9556 Book(s) Related to one night stand the billionaires secret heir

Nyra had died with a heart that cried out for justice after being betrayed by her husband and her step sister.
Only to reawaken on her wedding to him except this time, she is aware of his betrayal and would stop at nothing to make everyone that had ruined her life PAY…
Even if it meant falling into the arms of the tyrant Alpha Brothers.

Adele Valerith thought she had married the Alpha she loved.
Instead, she discovers that she was only a piece in a political bargain.
Tristan Blackthorn married her to unite their powerful packs. His secret agreement with his fated mate, Lilith Veyra, was to reject Adele after the merger and make Lilith his Luna.
But Tristan made one mistake.
He fell genuinely in love with his Luna.
Before he can decide what to do, Adele discovers the betrayal.
Then she drinks from a poisoned goblet.
Wolfbane destroys her from within, and she dies believing that either Tristan or Lilith was responsible.
But the Moon Goddess gives her another chance.
Adele wakes three months before Tristan first arrives.
This time, she remembers everything.
And most importantly, she remembers the goblet.
Instead of running, Adele walks straight back into the trap.
She agrees to marry Tristan again, determined to uncover the truth before the same fate can reach her.
But the second life doesn’t follow the first perfectly.
Some events happen exactly as Adele remembers.
Others change.
Tristan begins falling in love with her again.
Lilith becomes increasingly desperate.
Ironfang prepares for war.
A mysterious conspiracy reaches into Adele’s own family.
And the Wolfbane that killed her was prepared long before the wedding ever took place.
Soon Adele realizes her first death was not simply the result of a jealous fated mate or a faithless Alpha.
There is an ancient bloodline conspiracy behind it.
Even the Moon Goddess has been keeping secrets.
As war threatens to destroy the packs, Adele must uncover the person who truly killed her while deciding whether the Alpha she once loved deserves a place in her second life.
Because revenge was the reason she accepted her second chance.

Evelyn Mitchell thought love meant sacrifice—until the man she married turned her into a ghost in her own home. Married for three years, ignored, humiliated, and blamed for a tragedy she didn’t cause, Evelyn is shattered when she learns she's pregnant with Fabian's child—the same man who loves her sister, Gina.
As secrets unravel and betrayal cuts deeper, Evelyn must decide: stay silent and disappear, or fight for the child she never thought she'd have… and the dignity she refuses to lose.
In a world where loyalty is twisted and love is weaponized, how far will one forgotten wife go to protect what's hers?

At seventy-two, Richard Hayes finally asked my mother for a divorce.

He thought he was setting himself free.

He did not know Eleanor Hayes had been waiting ten years for him to say the words.

By sunset, his new woman would be calling my mother cruel.

By winter, he would be standing on her porch with two suitcases and nowhere soft to land.

And my mother, who had spent nearly half a century opening doors for him, would finally learn how peaceful a locked door could sound.

Claire Bennett built her marriage the way she built her fortune: with clear eyes, sharp numbers, and no illusions about love. So when her husband, Ethan, announces that he is pretending to be poor for a younger woman, Claire is less offended by the affair than by the insultingly low breakup fee he plans to offer.

Then the game turns expensive. The young woman knows more than Ethan thinks, and the elite attorney hired to tear apart Claire's finances is Adrian Shaw, the broke student Claire once deceived, desired, and abandoned with two million dollars. To survive the divorce, Claire must outplay a husband who wants devotion without sacrifice, face the man who once offered her everything he had, and decide whether money can still buy the only thing she actually regrets losing.

My husband, Ethan Cole, had found a young woman to play poor with. He shared her rented apartment, wore matching outfits bought on clearance, and hunted down takeout deals. He called it getting back to his roots.

We'd had even less when we started out. A leaking basement. Cheap noodles because delivery cost too much. Now that we were rich, he missed being broke.

"It's just for fun. We're not sleeping together," he told me. "When I get bored, I'll give her two hundred thousand dollars to move on. You won't have to deal with her."

I didn't cry. I didn't throw anything.

After a moment, I asked, "Two hundred thousand? Isn't that a little cheap?"

Years earlier, I'd played the same game with a broke young man.

When I left him, I'd paid two million.

Everyone in the tribe looked down on me. My father declared someone else the heir to the chieftaincy, my wife tore up our engagement and followed a new master, and I lived in a beast pen at the edge of the hunting grounds, sharing a wall with the hunting dogs. I thought this was my life. Only later did I realize that the entire tribe had spent twenty years of coldness building me a fortress. Those airtight shields would one day need me to prove them myself. On the day I awakened, the tribe's totem pole exploded. The true king was about to return.

