5996 Book(s) Related to enslaved by my alpha mate

In the apocalyptic freeze, temperatures plummeted to seventy below zero. The earth was encased in ice, and ice beasts roamed everywhere.

I risked my life to scavenge for food, covered in wounds, enduring cold and hunger, leaving all our meager supplies for my parents and brother.

I thought blood was thicker than water, that all the suffering and hardship was worth it.

But I never imagined that when our resources ran out, the family I'd protected with my life would reveal their true beastly nature. They ambushed and knocked me unconscious, tied me to an ice pillar, planning to use me as food rations—to eat me alive.

At the moment of near death, the ice jade my grandfather left me suddenly shattered. I awakened top-tier ice abilities, commanding frost and snow, controlling the extreme cold.

My kindness had been frozen to death by the bitter cold. Family meant nothing.

Those who betrayed me, deceived me, and tried to eat me—I wouldn't spare a single one.

My name is Brianna, Luna of the Sapphire Pack.
I used to think Warren Crawford was the best husband and father in the world.
Until the night of the full moon. My six-year-old daughter, Lydia, was slapped in public by him and locked in a dungeon—all for taking a piece of apple tart.
He claimed locking her up was to save a life.
Three years ago, Beta Roman took a fatal blade for Warren, leaving behind his widow, Lorelei, and their daughter, Clarissa. Now Clarissa was diagnosed with bone cancer, and the only matching trial subject was my Lydia.
My own husband personally sent our daughter onto the operating table.
I knelt outside the operating room, bashing my forehead against the floor until I bled, but he dismissed it as me making a scene.
Covered in blood, I rushed into the VIP ward holding a dying Lydia, begging him to save her. Instead, he ordered his guards to throw us out into the cold street.
Lydia died in my arms. Her last words were: "Mommy, if I die, will Daddy like me just a little bit?"
I had no answer for her.
At that very moment, her father was sitting in a VIP ward, peeling grapes for another woman’s daughter.
I spent three days handling my daughter’s funeral alone.
When I pushed open the front door holding her urn, I was greeted by a sky filled with confetti and balloons. My husband was hosting a lavish birthday party for that woman’s child.

Two hours before the apocalypse, my fiancée stole my gray wolf and giant bear and gave them to a rich second-generation, leaving me only a dying ornamental fish.
"Go and wait to die in the apocalypse with your worthless fish!" she laughed triumphantly, thinking she had seized an invincible trump card.
I almost burst out laughing on the spot.
In their past lives, they died too young and had no idea that without absolute power, mutated beasts would only tear their masters apart first! They also didn't know that the golden dragonfish she had discarded as trash was the true ruler of the late apocalypse!
As the crimson rain of radiation fell, I coldly fed the "Sea God" that had begun to emit an eerie glow. Since you're all eager to pave the way with your lives, then I'll gladly accept the ultimate evolutionary law of the apocalypse!

A vicious-looking hit man, six foot three, was hunting me down.

I hid in a storage room at the mall.

With just a door between us, I suddenly heard what he was thinking.

[Damn it! Where did that rich girl in the white dress and the flat-brimmed hat go?]

[I need to finish this job. I've got a date with my girl!]

[Three whole years before she'd agree to meet me. I have to make this count. I have to make a good impression!]

[Nora. My Nora Blake. My baby. Hehehe.]

I froze.

Nora Blake... That was me.

Tricked onto a wilderness survival reality show, I was forced to act as my fake sister’s backdrop to protect the elderly woman who raised me. My fake sister constantly staged tricks for clout, and my blood brother threatened me with fatal consequences to sweep the family’s skeletons under the rug. I stopped surrendering and uncovered scam after scam during the live broadcast. The Hart family sought to erase my past. Instead, I laid all their shameful secrets bare for the world to see.

I lived on peanut butter sandwiches for three months to buy my boyfriend the sneakers he wanted for Valentine’s Day.
Then I found them in a trash can.
While I waited alone at our dinner reservation, Cole was across town throwing a party for his “best bro,” Sienna. He fastened a sapphire necklace around her neck, laughed about the night his friends left me stranded on a mountain, and bet that I’d never leave him. After all, I was just a broke girl from Ohio, and he was the Whitmore heir.
For three years, I split every check to prove I wasn’t a gold digger. He sent me a Venmo request for my fever medicine, down to the cent.
Then he fired me in front of the whole office, and his bestie tripped me on my way out.
Cole thinks I’ll come crawling back. Sienna thinks she’s won.
They have no idea what I can do with one voice message and four witnesses.

I've been married to my husband Jake for three years. In that time, I've been pregnant twice.

But each time, I lost the baby.

What took my children wasn't a medical condition, but a painting.

