7600 Book(s) Related to the fire and the gun

WARNING: CLASSIFIED CONTENT

Filth Files is a compilation of high-heat, explicit erotic fiction intended for adults aged 18 and older.

This collection contains themes that some may find challenging or offensive, including but not limited to: extreme age gaps, power exchange, non-traditional family dynamics (taboo), and group encounters. The stories within are works of fiction intended to explore dark fantasies and boundary-pushing desires. All characters depicted in sexual acts are consenting adults.

This is not a love story. Filth Files is a raw excavation of the thoughts you’re too ashamed to admit you have when the lights go out. It is a curated collection of the intrusive, the "wrong," and the utterly depraved.

Read with discretion. You have been warned.

Caution: This book contains dark romance, mature themes, and emotionally intense relationships.
Wet Desires An Erotica Collection is a collection of seductive and emotionally charged stories where passion blurs the line between love and temptation. In a world where desire often comes at a cost, each tale explores the fragile balance between control and surrender.
Behind closed doors and hidden truths, characters are drawn into complicated relationships filled with longing, secrets, and undeniable attraction. Nothing is simple, especially when the heart and desire refuse to follow the rules.
Dark, addictive, and emotionally gripping, this collection pulls readers into a world where every touch has consequences, and every choice leaves a mark.

Her father broke her ribs. Her sister stole her powers. And her fated mate?
"You are worthless now. I can reject you and have you thrown out of my pack. I am sure your father would not want a rejected child back in his pack, would he?"
Hayley, the most powerful hybrid ever, discovers that her extraordinary abilities cannot earn her love or respect. Her older sister Elena, consumed by jealousy, steals her powers just after she becomes mated to the Alpha. Lance, who once rejoiced at being mated to such a powerful hybrid, is now disappointed when he sees Hayley powerless. He perceives her as weak and wants nothing to do with her.
But Hayley is far stronger than anyone realizes. As she faces betrayal, jealousy, and dangerous enemies—including vampires and witches—her courage and power grow. Lance begins to see the depth of strength and love within his mate. Can he overcome his pride and finally give Hayley the love and recognition she deserves before it is too late?

Elena Cross has spent her life being the perfect daughter, the obedient wolf. Bound to Damon Vance by an ancient blood pact—she's resigned herself to a loveless fate.

Until one frozen night changes everything.

After he got into a fight over another woman, Elena bailed him out. But he left her on the side of the road in a blizzard, fifteen degrees below zero. Elena's body was shutting down when a black luxury car pulled over.

Caleb Vance. Damon's despised half-brother.

Possessive fury burned in his eyes. "You'd rather freeze to death than risk crossing a line?" he growled, lifting her from the snow as if she weighed nothing. His scent wrapped around her, warmer than any flame.

While Damon sleeps with another woman, Caleb carries Elena to his bed.

One is a union bound by blood pact, the other a fated impulse. How will Elena choose?

Elea Jemima is a young girl who likes music. Even though she has a hoarse voice she is very confident in singing, especially her favorite song which she covers by a solo idol named Drex Ethan, or D.E. Lea is a history major college student, who prefers likes skipping classes. But even so, she always gets an A on every test because she is very good at memorizing whatever book she reads. Elea, who is crazy about Drex, even skips school to watch a concert. Lea can even track where her idol is staying, and where he goes and secretly follow him. Drex Ethan, a handsome idol who has a melodious voice and a perfect face, has a very haughty nature toward his fans. But his amazing face makes the women crazier with him. D.E. only occasionally smiled and seldom did a fan meeting for more than an hour, that's why Elea, who was late for the new album signing event, was desperate to sneak. However, when she infiltrate she saw a big black wolf sitting on the idol's chair in the dressing room. Lea was very hysterical, she ran screaming because apart from being allergic to dog hair, she was also afraid of that kind of creature. The worst thing is that this time it wasn't the dog that was chasing her, but the wolf. The big black wolf! Elea ran until she was pinned in a quiet room, the wolf jumped quickly and cornered her there. With her own eyes, Lea saw that the wolf had turned into the human form she knew. A special idol that she is crazy about. Yes! The wolf is a Lycan, and he is Drax Ethan!

