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I stared at my phone, my thumb frozen mid-scroll as the TMZ headline screamed up at me: "Sterling Construction Mogul's Secret Romance with Rising Starlet." The images beneath the garish yellow text made my stomach lurch. Nathan—my husband of seven years—with his arms wrapped around a young actress I recognized from billboards. Scarlett Rose. Her name burned into my mind as I took in photo after photo of them together. But it wasn't just the fact of their affair that made my hands tremble. It was the way he looked at her—tender, present, alive. His eyes crinkled at the corners, his smile reaching them in a way I hadn't witnessed since... ever. Not once in our marriage had he looked at me that way. "Exclusive photos show Nathan Sterling, 38, sharing intimate moments with Scarlett Rose, 24, at his Malibu beach house," the article continued.

The silver moonlight filtered through the ancient oak canopy as I made my way deeper into the forest, my hand instinctively protective over the small life growing within me. Three months. Three precious months of carrying Drake's heir, and tonight—our tenth mating anniversary—I would finally tell him. I'd planned this moment for weeks. A private ceremony at the sacred grove where we'd first met, just the two of us under the Moon Goddess's blessing. My fingers traced the delicate silver pendant at my throat, a gift from my mother that had been in the Morrison bloodline for generations. Drake deserved to hear this news somewhere meaningful, somewhere that honored both our bond and our future. The forest felt different tonight. Too quiet. Even my wolf, Luna, stirred restlessly beneath my skin, her usual contentment replaced by an edge of unease I couldn't quite place.

My fiancé staged his own kidnapping as a sick loyalty test, betting I'd risk our unborn child to save him. The shock of his betrayal cost me our baby. When I confronted him, he protected his mistress and burned our son's ashes right in front of me. He sneered that I was just his "loyal little soldier" and that only death would end us. He was right. He just never realized he was talking about his own death, at the hands of the queen who owns his entire army.

On Thanksgiving day, my chubby presents me to his best buddy as a gift, while I experienced the most estactic time of my life while fucking with two guys simultaneously, and realized myself loved him. will the threesome finish when the holiday ends, will I let him leave as we promised?

"Run all you want, little omega. I'll always find you." Dorothy thought her biggest problem was making it through high school. Turns out, her biggest problem is a possessive alpha mate, a forgotten past, and a truth that could get her killed. With enemies closing in and a bond she never asked for tightening around her, Dorothy has two choices-fight for her freedom or surrender to a love that was written in the stars. But how do you escape a fate that's already claimed you?

I lay broken in a hospital bed after a brutal car crash, but my family never came. My father and brother were too busy preparing for my manipulative half-sister Ainsley's wedding. The groom was my fiancé, Clayton. While I fought for my life, his last words to me over the phone were a cold command. "Go to hell for all I care." They abandoned me, told the world I was dead, and even carved my name on a tombstone. They buried me under a mountain of lies so Ainsley could steal the life that was mine. But I didn't die. I was reborn. Five years later, I returned as Ivy Richardson-a bestselling author, married to a tech CEO, and backed by a family with unimaginable power. I only came back to settle my mother's estate. But the first person I met was Clayton, standing in front of my grave, mourning the girl he helped kill.

Five years ago, my brother Declan stripped me of our family name and cast me out. Now, I was a cocktail waitress with terminal cancer, desperately trying to save enough money for my own urn. To make the final payment, I got on my knees on the cold club floor to bark like a dog for a drunk man's cash. My brother saw it all. But instead of helping, his face twisted in disgust. He fired me on the spot, withheld my final paycheck, and swore I'd never work in this city again, stealing my last chance to die with a shred of dignity. He grabbed my arm, his eyes burning with a cold fire I once thought was reserved for his business rivals. "I don't care if you die," he spat. And in that moment, I knew he meant it. The last flicker of hope died. He had taken my name, my health, and my future. Now, he had even taken my death. So I wrote a letter, revealing the truth he refused to see for five years-about the stolen watch, the woman who framed me, and the cancer eating me alive. Then, I walked to the river. If I couldn't live with dignity, I would let my death be the final, undeniable truth.

On my 28th birthday, my superstar boyfriend, Jarrett, stood me up. He had to comfort his co-star, Kisha. A few hours later, I saw the paparazzi photo that ended our seven-year relationship. Jarrett was in a dimly lit bar, his arm wrapped around a tear-streaked Kisha, her head on his shoulder. The next morning, I confronted him. He insisted it was just "method acting." "She was just drunk," he said, running a hand through his hair. "Confessing her feelings for her character." He called me dramatic and paranoid for questioning him. He said I was throwing away seven years over a "stupid photo." It was the same gaslighting he'd used for years, wrapping his emotional infidelity in a pretty little "method acting" bow. But this time, I didn't cry. I felt a sudden, chilling calm. "I regret every second I wasted loving you," I told him. "We are over."