A black bird, painted by Jake's ten-year-old blind brother, Billy.

My in-laws claimed he had the gift—a psychic born with sight beyond sight. And the black bird was an omen. It marked my baby as cursed, a threat to the family.

To save my second child, I got the best amniocentesis report money could buy, proving the baby had no genetic defects.

It happened again anyway.

At three in the morning, I woke to the agony of another miscarriage and stumbled to the studio door.

That's when I found out the truth.

The Castellano family had a rule: before you turned twenty, you had to name a sponsor, someone who would vouch for you before the family.

Most people put down a parent. Some chose their fiancé. My parents had died years ago, so I put down Rafael. He was the Don of the Castellano family, and the man who had taken me in at twelve and raised me.

The next day, he sent the form back just as I’d filled it out. All he said was, “Fill it out again.”

When I asked why, his answer was cold. “Wren, I’m your adoptive father. That’s all. The way you feel about me isn’t appropriate.”

He thought I was in love with him.

From that day on, he took away every privilege I had. I was barred from the main house. He blocked my number and ordered his assistant never to mention me. When I tried to see him, the guards stopped me at the gate. “The Don won’t see you.”

After that, whenever we crossed paths at family gatherings, he turned and walked away.

Six months later, I was diagnosed with an incurable brain disease. The doctor said I had thirty days at most.

The High Fae were facing extinction, their bloodlines withering away.

Valerius, the Prince of the Shadow Realm, was a terrifying force of nature—ruthless and utterly cold.

I am Ella, a mere human who accidentally fell into a Shadow Rift, a mortal girl with nothing but survival on my mind.

Left with no other choice, I snuck into this shadow prince's bed in the dead of night.

On the day he pierced my chest to take my heart-blood to save the Witch Princess, I faked my death and ran away—carrying his half-Fae babies in my belly.

Years later, I was busy preening the starry wings of my seven little miracles.

He found me, dropping to his knees, as pathetic and desperate as an abandoned hound.

"Ella... do you really not want me anymore?"

When the car crashed, I took the brunt of the deadly, mangled steel for my brother, Damon, letting half of my face be sheared off and my spine destroyed.

When I woke up in the intensive care unit, he mercilessly tossed an Engagement Termination Agreement onto my hospital bed.

"You're disfigured now, practically a paralyzed cripple. Give Julian up to Lily."

"She's beautiful, healthy, and she's always been in love with him. Having her take your place at the wedding is the best option right now."

The hospital room door wasn't fully closed. I could clearly hear him and our adopted sister, Lily, whispering out in the hallway.

"Damon, you deliberately caused that crash just so I could replace her in the marriage alliance. What if she finds out?"

Damon's tone was indifferent. "She grew up stealing the spotlight as the family heir. Giving Julian to you is the least she can do. Once she signs the papers, I'll put her in the best private nursing home. Consider it compensation."

I bit down hard on my cracked lips. Tears smashed against the deep, bone-exposing lacerations on my face, burning so intensely it made me want to carve the flesh right off.

Lily's sweet voice drifted in: "I'll make sure to compensate her in the future, too."

But Damon, even if I don't sign, you'll both get exactly what you want very soon.

Because the doctor just told me that my body has gone into multiple organ failure due to the severe trauma. I only have a few days left to live.

For fifty years, I bathed in blood for my world, only to return home to find my wife dead and my daughter about to be sacrificed.
The High Priest stepped on my daughter’s head, branding me a traitor, and declared he would burn her to ashes. Scarred, broken, and with my magic depleted, I was bound to the pyre alongside her. Tens of thousands cursed us from below as the flames engulfed the stage.
Weeping, my daughter asked me, "Daddy, are you really a hero?"
I crushed the pendant on my chest.
Dragons, Dwarves, Berserkers—the million-strong allied army I had united over those fifty years descended across dimensions.
The High Priest slumped to the ground, trembling uncontrollably. "Who... who exactly are you?"
Staring into his eyes, I said only one thing:
"Dragons have reverse scales; touch them, and you die. You crossed the line!"

My daughter is fighting for her life in the ICU. The mother of the boy who put her there just offered me two million dollars and an NDA.
To prove she’s untouchable, she flaunted an ultra-exclusive black card.
But she made one fatal mistake.
I recognize that card. I designed it. Because she is my husband’s mistress—and she’s using my money to cover up my daughter’s tragedy.
She wanted to buy my silence. Now, I’m buying her son’s life.

