failed, and she fell from the ten-foot branch. A sickening *crunch*. Something pierced her shoulder. The air smelled of blood. Mariah lay sprawled in the mud like a broken doll. By the time rescue arrived, Mariah kept her eyes closed, feigning unconsciousness. But her mind was painfully clear. She knew it wasn’t Joseph who had saved her—it was the search and rescue team. Now, lying in the hospital bed, she pressed her lips together tightly, her whole body trembling. So, in your heart… I am worth less than a single photograph of Piper… The two men in the ward still noticed nothing. “Joseph, Mariah treats you well. Are you starting to feel something for her?” The doctor’s question made Mariah hold her breath. A fragile hope stirred. But Joseph’s next words plunged her into an icy abyss. “…Don’t talk nonsense. What I feel for her is merely obligation.” “I married her, so I’ll take responsibility. But my heart will always belong to Piper.” The sentence was pronounced. Mariah could no longer lie to herself. It had all been a lie. He had never loved her. Mariah remembered what the commander had said a few days earlier: the South Sea No. 37 Lighthouse needed a new keeper. She clenched her fists. Perhaps it was time to leave. To go somewhere Joseph would never find her.

One touch, and I was lost."' His voice was a whisper against my ear, his breath hot on my neck. "He cannot touch you the way I do, Bella. He does not know your body like I do. You are mine. Every inch of you, every hidden place, every moan you make. And nothing, not even your mother, will keep me from owning this pussy." His words burn against my skin, like a promise and a threat at the same time. "You're mine. And I don't share." ******* Isabella Moretti made one mistake. One night that should have stayed buried. One moment with the man she was never supposed to want; her stepfather, Damian Blackwell. She runs to New York. A fresh start. A shot at her journalism career and a life where she can forget the way his hands felt on her body. But Damian doesn't believe in letting go. Not when it's what he wants. When her mother announces Isabella's engagement to her friend's son and asks her to come home to meet her new husband, she thinks maybe she's finally escaped. Until she sees her stepfather-to-be's face. It's him. Damian Blackwell Damian isn't just the man whose body she wants; he's hiding something dark enough that could actually launch her career into the world. Or destroy everything she's ever loved. Now Isabella's trapped between impossible choices: Her mother's approval, love and a "perfect" future The man who owns every forbidden part of her soul But some fires don't just burn.They consume everything. A dark stepfather romance where the lines between ambition and desire blur beyond recognition.

[{EXCERPT}] "Are you trying to seduce me?" Alana froze. Roman's gaze dragged slowly over her body, dark and deliberate. "The contract explicitly states that you are not allowed to seduce me," he said calmly. "You did read it... didn't you?" Confusion flickered across her face. Then his eyes dropped again. "You do realize," he added, voice lowering, "that you're half naked right now?" Alana's breath caught as she looked down at herself. ....... After escaping the suffocating grip of her abusive family, Alana believes she's finally free. But freedom comes at a price. Roman Ashford is everything she should avoid. A cunning billionaire. New York's most eligible bachelor. A man whose name alone unsettles the entire business world. One unexpected encounter pulls her into his orbit, binding her to him in a dangerous arrangement as his fake girlfriend for thirty-one days. But just as she begins to find her footing, her past comes back to choke her. To secure the inheritance her late father left behind before her mother claims it, Alana has only one option. She needs a husband, and fast. With time running out, she makes a reckless decision and turns to the one man she should never trust. Will Roman accept her proposal... or will stepping into his world be her utter ruin?

Elara Vale never imagined her life could be stolen and yet, here she is, trapped in a world controlled entirely by Rowan Ashcroft. The man is ruthless, calculating, and impossibly powerful, yet beneath his cold exterior lies an obsession she can’t ignore. Taken under the guise of protection, Elara is forced to navigate a life she didn’t choose, obey rules she didn’t agree to, and survive threats she never anticipated. Every day, Rowan tests her limits: her intelligence, her loyalty, and her very will. He doesn’t just demand obedience he demands her focus, her skill, and her trust. But survival is more complicated than she expected. The line between fear and fascination blurs. Every encounter with Rowan leaves her questioning what she feels, what she wants, and what she’s willing to sacrifice to stay alive. She hates the way his presence makes her pulse quicken and despises the way she starts to rely on him not just for safety, but for guidance, for understanding, for control. As Elara adapts to the impossible life she’s been forced into, danger closes in from outside forces. Competitors, enemies, and shadowed threats all move toward her, and only Rowan can shield her. And yet, the more he protects her, the more she realizes that survival comes at a cost one she may not be able to pay without giving herself completely to the man who owns her. The Shape of His Control is an intense dark romance about power, obsession, and the thin line between captivity and desire. It explores what happens when survival forces intimacy, and love is no longer a choice but a consequence.

