
Shattered Mate Bond: The Secret Hacker Luna's Vengeance
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After spending five grueling years securing the Madden Pack's empire, I thought my Alpha mate and I were finally building a perfect family.
But on my birthday, I returned home to find a thick, impenetrable wall of ice in our Mate bond.
Caden had completely shut me out to throw a lavish party for my half-sister, Adalynn.
He let Adalynn pollute our penthouse with her cheap perfume and brainwash my five-year-old daughter, Elara.
"Auntie Adalynn is a million times better than Mommy!"
Elara chirped happily to a camera, while Caden watched with a doting smile.
He publicly humiliated me, commanded the servants to ignore me, and deliberately fed Elara severe allergens just to spite my maternal rules.
When my pup ended up in the pack hospital gasping for air, Caden confiscated her tablet and roared at her to stop crying for the mother who "abandoned" her.
My heart shattered into a million irreparable pieces.
I couldn't understand how the man destined to protect my soul could twist my love into cruelty and use our helpless cub as a punching bag for his ego.
But the weeping, pathetic Luna died right there.
I calmly signed the divorce papers, surrendered all my assets, and walked out into the cold night.
Opening my encrypted laptop, I reclaimed my hidden identity as the global elite hacker "Ghost" and initiated a lethal protocol.
It was time to burn his entire world to the ground.
Shattered Mate Bond: The Secret Hacker Luna's Vengeance Chapter 1
Eulalie POV
The sliding glass doors of JFK's Terminal 4 parted, spitting me out into the biting October chill. I pulled my beige cardigan tighter around my shoulders, my eyes scanning the VIP pickup zone. A line of sleek black town cars idled against the curb, but the Madden Pack's signature Maybach was nowhere to be seen.
I closed my eyes and reached into my mind, searching for the familiar, golden thread of my mate bond. Caden? I called through the mind-link.
Silence. Not just silence, but a thick, impenetrable wall of ice. He had deliberately shut me out.
I had just spent a grueling week in futile negotiations trying to save my former pack, the Moon Pack, from financial ruin. As the Luna of the Madden Pack, I should have been greeted by my Alpha mate, or at least a pack warrior. Instead, my phone screen remained blank. No messages. No missed calls.
Swallowing the bitter taste of public humiliation, I ordered an Uber. The ride back to Manhattan was a blur of gray highways, the interior of the Toyota Camry suffocating me with the cloying scent of a vanilla air freshener. It felt like a cruel joke—a Luna, reduced to riding in a stranger's car like a forgotten, wolfless omega.
A secret part of me—the part I had buried for five years—whispered that I had other resources, other paths. But using them would mean revealing everything. And I wasn't ready. Not yet.
The human doorman at our Fifth Avenue building offered a polite nod, but it only amplified my isolation. I stepped into the private elevator, watching my pale, exhausted reflection in the polished brass doors as I ascended to the penthouse.
The moment the doors chimed open into the foyer, my wolf senses were assaulted.
It wasn't the comforting, authoritative sandalwood scent of my Alpha that hit me first. It was a cheap, aggressive, synthetic rose perfume. Adalynn. My half-sister.
Her scent was everywhere, clinging to the walls, polluting my territory. Scattered across the marble floor were colorful tissue papers and satin ribbons. Beside the console table, Caden's Italian leather shoes sat intimately next to a pair of glittery sneakers belonging to my five-year-old daughter, Elara.
I walked quietly toward the living room, bathed in the warm, golden glow of the chandelier. What I saw froze the blood in my veins.
Sitting on the Persian rug were Caden and Elara. Between them sat a massive, garish plush unicorn made of cheap synthetic fibers. They were tying a pink ribbon around its neck. My heart plummeted. It was the exact same toy I had tried to buy for Elara three months ago, only for Caden to coldly reject it, claiming the cheap material would trigger her allergies.
"Auntie Adalynn says unicorns are magic!" Elara giggled, her pure, sweet cub scent mixing with the sickening rose perfume. "She says they're a million times better than Mommy's boring stories."
The words twisted like a silver blade in my chest. My own pup, corrupted by the woman who had always tried to steal what was mine.
My shoe scuffed against the hardwood. Caden's head snapped up.
There was no relief in his eyes at the sight of his fated mate. His powerful Alpha aura flared, heavy and suffocating, laced with the distinct irritation of his inner wolf, Rage. I was an interruption. A nuisance in my own home.
"You're back early," he stated, his voice devoid of warmth.
I stared at the man who had marked me, the man whose soul was supposed to be tied to mine. "Caden," I whispered, my voice trembling as I clung to a desperate, foolish hope. "Do you know what today is? It's October 14th."
My birthday.
He didn't even blink. His mind was entirely consumed by the party he was throwing for Adalynn. He stood up, his massive frame casting a long shadow over me, and reached down to take Elara's hand.
"Come on, Elara. We need to get this to the party," he said, completely ignoring my words.
He walked right past me. The brush of his shoulder against mine didn't spark the usual electric thrill of the mate bond; it felt like brushing against a stranger. He was leaving me standing alone in a cold, empty nest tainted by another female's scent.
Deep within the darkest recesses of my soul, something snapped. The agonizing heartbreak and the primal, maternal instinct to protect my cub collided. The whimpering ceased. A chilling, dead calm washed over my veins. Nyx, my dormant White Wolf, opened her icy blue eyes in the dark.
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Shattered Mate Bond: The Secret Hacker Luna's Vengeance of Contents
Chapter 1 Ch. 1Chapter 2 Ch. 2Chapter 3 Ch. 3Chapter 4 Ch. 4Chapter 5 Ch. 5Chapter 6 Ch. 6Chapter 7 Ch. 7Chapter 8 Ch. 8
Chapter 9 Ch. 9
Chapter 10 Ch. 10
Chapter 11 Ch. 11
All Chapters all
New Release Novels