For eight years of our hidden marriage, Caelen never publicly acknowledged my existence, nor our daughter Harper's.
On our daughter's eighth birthday, he threw a spectacular, city-wide welcome banquet for his childhood sweetheart, Seraphina, and her son, Leo.
Watching the glaringly perfect picture they painted as a "family of three," I suggested to my daughter that it was time to leave.
Harper, her eyes red, tugged at my shirt hem and pleaded, "Mommy, can we give Daddy three more days? Just three. If he still doesn't love me by then, we'll go."
Caelen had no idea that those three days were his final countdown as a father.

After my twin sister and I were accepted into the same elite university, our parents fully sponsored the freshman welcome banquet.

They told the university president, "This way, even at school, they can feel that parents will always be their unconditional support."

On the night of the banquet, my mother pressed a piece of paper into my hand.

"Elara, go to the podium. Read the address, and while you're at it, introduce your sister's upcoming toast. She needs the spotlight tonight."

Forcing down the tremors of an impending panic attack, I nodded submissively. "Thank you, Mother and Father, for arranging all of this. I'll read it right now."

Just as I was about to turn and read the address, a voice called out, stopping me.

"Elara, read the gratitude statement first. Remember, there's no such thing as a free dinner."

My father's voice cut through from the main table, ringing with an undeniable tone of command.

I froze at the podium.

Even though it was a perfectly heated banquet hall...

I felt a bone-chilling frost.

My mate, Valerius, was struck by a soul-splitting curse from hunters, fracturing him into a dual personality.

The rabid persona is brutal and cold-blooded. His heart holds only his childhood sweetheart, and he casts me aside like worthless trash.

Yet, when lucid, he is my deeply devoted lover—the man who sees me as his absolute salvation.

But the man who deeply loves me is slipping away.

It culminated on the night of the hunter ambush.

I dragged my shattered leg, barely surviving a sea of fire. Yet, to comfort his startled childhood sweetheart, he turned his back and walked away.

In the moment he left, I finally let go.

Because the eyes that had just abandoned me for her... were the deep, dark gold of his lucid state.

Later, when I accepted a deal to erase all traces of my existence and give them their happy ending, he completely lost his mind...

"Sorry, boss's strict orders. No one is to disturb the top floor tonight."
The bodyguards blocked my way, their guns aimed right at me. I was Dante's wife, standing there holding the soup I'd made for his stomach, yet I was being treated like a trespasser.
I ignored them and forced my way in anyway. Through the crack in the door, I saw everything perfectly clear. Dante didn't draw his gun on the woman who had once kidnapped me. Instead, the notoriously cold-blooded crime boss was using his personal handkerchief to patiently bandage her bleeding palm.

My husband, Daniel Whitmore, loves watching me lose my temper over Natalie. His childhood best friend. Every time I get jealous, he tells me it only means I love him more.

So every anniversary, Natalie gets to play "Mrs. Whitmore" for a few days, and our friends bet on how many hours pass before I snap.

The first year, Natalie puts on my nightgown and curls up in Daniel's arms for a photo. I'm livid — I snatch it right out of her hand. Daniel just laughs, kisses me, and says he always knew I'd never leave him.

The second year, he gives Natalie our bedroom and sends me to the guest room. He only lets me back in after he finds me crying outside the door. Then he whispers that she's leaving after one night.

Last year, Daniel brings Natalie to family dinner. She takes my usual chair, and his parents let themselves call her their daughter-in-law. I stand up to go. He stops me. "They're just teasing. Do you really have to blow this out of proportion?"

This year, they go bigger. Natalie pulls up to our house with a rolling suitcase and digs out the spare key. In front of all our friends, she tilts her head. "Daniel said I can be Mrs. Whitmore for seven days. You won't be mad at me, will you?" Daniel drops an arm around her shoulders and looks straight at me. If she really loves him, she'll get jealous.

Everyone expects the usual show — me sobbing, making a scene, Daniel laughing it off and calling the game done.

But this time, I walk back to our bedroom on my own and pack my bags. At the door, I lay my wedding ring and my house key in his hand.

"Seven days is too short. Tell her she can have my place. Permanently."

When my mafia husband moved his brother's widow and son into our home, I didn't shed a tear or throw a fit. Instead, I quietly packed our bags.

"It's hard for Alessia to raise a boy alone," I told him, not meeting his eyes. "My daughter and I will move out so you can take better care of them."

Later, on my daughter's birthday, my husband gifted her a vintage model car. The widow's son threw a massive tantrum for it.

Without a fuss, my little girl calmly handed it over.

"Papa said since you don't have a father anymore, he is your father now," she said softly. "I'm older. You can have it."

My husband was deeply pleased with our generosity. Yet, over time, he realized something was wrong.

I no longer looked at him with love. His daughter no longer reached for his hand.

He didn't know the truth. In my past life, his twisted devotion to that mother and son had literally killed us.