I watched Carson's hands move through my hair with surprising dexterity, his fingers weaving and twisting with practiced precision. The bathroom mirror reflected his concentrated expression as he worked, curling iron in hand, steam rising between us. "Hold still, sweetheart," he murmured, gently turning my head. "This is going to look amazing." It was Valentine's Day, and this impromptu styling session was supposedly my husband's romantic gesture. But something felt off. The way his wrist flicked as he wrapped a strand around the iron, the confident angle at which he held the tool—these weren't the awkward movements of a man attempting something new. "Where did you learn to do this?" I asked, trying to keep my voice light. He chuckled. "Just watched some videos. Wanted to surprise you." As the final curl fell into place, my breath caught.

I wake to the weight of Sterling's hand in my hair. Not pulling. Never pulling. Just... there. Fingers threading through the strands with mechanical precision, the way you'd groom a show dog. The morning light filters through floor-to-ceiling windows, turning our bedroom into a fishbowl of gold and glass. Thirty stories above Manhattan, and I can't breathe. "Happy birthday to our little prince," Sterling murmurs against my temple. His cologne—something obscenely expensive that smells like cedar and control—fills my lungs.

I was born an omega. Weak. Disposable. Forgotten. But on my eighteenth birthday, the impossible happened— I didn’t just find one mate. I found three. The Alpha’s heirs. Kael, the cold-blooded heir who claims me like a trophy. Riven, the reckless rebel who kisses me like a dare. Silas, the sweet one… with a smile that hides something darker. The pack calls it a curse. The Moon Goddess calls it fate. And then she whispers a warning in my dreams: One of them will kill me. Now every touch burns, every kiss could be my last, and every choice drags me closer to a prophecy I can’t escape. Two of them are mine. One of them is a lie. But how do you choose between three bonds when rejecting even one could destroy you? All I know is this: The wrong choice doesn’t just break my heart— It ends my life.

For seven years, I was Grant Charles’s shadow—his top executive assistant by day and the woman in his bed by night. I managed his billion-dollar empire and handled his every crisis, believing our bond was the one thing his money couldn't buy. Everything shattered when I walked into his penthouse and found Aimee Austin sitting on his lap, wearing nothing but his favorite white dress shirt. Grant didn't even look guilty; he just stared at me with cold, arrogant eyes and told me I was dripping rain on his expensive Persian rug. When I tried to resign, he showed me exactly how cruel he could be. He knew I had drained my life savings to pay for my mother’s specialized care for her dementia. "Without my salary and the foundation subsidy, she’ll be on the street in a month," he whispered, his voice dripping with malice. "Is your pride really worth her life?" He didn't stop there. He tried to break my spirit by publicly humiliating me at a high-end restaurant, orchestrating a "setup" to show me that without his protection, I was nothing more than a common servant. He wanted me to realize that without him, I was a nobody with no future. I couldn't believe the man I had protected for nearly a decade was weaponizing my dying mother to keep me as his subordinate. He thought he owned every inch of me, and he was waiting for me to come crawling back on my knees to beg for my old life. But Grant made one fatal mistake: he assumed I was a charity case. He had no idea I was the secret heir to the billion-dollar Klein Trust, currently frozen behind a single marriage clause. I didn't need his money; I just needed a husband. Instead of begging for my job, I walked straight into the office of the only man Grant feared—the ruthless litigator Julian Vance. I threw a marriage contract on his desk and gave him an offer he couldn't refuse. It was time to stop being a shadow and start a war.

My family went bankrupt overnight, leaving me to face a mountain of predatory debt. Instead of standing by my side, my billionaire fiancé's mother threw a five-million-dollar check on the marble table, demanding I take the money and disappear from her son's life forever. Meanwhile, my former social circle mocked my downfall. They secretly took photos of me meeting with ruthless loan sharks, waiting for me to come crawling back to beg for charity. I didn't give them the satisfaction. I legally took on my father's massive debt, threw the check back, and ruthlessly dumped my fiancé. To stop my heartbroken mother from worrying, I lied and told her I had already found a new, reliable boyfriend. But the lie was a ticking time bomb. My malicious rival even forced her way into my cramped apartment, demanding to meet this mysterious man, laughing that he must live in a dumpster. I was suffocating under the pressure. I had nothing, and I had no idea how I was supposed to magically produce a husband to get these toxic people off my back. Until a dying stranger I helped in the park made a final wish. His grandson—my cold, aloof high school upperclassman, Caleb Barnes—handed me a watertight prenuptial agreement at the hospital. "Marry me," Caleb said flatly. "I get to give my grandfather peace. You get a shield against your family." I picked up the pen and signed my name.