"Strip," he ordered, voice rough. "Slowly. Let me see what belongs to me."
"All of it."
Content Warning (18+) Explicit adult erotica featuring Daddy kink, reverse dynamics, BDSM, and taboo fantasies. All Yours is a collection of irresistible stories where desire, control, and obsession collide.
Part One-The Daddy Diaries-dives into chapters of power exchange, strict Daddies, dominant Mommas, and thrilling role reversals.
Part Two explores forbidden passions, possessive lovers, and fantasies you've been craving. Some rules are made to be followed. Others...broken.

Three years after her wedding day, Vanessa remains a virgin. Her sickly, cruel husband, the Duke of Tarrick demands she produces an heir with a man of his choosing.
Vanessa’s choices are narrowing every day. To refuse leaves her penniless and alone for when the cruel Duke dies his estate passes elsewhere.
To submit would see her honor surrendered to the new stablehand Fitz. His sparkling green eyes might match her husband, but his cocky, arrogant attitude riles her. He sees no value in her titles and riches, seeking only to enjoy life’s opportunities. Including sleeping with a famously beautiful Duchess.
The added risk of snooping on servants and family scandal suggests Vanessa should stick to her husband's strict rules and simply endure what has been arranged.
But what if giving away her honor to such a casual rogue is the spark that makes her bland world finally explode into life?

Note: Explicit, erotic content. Not for readers younger than 18 please.

    “Take it off Abby” he demanded looking so fierce but sexy.
      “As you wish master” I returned . I placed my hand on my white shirt and pulled it off through my head slowly.
     “Don’t rush things Abby” he would always warn.
     I took my hands slowly to my back as I tried so hard to reach for my bra hook. I got it. I thought to myself.
    I was about unhooking it but then he interfered.
    “Stop Abby, don’t move” He said to me while he sat down on his seat gazing at me.
      “Imagine me walking round where you are standing this minute. Imagine my hands on your body as you take off your bra hook” He tried creating an invincible scene in my head.
     My hands unhooked my bra unknowingly and I felt the urge to grab him immediately, but no… that wasn’t how it was done with Alex.

Chloe Warner found out her fiance Derek is cheating on her cousin Sophia not long ago before their wedding. Her cousin is pregnant because she is so jealous of Chloe. Chloe calls off the wedding but her family pushes Derek into a marriage with the pregnant Sophia. Chloe runs away and drinks. She spent a night with a stranger in a hotel and a couple of weeks later found out that she is pregnant too. She can't keep it because her family chases her away with no money. Luckily the man who shared a night with her looking for her. The man turned out Mason Russell a very powerful Alpha. He makes a deal with Chloe to keep her baby and give birth. She will become his partner and they will fall in love with each other. Their relationship starts because of the baby but after turned out they love each other. They will fight against some enemy side by side.

I once believed that if I was obedient enough, my birth family would finally love me. Instead, they gave everything to Anna, the fake heiress—my competition spot, my reputation, even my kidney.
Then I opened my eyes and returned to the year it all began.
This time, I won’t beg. I won’t yield. My achievements, my dignity, and my life belong to me.
When everyone called me vicious, Damian Sterling draped his jacket over my shoulders and asked in a low voice, “Am I an outsider?”
I leaned into him and smiled. “Of course not.”
But soon I discovered he was being slowly poisoned—and the culprit might be someone closest to him. Worse, the truth behind my death in my previous life may be darker than I ever imagined…

1

The day he proposed, Atticus knelt before me, holding the Hale family's heirloom necklace.
I thought I had finally survived the ordeal.
After eight years of unrequited love, being humiliated by his sister, nitpicked by his mother, and mocked by the city's socialites for being unworthy of the Hales... Until this very moment, when he personally fastened the heirloom around my neck. Everyone saw it. I, Clara, was finally accepted by the Hale family.
Tears in my eyes, I said yes, thinking it was the happiest moment of my life.
But just days after putting on that necklace, bizarre red rashes crawled up my neck. My pale skin rotted away piece by piece, and my internal organs went into irreversible failure.
The most absurd part? The exact same day I started rotting, his dying mother miraculously cured her terminal illness, and his sister's half-destroyed face was restored to flawless perfection.
Disfigured and barely looking human, I threw myself off the Harbour Bridge—
I opened my eyes, and I was back on the day of the proposal.