He threw us out into a blizzard, hoarding all the family's medical supplies and rations for them. He left us to freeze and starve to death in the snow.

Reborn, we won't fight them for him anymore.

Because we will never need Dante Moretti again.

My daughter was murdered on her eleventh birthday during a brutal snuff livestream on the dark web.

The chat was flooded with the sick revelry and obscene tips of twisted buyers.

"Break her legs a little more."
"I want to hear her cry out."

Lying in a pool of blood, my daughter cried out in sheer despair: "Mom... save me... it hurts so much..."

Watching my daughter take her last breath amid violent convulsions, I clawed at my own fingers until they were torn and bloody.

The police told me it was her elegant ballet instructor, Serena, who had sent her to hell. And the one who helped Serena cover her tracks was my husband, David.

In my utter despair, I swallowed an entire bottle of sleeping pills.

When I opened my eyes again, I had been thrown back to the very day I was supposed to take my daughter to her ballet class.

Sitting in the passenger seat, dressed in her ballet tutu, my daughter looked at me with eyes full of anticipation.

"Hurry up, Mom. Ms. Serena said we're rehearsing the solo for Swan Lake today."

The blood in my veins instantly ran cold.

I was forced by my father to fulfill an arranged engagement I'd never met face-to-face.

Pushing open the private room door, I found my fiancé Tristan celebrating his secretary Clara's birthday.

"Security! Get this beggar out of here!" Clara screamed, pointing at me.

When I revealed my identity, Tristan sneered coldly: "What bullshit engagement? I would never marry a woman like you."

Clara poured red wine over my head: "Kneel down and lick it clean!"

When I fought back, Tristan exploded in rage: "How dare you touch my woman? Hold her down!"

Four bodyguards pinned me down as Clara started a live stream: "Let everyone see this delusional bitch who doesn't know her place!"

They tore at my clothes while Tristan watched coldly, even urging them on: "Hurry up, let everyone see her true face."

Just as I was about to be completely humiliated, the door suddenly burst open—

"Do you have any idea whose daughter you're humiliating?

As the only mute player in this horror game, I thought I was screwed.

Turns out the boss knows sign language.

Thank God! Perfect!

Then he gets everything completely wrong.

I sign "help me," he reads it as "you're hot."

I sign "danger," he thinks I'm saying "I like you."

I sign "get lost," and he goes, "You want me to come closer? Okay."

The worst part? I curse him out in sign language, calling him a psycho pervert.

He just smiles and says, "Baby, you're so good at flirting. I can't even bring myself to kill you now."

Me: ...

My teammate whispers to me, "Please stop signing. Every time you do, he stares at you even more like a psycho."

My brother Soren is a figure skating prodigy. Every dollar in our house, every hour, every scrap of attention — all his.
Me? I'm the kid who doesn't need to be seen.
The night before Nationals, I told my mom my stomach hurt so bad I could barely stand. She said I was making trouble. Dad told me to take a painkiller and tough it out. Then they loaded up the car and drove two hundred miles to watch Soren skate.
They didn't come home until Sunday night. By then, I'd been dead for over a day.
I called her. Again and again. She had her phone on airplane mode.
Now I'm a ghost, drifting behind their car on the highway home. They're laughing, complaining I didn't even text Soren a congratulations.
I wonder what their faces will look like when they walk through that door.

I had been married for seven years, thinking I had the perfect family.

Until Christmas Eve, when I saw a delivery order for apartment 702. The note read: severe mango allergy.

My husband's allergy. The one that could kill him.

I flew downstairs and pounded on the door.

My husband opened it. The same man who was supposed to be "out of town on business."

A pregnant woman appeared behind him.

And my six-year-old son stood behind her, glaring at me with cold eyes:

"Make her leave, Mom. She's crazy."

My world shattered.

I just landed my dream job on Wall Street, but the celebratory champagne came with a bizarre side effect. I can suddenly see the exact probability of someone killing me floating above their heads. My parents? 5% and 70%. The fiancé I ran to for safety? A blood-red 100%.

My mate died throwing himself between me and a band of rogues.
He left me a twelve-million-dollar debt and a son who wasn't even one yet.
For him, I turned away every wolf who came knocking. I never went looking for a second chance mate. I worked until my body gave out, paying off a dead man's debts one dollar at a time.
Then, on the anniversary of his death, I walked into the wrong hotel suite.
My dead mate was alive. And he was in bed with my stepsister.
They were laughing about the stupid little Omega still crying over his grave, and about the son I'd carried, who was never mine at all.
I didn't scream. I didn't cry.
I eased the door shut, walked into my meeting, and started planning their real funeral.

Three months pregnant, I took a part-time job at a bar.

On my first night, I found my husband drinking with his friends in a private room.