I placed the divorce papers on the mahogany desk, ending five years of being the perfect, silent wife to the most ruthless Don in Chicago. He didn't sign them. Instead, Kaden Barnes looked at me with cold, reptilian eyes and named his price for my freedom. "Thirty lashes," he said. "The discipline of a traitor." I accepted. I let his enforcer shred my back until I was dragging myself across the gravel driveway in a pool of my own crimson. But as I crawled toward the exit, I heard him laughing with his mistress, Brittaney. "Harlow isn't my wife," he sneered. "The certificate is a forgery. She owns nothing." My loyalty had been a lie. And when Brittaney faked an injury to frame me, Kaden didn't check on my bleeding wounds. He tied my wrists and ankles to the tow hitch of his SUV. He drove forward until my hip popped and my shoulder dislocated, leaving me broken in the dirt while his mistress smiled. He thought he had destroyed me. He didn't know his mother would smuggle me onto a private jet to London that very night. Three years later, the Barnes empire collapsed. Kaden was rotting in a Supermax prison, betrayed by the very mistress he had tortured me to protect. Now, a letter sits on my desk in Kensington. The monster is dying of cancer, and he has left me his entire fortune. I packed my bag for one last trip. It was time to see if the King had finally learned that he threw away a diamond to chase after cheap glass.

"Fuck", I gasped when Kaelen suddenly tore me away from his skin, panting heavily. My fingers shivered. My mind refused to let go of the taste of his lips. I... I just... kissed the beast. What the fuck just happened? ***** Sold to a cursed beast by her wicked father and stepmother as a sacrifice, Mirella concludes that it is the end to her miserable life. However, the unexpected happens - instead of being killed she's marked and claimed by the beast Kaelen! Now she is seen as the only hope for the Alpha's cure, and she's suddenly made the Luna of the pack and his wife. Determined to break the curse and free him so he can let her go, Mirella risks everything. Along the line, things get blurry, and feelings begin to grow for this strange beast... But their happiness comes at a price, a price that Mirella isn't sure she is willing to pay. With the clock ticking down to a dangerous final choice, Mirella must decide whether to save the Alpha or not. Will Mirella abandon the wolf her heart yearns for, or will she risk her life to save his?

(DAILY UPDATING) Adriana is the forgotten daughter of the Alpha of the Red Moon Pack. Her father barely acknowledges her, her sister despises her, and the mate she loved for five years chose power over her-by sleeping with that very sister. But Adriana has a secret. A rare white wolf. A power she's been forced to hide. When she unexpectedly crosses paths with the Lycan King, she doesn't know he is her father's greatest enemy... or her second-chance mate. Elijah never planned to bond again. Betrayed once and now raising a silent son alone, he has no interest in love. But there's something different about Adriana. Something powerful. Something his wolf refuses to ignore. As tension between wolves and lycans rises, secrets begin to unravel and claiming her may mean starting a war. This time, Adriana won't be the weak daughter they overlooked.

The sharp smell of antiseptic and decay burned my nostrils as I dug through another bin of medical waste. My surgical scrubs—once pristine white—were now stained with unidentifiable smears of red and yellow. Five years of rigorous training had taught me to keep my composure under pressure, but right now, I was dangerously close to losing it. "Where is it?" I muttered, tossing aside a blood-soaked gauze pad. "It has to be here." The pathology report had been misplaced by a new intern—a rookie mistake that could cost my patient weeks of crucial treatment time. Without that report confirming the cancer markers, we'd have to start the testing process all over again. Mrs. Peterson didn't have weeks to spare. "You're contaminating yourself, Dr. Morgan," said Marcus Chen, the anesthesiologist who'd volunteered to help me search.

The shrill ring of my phone pierced through the quiet Valentine's morning. I fumbled for it on my nightstand, squinting at the unfamiliar number flashing across the screen. "Hello?" I answered, my voice still rough with sleep. "Is this Olivia Bennett?" The woman's voice was professional, measured. "Yes, this is she." I sat up, pushing my hair out of my face. Ethan's side of the bed was empty—again. He'd been working late a lot lately. Or so he said. "This is Sarah Mitchell from Sensations Boutique." A pause. "We have your fiancé's order ready for delivery, but I'm calling because there seems to be a mix-up with the shipping address." My heart stuttered.