One year ago, Ashley—my pilot boyfriend’s idealized ex—threw a tantrum mid-flight. She slammed her high heel into the cabin window, triggering a catastrophic decompression. As a flight attendant, I fought with everything I had to plug the breach, saving over a hundred lives. Afterwards, I insisted we call the police. Ashley was sentenced to nine years in prison. At the time, Louis held me and said he understood my choice, that he loved me. But later, on our honeymoon, Louis himself piloted the flight to Paradise Island. When the cabin depressurization alarm blared and passengers screamed, scrambling for oxygen masks, I rushed to the cockpit and saw a sight I would never forget. Louis was manually overriding the cabin pressure controls, his face utterly calm. “What are you doing?” His voice came through the intercom, each word a knife: “Stephanie, you sent Ashley to prison, ruined nine years of her life. I’m just making you pay with yours.” “Now we’re even.” When I opened my eyes again, everything had reset. This time, I was done playing the hero. Let’s see how they handle their own mess.

Elena Hart a Talented Fashion designer thought she had it all. A dream up and an upcoming wedding with the love of her life. Until she returned home early one night and found him in bed with his secretary. Betrayed and homeless, Elena walked away from everything. At her lowest point, she crosses part with Adrian Wolfe a man she once saved in France. At first she had assumed she was a stripper and their Re-encounter was awkward. But when her new job turns to to be at Wolfe international, the city’s most powerful fashion Enpire. Elena realizes the man she mistook as stripper, the CEO and her New boss. Adrian doesn’t just want her at work, he also offers her a fake engagement contract. No Amount of money could have made Elena get into any form of relationship with any man. However, in other to ruin her Ex fiancé Clifford, she needed a strong back and since Adrian was offering to help why not play pretend fiancée? It was supposed to be that easy until everything began to go south.

She bit her lower lip, nervous. “You're a dangerous man. I have seen you kill without a thought. What’s to make me believe it won’t be my head falling to the ground one day?” He stared at her for long, quiet seconds before he said slowly, “There are far more dangerous things I want to do to you and with your body. Death by my hand should be the least of your worries." ***** Candice is a metropolitan real estate agent, whose world revolves around closing deals and raking in commissions. But everything changed when a mysterious billionaire set her up on a blind date, thrusting her into a world beyond her wildest imagination. Suddenly, she finds herself at the center of a supernatural storm, with creatures from the shadows seeking to exploit her connection to Wayne Wyatt, the powerful and enigmatic werewolf monarch. Forced into a role she didn't fully understand, she agrees to play her role as Luna– but only for a price. However, taming the proud and infuriating King would require her to navigate a delicate balance of power and seduction, testing her wits and will against his unyielding dominance. She finds herself in a bind, trying to resist this gorgeous, prideful king or succumb to the primal attraction that threatens to consume them both.

The scent of antiseptic and herbs filled the air as I guided my mother's wheelchair into Lilith's treatment room. Hope fluttered in my chest—maybe this new healer could ease the chronic pain that had plagued my mother since the accident that left her paralyzed. "Thank you for coming," Lilith said, her voice dripping with false sweetness as she gestured toward the examination table. "I've been studying your mother's case. I believe my traditional methods might help where others have failed." My mother smiled weakly, her once-vibrant face now hollow with pain. "Anything that might help, dear. The pack doctor said there's little they can do." "I need to fetch some water," Lilith said, turning to me. "Would you mind? It's just down the hall." "Of course," I replied, squeezing my mother's hand before leaving them alone. The hallway seemed longer than usual.

Marco Falcone is the new boss of the Camorra mafia, raised his entire life to take this position, with his training beginning early. He endured the worst atrocities and committed many monstrosities, earning the reputation as the Demon of the Camorra. When a union agreement with the Cosa Nostra is rejected, and they decide to give the Don's daughter in marriage to a rival mafia, Marco makes a decision. Angela Mancini never had the life she dreamed of; she was shaped and taught how to behave, how to be the perfect mafia wife. She knew it was only a matter of time before her father pushed her into an arranged marriage. But she never imagined she would be kidnapped on her big day by the Camorra boss himself, the most feared and ruthless man in the mafia. He didn't expect the innocent and virginal princess to drive him wild with attraction. Meanwhile, she is willing to do anything to avoid being destroyed by his monstrous nature. But how could they escape their own hearts?

