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Ruby grew up sad for most of her life. Born into a society where beauty standards were seen as slender and tall, she felt low self esteem her entire life. Her family even made matters worse by ridiculing her each day, and comparing her with her younger sister. Her wolf despised her, accusing Ruby of trapping her in a fat body. She always tried to comfort herself that she wasn't fat but chubby, but no one saw her that way. After being rejected and betrayed by her boyfriend, her family, instead of comforting her, blamed her that it was her fault that he left. "You are too fat and ugly." Her mother spat at Ruby with a look of disdain. "No man would ever want you." Ruby wiped her tears, making a decision to transform her shape into what would be accepted. However, while she is on the journey of body transformation, she comes across a stranger who looks at her in a way that no one ever did. He didn't think she was worthless and everything about her seemed perfect in his eyes. Would Ruby give this man a chance to love her, or is she too broken to see her worth?

For four years, I traced the bullet scar on Chace’s chest, believing it was proof he would bleed to keep me safe. On our anniversary, he told me to wear white because "tonight changes everything." I walked into the gala thinking I was getting a ring. Instead, I stood frozen in the center of the ballroom, drowning in silk, watching him slide his mother's sapphire onto another woman's finger. Karyn Warren. The daughter of a rival family. When I begged him with my eyes to claim me, to save me from the public humiliation, he didn't flinch. He just leaned toward his Underboss, his voice amplified by the silence. "Karyn is for power. Ember is for pleasure. Don't confuse the assets." My heart didn't just break; it incinerated. He expected me to stay as his mistress, threatening to dig up my dead mother’s grave if I refused to play the obedient pet. He thought I was trapped. He thought I had nowhere to go because of my father’s massive gambling debts. He was wrong. With shaking hands, I pulled out my phone and texted the one name I was never supposed to use. Keith Mosley. The Don. The monster under Chace's bed. *I am invoking the Blood Oath. My father’s debt. I am ready to pay it.* His reply came three seconds later, buzzing against my palm like a warning. *The price is marriage. You belong to me. Yes or No?* I looked up at Chace, who was laughing with his new fiancée, thinking he owned me. I looked down and typed three letters. *Yes.*

I was Grayson Warren’s "broken doll," a disgraced socialite kept on a short leash to pay off my family’s debts. To the world, I was a fragile liability; to Grayson, I was a pet he could humiliate for sport, forcing me to play the role of a mentally unstable girl while I secretly gathered evidence against his empire. The cruelty peaked when Grayson forced me to break three years of sobriety in front of his investors, mocking my struggle before making me kneel on a golf course to scrub his shoes. He treated my life like a game, literally betting my sanity against a corporate board seat while he soft-launched a new relationship with a high-profile PR queen. When the pressure triggered a massive panic attack, Grayson abandoned me in a private clinic just so he wouldn't miss a dinner reservation. Even my own mother turned against me, threatening to leak my psychiatric records and brand me a "violent delusional" if I didn't beg for Grayson’s forgiveness. I was trapped between a man who owned my debt and a mother who valued her estate over my daughter’s life. I realized then that they would never let me go; they would only break me until there was nothing left. They thought they had erased my soul, but they forgot I was the only witness to the night my true love, Felix, was murdered. I was done being the victim. I faked a suicide jump off the Queensboro Bridge to go off the grid, then crashed Grayson’s elite gala in a dress that signaled his downfall. Just as Grayson tried to physically crush me one last time, the room went silent. Felix Law, the man the world thought was dead for three years, walked out of the shadows with a federal warrant in his hand. "Take your hands off her, Warren." The game didn't just change; it ended. Felix was back from the dead, and this time, we were burning the empire to the ground together.