On the seventh anniversary of my marriage to Alexander Moretti, I finally understood something.
In the Moretti family, loyalty was a rule everyone had to follow.
Everyone except the Don's son.
Over the past seven years, women had come and gone from Alexander's life. Actresses, models, daughters of allied families, and even my own personal assistant, whom I had once personally promoted.
Through it all, I maintained the dignity expected of Mrs. Moretti.
I managed the family's accounts, kept rebellious branches in line, represented Alexander at charity galas, and smiled for the press whenever another scandal broke, assuring reporters that my husband was simply too busy with work to entertain himself with other women.
Until the day I went into labor.
Alexander's latest mistress showed up with a group of hitmen from a rival Mafia syndicate and came straight for my mother and me.
My mother was shot dead while trying to protect me.
And the child I was gone.
I begged Alexander desperately to come save us, but he was too busy enjoying himself with his new lover.
When I finally regained consciousness in the hospital, I stared numbly at the elderly man standing beside my bed.
Vito Moretti, Alexander's grandfather and the current Don of the Moretti family.
"This is an amendment to the family trust. As long as you agree to remain by Alexander's side, the Moretti family will provide for you for the rest of your life. You will still be the only woman of this family."
I looked at the agreement and suddenly found the whole thing ridiculous.
"Just let me go."

To buy my freedom, I made a deal with my father. I would play Lorenzo Hale’s fiancée, his shield, until he took the throne as Don. Then I’d swallow a black-market drug, fake my death.
For five years, I took bullets for Lorenzo. I tasted poison meant for him. I bled for him more times than I can count. The whole underworld said Corinne Moretti loved Lorenzo Hale so much it made her crazy.
The day he finally became Don, he married my sister Blair, declaring he would keep me as his mistress.
I didn’t cry. I didn’t fight. I simply started counting the days.
The drug was already in my blood. Seven days, and I’d be gone.
But by the time Lorenzo finally decided he wanted me to stay, I was already “dead.”

I died once. Madison shoved me into a zombie horde and watched them tear me apart.

She was crying, saying, "You have a duty to save everyone," and then she ran.

Now I'm back. Twenty-eight hours until the virus leaks.

She's still sitting in the front row, smiling at me: "Ethan, you're such a good person."

This time around, I decide who saves who.

This life, I'm only the Grim Reaper.

I was reborn on the eve of the arranged marriage, and the first thing Liana and I did was swap our marriage contracts.
In my past life, gentle Liana had married Kael, the cold and ruthless Alpha of the Wolf Clan.
But Kael always put the scheming daughter of his savior first, condemning my cousin to a lifetime of endless grievance and suffocating misery.
As for me, with my fiery temper, I’d been wed to a mediocre, weak Beta.
He spent every day complaining that I “wasn’t a woman at all”. Endless quarrels and the crushing burden of the family eventually led me to a tragic end—dying exhausted on the battlefield.
Now I opened my eyes again, staring at the fateful marriage contract on the nightstand. I clenched my fists and looked at my teary-eyed cousin.
“Tomorrow, you’ll marry that Beta. And as for that cold-blooded Alpha? I’ll take care of him.”

Seven years of marriage turned me into a joke.

My husband Christopher would drive across half of New York in a blizzard just to bring my sister Amanda a cup of mulled wine. My own son Ryan would point at my face and scream, "Aunt Amanda is a hundred times prettier than you! She should be my mom!"

In this house, the three of them were family. I was just the unpaid help.

I thought if I loved them enough, I could win their hearts. Until the day Ryan stomped on my architectural model—six months of work, my ticket back to the career I'd sacrificed. Christopher just shrugged. "Amanda wanted it as a toy for Ryan. Do you really have to make such a big deal out of it?"

Something inside me went quiet.

I signed the papers without a word. Left my ring on the table. Walked into the winter night and never looked back.

In my last life, I needed five million dollars to pay for my mother’s treatment. So I signed a three-year marriage contract with Everett and became the Mrs. Thorne everyone envied.

But throughout those three years, his heart belonged to Celeste, the woman he had never gotten over after she left for Europe.

She came back the day we buried my mother.

The day I was diagnosed with terminal cancer, Everett snapped at me over the phone for bothering him during surgery.

And when I took my last breath in a hospital bed, he was in France attending a conference with Celeste.

Until the moment I died, he never came to see me. Not even once.

Then I opened my eyes and found myself back on the day of my mother’s funeral.

Her body had barely been laid to rest, yet that evening, Everett raised his glass at a charity gala and announced that Celeste would become the new chief of neurosurgery at Thorne Medical Group. He looked at her with a tenderness he had never shown me, and the sight of it hurt.