Ethan Grant leaned back on the couch and lifted his vape.

“Is four hundred and fifty thousand a month too little to give your wife?”

His friend jumped up. “That's not enough? What the hell is she spending it on?”

“Maybe she's keeping another guy on the side.”

The room went quiet. Ethan's expression hardened.

“She said she was broke last night, so I sent her another hundred and fifty thousand. This morning she asked for a divorce. Said if I couldn't afford to support her, I shouldn't bother.”

I stood outside the door, shaking with anger. Then I looked down at the small swell of my stomach.

I shoved the door open and went straight at him. Before he could react, I slapped him.

“Tell me. How many wives do you have?”

His eyes were bloodshot. He answered through clenched teeth.

“Just you.”

I stared at him. “Then why do I only get a hundred and twenty dollars a month?”

My mom runs a laundromat, and that afternoon she had to step out for something urgent.
Before leaving, she made sure to remind me: don't forget to finish the load in machine number seven.
I found the old clunker tucked away in the back room and bent down to reach inside the drum, trying to straighten out the tangled clothes.
That's when my upper body suddenly wedged itself in tight—I couldn't pull back out no matter how hard I tried.
I was stuck there, ass in the air, frozen in the most humiliating position imaginable.
And that's when Matthew Bennett walked in—the college professor who always comes by to pick up his dry cleaning.
To my shock, he mistook me for a sex doll. His hot, thick dick pressed against my thighs...

My best friend Lily was brutally assaulted and tragically took her own life.
But I fiercely protected the monster who did it.
Lily’s mom knelt down and begged me, but I just closed the door coldly.
When the villagers came with torches to smash my home, I didn't hesitate to unleash my dog to drive them away.
"Ivy, you cold-blooded monster! We treated you like family, and you protected the beast who drove Lily to her death for a whole decade!"
"Today, I’m going to show the whole world who this man is—the one you’d rather be cursed by everyone than expose!"
But when my deepest memories were violently torn open and the culprit's face appeared clearly on the giant holographic screen...
The high and mighty Emma instantly drained of all color and collapsed to the floor.

My daughter died on her fifth birthday.
Her first real wish—the first one she was old enough to make herself—was to go to the beach with Daddy.
Gideon promised he would take her.
She waited for him all day. She was still asking for him when she took her last breath.
He never came.
I brought her ashes to the beach she'd always dreamed of. Let her finally see the ocean.
That's when I heard it—a woman's moan, low and breathy, coming from behind the rocks.
Then his voice. Then his name on her lips.
"Between me and Lily, who do you love more?"
"You. Obviously."
He was fucking his mistress on our daughter's dream beach—while I stood there holding her ashes.
When I finally confronted them, I didn't get an apology. I got a slap across the face.
And when his mistress caught my eye and smiled, I realized something.
She knew exactly when my daughter would die.

I had just arrived abroad for a legal conference when my best friend sent me a video.
An unfamiliar woman was chatting while pushing Dexter’s mother, Jenny, around the neighborhood, claiming to be Dexter’s wife.
My hand, holding the phone, froze.
If she’s Dexter’s wife… then who am I?
I immediately called my husband and asked,
“Did you change family doctors?”
He paused for a second, then replied with a laugh, “Yes. Mom didn’t like the old one, so we switched. I haven’t had a chance to tell you yet. Why do you ask?”
I forced a casual chuckle. “No reason. I just missed you.”
After hanging up, I rushed home overnight.

After Nicholas got engaged, his assistant handed me a plane ticket.

"Leave. Don’t ever show your face in Silverlight City again."

"Otherwise, Mr. Jackson has more than enough ways to ruin you."

All those years I spent by his side, I was admired by everyone, living in the spotlight.

Yet when I finally left, I was reduced to a pitiful, laughable sight.

I said, "Fine."

But that very night, the flight plunged from over thirty thousand feet in the air.

In my last life, my brother broke my legs and my adopted sister pushed me into the ocean. My father just stood there watching, mad about the blood on his shoes.
They gave her everything that was mine. My territory, my mother's necklace, even my bedroom. I was the real daughter, the real bloodline, and I still wasn't worth half of the stray my father dragged home.
I took it all. Every insult, every slap, every scrap of love that went to her instead of me. Because I thought maybe one day they'd see me.
They never did. They killed me instead.
Now I'm back. Same night, same banquet, same girl sitting across from me with fake tears, begging for my port.
This time I didn't hand it over. I smashed a wine bottle, slapped her face open, and told my father we're done.
He called his guards. My brother pulled a gun.
What they forgot is that my grandfather is the real power in this family. And I already sent him a message.