Elorai. They burnt my lab to the ground. They killed my scientists... with their claws. The white, pristine walls they coated with blood and brain matter. Now they're glaring down at me, teeth bared. But they won't kill me. No... they'll take me instead, keep me in a cage, and bind me forever to them. Joke's on them. They're insane if they think I won't claw my way out. * Ronan. Knox. Lucas She was our target-the one we were sent to kill. And that's what we originally planned to do. But we had her beneath our teeth, and instead of pleading for her life, she fucking glared at us. Daring us. Worst part? Our alpha wills weren't working. Her scent bothered our wolves. So we changed our minds. We'll keep her... for now. And kill everyone who tries to take her from us. **** Elorai-or "Lo," like her scientist buddies called her-was just fine, living her life as a test subject for her white-coated handlers, getting cut open and sewn back together, until one day they looked at her and tagged her successful. That's when everything shattered. In an instant, her lab was destroyed and everyone she knew was killed. She tried to run, but her attackers caught her. Werewolves... or mad beasts, like her scientists called them. The plan was to kill on sight-but all three beasts looked down at her, their eyes gleaming... And something shifted in their gazes. That's when she knew she was in trouble.

was a witness to a murder I wasn't supposed to see. I expected a bullet; I got a golden cage." Ivy Thorne is a nobody-a struggling cellist with a mountain of medical bills and a past she can't remember. Her life changes in a heartbeat when she witnesses Kaelen Volkov, the Mafia's most lethal enforcer, executing a traitor in a dark alley. She should be dead. But Kaelen doesn't pull the trigger. Instead, he sees the star-shaped birthmark on her neck and makes a choice that will ignite a war. To save her from his father's wrath, he claims her as his own. Now, Ivy is trapped in a world of blood and silk, forced to play the role of Kaelen's devoted fiancée. He's cold, scarred, and dangerous, yet he treats her like a priceless treasure he's been waiting years to reclaim. As the lines between her fear and her desire begin to blur, Ivy realizes that Kaelen isn't just protecting her from the Mafia-he's hiding a secret about her past that could shatter her world. In the Volkov empire, loyalty is everything and debt is paid in blood. But for Ivy, the highest price might be her heart.

The notification chime on my phone cut through the quiet hum of my photography studio like a knife. I was editing wedding photos—ironically enough—when the sound made me glance up from my computer screen. The afternoon light streaming through the tall windows cast everything in a golden glow, the kind of light that usually made me feel peaceful and inspired. I picked up my phone absently, expecting maybe a text from Jensen about dinner plans or when he'd be back from his business trip to Chicago. He'd been gone for three days, and I missed him terribly. We'd been married for three years, and I still got that flutter in my stomach when I thought about him coming home. But it wasn't Jensen's name on my screen. It was an unknown number. The message was simple: "Thought you should know." Attached were three photos. My hands started trembling before my mind could fully process what I was seeing.

Five years. For five years, I had prayed to the Moon Goddess for this exact moment. I stood in the center of our Alpha suite, adjusting the collar of my crimson silk dress. The dining table was set to perfection: sterling silver cutlery gleaming under the soft glow of candlelight, two plates of medium-rare steak cooling slightly, and a bottle of expensive red wine breathing on the counter. It was our fifth mating anniversary. But the real centerpiece wasn't the food. It was a small, black velvet gift box resting exactly where my mate, Alpha Bowen Smith, would sit. Inside that box wasn't a luxury watch or a pair of engraved cufflinks. It was a plastic stick with two solid pink lines. I was pregnant.

The morning light filtered through the tall windows of the Pack House as I arranged the fresh-cut lilies in a crystal vase. My fingers lingered on the delicate petals—just as Greyson had lingered on my skin last night, his touch passionate but somehow distant. I pushed the thought away. Today was important. "Perfect," I whispered, stepping back to admire my work. The grand hall sparkled with silver and blue decorations—Silverclaw Pack colors—for Greyson's birthday celebration tonight. Everything had to be flawless. I was Gianna Hayes, the Luna of Silverclaw Pack, and my Alpha deserved nothing less than perfection. My wolf, Aria, stirred within me. *He seems distracted lately.* "He's busy," I replied silently.

All her life, she was told female Alphas were weak. All her life, she believed it. Serena Blackwood was born to be an Alpha, yet raised like a curse. Unloved, controlled, and denied her freedom. Until she met Jayden, a mysterious rogue who made her feel seen, loved, and alive. But to save him from her power-hungry parents, she did the unforgivable: She rejected him. Three years later, Serena attends the brutal and masked Alpha King’s Choosing Ceremony. But when the king removes his mask, time stops. He is Jayden. The mate she shattered. The rogue she “betrayed.” The man who vanished… and returned as the most feared Lycan alive. And he remembers everything Forced into a cruel royal marriage, Serena endures humiliation, isolation, and a bond that refuses to die. But when war erupts and a deadly curse spreads through the Lycan Kingdom, the truth surfaces: Serena is not weak. She is a Lunar Alpha, the rare wolf with the power to heal, destroy, and rewrite destiny. Jayden realizes the one woman he destroyed is the only one destined to save them all. And the prophecy says she and Jayden must unite… Or the entire supernatural world will fall.