7.3
I found out my husband of three years had cheated on me and his mistress is the one who told me-because he didn't have the balls to do it himself.
I move out and get a new apartment, a job as a bartender, and try to move on with a broken heart. I wonder where it all went wrong, if I hadn't been enough for him, if I'd been stupid for marrying him in the first place.
I'm at work one night when he walks inside-the most beautiful man I've ever seen. He sits at the bar and a forest fire burns between us. I was depressed the moment before he entered, but the second I look at his blue eyes, I forget the dumpster fire that my life has become. I invite him back to my place and it's the most passionate night of my life. I expect to never see him again.
I just want him as an anti-depressant-but he wants me all to himself. I just got my heart ripped out of my chest so I want something easy and no-strings-attached, but he wants all the strings because he's hooked.
I don't get much of a say in the matter, and that's not surprising when I learn why-because he's the Butcher. The crime lord of all crime lords, the boss that overshadows all of Paris, that makes everyone abide by his rules-or pay.
And now I'm his.

8.8
Clara supported her boyfriend Leo for four years, paying his rent and buying his headshots while working dead-end extra gigs.
On his twenty-sixth birthday, she caught him in their bed with Veronica, a wealthy producer's daughter who constantly stole Clara's roles.
Leo mocked Clara as a "pathetic, poor stepping stone" who was just there until he got his foot in the door.
Veronica threatened to ruin Clara's career forever.
Clara dumped him, packed her bags, and impulsively entered a contract marriage with a cold stranger she met at City Hall.
But her nightmare wasn't over.
When her mother suddenly needed a $200,000 emergency brain surgery, Clara was forced to take a demeaning extra gig to survive.
There, Veronica and her starlet friend cornered Clara.
They mocked her cheap clothes, ridiculed her new wedding ring as fake glass, and intentionally poured scalding coffee on her feet.
"Well, maid, you better clean that up."
Veronica laughed, forcing Clara to her knees to wipe up the burning liquid while snapping photos.
Clara swallowed her burning humiliation, secretly recording their abuse on her phone.
She endured the pain, desperate for the $300 day rate to save her mother's life, feeling entirely crushed by their overwhelming wealth and power.
What she didn't know was that outside the soundstage, her new contract husband—the man she thought was just a struggling, broke tech worker—was sitting in a sleek black Maybach.
He watched his wife kneeling on the floor, and his dark eyes filled with a lethal, terrifying rage.