My influencer roommate paid a small fortune to grow a tub of "all-natural" beauty mud in our bathroom.
Ten days later, the thing crawled out of her face — in front of three hundred people at a party.
And I'd known it was coming from the day I first saw what she was growing.

I gave five years to my husband's ambition—and got betrayal in return.

Forty-three days without a break on the Imperial City project. I collapsed from exhaustion and woke up in the hospital. He never picked up the phone.

He was too busy celebrating his mistress's birthday.

The blonde hair wrapped around his jacket was like a slap to the face. I'd cut my own hair short years ago because he said long hair wasn't "professional." He just meant it wasn't professional on me.

He promised we'd move to Imperial City together once he succeeded. But he was always too busy—except when it came to touring my project sites with her.

I'd had enough.

I froze the accounts. Pulled the funding. Took back everything I'd built.

He tried to push me out of my own position, so I reclaimed the patents and withdrew my support.

He called a press conference to save face. I attended—as an executive at his largest competitor.

I watched him crumble.

For five years, I held him up. And for five years, he treated me like something disposable.

He forgot that the empire he thought he built was never his.

It was always mine.

I was carrying his baby when he threw me into the sea. My husband locked me in an iron cage and dropped me to the ocean floor, convinced I’d killed the woman he truly loved. I held up my pregnancy test with shaking hands. I begged him to look. He walked away. I died alone in the dark, my arms wrapped around our child. Then she came back. Alive. Perfect. Crying in his arms. And I could only watch, a ghost he couldn’t see, as he swore to marry her and leave me to rot. He thinks I’m still trapped down there, hating him. He’s about to find out what he really did.

I came back to New York for one reason: to meet the man my mother arranged for me to marry.
I never made it to dinner.
His "sister"—the woman he'd been protecting since childhood, the one he clearly loved more than he'd ever love a fiancée he'd never met—snatched a twelve-thousand-dollar dress out of my hands at a Fifth Avenue boutique and had me thrown out. When I called him about it, he told me I should be grateful to be marrying into his family at all. Then he hung up.
An hour later, she accused me of stealing her ring. Had me pinned against the wall. Told his men to strip me down and film it for "evidence."
Nico laughed when I told him the whole Ferrante family would answer for this.
"With what? You?"
My name is Sera Vitti.
That's all I'll say.

I was severely injured and blinded by saving Alpha Caden
After marrying, I became pregnant
Only to catch my Alpha in an affair with Beta Ava
Alpha Caden coldly mocked my uselessness
And even allowed Ava to poison me
Causing a miscarriage and disposing of my body in the sea
When I despaired, I was saved by Healer Zane
After Alpha Caden learned the truth, he was driven mad with regret
Now, I return stronger than ever.
Are you ready for my revenge?

Warning: This novel have matured contents +18

"A different truth or dare is given, and that one has to be done, no matter what." Vicky said.

"Ok Deal," I said.

"Truth or Dare?" she asked.

"Truth," I said.

"What's your honest opinion of those pics you saw, of me?" She threw me a look of pure curiosity, which only made me laugh a little.

"I can say they were very hot," I said.

"Truth or Dare?"

"Truth," she answered, smiling at my comment.

"Is it just me, or are you not wearing panties?" I said, more to tease her about it, than I was curious.

"Yeah, I'm not," she said. "Actually, I'm surprised you noticed. Truth or Dare?"

"Dare," I said.

"I dare you to take off your shirt," she said.
.
.
So, thats how it started. I don't know why, but her mission is to find any means to have me for herself not minding what it will result to. Though she later had me and even got pregnant for me., but what happened after that is what you won't expect.

The very day she came back into her home country, she heard the most absurd news. "Your sister is getting married with Mr. Stephenson".
"What did you say?" She couldn't believe it. At the engagement party, she was shocked to see her sister getting engaged to her fiancé.
"Daniel, remember this, I dumped you! Did you hear that? I dumped you, not the other way round."
.....
Who could have guessed that after being betrayed by her fiancé and sister and being labelled as a home wrecker, someone would still want to marry her?
"Don't you want to get revenge on your fiancé for what he did?" Nathan Clemon asked Hilda.
"What has that got to do with you?" She snapped back.
"It has got everything to do with me. I am the only person who could help you achieve that whiles giving you the happiness that any woman would wish in this world."

"Spread your legs," the cold, handsome doctor ordered.
To escape her ex-boyfriend’s wedding invitation , Alana Martin attended an elite gala, wore a borrowed gown , and ended up spending a wild night with a dangerously handsome stranger.
Panicked, she fled the next morning —only to end up in the hospital days later with severe inflammation.
But when the curtain pulled back, the "doctor" examining her intimate areas was the exact same man from that night!
Worse?
He was looking at her with a wicked smirk,
"You stole my first night, ignored my note , and now you’re playing the amnesia game? I’m the victim here, little lady. Take responsibility."