He bought her future with a signature. But what he wants... is her soul. Aria Winters was only trying to escape her past and earn her degree when she signed the scholarship contract to the elite Blackthorn University. But buried beneath the fine print is a deadly trap; one that binds her to Lucien Vale, the masked billionaire heir who rules the campus like a dark prince. Lucien doesn't do feelings. He hides behind charm, cruelty, and a mask both literal and emotional. To him, Aria is property. A prize. A pawn in a twisted game. But what happens when the pawn starts to unravel the player? In a world of secrets, lies, and betrayals, Aria must decide: surrender to the man who owns her... or tear off the mask and destroy him from the inside.

Milo was born as a curse. an Omega male, A disgrace and never heard of. Desperate to get the acknowledgement of his family, He is Disguised as his powerful twin sister, and bundled as a pet to the most feared man in the underworld: the Mafian King. Bound in chains and stripped of his freedom, Milo is prepared to endure whatever fate that is waiting for him. But when his disguise is shattered, and he was caught, the lie that was meant to save him turns into a death sentence. The Mafian King does not take kindly to deception. Yet, instead of killing him, he does something far worse. He claims him. "From now on, you are mine. I own every inch of your body as my little pet" Milo must learn to survive, in this world fueled with cruelty and betrayal. not just as a prisoner, but as one thing no man in this kingdom has ever dared to be. A pet. But as secrets begin to reveal themselves, Milo realizes something chilling... Maybe the true monster isn't the one who forcefully claimed him. Maybe it's seeing the face of the one that would stab him from the back. Can he escape his sad fate? Or will he get drowned in the power struggle between the forces that want to have him for themselves.

The exact moment Marcus Thorne, the most violent Capo on the East Coast, chose to leave our anniversary dinner to answer his mistress's call, I didn't cry. "Business," he rumbled, ignoring the untouched meal I had cooked. "Don't cause a scene, Ellie," he commanded before walking out the door. I later found out his "business" was a polo match with Izzy. She posted a photo of them laughing, her hand on his chest, wearing the shirt I bought him. When I tried to leave, he humiliated me publicly. He kissed her on stage at a gala, just to prove he could. He told his men I was merely acting out. "Ellie is the furniture," he laughed. "You don't throw away antique furniture just because you bought a new TV." But the final blow came when a bomb detonated at a family gathering. Marcus didn't look for me. He dove to cover Izzy with his body. He actually stepped over my bleeding leg to carry her to safety, leaving me in the dust and debris. He thought I was trapped. He thought I was dependent on his money and his name. He thought I would be waiting at home when he was done playing hero. He was wrong. I signed the divorce papers, destroyed my wedding ring, and boarded a one-way flight to Italy. Three months later, when he finally tracked me down in Tuscany, he fell to his knees in the street, begging me to come back. But I just held the hand of the man standing next to me—a man who treated me like a partner, not a prop. "You are trespassing," I said coldly. "Go home, Marcus."

Adaline Whitmore becomes the price for her father's betrayal when she is forced to live under the roof of the ruthless billionaire Ronan Frost, the man who lost everything because of her family. But neither of them knows one truth. She is the same girl who once saved him years ago. As everything begins to change and secrets come to light, the line between punishment and desire fades. Now Ronan must choose between his need for revenge and the woman quietly stealing his heart.