Five years into living with my stepbrother Gideon, the scholarship girl he sponsored moved into our house.
To repay his "generosity," she made a habit of slipping into his bed at night. By day, she took it upon herself to "fix" my antisocial, withdrawn personality.
Three days before St. George Prep's graduation ceremony, she brought me a glass of juice wearing that nauseating sugar-sweet smile.
"You know, Charlotte, your peanut allergy is probably psychosomatic. You just need some exposure therapy. Let me help you get over it."
That night, my throat closed completely. She'd deliberately laced my drink with concentrated peanut extract.
I convulsed on the cold hardwood floor, vision tunneling as oxygen fled my lungs.
In the last second before darkness swallowed me whole, I clawed desperately toward the half-open door.
Standing in the hallway were my boyfriend Dylan and my stepbrother Gideon.
They simply watched me suffocate. Then Gideon calmly reached out and shut the door.
I died from anaphylactic shock.
Three months later, as a ghost tethered to this world, I watched her stride onto Stanford's campus. Wearing my clothes. Carrying my acceptance letter. Burning through my trust fund.
Through the crowd, I saw Gideon—my ice-cold, unreachable stepbrother—gently cradle her face and press his lips to hers.
Then I gasped awake.
I was back. Three days before graduation.

I used to be the most envied female on the continent. Three mates: werewolf Alpha Kael, vampire lord Dorian, elven ranger Seth. All of them mine.
Then a half-elf drifter named Ayla showed up, and everything I had started belonging to her instead, one piece at a time.
Kael once pulled a fang from his own mouth to make me a necklace. The day it broke, he was too busy licking another female's cut finger to notice.
Dorian spent two weeks brewing me blood wine. Then he handed the cup straight to her, because apparently I "looked healthy enough to go without."
Seth carved me a charm from sacred elven wood. I watched her face take shape under his knife instead of mine.
They kept telling me I needed to grow up. So when a beast's poison was spreading through my body, and I blew the whistle they swore would bring them running no matter what—
No one came.
Three years later, I walked back into their world on a Siren prince's arm.
This time, they're the ones begging for my forgiveness.

It was my second year back in this house.
My name was Evelyn, the biological daughter who got lost in Central Park at seven.
During the ten years I stayed missing, I fed pigs on a remote farm in Eastern Europe. In weather that dropped to dozens below zero, I got beaten for working too slowly.
I did not get brought back until I was seventeen, covered in scars, returned to this so-called “home,” luxurious to the point of being blinding.
To be honest, every time I watched them sit on silk sofas and sip afternoon tea, then thought about the decade I spent crawling through hell, hatred made my teeth ache.
That hatred stood between us and made the house feel like an icebox. We lived under the same roof, yet we were not even as close as strangers.

Not long after I transferred to this school, I became the bullies’ favorite target.
They didn’t like how quiet I was or how pale I looked, so they casually slapped me with a nickname: “vampire.”
It started with shoves in the hallway and jeers in the classroom, escalated to messing with my drink, then stuffing trash into my locker.
They treated my silence as permission and wrapped every provocation in the same excuse: “Just a joke.”
Until that night, when humiliation wasn’t enough. They lured me into a tiny storage room behind the auditorium—locked the door, killed the lights, set up a fixed camera—ready to strap me to a chair and film an “execution” video that would make sure I could never hold my head up at this school again.
What they didn’t know was that the nickname wasn’t a joke. It was the one time they got the truth right.
I really am a vampire.

I thought love was enough.
I thought saving the Ember Claw Pack with everything I had—my heart, my loyalty, even my body—meant something. It led to a Moon Ceremony… and a marriage to Alpha William, the man I gave my soul to.
But love doesn’t protect you from betrayal.
Especially not when the one he truly wanted was never me.
I was glowing with the joy of carrying our pup when I walked in on him—holding her.
Quinn.
The fated mate everyone believed to be dead. Alive. Back. In his arms.
And me? Just the mistake he settled for.
"I only married you out of gratitude," he said, barely meeting my eyes.
Then, turning to Quinn with a softness I never got, he added, "If she hadn’t sold her ancestral land to save the pack, I would’ve never completed the Moon Ceremony with her."
And the final blow?
"So what if she found out? I’ll just say I thought she was you that night we slept together."
That night—The one I thought meant everything.
But it didn’t end with him.
His mother pointed her finger at m