The man I had a one-night stand with is the CEO!
"Romantic relationships between employees are strictly forbidden"
Karina's chaotic love life starts when she lands her dream job only to fall in love with her colleague on the first day. Things get more complicated when the CEO finds out about her forbidden relationship. Drunk and heartbroken, Karina spends a steamy night with a stranger only to find out that it is her Devil CEO boss. Karina navigates the complicated web of lust and lies with her unwavering determination to reach her career goals. What will happen to Karina and her love life when the Devil CEO demands that she becomes his ‘personal secretary’?
My other works: Forbidden Heat, Love Slave to the Mafia Boss's Passion, The Alpha Prince's Purchased Maid, Substitute Wife for the Mafia King, Lust Contracts and Conquering the Emperor

"Margaret..."
Robert groaned my sister's name as he finished inside me.
For three years, I'd lived like a pathetic shadow of Margaret.
He shredded my college acceptance letter. Forced me into the silk dresses Margaret wore before she died. Shoved birth control pills down my throat while I choked on tears.
Everyone said the same thing: "Sophia, you killed Margaret. You owe her your life."
Even my own parents spat the words: "Why wasn't it you who died?"
I swallowed every humiliation, convinced that if I just endured long enough, the truth would surface.convinced that if I just endured long enough, I could finally pay my debt.
Until that rainy night when I heard her voice—Margaret's voice—dripping with casual amusement through a phone call:
"Oh, darling, it was just a joke. Who knew they'd actually fall for it? Watching Sophia crawl at Robert's feet like a dog, wearing my clothes, playing the replacement... honestly, it's the best entertainment I've had in years."
My entire world shattered.
My suffering had been nothing but her twisted game. The man I loved, my own family—they'd all conspired to destroy me, just to make her smile.
I shoved open the private room door. In front of everyone, I slapped Margaret across the face.
"You want to play games? Fine. Let's play."
I spun around and threw the pregnancy test results at Robert, who looked ready to lose his mind trying to keep me there.
"Robert, you don't deserve to be my child's father. Find yourself another replacement—I'm done."
Continuously updating, with 3 chapters added daily.

Clare Voss has spent five years loving her stepbrother Zane in silence, cooking his breakfast, cheering at every match, and dreaming of the day he would finally see her.

But on his birthday, everything falls apart when his girlfriend exposes Clare's most humiliating secret in front of the entire team.

Just when Clare is ready to disappear, Rhys Calloway, her worst enemy and the team's arrogant captain, pulls her into his arms and tells everyone she is his girlfriend.

She should have pushed him away, but she kissed him back instead.

Now Clare is locked into a two-month fake relationship with the most infuriating man she has ever met, trying to get over a stepbrother who never cared and survive a captain who makes her forget why she was supposed to hate him.

The problem is that Rhys kisses like he means every single second of it, and just when Clare starts to move on, Zane decides he wants her back.

One girl, two hockey players, and a heart that was never supposed to feel this much. Will she choose the stepbrother who broke her or the enemy who caught her when she fell?

“My brother would kill you, Roman. Hell, I shouldn’t even be here!”

He moves closer, blocking the exit. “He’s not here, and you’re not telling me to stop, Nikki. So, why don’t we stop lying to each other and admit the truth?"

I glare at him. My heart’s slamming against my chest. “Which is what exactly?”

A wicked smirk curves his lips. “That we want each other. Always have. No matter how badly we shouldn’t.”


Ten years ago, I almost kissed the one guy I should’ve stayed away from, my brother’s best friend, Roman Hayes. But then he vanished from our lives and has somehow become the person my brother hates the most. I haven’t seen him in years.

The last place I expect to find him is at a high-end gala where I’m meeting potential sponsors for my charity, dressed in a ridiculously expensive suit and reeking of sin—and somehow, he might be the answer to all my prayers. But there’s a catch:

I’m not supposed to be anywhere near him, and the moment our eyes lock, I know I’ve made the biggest mistake of my entire life.

He’s my brother’s ex-best friend, after all, and there’s a spark between us that’s never been extinguished, and a truth neither of us wants to admit.

But some truths are darker than I could have possibly imagined, and some games are too wicked and wild to be entertained. This man might just destroy my life in ways I never saw coming…

And the worst part?

I’ll enjoy every second of it.

Everyone at Ravencrest High knows one rule: stay away from Ryder Aldrich Steinmann. He’s the school’s most feared bad boy—cold, reckless, and completely untouchable. So when a vicious rumor threatens to destroy Raisa Tyla Petrova’s reputation, the quiet honor student does the unthinkable—she asks him to be her fake boyfriend.