7.4
I was freezing to death in an abandoned cabin, desperately waiting for my fiancé to save me.
Instead, my phone flickered with a video from my adopted sister.
She was smiling as she confessed that she and my fiancé had orchestrated my kidnapping, and my parents' fatal plane crash, just to steal my family's trust fund.
When I called him with my dying breath, he mocked me for faking a PR stunt and hung up.
I died in the sub-zero blizzard, consumed by absolute despair.
But as a ghost, I watched my greatest business rival, the ruthless billionaire Collins, kick down the doors of my mansion.
He didn't just mourn me.
He shot my fiancé, trapped my sister, and set the entire place on fire, choosing to burn alive in the inferno just to avenge me.
I couldn't understand why the man I had publicly despised for a decade loved me so fiercely, while the people I gave everything to wanted me dead.
Opening my eyes again, I was back backstage on the night I won my Oscar, four years ago.
My fiancé smiled, holding out his arms to hug me.
I pushed him away in disgust, marched straight into the crowded theater, and kissed my billionaire rival on live television.
"Let's get married tomorrow."
This time, I would use him to burn them all to the ground.

8.6
To save my father's failing workshop from ruthless loan sharks, I sold one year of my life.
I signed a fake marriage contract with Cameron Fox, an icy billionaire who needed a wife to pacify his sick grandmother. The rules were strict: it was purely a commercial transaction, with absolutely no physical contact and no emotional attachments.
Soon after, that cold hearted man seemed different to me. Wait, is he pursuing me?

7.2
Dr. Kylee Mcdonald was a brilliant medical examiner whose life was defined by cold, mechanical precision.
But that perfect control shattered when her phone rang in the middle of an autopsy.
It was her best friend, Dana, whispering their old college distress code.
"Curtain call."
By the time Kylee and Detective Justice kicked down Dana's door, she lay dead on her couch, her skin a horrifying cherry-red from cyanide.
The crime scene was clumsily staged to frame a billionaire suitor, but soon, every single suspect linked to Dana turned up violently dead.
Internal Affairs pointed the finger at Kylee, accusing her of using her medical expertise to become a vigilante serial killer.
But the encrypted truth Kylee uncovered was far more chilling.
Dana had been severely abused by her boyfriend, and driven to the edge, she manipulated him into murdering their tormentors before executing him and taking her own life.
To avoid a public scandal, the police chief buried Dana's brilliant, terrifying manifesto.
Kylee's flawless mind short-circuited. She was a genius at reading the dead, so why had she been completely blind to the living hell her best friend endured right in front of her?
Three days later, while attending a formal gala to numb her grief, a nearby apartment building exploded in flames.
As Kylee examined the charred bodies pulled from the rubble, she realized the male victim was strangled long before the fire started.
She looked at the surviving mother, whose baby had just died in the blast, but the woman's eyes were completely, terrifyingly empty.
The alarm bells in Kylee's meticulously ordered brain began to chime, signaling that a new, deadly script had just begun.

8.8
My little boy died on the operating table during a minor, routine surgery.
That exact same night, my billionaire husband bought out the Hudson River for a massive, million-dollar fireworks show.
It wasn't to mourn our child. It was to celebrate his first love's son being discharged from the hospital.
When I confronted him with our son's death certificate, he sneered and accused me of hiding the boy to get his attention.
He held his mistress in our home, watched her fake a panic attack, and threatened to bankrupt my family if I didn't get on my knees and apologize to her.
But the most horrifying truth came from a terrified hospital nurse.
My son's anesthesia was deliberately kept low during the procedure to keep his tissue viable to save the mistress's child.
He was awake and in agonizing pain while his own father planned a grand celebration for another man's son.
I couldn't understand how a father could be so completely heartless.
How could he sacrifice his own flesh and blood just to please a woman who constantly manipulated him?
Looking at the ashes on my son's favorite toy, my paralyzing grief evaporated, replaced by a cold, unyielding rage.
I arranged my little boy's funeral alone in the freezing rain, left my wedding ring on the counter, and walked straight into the private hotel suite of my husband's most ruthless business rival.
"Let's take him down," I said.