“Put them on.” I took the dress and the underwear, then I wanted to go back to the bathroom, but she stopped me. It felt like my heart stopped for a second when I heard her order. “Get dressed here. Let me see you.” I didn't get what she meant at first, but when she stared at me with impatience, I knew I must do what she said. I opened my robe and put it on the white sofa next to me. Holding the dress, I wanted to put it on when I heard her again. “Stop.” My heart nearly jumped out of my chest. “Put the dress on the sofa for a second and stand straight.” I did what she said. I stood there completely naked. She examined me from head to toe with her eyes. The way she checked my naked body made me feel terrible. She moved my hair behind my shoulders, gently running her index finger over my chest, and her gaze stopped at my breasts. Then she continued the procedure. Her gaze slowly moved down between my legs, and she looked at it for a while. “Spread your legs, Alice.” She squatted down, and I closed my eyes when she moved to see me from closer. I only hoped that she wasn’t a lesbian or something, but finally she stood up with a satisfied smile. “Perfectly shaved. Men are like that. I’m sure my son will like that too. Your skin is nice and soft, and you are muscular, but not too much. You are perfect for my Gideon. Put the underwear on first, then the dress, Alice.” I had many things to say, but I swallowed them back. I just wanted to escape, and that was the place and time, when I swore to myself I will succeed one time.

Alice is an eighteen-year-old, beautiful figure skater. Her career is just about to climax when her cruel stepfather sells her to a wealthy family, the Sullivans, to become the wife of their youngest son. Alice assumes that there is a reason a handsome man wants to marry a strange girl, especially if the family is part of a well-known criminal organisation. Will she find the way to melt the ice cold hearts, to let her go? Or will she be able to escape before it’s too late?

Within the luxurious embrace of The Grand Palazzo, Sarah discovers a love she never expected—with her magnetic boss, William. Their connection is a hidden flame, burning brightly away from prying eyes. But the entrance of the enigmatic Berky casts shadows over their affection, challenging Sarah's grasp on the love she's grown to cherish. In the midst of this turmoil, a devastating health revelation alters Sarah's perspective. She embarks on a journey to rewrite her story, leading her to an unexpected visit to William's home.
As tensions escalate, a tragic accident leaves William's life hanging by a thread. Amid the chaos, secrets unfurl, and James, William's estranged brother, emerges as the linchpin in this intricate tale. In a story of love, betrayal, and redemption, Sarah and William must confront life's unexpected twists.
Will they defy the odds, or will destiny's hand pull them apart?

TOO HOT FOR DAYLIGHT. READ AT NIGHT, LIGHTS LOW.
Some stories aren't meant to be read… they're meant to be felt.
Step into a dangerously addictive world of passion, obsession, and forbidden attraction, where desire has no rules, and emotions run far deeper than control.
This collection brings together intensely seductive erotic romance stories filled with dark chemistry, power struggles, and irresistible tension. Every chapter pulls you deeper into relationships that are complicated, consuming, and impossible to walk away from.
Featuring forbidden romance, dark romance, and emotionally charged dynamics, these stories are designed for readers who crave intense love, raw connection, and boundary-pushing passion.
Once you start, there's no turning back.

In a world of werewolf packs and ancient magic, a forbidden love ignites between a vulnerable omega, Amelia, and the ruthless Lycan king, Talon. Forced into a breeder's life, Amelia endures unimaginable suffering until Talon's unexpected interest sparks a dangerous romance. But was happens when Amelia flees with her twin pups?Would he be able to find them and bring them back to their rightfully home?Will Amelia be willing to go back to a place she vowed to never return to? Follow this thrilling story for more.

💍 Fake vows. Real sparks. One impossible deal…

When Fallon Prescott returns home for what’s supposed to be a routine family dinner, she’s met with a double blow: her father’s empire is crumbling, and the only way to save it is through a marriage she never asked for — to Reid Callahan, the one man she vowed to never see again.

Reid — arrogant, gorgeous, and heir to the powerful Callahan fortune — isn’t exactly thrilled either. But for the sake of business, legacy, and keeping their families happy, they both agree to the unthinkable: a two-year marriage contract. No feelings. No strings. No mess.

Just one problem…
Pretending to be the perfect couple isn’t as easy as they thought.

From tense charity galas to late-night encounters that feel far too real, Fallon finds herself drawn to the very man she swore to keep at arm’s length. Beneath Reid’s cool charm is a tenderness she never expected. And beneath her icy exterior, something’s starting to melt.

