Explore All Web Novel Categories

Racheal has lived a very simple and straightforward life: work, home, and quiet evenings with her best friend. That is, until the new neighbor moves in. She shouldn't care about Adrian Cole, but he is everything she is: arrogant, distant, and seemingly infuriating beyond reason. However, behind his chilly facade is a life she could never have guessed, and a heart he is trying very hard to protect. When tension softens into attraction, foes become something more and love makes them decide between safety and desire. Will their worlds, which are so different, collideor find a way to coexist?

In the fog-laden town of Silverbrook, journalist Elara Voss uncovers a family secret that awakens her dormant werewolf heritage. As she grapples with uncontrollable transformations and a forbidden romance with a rogue wolf hunter, Elara must confront a ruthless pack leader intent on claiming her power. With each full moon, the line between predator and prey blurs, forcing her to choose between her human life and the wild call of the beast within.

Fiona stayed awake for three straight nights restoring an antique watch to surprise her fiancé, Kevon, for his birthday. But standing outside his VIP club room, she froze when she heard his voice bleeding through the cracked door. "Marriage to her is just a PR stunt. The Baxter family needs a clean, obedient poster girl for the board. That's it." He openly mocked her to his friends, claiming she willingly handed over her jewelry design patents as the price of admission to marry into his wealthy family. Worse, he confessed his true love for his personal assistant, Kayla. He completely twisted the truth of a past mugging, painting his mistress as a hero and Fiona as a jealous coward. For three years, he had used Fiona's brilliance to build his company's new line, while secretly taking Kayla to hotels and parading her in Fiona's stolen designs. Three months of bleeding fingers for his custom gift. Dozens of cancelled dinners. It was all a pathetic joke. Her loyalty and her life's work were nothing but stepping stones for an arrogant heir who thought his money could buy her dignity. The crushing grief in her chest instantly evaporated, replaced by a sheet of absolute ice. She dropped the velvet gift box into an antique vase and kicked the heavy mahogany doors wide open. It was time to strip his company of every single patent she secretly owned and burn his pathetic life to the ground.

Justine abandoned her career as a top trauma surgeon to marry Congressman Carl McConnell. She did it to fulfill her dying sister's last wish: to protect her son, Leo, from this ruthless political family. But the seven-year-old boy she swore to protect shoved her into a freezing koi pond, then cried to his father that Justine tried to drown him. Carl didn't even check the security cameras. He hugged his precious heir and looked at his freezing wife with pure disgust. "Are you out of your mind? Trying to hurt the heir to the McConnell family!" He locked Justine in a 55-degree wine cellar while she was burning with a 102-degree fever. When she finally told him the truth, Carl flew into a rage and hurled a heavy brass-cornered book at her face, slicing her cheekbone wide open. His mother even ordered the staff to starve her for seven days to reflect on her sins. Justine stood in the dark, blood dripping down her face, her heart completely dead. She had sacrificed her brilliant future and her pride for this family, only to be tortured and discarded like garbage. How could they be so utterly devoid of humanity? She pulled out her old medical kit and stitched up her own face. Then, she signed the legal documents to permanently relinquish her stepparent rights, threw them at the housekeeper, and calmly looked at her abusive husband. "I am divorcing you, Carl."

A beer bottle to the head wakes Kira Thorne up from her pathetic past life, where she died paying off her fiancé’s gambling debts. Seeing Julian Mercer fake amnesia on the bar floor, Kira refuses to be his victim again. She throws away his cheap ring and adopts the silent, scarred mechanic, Dante Russo, to help run her late father’s auto shop. She thought Dante was just a brooding stray, until he tears apart Julian's hired thugs with a bloody wrench. Dante hides a lethal secret—he is the underworld’s most feared hitman. As Julian plots to sell Kira to the mafia with Chloe Ashford's help, Dante locks Kira in his bloody embrace, ready to burn the entire city to ashes just to keep her safe.