What starts as a simple deal quickly turns into the biggest scandal on campus. Stolen glances become lingering touches, and fake kisses begin to feel dangerously real. But Raisa doesn’t know the truth—Ryder never agreed to help her out of kindness. He agreed because he’s been secretly in love with her for years… and now that she’s finally his, even if it’s just pretend, he has no intention of letting her go.

When the truth finally comes out, everything they’ve built begins to crack. 𝗪𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗥𝗮𝗶𝘀𝗮 𝗿𝘂𝗻 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗼𝘆 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗳𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘀, 𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘇𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗯𝗲𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗱𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝘂𝘁𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗿𝘂𝗹𝘆 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗱 𝗵𝗲𝗿?

I dragged Theodore out of the car seconds before it exploded. Ever since that day, my fingers have never been the same—a permanent injury I'll carry for life.
Three years into our marriage, Scarlett came back. His foster sister. The one he'd secretly loved all along.
He indulged her every whim. Let her wear my wedding ring. Move into our marital home. Even kiss him in public.
Everyone mocked me—said I was clinging to the title of "wife" and refused to let go. Scarlett told me to my face to get out.
That day, Theodore abandoned me on the highway.
That was when I finally gave up on him completely.
I left the divorce papers behind and vanished.
Theodore found the journal I'd left. He went crazy searching for me all over the world. When he finally found me, he dropped to his knees, eyes red with desperation.
"Don't leave. You're the one I've always loved."
I smiled and took my new boyfriend's hand.
"Too bad. I don't love you anymore."

Eighteen-year-old Irene was preparing for her SATs when she woke up in the middle of nowhere with a splitting headache... and a little boy who refused to stop calling her mum.

At the police station, the truth hit harder than the pain in her head: seven years had passed. She was married. She had a son. And her husband was the one person she never wanted to see again... her high school bully, Nelson Clark.

Trapped in a future she couldn’t remember, Irene discovered that her life had taken a terrifying turn two years ago, turning her loved ones against her and pushing her to the brink of divorce. As buried secrets resurfaced and hidden enemies closed in, Irene had to separate betrayal from truth before history repeated itself.

Was Nelson Clark truly the villain of her high school years…? And when the truth finally came to light, would Irene survive long enough to face the consequences?

Find out in this drama-filled love story...

I gave my virginity to a powerful stranger to spite my cheating fiancé, only to discover he's my new boss and my ex's billionaire godfather.
Joann
He fucked my blood sister, I fucked his dad. And now we're even. 
I usually condoned Steven's misdeeds and ignored his red flags—at least the one he made obvious. Because why not? Everyone has flaws, I could deal with it. But cheating on me?? And with my immediate sister? That was the last straw.
I got with a stranger that looked familiar, and in my defense, I was high. Finding out I slept with my ex boyfriend's dad, my head bumped. I was toast! Though it felt like a payback. I tried every possible best to avoid Mr Sanchez. Had sex, moved on, but I couldn't. I'm pregnant! And for a one night stand with my ex's dad. 
This Book is highly erotic. 18+

Five years of marriage, and he never once looked at me with love. He called me a gold digger. He forced me to take birth control. And on our last night together, he moaned another woman's name in my ear.
I left with nothing but my dignity—and a secret I didn't even know I was carrying.
Six years later, I'm back. Not as the doormat wife he discarded, but as an award-winning scientist with a five-year-old son and a powerful family behind me. He's still engaged to his precious first love. And neither of them knows that the little boy calling me "Mommy" has his eyes.
He wants me back. He says he regrets everything.
But regret doesn't undo the past. And this time, I'm playing by my own rules.

"We literally just met. Don’t you think a flash marriage is moving a little fast?" said Michael, a blind date arranged by my mother.
"People get married quick all the time now," I shot back. "We could get the paperwork done, take time to actually get to know each other. If it works out, great. If not, we divorce."
He smiled. "Alright. Then let’s try it."

Sarah Martinez works as a restaurant server. Haunted by fragmented memories of a past she can’t fully recall, she’s desperate to escape her mother’s constant worry about her future. When she meets Michael Johnson, a man who seems to be the perfect solution to her problems, she impulsively proposes marriage.
However, Michael is not who he appears to be. He’s a man of power and wealth. When Sarah mistakes him for her mother’s arranged blind date, he decides to play along, intrigued by her sincerity and the possibility of a marriage free from the gold-diggers he’s used to.
Their marriage starts as a practical arrangement, but as they navigate their new life together, feelings begin to blur the lines of their agreement.

Will Sarah discover Michael’s true identity? Can Michael trust Sarah’s intentions, or is she just another woman after his wealth? And what will happen when Sarah’s ex, a Hollywood star, tries to win her back?