As sparks fly and the lines between fake and forever blur, Fallon has to ask herself: Is she falling for the man she promised not to love?

Perfect for fans of enemies-to-lovers, arranged marriage, and slow-burn tension that catches fire, The Arrangement is a sharp, sexy romance about love, loyalty, and the lies we tell ourselves to stay safe.

After I retired, I was willing to do the dirtiest work at a small auto repair shop—just to give my sick daughter an ordinary childhood.
I endured my mother’s insults, my eldest brother’s wage cuts, my younger brother’s extortion.
But they actually joined forces to steal my daughter’s life-saving money for gambling, then sold me into an illegal mine to pay off their debts.
When the iron chain locked around my wrist, when my daughter cried in despair, the killing intent that had slept in my blood for three years finally woke up completely.
They had no idea I was once the iron-blooded God of War—commander of a million troops, the name that made enemy nations tremble.

At 17, I saved William from the black market.
At 22, he crossed half the globe to marry me with two million dollars.
I built his empire for him, turning him into the biggest arms dealer in the Americas.
Then Karen appeared, and our seven years turned to ashes.
I finally saw the truth:
The roses he gave me were the ones Karen had rejected.
His so-called love was nothing but a hypocritical act for money.
To him, I was just a prop for show, a tool for his business, and a machine for sex.

Six months ago, my parents started fostering a girl named Lila Mercer.
Six months ago, Mom repainted the guest room and strung fairy lights over the bed. My room still has the same furniture I've had since I was twelve.
Six months ago, Dad started coming home for Sunday dinner. Not for me. I'd been eating alone at the counter for years by then.
Six months ago, Mom posted a photo of the two of them at the farmers market. Caption: our family is growing. I saw it during third period and locked my phone hard enough to crack the case.
So when I picked up the family iPad tonight and a notification popped up from an app I didn't recognize, I wasn't shocked. Just tired of being right.
The app was called Beacon.

I was dead, and the whole world was celebrating for my sister.

For twenty-two years, I had been the hardest-working but most invisible daughter in the Sterling family, forever living in the shadow of my gymnastics prodigy sister.

Running a high fever, I begged my family to take me to the hospital, only to hear: "Don't you DARE ruin Bella's award ceremony!"

When I was tricked into the abandoned equipment room and used my last breath to call my boyfriend while lying in a pool of blood, all I heard was: "Grace, quit the drama! Bella's accepting her award on stage!"

On stage, thunderous applause erupted as Bella lifted the "Young Gymnast of the Year" trophy.

And I drew my final breath.

When they returned home triumphant, thinking I had run away in a tantrum, they had no idea I was already dead right under their noses.

There are no unmated males in our pack.
Every she-wolf in Hollowfen is promised to someone when she turns eighteen. We just don't get to know who until we walk into the Choosing Hall.
Girls go in wearing white. They come out flushed, shaking, barely able to stand. Some laugh. Some cry. None of them talk about what happens inside.
My sister Thessaly turned eighteen this spring. Gran told her she couldn't attend the Choosing.
She went anyway. She came back on shaking legs, with blood between her thighs and a smile she couldn't wipe off her face.

My stepsister and I tumbled down the stairs together. As someone with a blood clotting disorder, my spleen ruptured—I was bleeding internally, desperate for surgery to stop it.
But my mother—the renowned chief of surgery—pulled every specialist from the ER. To consult on my stepsister's condition.
All she had was a sprained ankle. Not even a scratch. Yet mom insisted on running every test in the book. And me? Left alone on that cold floor, bleeding out, half my body already soaked in blood.
I clutched at her pants, begging her to save me. But she kicked my hand away and looked at me with pure disgust.
"Lily, are you really so desperate for a man's attention that you'd pull a cheap stunt like this? Your sister's foot is swollen—and you have the nerve to fake your death here?"
In the end, I died alone in a corner of that ignored ER.
But when they wheeled my cold body out of the morgue—and they finally learned about my clotting disorder—
That mother who claimed to hate me completely lost her mind.

I am a hero. The saint's husband.
A country boy chosen by the temple.
I fight, I fight, I fight.
All for the saint, for the temple.
But it wasn't until I was drained of blood and dying on the altar that I finally heard clearly what the saint and her childhood sweetheart were saying:
"If you become a hero and marry the saint, you'll have to surrender your soul to the temple. I don't want you to lose your soul."
"Then let's just find some country boy to be the hero. It won't matter if he dies."
Oh, so that's how it is.
You should have said so earlier.
I can defeat the Demon Lord just fine without the saint.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the wedding ceremony.
This time, someone else should be on the altar.