I’ve spent eighteen hundred days as a silent ghost in the Crawford estate, a place where the air smells of expensive cigars and terror. My father, Senator Jed Bowen, sold me to Alek Crawford to pay off his gambling debts, trading his daughter’s life for a seat in the Senate. Alek doesn’t just want my service; he wants my complete submission. He tracks my every move through cameras and bruises my skin just to see if I’ll flinch. He thinks he owns me because he holds the contract, and his mother ensures I’m kept in my place with slaps and insults. When a scandal involving my half-sister and Alek’s brother hit the news, the house turned into a war zone. Alek cornered me in the dark, his hands stained with blood and ink, whispering that I was nothing but a receipt for his family's money. He’s been forcing me to take pills for years, believing they’ve kept me drugged and mute. "She needs to speak again," he told a surgeon over the phone. "Whatever it takes." He thinks he’s fixing a broken toy, but he’s actually planning to carve the silence into my throat permanently. He has no idea that I’ve been switching those pills for years, or that I’m more awake and more dangerous than he could ever imagine. I’ve endured the biting cold and the crushing weight of his obsession, waiting for a single sign that my nightmare could end. Tonight, a secret message reached me in the rain, confirming that the only man I ever loved has finally finished his mission. Kole is coming back for me. The contract review is tomorrow, but I’m not planning on signing anything. I’m planning on taking back everything they stole from me, starting with my voice.

Palermo does not forgive. Neither does it forget. When Guerrero Valenti, the feared leader of the Vikings, vanished, the city exhaled a dangerous calm-but only for a moment. In the shadows, enemies waited. Rivals sharpened their knives. And one woman bore a secret that could ignite every street in the city. Lucia Romano carried the child of a man who had disappeared into legend and rumor. A son who had not been claimed, not protected, not named. The city whispered of him with venom: the bastard of the Vikings. The boy was fragile, but he was a storm waiting to erupt. And every night, Palermo tested him. Masked men tried to snatch him from his crib. Fire, steel, and blood became his lullabies. Yet he survived. Every threat only sharpened his instincts, every scream hardened his mother's resolve. But whispers spread faster than steel through the night-rumors of a man returning. A shadow that would claim everything, sparking fear in every heart: Guerrero Valenti. The father who abandoned him. The legend whose name alone commands obedience. The storm that will rise, carrying vengeance, blood, and fire. And when he comes, Every man who dared call the bastard his enemy will fall. Every street, every roof, every whispered corner will bow to the son of Guerrero Valenti or be washed in blood. This is the story of survival. Of fire and steel. Of a mother and her son. Of a father's return. Even the earth is getting ready to absorb blood ... the blood of those who call the legitimate son of the Vikings a "BASTARD", and collect necks........the necks of those fallen by the sword of GUERRERO VALANTI. And upon his return Heads will bow to the one they called a BASTARD .

The passenger window bloomed into a spiderweb of cracks, and one razor-sharp sliver drew a searing, hot line across Amelia Hayes’s cheek. "Help me," she choked into the phone, but her husband, Ethan Caldwell, snapped: "Amelia, for God's sake, I'm in a meeting." A percussive blow, then a wave of encroaching silence. She awoke not on the hard-packed asphalt beside her car, but in her opulent master bedroom, the calendar marking three months after her wedding. Three months into a marriage that had already begun its slow work of killing her. Ethan stood by the window, his voice softening, "Yes, Jessica, tonight sounds perfect." Jessica Thorne, his true love, the shadow over Amelia's first life. The customary ache that had long occupied the space beneath her ribs did not flare, but rather receded, leaving behind a preternatural stillness—a silence so profound she could count the heavy, deliberate beats of the pulse in her wrist. For seven miserable years, she had given Ethan a desperate, unyielding devotion. She had endured his glacial distance, his brazen affairs, his emotional abuse, all for a flicker of his attention. She had become a shell, a caricature, ridiculed by Ethan's circle and condescended to by his family. The profound injustice, the sheer blindness of his indifference, was a bitter pill. The familiar, constricting tightness that had long defined her chest had vanished. In its place was a peculiar and unnerving lightness, as if some vital, heavy organ had been neatly excised, leaving behind a cavity that no longer knew how to ache. She recalled the final indignity from that first life: a vulgar scene at a gala involving Eleanor’s ashes. Ethan’s palm had struck her shoulder with such force that she stumbled two full steps backward; before her skull met the unyielding wall, she registered the faint, sickening pop of a vertebra in her own neck, his accusations echoing: "You are a disgrace." He comforted Jessica while Amelia's head reeled from the impact. That was the final insult. There were no tears, nor any tremor of rage. Her fingertips, which had so often trembled, now rested upon her knees with the weight and stillness of poured lead. She delivered a small velvet box to his penthouse. Inside: the wedding ring and a divorce decree. "I require you," she stated, her voice a thing of newfound clarity, "to be removed from my life. Permanently." She was reborn to be free.