The giant screens of Bradley's Group illuminated Ashford daily, flashing the same stark advertisement: "Wife Rental." Just yesterday, the wife of the Bradley family—the woman with the peculiar scale on her temple—had been auctioned off for a million dollars to serve as a drinking proxy. She earned one coin for every glass she finished. For Bradley, this was the only way to torment Stella, the sole balm for the bitter resentment festering in his heart. But he didn’t know. Stella was actually the reincarnation of a wealth-attracting golden koi. Every twisted form of torment he devised for her ultimately transformed into staggering fortune for the Bradley family. Now, fifty glasses of strong liquor stood stacked like a small mountain. Her eyes red, she looked at Bradley and pleaded softly, "Bradley, I’ve... my period just started. Could I—" A cold, mocking smile touched the corner of his mouth. "Drink." Stella closed her eyes in despair. Fifty glasses of fire, one after another, burned down her throat and scorched her insides until they felt like raw, bleeding holes. A hot rush surged between her legs, staining her white dress a vivid crimson. Finally, her phone chimed with the robotic female voice: "Fifty dollars received." Clutching her aching abdomen, she struggled to her feet. The spectacle of her stained dress drew a wave of mocking laughter. "Bradley, how did you train such an obedient little lapdog?" "Wasn't she the one you used to cherish? You almost gave your life to save her once. When did the tables turn so completely?" A single, arrogant lift of Bradley's eyebrow sent a ripple of squeals through the crowd of watching girls. He slowly exhaled a plume of smoke, his laugh cold. "From the moment she pocketed that ransom money and left my sister with the mind of a three-year-old." "Yeah, I might have felt a shred of something real for her back then. But now? Hah." "As for training a lapdog... first, she has to be madly, desperately in love with you." Stella's hand, already on the door handle, froze. Her nails dug deep into her palm. A *shred* of real feeling? During their first year of marriage, he’d change the sheets seven times a night, leaving her too sore to walk the next day. He bought a flawless pink diamond at auction just to have it set into her manicure. Once, she’d offhandedly mentioned the air was dry. The next day, he had the whole of Ashford under artificial rain. When an avalanche struck during a trip, he carried her, hypothermic and limp, running through the night—nearly dying himself in the process... All of that... was just a *shred* of feeling to him? So a person’s heart could change that easily. She glanced back at him. In answer, hetauntingly wrapped an arm around a random woman beside him and kissed her, hard and possessive. Amidst the roaring cheers and applause, Stella wrenched the door open and fled. No tears. No lament. A koi’s transformation was meant to repay a debt, to help the Bradley family amass their fortune. The day her scale fell, she would leave. Since he no longer loved her, it would be easier to go without a backward glance. Later, deep into the drinks, Bradley’s phone rang. It was Kathleen, her voice choked with sobs. His sister was in trouble. Panic seized him. He rushed home to find Reese lying on the floor, covered in blood! He lunged, his hand closing around Stella’s throat and lifting her almost off her feet. "What did you do to her?!" Stella gasped, words strangled, her hands flailing helplessly. Only then did Bradley notice the long, deep gash on Stella’s arm, blood still welling from it. His grip faltered for a second, and he released her. Kathleen helped Reese up, explaining quickly, "The blood is Stella’s. But she just pushed Reese down, Bradley. If you’d been any later, Reese might have..." Reese whimpered, pointing a shaky finger. "Sissy wouldn’t wipe me... Sissy bad!" Bradley followed her finger to the toilet, where a trail of filth stained the bowl and dripped to the floor. "She’s like this because of you! Is wiping her once so hard?!" Rage ignited in his eyes again. Stella laughed, a sound born of sheer, bitter fury. "Wipe her *once*? She told me to use my mouth!" "Bradley, for years I’ve tried to explain! I never took that thousand dollars from the ransom! I didn’t hurt Reese! Why won’t you ever believe me?!" Two years ago, Reese and her best friend Kathleen had been kidnapped. The ransom was five million. Stella had delivered the cash in two suitcases. Somehow, a thousand dollars went missing. Feeling insulted, the kidnappers smashed Reese’s head in. His bright, lovely sister was reduced to a child who couldn’t control her own bladder. Bradley poured all his fury onto Stella. She became his tool for venting rage. At first, for one dollar, anyone could rent her to kneel and polish shoes. For two, she’d scrub your toilet. If you wanted something edgier, a night of suggestive dancing cost only five. Grad