On the third day of the outbreak, I sat in my company’s executive conference room, gripping the red toy car I bought for my six-year-old son.

Outside the door were zombies filling the building. Beside me were six executives still breathing only because I was.

They wanted meetings. They wanted to wait for rescue. They wanted to chain me with morality.

But I wanted one thing—my son was still in daycare. Three days. No one went for him.

At dawn, I opened the door they’d barricaded shut.

I can shoot. I can clear a path. I will carve my way through to bring him back.

Anyone who stands in my way dies.

In my previous life, I chose the werewolf and gave birth to the Arbiter, only to be burned alive by the younger sister I loved most.
When I was reborn, I knelt before the Oath Stone, handed my marriage pact to her, and watched her gloat in triumph before choosing Sylas, the elf everyone else avoided.
Everyone was waiting to see me make a fool of myself—until the day of the wedding, when he came carrying a gown blessed by the Sacred Tree, lowered his eyes to me, and said, "In this life, I will never fail you."

Silver poisoning struck, and my mother's life hung by a thread.
I knelt and begged my partner Selene to use the 100,000 gold coins from our war spoils to purchase Moonlight Holy Water, but she coldly refused with a sneer: "An ordinary silver poison patient isn't worth wasting resources on." She then turned and spent 80,000 coins on a necklace for her male lover.
My mother died in my arms as I ground my teeth and swallowed my tears of blood.
But when the patrol came to collect the body, she finally discovered—the one sent to be buried deep in the mass grave wasn't my mother at all, but her own biological mother.
She had personally buried her own mom!

The chieftainess returned from the poisonous fog with a swollen belly.
She announced that she carried the child of a god—a child who would bring hope to the entire base.
Only I knew that what she bore was no divine offspring, but a demon that would devour every soul in the base.
Because in my previous life, I was the one it had gnawed to death, alive...

Fate chose her.
Power made him refuse.
Ruby was never the Luna Troy wanted.
The girl with silver eyes and no wolf the pack whispered about behind her back. The girl he rejected publicly on the day that was supposed to be their wedding and mating ceremony, choosing pride and power over the bond that tied them together.
Humiliated before the entire pack, Ruby walked away from the man destined to love her.
And when Troy realized too late that rejecting her had been the biggest mistake of his life, Ruby refused to come back.
So on the day Ruby was supposed to marry another and finally start over, he stole her from her own wedding and forced her back into his world—back into a marriage she never wanted.
Now trapped beside the man who broke her heart, Ruby is no longer the weak girl Troy remembers. The years apart changed her. Hardened her. And the power inside her has grown into something the entire werewolf world fears.
A power strong enough to stop wars.
Strong enough to make kings kneel.
Suddenly, everyone wants a piece of her.
The council sees her as a weapon. Rival Alphas see her as a prize. Enemies lurking in the shadows want her power for themselves. And Troy, the man who once shattered her, will burn down the world before he lets anyone take her again.
But forced proximity only reopens old wounds.
Because beneath Ruby’s anger still lingers the bond neither of them escaped. Beneath Troy’s cruelty hides obsession, regret, and a dangerous love that has only grown more possessive with time.
Now caught between revenge and desire, freedom and fate, Ruby must decide if Troy deserves a second chance…
—or if the Alpha who ruined her should finally lose everything.

A short contemporary domestic-drama romance. Clean to sweet. Happily ever after.

My husband's family slid the folder across the table — sign here, family helps family, it's just a signature.

What they didn't know: I had almost three million dollars in an account none of them could find. I silenced the alert before the number could glow.

They think we're the broke ones. For four years they've bled the kindest man I know dry, dressing every demand up as love and cashing it. So I let them keep believing it — and I built a wall they will never see.

They're about to find out what happens when you spend a lifetime underestimating the quiet one.

And this time, I'm not the one who pays.