“You kissed me like forever—then disappeared like I was nothing.” “I left because I loved you too much to break you.” “Then why am I still in pieces?” Jude Queens never believed in fairytales—not when real life had already shown him how easily people leave. But then came Malachi Flynn: cocky, sunlit, and electric on the volleyball court. Together, they were unstoppable. Off the court? Something even deeper was blooming—something undeniable. But just when Jude finally let himself believe in them, Malachi vanished. No message. No warning. Just gone. Two years later, Malachi walks back into Jude’s life with the same heart-wrecking smile—and eyes that look like they’ve lived through war. Jude swore he’d never let Malachi in again… but desire doesn’t die quietly. And neither does love. Now Jude must confront the boy who broke his heart—and the truth Malachi never had the courage to say. Because sometimes, the greatest love stories are the ones that almost didn’t happen. --- Perfect for fans of slow burn, angsty reunions, and BL stories where every glance carries heat and every silence holds a secret. This is "Why Did You Leave Me When I Needed You Most?" — a second-chance romance that dares to ask: Can love survive the one who walked away?

The fever hit me like a freight train around noon. By evening, I was burning at 103 degrees, my skin slick with sweat, the silk sheets of our king-sized bed clinging to my trembling body. The floor-to-ceiling windows of our Manhattan condo framed the glittering skyline, but all I could focus on was the fire raging through my veins and the ice settling in my chest. "Lukas, please." My voice came out hoarse, barely above a whisper. "Don't go." He stood by the bedroom door, his phone pressed to his ear, that designer watch I'd given him for our anniversary catching the lamplight. Three years together, and I'd memorized every angle of his face—the sharp jawline, the way his dark hair fell just so across his forehead. Right now, his expression was carved from stone. "I have to," he said, not even looking at me. His thumb moved across the screen. "The bartender at Flux called.

He was her husband's worst nightmare. Now he’s her only escape. When Selene's picture-perfect marriage shatters and her husband tries to sell her to the mafia to settle his debts, it's Ronan Blackwood—cold, dangerous, and filthy rich—who steps in. Not to save her. To claim her. “You were never his, Selene. You’ve always been mine.” Now locked in his penthouse and tangled in his world of power, blood, and obsession, Selene must decide: fight him—or fall for the devil who just might own her heart.

Like dancers on a silk thread... That's how you and I were... And that's how our lives together were... Every step I took brought me closer to you, even if it was against my will... Everything about you led me towards the abyss of your love. Starting with the emerald glow in your eyes that made me lose my will... And the forest of your hair inhabited by the night and blowing wild perfume storms, and ending with my captive heart with you since eternity. My magical, mythical queen, your dance pushed me to the edge... to the point of no return... So come with me, you emerald glow. But I must first admit that I love you... and if I had power over my heart, I would have made it stop beating in your name... but he is the greatest traitor. Yes, everything betrayed me for you... My eyes betrayed me when I looked at you against my will... My mind betrayed me when it thought of you, even though I forbade it from it repeatedly... And the toughest is that heart that loved you and turned its pocket into whispers in your name until it lost its regularity Its beats...so I ask you to drench my heart with the fragrance of your love, to bring life back to its dead passion...and to return to it the escaping pulse.. And as I started with you a dance... And as the forces of tension and attraction dominated our relationship as an eternal tango... We had one passion... one love... and the most, one life... Will you permit me to dance, madam?

Clara had to die once to see who truly surrounded her-traitors and opportunists everywhere. After her rebirth, she swore to make her enemies pay. Her fiancé mocked, "You think you deserve me?" She punched him and ended the engagement. Her stepsister played innocent, but Clara shut her down with a cold retort. "Stop pretending! I'm tired of your little act!" They called her a loser, but Clara didn't bother defending herself. Instead, she revealed her real power: superstar, racing champion, and secret mogul. When her masks fell, chaos erupted. Her ex begged, and the crime lord claimed her, but Clara had already conquered them all.

My husband brought his mistress into the care center and forced me to wash her feet. He had forgotten everything about our marriage after an accident five years ago, treating me like a defective servant while doting on Jada. But I endured it, hoping his memory would return. Until Jada’s twin boys sprayed me with "water guns" filled with concentrated Wolfsbane acid. As my skin sizzled and melted, Jada screamed that I was using witchcraft to curse her children. Jake didn't check my wounds. He didn't ask for the truth. He looked at me with cold, dead eyes and ordered the guards to bring the Silver Muzzle. "This will teach you silence," he whispered. He clamped the torture device onto my face. The silver spikes instantly fused to my burned skin, sealing my mouth shut in agony. He then hung me from the ceiling, letting me swing there as a warning to the pack, while I bled out. I looked down at him, my heart finally breaking. How could the man who was once my soulmate torture me for a woman who smelled of rot and lies? I closed my eyes and triggered the rejection bond. *I reject you, Jake Foster.* The moment the bond snapped, the front doors exploded inward. A massive force of pure power crushed every wolf in the room to the floor. The Supreme Alpha had arrived. And he wasn't happy that someone had touched his Fated Mate.