WARNING!! THIS STORY CONTAINS A LOT OF MATURE THEMES, ELEMENTS OF HARDCORE BDSM, PRAISE KINKS, SLUT-SHAMING KINKS, AND DEGRADATION KINKS. READ WITH CAUTION. (BOOK ONE OF THE DELUCA KINGS SERIES) Serena would do anything to uncover the death of her parents, including sleeping with the most dangerous man in New York, Nero DeLuca. And he knows this, so he strings her along so he can see how far she's willing to go. *** "Get on your knees," Nero said. "Excuse me-" "You're my submissive, and you exist for the sole purpose of my pleasure. I don't tolerate defiance. When I say get on your knees, you get on your knees." "Yes," I replied as I got on my knees, hating how much his commanding tone turned me on. He put his finger under my chin and lifted it so I could look at him. "Yes, what?" "Yes, sir." "Good girl. Now get on the bed and show me that beautiful cunt. I want to see what it looks like before I destroy it with my cock. Tonight, the whole of New York will know you belong to me. I'll not take anything less than you screaming my name, and by the time I'm done with you, you'll feel me between your legs for a week."

I dragged myself through the front door of our suburban home, my body aching from a fourteen-hour shift at the hospital. The antiseptic smell still clung to my scrubs as I dropped my bag by the entryway table. All I wanted was a hot shower and my bed—maybe a glass of wine if I could manage to stay awake long enough to pour it. The garage light was still on. Strange. Bradley usually turned it off after his morning commute. "Bradley?" I called out, receiving no answer. He must be upstairs in his study again, lost in his academic papers. I headed toward the garage, intending to turn off the light and check on my mountain bike. I'd been planning a weekend ride to clear my head after the stress of losing a patient earlier that week.

I stood frozen in the doorway of what should have been our home. The penthouse—my creation, my labor of love, my future—was being systematically erased before my eyes. Sunlight streamed through naked windows where my carefully selected drapes once hung, casting harsh shadows across bare floors that had been covered with plush rugs I'd spent months choosing. "Ma'am, where do you want us to put this?" A burly mover approached, hefting the last of what I recognized as my antique reading lamp. "I..." My voice faltered. "There must be some mistake. This is the Hayes-Williams penthouse." The man checked his clipboard. "Orders came direct from Mr. Hayes. Everything out by end of day." He shifted uncomfortably under my stare.