Three torturous years hauling bodies on the mortuary night shift, and I'd finally scraped together the cash for my brother Charles's heart transplant.
He just waved it off.
"My heart is fine. Mom and Dad didn't die in that gang war, either. I orchestrated the hit. You were the only casualty."
Nearby, my husband, Gerald, casually lit a cigar to deliver his own confession. "I never went bankrupt. 'Laying low' was just my excuse to avoid squeezing into that dingy funeral home dorm with you. I've been at the Long Island estate."
"I was going to punish you for another three years," Charles added, "but the stench of formaldehyde on you is nauseating. We couldn't take it anymore."
I froze, still clutching the credit card. Charles plucked the plastic from my numb fingers and shoved his phone screen in my face. A banking app stared back at me.
Balance: exactly zero.
"My name is still on the joint account," he sneered, tossing the card into the trash. "I drained it this morning. That blood money you made bagging stiffs is being handed out to street junkies as we speak. We'd never touch that filth."
Before the sheer absurdity of it could suffocate me, my parents walked in. Flanked by bodyguards, they kept their distance, eyeing me like a plague rat.
"You thought being the biological daughter gave you the right to ruthlessly bully Violet. We simply wanted to put you in your place."
"Swear you'll never cross Violet again, and you can remain a Falcone," my mother added coolly. "Otherwise, you're dead to us."
In the stifling silence that followed, my phone buzzed. A text from my oncologist.
[Mrs. Castello, the results are back. It's terminal. Do you consent to initiating the hospice and DNR protocols we discussed?]

The day my mother succumbed to complications during childbirth, her younger sister, Vanessa, wed my father.

Fifteen years later, I beheld my husband accompanying Vanessa as she tried on seductive lingerie.

In that moment, I understood—what she truly coveted was never my father, but rather all that my mother and I shared.

My mother perished during childbirth, a casualty of an illicit affair.

I vowed not to repeat that tragic cycle.

Then I returned home, removed my wedding ring, and left behind the divorce papers.

A horrific car crash left me paralyzed.
The doctors said I'd never walk again. With no family left, my Aunt Martha and Uncle Thomas took me to their isolated farmhouse.
They cared for me, promising their treatments would help me walk again. After everything I'd been through, I thought I'd finally found safety.
Until today, when the feeling in my legs suddenly came back—but something told me not to tell them.

They left me to freeze to death in our basement freezer.

The night before prom, my foster sister Leila came crying that I'd burned her Ivy League recommendation letter. My birth parents didn't even listen to one word of explanation—they threw me into that frozen hell in forty-five below.

I beat on that door until my fingers were shredded, screamed until my throat tore apart, but all I could hear from upstairs was their laughter celebrating Leila. Even Justin—the boy I'd loved since we were kids—texted calling me a fucking psycho.

As I drew my last breath, I heard Leila's soft voice outside the door: "Rest in peace, sister."

Now I'm a ghost, watching them lose their minds when the truth comes out.

When I was rushed to the ER with food poisoning, I heard the doctor shout, "We need to pump her stomach, now!"
But my mother, Catherine, calmly stopped the doctor's hand.
"No hurry," she said coldly. "Give her a sedative first."
My brother Austin panicked. "Mom! If you don't detox her, she could die!"
But my mother's voice was ruthless, low and sharp:
"If she dies, she dies. As long as her uterus is still warm, that's all that matters."
"Did you forget our plan? Sarah's transplant surgery is scheduled for tomorrow. If Elena wakes up now, what if she runs away?"
"Our priority is keeping her uterus safe for Sarah—not saving her life."
In that moment, the burn in my stomach was nothing compared to the chill in my heart.
I forced my eyes open and saw my brother—the one who'd always protected me—hesitate for a moment, then slowly let go of my hand.
"...Okay. You're right, Mom. Saving Sarah comes first."
The moment I closed my eyes, I made a decision: If I survived, this life would never belong to this family again.

My parents and twin sister faked their own deaths so she could steal my college acceptance.

I believed it. Sobbed until I couldn't breathe when the cops showed me photos of the burnt yacht. Thought my words—"I hope you all die"—had somehow made it happen.

Two weeks later, I found my sister's backup Instagram: "Finally ditched the boring sister! Bahamas is paradise 🏖"

Something inside me snapped.

Wanna play dead? Stay dead.

I took their death certificates. Canceled their social security numbers. Drained every joint account—every last cent. Sold the house to John, the kind of guy even cops don't mess with.

One month later, they came home tanned and loaded with designer bags, expecting to find me broken on the streets.

What greeted them instead were cold gun barrels pointed at their heads.