After being demoted to Omega by Kobe Robinson, the Alpha of the Silver Moon Pack, for the fifth time this month, I finally realized something was wrong. He had chosen to take his Beta, Reina Jimenez, on a pack run to her hometown, leaving me behind to handle pack duties. When they returned, Kobe’s expression was unreadable as he approached me. He quickly called his Beta: "Alice found out I took Reina on the pack run to her hometown, and she didn’t make a fuss about it?" Reina’s voice crackled through the mind link, clearly puzzled: "Alpha, did you forget? You approved Chozen Hunt’s transfer to another pack yourself, and Alice left the mate bond dissolution agreement when she left." Kobe’s face turned pale as he recalled hiding that pack run from me. His aura, usually dominant and commanding, flickered with something I couldn’t quite place—guilt, perhaps? But it was gone as quickly as it came. On the pack’s communication channel, my usually aloof mate was showcasing his alpha tone during a pack gathering, impressing every wolf with his strength and leadership. The caption read: "Our Alpha made us proud in front of the visiting Lycan Prince!" I liked and commented: "A perfect fit for your talents." A second later, Kobe’s voice echoed through the mind link, sharp and accusing: "Why did you comment like that? How is Reina supposed to handle this in front of the pack?" "As her Luna, it’s normal for me to support her when she feels undermined.

Anna Brown, the formidable mafia princess of the Brown clan, once shared a passionate bond with Daniel White-the "Silver Fox" of New York's underworld-whose Christmas vow of eternal love had her believing in a future together. But when Daniel's tattoo artist lover Lola brands Anna with a humiliating slur and claims to carry his child, Anna's devotion curdles into ruthless revenge. She strips Daniel of his power, freezes his assets, and exposes Lola's greed, only to watch Daniel spiral into the clutches of the vicious gangster Grizzly. As Christmas memories of roasted sweet potatoes and rose-lined proposals fade, Anna confronts the bitter truth: some love, like a cold sweet potato, can never be warmed again.

My heart pounded against my ribs as I rushed through the sliding doors of the Moonveil Pack's medical center, my precious Lucas burning with fever in my arms. His small body felt too hot against my chest, his usually bright amber eyes—so like his father's—now glazed and half-closed. "It's okay, baby," I whispered, pressing my lips against his forehead. "Mama's got you." The medical center buzzed with unusual activity. I'd forgotten about the inter-pack medical conference today, with healers and medical staff from neighboring territories gathered to share knowledge. Under normal circumstances, I would have attended as the Lycan Queen, but Lucas's sudden fever had pushed all royal duties from my mind. "My Queen," the receptionist stood immediately, concern etched across her face. "Prince Lucas—" "His fever spiked twenty minutes ago," I explained, my voice steady despite my racing heart. "Please tell Elder Elara we're here." As she hurried away, I gently rocked Lucas, murmuring soft reassurances. Five years as Alexander's mate had taught me to maintain composure even when terrified.

My fiancé, Caleb Holder, saw me as a burden, a stain on his perfect image. In my past life, his constant cruelty and public humiliation drove me to suicide. After I died, the truth came out. His mistress, Erica, had faked her pregnancy and the miscarriage she blamed on me. While the world celebrated their "true love," I was just a tragic, forgotten fool. But then I opened my eyes. I was back on the night of the gala, moments before Erica would throw herself down the stairs. In a few minutes, Caleb would believe her lies without question, slap me until I bled, and call me a monster in front of his family. "You evil, jealous monster! You tried to kill my child!" Last time, his words destroyed me. This time, they would be my battle cry.

"Just watch... I'll take you away from that deceitful woman." Yvette whispered softly, but the resolve in her heart was unshakable. Her heart shattered as she witnessed the wedding of Aaron-the man she had loved for so long, the very same adoptive brother who once gave her a sense of home-to another woman. It was no secret. Aaron knew how she felt. And yet, he still chose to marry someone else... as if Yvette's love had never meant a thing. Just when she tried to accept that painful reality, she uncovered a truth far more devastating. Belinda... was not as kind as she seemed. The cunning hidden behind her gentle smile only made it harder for Yvette to let go-only strengthened her belief that the man she loved had fallen into the wrong hands. The love she had once buried deep within her heart had now twisted into something far darker. An obsession. Yvette no longer wished to surrender. She would take back what was meant to be hers... by any means necessary. Even if it meant destroying their marriage.