My husband, Andre Grimes, was a newly-elected senator, and I was a celebrated chef pregnant with our first child. On the night of his victory, our world was supposed to be perfect. Instead, I watched him on live TV, his arm around his pregnant mistress, as he announced their relationship to the world. He then looked into the camera and called my own pregnancy a lie, a fabrication to create a scandal. His powerful family, along with my own adoptive parents, locked me in our home. They moved his mistress into my bedroom and planned to force me to have an abortion to protect his career. His mother looked at me with cold eyes. "It's for the best, Kyra. No loose ends." I was trapped, betrayed by everyone, facing the murder of my unborn child. But they made one mistake: they gave me back my phone. With trembling hands, I found a long-forgotten number and dialed. A man's voice answered. "My name is Kyra Moore," I choked out. "I think you might be my father. They're going to take my baby."

Clara was the despised fake heiress of the wealthy Price family. For years, she endured their coldness, desperately trying to please her adoptive mother and her fiancé, Preston. But a sudden, terrifying vision of an alternate timeline shattered her reality. In that life, the real heiress, Bria, framed Clara for stealing a priceless antique pearl earring. Her adoptive family chose blood over loyalty, watching coldly as Preston publicly dumped her. Clara was thrown out without a penny, hunted down by hitmen Bria hired, and died a miserable, lonely death. Now, as the agonizing memories faded, Clara found herself back in the exact moment the nightmare began. Bria was whimpering in Preston's arms, while the family matriarch slammed her cane against the floor. "You will call Preston," Eleanor ordered, her voice cold and absolute. "You will cancel the engagement yourself." They expected her to panic and beg. They expected her to cry over the family that never loved her and the man whose bankrupt tech company she had secretly saved with her own code. Why should she suffer for their greed? Why should she let a venomous sister and a useless fiancé destroy her life when she possessed the lethal combat skills of a brutal alternate reality? This time, Clara didn't shed a single tear. She yanked off the five-carat diamond ring, threw it onto the table, and publicly broadcasted the secret audio of Bria's vicious setup. Then, she packed a single bag and walked out the door, ready to crush anyone who stood in her way.

I came home exhausted from an eighteen-hour hospital shift, just wanting to rest in the bed my husband of three years rarely shared with me. Instead, I found his mistress sprawled on our bedroom floor in a pool of stage blood, holding a knife and screaming that I had pushed her and killed her baby. My husband, Kian, rushed in. He didn't care that I was still in my wrinkled scrubs, nor did he look at the blatantly fake ultrasound she threw on the floor. "Shut up, you vicious bitch." He shoved me out of the way so hard that my head cracked open against the sharp marble fireplace. As real blood gushed down my face and blinded me, he simply scooped her up and walked out, leaving me bleeding on the floor while the house staff watched in disgust. As I lay there gasping, my medical training cut through the haze. The chronic weakness and dizzy spells I'd suffered for months weren't from overwork. Kian had been slowly poisoning me. I had played the meek, invisible wife for three years, enduring his coldness and his cheating. I didn't understand how the man I married could not only frame me, but actively try to murder me just to clear the way for his secret lover. I dragged myself up, stitched my own torn scalp without a single tear, and pulled out my hidden military-grade laptop. I signed the divorce papers to claim my guaranteed half of his ten-billion-dollar trust fund, and logged back into my old hacker alias. The meek wife was dead.

Trilogía Carluccio: Libro 1. Una madre para mi hijo. Libro 2. El padre de mis hijos. Libro 3. El hijo de la reina de la mafia. Alexandre Carluccio regresa a Italia después de veinte años, con el único objetivo de vengar a todos aquellos que intentaron asesinar a su abuelo, sin imaginar que en medio de esta guerra que se ha desatado por obtener el poder, encontrará algo más que venganza. Yelizaveta Belucci, es en apariencia una chica frágil que necesita ser protegida por todos aquellos que se cruzan con ella, nadie imagina que debajo de esos ojos verdes se esconde una mujer peligrosa y tan despiadada como su padre, uno de los más grandes capos de Italia. Un amor tierno y pasional que pondrá en peligro la vida de ambos, pero que los llevará a conocer el amor verdadero.

After the SATs, Remy told me he'd blown his score and asked me to apply to a smaller college in Chicago with him. I lied to my parents, saying I mistakenly submitted the wrong college preference. But at the party, he wrapped his arm around the prom queen and made an announcement. "Alessandra and I both got into the University of Virginia in Charlottesville, it's the only prestigious university there." A classmate asked, "What about Luisa?" Remy looked at me with a teasing smile. "Luisa, I was just joking. You didn't take it seriously, did you?" "You want to go to the same school as me? Just retake the exams; you're the academic star after all." Later, when he didn’t see me in the summer prep class, he got anxious. "Luisa, you’re not interested in going to the same school as me anymore?" --- The day I received my acceptance letter, Remy called me specifically. "Are you coming to the dinner party tonight? I've got a surprise to share with you.