“Dad… please… help me…” I pleaded, my shattered ribs piercing my lungs, blood soaking the stretcher.
But Richard, the hospital's top surgeon and my biological father, didn't even glance at me. Instead, he rushed to the next bed.
“Don't be afraid, Chloe. I'm here,” he cooed to his stepdaughter, who merely had a tiny scratch on her arm. “Get the best equipment over here now!” he roared.
As the heart monitor flatlined and my soul left my broken body, I realized the chilling truth: in the choice between life and death, my father gladly let me die.

There are too many ways of taking revenge on a woman. But he chose marriage. In the past three years, he acted like a ruthless husband, treating her coldly, and even more worse, humiliating her. Even when she was pregnant, he tried to force her to give it up, to retire from film field, to expel her from her country.

In my previous life, my wife was addicted to black market gambling on football, which caused us to lose everything.
To make matters worse, a zombie horde then broke out.
We had no shelter and were quickly torn apart by a horde of frenzied zombies.
After being reborn, she planned to run off with all the money, then dump me and elope with her lover.
What she didn't know was that I had awakened the ability to read minds and knew all her plans.

When the apocalypse came, I became one of the military's failed experiments—defective, useless, a waste of space who only knew how to fix machines.
My so-called brother Kane used the camp leader access I got for him to trade away the comms gear I nearly died to secure for a bottle of whiskey. He drained my bone marrow dry to keep me in the dark, then dumped me out in the wasteland to die.
After that, he pinned every bit of luxury and waste on me—
while my little sister didn't even have the medicine she needed to stay alive.
That night, dragging my crippled body behind me, I reached into the substation.
Kane, do you remember what kind of genes were in those five hundred milliliters of bone marrow?

I'm a folklorist. Folk traditions are my field.
At first, I thought it was just an ordinary rhyme, a scrap of oral history set to a tune.
"A rag doll in the mire, swinging high up to the sky..."
We all thought it was just a prank.
Until the first person drowned in the bog. Then the second fell from a tower crane. Then the third somehow drowned in a bathtub.
I stared at the black symbol surfacing on the back of my hand.
And then I saw the dean—the one who was supposed to be dead—standing outside my dorm window in a long black dress, smiling at me with impossible tenderness...

My boyfriend pulled off a drone-sky proposal that lit up the entire city.
Crowds cheered, “Congratulations to Mr. Gunson and Mrs. Gunson—at last, true lovers become family.”
But the woman curled in his arms was his secretary.
The “me” in their mouths had long since turned to white bones beneath a mound of earth.

I got dragged online by one of my lead devs.

He claimed my "Incubation Project" was a gilded cage—a trap to exploit the team and steal their personal IPs.

The truth?

I funded it out of my own pocket.

Selected candidates would get a $50,000 no-strings-attached seed fund, plus full Ivy League tuition reimbursement. It was 100% voluntary, with zero penalties for opting out.

Since the internet decided I was a toxic capitalist monopolizing their creativity, I gave him exactly what he wanted. I fired off a company-wide memo:

[To protect your creative freedom from capitalist exploitation, the $50,000 Incubation Fund is permanently abolished, effective immediately.]

[As an alternative, the monthly education allowance for all employees is now a $15 reimbursement for basic coding courses.]

The moment the memo dropped, the employees who were counting on that $50k to pay off student loans or change their lives completely lost it.

Now, they're swarming right outside my glass office door, eyes red, begging me to reinstate the program.

Kai Mercer has only three rules.

Never miss training. Keep his spot on the team. Never take anything too seriously.

He’s been managing all three just fine until one night at a bar when he walks up to a stranger to have a little fun. But something about this man piques his interest in a way nothing ever has before.

Interesting enough that Kai can’t quite get him off his head.

He doesn’t get the chance to think about it for too long because the next morning, his coach gives him an ultimatum to fix his grade. So he drags himself to a class he'd forgotten he'd even registered for.

Turns out the stranger at the bar is the same professor who gave him the F that could end his career before it even began.

Professor Lee doesn’t make exceptions.

Not for athletes. Not for excuses.

And certainly not for the reckless, sharp-tongued student who never showed up to class once.

What starts as two people who can’t stand each other slowly becomes something neither of them expected.

One has nothing left to lose.

The other has too much to risk.

When they finally stop pretending…

Will it already be too late?