At my ten-week ultrasound, I was supposed to be celebrating the future of the Falcone family. I was Isabella Falcone, wife to the most powerful Don in the south. But when the nurse called my name, the man who stood up beside his pregnant mistress was my husband. In the sterile silence of that waiting room, he chose her. He later confessed he was being blackmailed by her family-a weakness that was a death sentence in our world. That night, he moved his mistress into our home, into my bedroom, and locked me away like a prisoner in the staff quarters. He wasn't imprisoning his wife; he was guarding an asset. He needed the legitimate heir I carried to save his crumbling empire. His betrayal was absolute when his own mother and my adoptive parents arrived while he was away. They forced me to sign divorce papers, then told me they were taking me to a clinic. His mother pulled out a gun and pointed not at my head, but at my stomach. "We're terminating this complication," she said coldly. As they dragged me from the house, my world went dark. But through the haze, I saw a fleet of black cars blocking the gate. An army of men poured out, led by a face I had only ever seen in a photograph. Days earlier, locked in my room, I made a single phone call to the only man more powerful than my husband: my biological father, the head of the Chicago Outfit. And he had come to collect his daughter.

To punish my cheating ex, I slept with his stepbrother. Best decision of my life? Or the worst mistake I never saw coming? My fiancé Christopher had been caught with his pants down-again. This time, I wasn't going to cry. One wild night with Lance Laurent-Christopher's estranged stepbrother, the heir to the Laurent empire, and the most dangerous billionaire in Los Angeles-was supposed to be my revenge. One night became two. Three. A dozen. Every time Christopher cheated, I'd moan louder in Lance's bed. An eye for an eye. A betrayal for a betrayal. When the dust settled and Christopher came crawling back, tears and pleas dripping from his lips, I felt nothing but cold satisfaction. "Too late," I smiled. "I don't recycle trash." But turning my back on Christopher was easy. Turning back on Lance Laurent? He's never a man you use for revenge. He's the devil you sign a contract with. "Thinking about him while you're underneath me?" His grip on my jaw was brutal, his hips relentless. "You started this fire. But I decide when it burns out." Some men you can't walk away from. Some debts you never stop paying. And the devil in my bed expects me to stay.

Ellen had the worst day of her life on a bright Friday morning when the Blue Moon Pack attacked their pack on the basis of something she knew she was innocent of. A large number of people were killed, and those who survived were taken in as Omegas by the Blue Moon Pack. And in the Blue Moon Pack, her suffering began visibly and intensely. On one occasion, Alpha Damien of the Blue Moon Pack sensed that Ellen was his mate, but because she was an Omega, he rejected her instantly. The Alpha's Beta accused her of stealing, and an order was passed by the Alpha to bury her alive. While at the bridge of death, she vowed to deal with the Blue Moon Pack if she were ever given a chance at life again. After three years, she was reborn as Annabel, the only daughter of Alpha Felix of the Night Walker Pack. What will happen when she is then mated to the same Alpha who rejected her and who also gave the order to bury her alive, while she is also mated to Alpha Caine of Coinage Pack? Will she still seek revenge on Alpha Damien for his wickedness? Who will she choose: the cold-blooded Alpha Damien or the kind-hearted Alpha Caine?

Sage Adler spent five years as Luna of the Silverpeak pack, standing behind an Alpha who once worshipped the ground she walked on. Then, overnight, Declan changed. He rejected their mate bond on their anniversary, paraded the sweet and beloved Omega Maren Hale as his new partner, and systematically dismantled Sage's career, reputation, and place in the pack. But Sage has a secret even she doesn't fully understand. Her crippling migraines and failing wolf spirit aren't natural — they're connected to a bloodline mystery that ties her to the very family she thought rejected her. When the pack's most powerful Elder falls ill and only Sage's rare blood constitution can provide the cure, she makes a deal that will cost her everything. As her body weakens and her wolf fades to silence, Sage watches from beyond as Declan's carefully constructed mission crumbles — and the truth emerges: he never stopped loving her. Every cruel word, every public humiliation, every cold glance was a lie to protect her from an enemy neither of them could see. But some truths arrive too late. And some bonds, once broken, can only be mourned.

My wedding day was supposed to be the merger of two dynasties, the day I was handed over on the steps of City Hall like a lamb to the slaughter. Instead of a ring, my fiancé tore our marriage contract to shreds in front of the world's press. He screamed that my family was a "cesspool of lies" and that I was "damaged goods" he refused to accept. The cameras swarmed me, their questions like daggers. Was I mentally unstable? Did I know about the family's secret debts? Had my father disinherited me? I played the part of the broken doll perfectly, my shoulders shaking as I shrank into my white dress. Everyone saw a victim, a poor little rich girl publicly shamed and discarded. They thought my father's cruel world had finally crushed me. They had no idea I wrote the script. As the limo pulled away from the chaos, my driver caught my reflection in the mirror. The trembling bride was gone. In her place was a woman whose eyes held something he couldn't name. It looked almost like satisfaction. And my performance was just the opening act.