I was the unshifted fiancée of the Alpha, working eighteen-hour days to design his kingdom while waiting for my wolf to finally wake up. He told me we couldn't be intimate until I shifted, claiming it was to "conserve my energy." I believed him, right up until I saw the email notification on his open laptop. It was an invitation to the baptism of his two-year-old son. The mother was Hayden, the "fragile" Omega he claimed was just like a sister to him. He wasn't waiting for me to shift. He was waiting for me to finish his fortifications so he could replace me. When I tried to freeze the construction funds, he sabotaged my climbing gear, hoping a "tragic accident" would silence me forever. When I survived, he froze my bank accounts and humiliated me at the pack auction, using the money I had saved to buy a diamond necklace for his mistress. They thought I was powerless without a wolf. They thought they could broadcast intimate videos of me to shame me into submission. But they forgot that as the architect, I built the very security systems they felt safe behind. I walked into the ceremony not as a victim, but with the rival Alpha by my side and a decrypted USB drive in my hand. "You want to talk about secrets?" I smiled at the terrifying silence of the hall. "Let's show the pack who the real father of your 'heir' is."

He told me his Inner Wolf was dormant. He claimed he couldn't feel the Mate Bond, that divine connection the Moon Goddess gifts to us. I believed him. For years, I waited in the shadows, protecting his secret, convinced my Alpha was just broken. But the truth revealed itself in the middle of a fire. During a rogue ambush, an explosion threw me into a ditch. My ankle was crushed in a hidden poacher’s trap, the silver teeth searing my flesh like acid. I screamed for him. Ethan sprinted through the smoke. He stopped, looking down at me. He saw the trap. He saw the blood. He saw the silver burning me alive. Then he looked at Chloe. She was sitting on the grass nearby, clutching a tiny, insignificant scratch on her forehead, wailing like a child. He didn't hesitate. Not for a heartbeat. He turned his back on me. He scooped Chloe up in his arms, cradling her like she was made of precious glass, and ran to safety. As the flames licked closer to my trapped leg, his voice cut through the Mind-Link, cold as a winter grave. "You are too weak, Ava. You don't deserve to be my Luna." He wasn't dormant. He never was. He just didn't want me. I didn't die in that fire. I dragged myself out, leaving my love in the ashes. The next morning, I limped into the Pack Hall. My leg was a ruin, but my mind was clear. Ethan sat on his throne, Chloe smirking on his lap. He looked at me with annoyance, expecting me to beg. Instead, I stood tall, letting my own wolf rise. "I, Ava Miller, reject you, Ethan Reed, as my mate."

For five years, I poured my soul into my career and my secret lover, my boss Hudson. But for the fifth time, he gave the promotion I bled for to my incompetent rival, Kaitlyn. My world shattered when I overheard him callously admitting our entire relationship was just a "cost-effective strategy" to keep me motivated without the director's salary. The humiliation didn't end there. He physically forced me into a deeper bow before Kaitlyn, re-injuring my back. When I finally quit, his revenge was swift: an assignment to a notoriously dangerous remote site. That night, I was brutally attacked. My desperate emergency call to Hudson went straight to voicemail. A notification later revealed why: he was on stage at a company party, singing a love duet with Kaitlyn while I was fighting for my life. The man I loved had left me to die. After I cut all ties and finally started to heal, he showed up at my parents' door, begging for forgiveness. This time, I wouldn't just walk away. I would make him face every lie he ever told.

Blurb: “Say my name while I’m inside you,” Jordan growled against her ear. Joanna shook her head. “Jordan… this is wrong.” His hand pressed harder at her waist. “Then why are you shaking like this?” Her chest burned, her lips trembled. She hated him. She wanted him. Both at once. His mouth crushed hers, teeth biting, tongue rough. Sheets tangled around her legs. Heat everywhere. It felt like falling and burning, all in one. She tried to pull away, but her body betrayed her, pulling him closer. It was a mistake. One night. A night that changed everything. ************************************************************************************************************** Joanna Rivers never wanted to be tangled in the Kings family war. A reckless night with Jordan Kings, the cold and commanding CEO, leaves her carrying his child. When he discovers the truth, he demands control, but his younger brother, Josiah, sees her differently. Where Jordan offers dominance, Josiah offers love. But life with the Kings is never simple. Jordan’s ex-wife comes back. Family lies rise to the surface. Old secrets break open like fire. Joanna is trapped between duty and desire. Between blood and love. In the end, only one King can have her heart. But what if she chooses the wrong one?

She caught her husband in bed with her best friend—the same girl she once went to juvie protecting. After prison, public humiliation, and losing everything, Sienna Cole rebuilt herself from ashes in a crumbling Chicago walkup. Five years later, she's married to the man every woman in America wants. When her ex and his wife ambush her doorstep with cheap skincare and cheaper apologies, Sienna agrees to dinner—because the best revenge isn't loud. It's the moment your ex-husband sees your new husband's face on a fifty-foot billboard and realizes he downgraded. But Derek Vaughn isn't done. And the secret Paige is hiding could burn them all.