My phone died—cut off for an overdue bill—right as I was pulled into a group chat. It was my third hour behind the convenience store counter. Heat from the back kitchen sagged against me, a physical weight that turned every breath into a struggle. When I finally used my first paycheck to top up my balance and rebooted the phone, I saw the group name: “Patrick’s Second-Hand Trading Group.” For a second, I actually thought some classmate had kindly added me to hunt for a bargain. Then I saw it. The pinned post. The bet. Worth a million. And the subject was me. The goal? To see who could ruin me first—in two months. … My phone buzzed while I was hauling the last crate of near-expired sodas into the storeroom. Sweat stung my eyes, blurring everything. **[Jennifer has invited you to join the group chat “Patrick’s Second-Hand Trading Group.”]** Jennifer? The campus darling. The undisputed queen bee of Royal Crest Academy. She invited *me*? I wiped my eyes, disbelief turning in my stomach like a cold stone. I tapped in. The chat was a frenzy. “Well, look who finally showed up.” “Welcome, welcome! Give it up for the new queen of the rankings, Sophie!” “Oof. So this is the scholarship kid who bumped our goddess Jennifer down to second?” My fingers went cold around the phone. Before I could process it, the pinned message—set by the group admin—hit my vision like a poisoned blade. **[Group: Game on. Target: Sophie, Class 1, Grade 11. Participants: Patrick, Johnny. Wager: One million. Rules: First to claim Sophie within two months wins. All details shared here.]** The admin was Patrick. The school’s top bully, the guy nobody crossed. The other participant was Johnny. The charming, polished student council president—Patrick’s equal in reputation. The world tilted. My stomach churned. This wasn’t a second-hand trading group. It was a hunting ground. Built for me. And I was the million-dollar prey. All because, on the last finals, I—the scholarship kid who barely scraped into this elite academy—accidentally scored first. Knocking Jennifer, the perennial top dog, down a peg. **[Don’t panic, Host! Stay calm! According to the original plot, you’re just the disposable villainess. The plot’s kicking off now!]** A familiar line of translucent text scrolled past my sight. Yeah. I could see the bullet comments. Ever since I woke up in this world. They were ruthless spoilers, telling me I was living in a campus novel. Jennifer was the beloved female lead. My purpose? To be the foil to her purity and kindness. To get played by Patrick and Johnny, then drop out in disgrace. “Hey Sophie, cat got your tongue? Scared stiff?” “A million bucks. If I were her, I’d just pick one and get it over with. At least she’d walk away with something.” “Ha! As if she’s worth it. Patrick and Johnny are just doing this to teach her a lesson—for Jennifer.” Finally, Jennifer chimed in, her tone sugary sweet. “Oh, everyone, please don’t say such things about Sophie! She studies so hard, I’m sure she didn’t mean any harm… Patrick, Johnny, don’t take the game too far, okay?” Her performative concern sparked a wave of sympathetic replies. I bit down on my lower lip until I tasted copper. Fear. Rage. Humiliation. They twisted inside me like choking vines, squeezing my heart until I couldn’t breathe. Leave the group? Pretend I never saw it? And then wait for their endless harassment and schemes, until I was backed into a corner—just like in the original plot? No. I glanced down at my phone screen. At the new notification from the hospital. Another payment reminder. My grandmother’s second surgery. Still twenty thousand short. My father, the gambler, had blown the last of our household money yesterday. Left us drowning in debt. I had nowhere to retreat. If they wanted to play, fine. I’d play. But I’d be the one writing the rules. I took a deep breath and moved fast. Created a new social media account. Pitch-black profile picture. Username: “Ethan.” Then, using that account, I sent my first message straight into the lion’s den. “Hey everyone. I’m Sophie’s ex-boyfriend.”

I have always been good at reading Ryker Palmer. Not because I am his mate — though I am, or I was, or I will be for a few more hours yet. But because I have spent three years watching him the way you watch weather when you live somewhere that floods. You learn the signs. The way his jaw sets a half-second before he issues a command. The way his silver wolf pushes close to the surface when something threatens the pack, making the air around him feel heavier, charged. The way he goes very, very still when he has already made a decision he knows is wrong. I see that stillness from across the great hall, and my stomach drops. The Thanksgiving feast is everything it is supposed to be. Long tables crowded with pack members, the smell of roasted meat and pine smoke and the particular warmth of a hundred wolves gathered under one roof.

On her wedding day, pregnant Luna Elena is drugged by jealous best-friend Victoria, beaten until she miscarries, and dumped in a river to die so Victoria can wed Elena’s Alpha Marcus. Elena survives, rescued by rival Lycan King Damien, who confirms the baby is dead and Marcus has already married Victoria. Cutting her hair and dyeing it dark, Elena begins nightly hauntings in her blood-stained wedding dress, driving Victoria toward madness and reducing Marcus to a frantic shadow—launching a calculated war to reclaim everything they stole.

Trigger Warning: This book contains dark themes including captivity, violence, abuse, and explicit scenes. Please read responsibly. Sold like a commodity. Claimed like property. Desired like an obsession. Tobias Shane thought he had lost everything when his uncle betrayed him-until he was stripped, chained, and auctioned to the highest bidder. Benjamin Shaai, New York's most feared mafia boss, didn't come for a pet. But when he sees the quiet fire in Tobias' eyes, he wants him. Buys him. Owns him. What begins as a cruel arrangement of pain and pleasure turns into something neither of them expected. But Tobias carries a secret-one that could collapse empires. As enemies circle and betrayal festers from within, the devil finds something he never wanted... a heart. But loving Tobias might be the one war Benjamin can't win.