The night before the audition for the pack’s theater company, everything went wrong. Someone threw acid on me, leaving my face scarred and my eyesight lost. Jason Russell, my childhood friend and the Gamma of our pack, was outraged, vowing to uncover the truth. Despite my appearance, he marked me as his mate in an elaborate ceremony, solidifying our bond in front of the entire pack. I was overcome with gratitude, believing the Moon Goddess had blessed me with a mate who stood by me in my darkest hour. But then I heard him say, “I was the one who bought the acid. I arranged for it to be thrown on her.” “Only then could I ensure she wouldn’t compete with Sage Olson for the spot in the theater company.” --- “Amber used to be the beauty of our pack. If it hadn’t happened, the role would definitely be hers,” Santana Gilbert, one of Jason’s closest allies, chuckled, scratching his chin. “But Gamma, don’t you feel any remorse?” Jason, lounging in his chair, shrugged dismissively. “What’s there to regret?” “You regret marking her, right?

His love is a curse. His mate is his weakness. And fate is his greatest enemy. Kyan was born with a legacy of darkness. Cursed from birth. A fate sealed by the original Moon Goddess herself. As an Octavian, his Lycan is more than just a beast—it is a monster of legend, doomed to love and lose, destined to kill the mate it was created to protect. So when he finds Marabella, his fated mate, he does the only thing that makes sense. He rejects her. It’s the only way to keep her safe. To stop the curse from repeating itself. But Marabella is not just any mate. And when his best friend, Jonah, starts to claim her as his own, Kyan realizes that fighting fate may not be as simple as walking away. Because what if the only way to break the curse… is to risk it all?

I woke up in a sterile hospital room with no memory of the lethal-looking man pacing outside the glass. My friend told me he was Dante Moretti, the Underboss of Chicago, and the fiancé I had supposedly worshipped for seven years. But the truth shattered me faster than the crash did. When our convoy was ambushed and the car caught fire, Dante didn't pull me out. He chose to save Valeria—the widow of a soldier he felt guilty about—leaving me to burn in the backseat. He called it a "tactical decision." I called it a death sentence. I thought losing my memory was a curse, but it was a gift. It stripped away the delusion of love. I saw a man who treated me like a useful piece of furniture. I saw a rival in Valeria who smirked while taking my job and my place. When she set a room on fire to frame me, Dante saved her again, leaving me to choke on the smoke. He even branded me a thief in front of the entire Commission to protect her lies. He thought I would always be there, the obedient statue waiting for his scraps. He was wrong. I fled to New York and walked straight into the arms of his sworn enemy, Enzo Falcone. A man who didn't just promise to protect me, but walked through fire to do it. Months later, when Dante finally realized the truth and crawled back to me in the rain, begging for a second chance, I looked him dead in the eye. "Forgetting you was the only peace I ever knew." I took Enzo’s hand, letting Dante see exactly what he had lost. "Remembering you just confirmed that you are a mistake I will never make again."

May Boston is a sassy, powerful woman who owns the biggest fashion agency in the city. Her perfectly controlled world is thrown into chaos when she crosses paths with Luca, a homeless man suffering from amnesia. Out of pity, and curiosity, she lets him live with her. What she does not expect is to be bossed around in her own house, treated like a subordinate, and willingly doing everything he asks. Slowly, without realizing it, May falls deeply in love with him. That turns out to be her greatest mistake. Because before Luca lost his memory, he was the ruthless king of the largest Mafia group in Italy, Oliver de Luca

I stood at the edge of the ballroom, a black blot on my husband’s perfect canvas. While Jensen Carlson stood under the crystal chandeliers as the master of his universe, the guests whispered that his "friend" Aubree was a much better match for him than I ever could be. My stomach was twisting in sharp, jagged cramps from what I knew was acute appendicitis, but to the Carlson family, I wasn't a wife—I was a utility. My mother-in-law called me a "drill bit" and ordered me to drive Jensen home like a servant because his "optics" mattered more than my internal organs. When I arrived, Jensen didn't ask why I was shaking; he just snapped that my black coat was "depressing" and told me to stop "fidgeting" with my medication. He spent the night whispering to Aubree, then came home and fed my divorce papers into a shredder, mocking me for thinking I could survive a week without the Carlson name. The next day, he humiliated me in front of my entire department, accusing me of flirting with staff just as I was about to collapse from the pain. I had given up my PhD for this man and secretly written the code that built his billion-dollar empire, yet he viewed me as nothing more than a "depreciating asset." Even as I lay shivering on the hardwood floor because his mother locked the guest rooms to force me into his bed, he only sneered, asking if he was "that repulsive" when the pain made me vomit. "If you're not in the car by seven, I'll cut off your grandfather's medical funding." That was the final thread. I didn't go to the gala. Instead, I reclaimed my original patents, wiped my server access, and met him on the curb with a cardboard box and a resignation letter. "I'm not your wife anymore, Jensen. And I'm not your employee." As my Uber pulled away, leaving him clutching a revoked patent and a divorce petition, I realized I wasn't losing everything—I was finally starting to breathe.

On my wedding night, I waited for the fated spark. Instead, I found a fresh tattoo on my Alpha husband's chest. Beneath the ink lay a jagged bite mark. Jameson had marked Caren, the wolf-less Omega, just hours before our ceremony. When I confronted him, he called me paranoid. But the betrayal didn't stop at infidelity. On my birthday, Caren brought me "fertility tea." I smelled the metallic tang of Wolfsbane immediately—a poison deadly to our kind. I refused to touch it, but Jameson’s eyes flashed with dominance. "Drink it. That is an order." He used the Alpha Voice to force the poison down my throat. As my throat seized and I clawed at the carpet, dying, he didn't help me. When I reached for the antidote, he shoved me into the wall to protect Caren, accusing me of trying to attack her. I woke up in the hospital to the devastating news: the poison had killed our unborn pup. Yet, Jameson still shielded his mistress, baring his fangs at his own mother to keep Caren safe. He thought he could fix it. He thought he still owned me. "Sit! I command you to stay!" He roared the Alpha Command, expecting me to kneel. But his authority shattered along with my heart. I didn't just sign the divorce papers. I walked out to the parking lot under the full moon and rejected the bond, watching him collapse in agony. Then, the "broken" wolf he despised finally shifted. I rose as the legendary White Wolf, and left him howling in the dirt.

I ran through the freezing rain, desperate to escape the Pennington estate. My adoptive family had raised me for one purpose: to be sold off as a bargaining chip in a wealthy arranged marriage. But before I could reach the highway, I was cornered. Not just by my family's cruel guards, but by Hollis Wall—a terrifying, ruthless billionaire who snapped my tormentor's wrist and dragged me into his car. He didn't want a ransom. He threw a prenuptial agreement in my lap. I thought he was insane until he took a scalpel to his own arm, and a burning agony ripped across my flawless skin. Because of a near-drowning accident three years ago, our nervous systems were linked. Every time I bled, he felt the agony. He locked me in his fortress to keep me safe, but when I finally escaped back to my adoptive parents, they didn't protect me. Instead, my adoptive father smiled and showed me a live video of my biological father on life support, a guard's hand hovering over the plug. "You will marry Douglas Cherry tomorrow, or your father dies," he sneered. My own family was willing to murder my only real flesh and blood just to secure their wealth. I collapsed onto the cold marble floor, my heart crushed in a vice of absolute, suffocating despair. "I'll marry him," I sobbed, surrendering to the darkness. But miles away, in his dark study, the ruthless Hollis Wall violently collapsed to the floor, gasping for air as my severe panic attack bled directly into his chest. Our twisted bond was killing him, and I knew he would tear the city apart to find me.

The wedding was already halfway through when I left my wife to help my ex-girlfriend, Vanessa, with breastfeeding issues. Gripping the hem of her dress tightly, Ashlynn rushed into the hospital and found me assisting Vanessa. My lab coat bore milk stains, and my gloved hand was helping on her chest. Vanessa’s voice was tremulous. “The baby just can’t latch on, so I needed your help, Connor.” I froze and turned, ready to leave, but Vanessa playfully tugged at my tie. “The baby should really call you Dad... you remember, that night, it was five times…” As the door swung open, my eyes took in three things: the disheveled bed, my hand, and the blush on Vanessa’s face. Both Vanessa and I were caught off guard when Ashlynn walked in. Vanessa hurriedly covered herself, her eyes reddening. “Ashlynn...