The entire room applauded them.

No one remembered that I had buried my mother that very day.

I picked up a glass of red wine, walked straight over, and threw it in Everett’s face.

“A bitch and a bastard. What a perfect match. Hope it lasts forever.”

I pulled off my wedding ring and tossed it into the champagne tower. As glass shattered and cameras flashed around me, I turned and walked away.

Behind me, Everett said through clenched teeth, “Without the Thorne family, you’re nothing.”

He had no idea that I would never go back to him again.

Just as my business partner called to gloat, the loan shark's hitmen were frantically hacking at my security door.

"Arthur, I've been reborn too. I embezzled that ten million in company funds to build a doomsday bunker. Enjoy taking the knife for me!"

Listening to the voice through the receiver, I simply smashed the window and vaulted from the second floor, not wasting even half a second on his bullshit.

Building a private shelter with ten million in dirty money? He had absolutely no idea just how terrifying the monsters that would rip apart the earth's crust in thirty days truly were.

Dragging my bleeding arm, I charged into an underground internet cafe and forcibly hacked into the highest early warning system of the Overseas Defense Agency.

Half a year later, the Abyss descended. His proud bunker was crushed like papier-mâché during the very first beast tide. As he scrambled for his life through the mud like a pathetic bug, he looked up—only to see a national-level steel fortress stretching for thousands of kilometers across the horizon.

And there I was, clad in a black-and-gold Supreme Commander uniform, looking down at him from hundreds of meters above.

For a whole year, my husband's childhood friend treated my high-end boutique like her personal closet.

Bags that ran a few thousand dollars, couture gowns worth tens of thousands. She took whatever she wanted and walked out, never once saying the word "money."

The store bled cash month after month. When I finally hit my limit and told her to pay up, she slapped me across the face in front of a room full of customers.

"You should be flattered I even shop here. And you've got the nerve to ask me for money?"

Garrett came rushing in with his coffee, and the first thing out of his mouth wasn't whether I was okay. He pulled her behind him and told me to apologize, then said if I didn't, he'd divorce me.

I didn't cry, didn't make a scene. I picked the bill up off the floor, turned around, walked out, and made one phone call.

Three days later, Bianca comes back with five of her socialite friends, bragging that they're going to clean out every expensive piece in the place.

I hold my coffee and smile, tell them to take their time.

What she doesn't know is that three days ago, this store already changed hands.

"Who are you, really?" Lewis, the ruthless Mafia Godfather, cornered me in the elevator, his eyes filled with a twisted obsession as his fingers grazed the black butterfly tattoo on my collarbone.
He is completely addicted to my new face, my coldness, and my ruthless Wall Street tactics.
He is even willing to kick his beloved mistress out of the boardroom just to keep my attention.
If only he knew that beneath this flawless skin lies a map of scars—melted by the boiling soup he personally poured over my head.
If only he knew that I am his "dead" wife.
The naive woman he threw into a sub-zero freezer to rot in agony, just to inherit his father's inheritance.
Instead of panicking, I grab his tie, pulling him close with a mocking smile. "I'm your worst nightmare, Lewis."
I survived the ice and thirty-five surgeries just to return from hell.
He thinks he is hunting a dangerous new prey, but I came back to strip him of his empire and his life!

Lunar Depletion Syndrome. Seven days.
That was my death countdown. And my Alpha mate Kael was still threatening me, demanding I use the last of my life force to save my sister.
On our third anniversary, he had given me a surgical consent form and dissolution papers as gifts.
How laughable.
Three years ago he had said my eyes sparkled like stars. Three years later he wanted me to close them forever.
They all said I had finally matured, learned the spirit of sacrifice expected of an older sister. The joke was, I hadn't been moved by love.
I was just tired.
Why struggle when death was inevitable?
Rather than dying alone in the wilderness, it was better to die on the operating table and become the perfect sacrifice in their story.

"Give Paige the tickets. I'll buy you a new bag tomorrow."

That was Caleb's first sentence to me on our five-year anniversary. His black Maybach idled at the curb. Paige stood closely behind him, wiping her tear-stained face. She had just climbed out of his passenger seat; I was just holding the two Nova VIP passes that took a miracle to score.

"She needs a distraction," Caleb added, fully expecting my usual quiet surrender.

I looked at them. No screaming. No tears. I just placed the tickets into his hand, turned on my heel, and left.

Let them enjoy the show. There was no space for me in that crowded arena, just like there was no space left for me in his world.

A man's luxurious watch slipped out of my wife's purse. Without batting an eye, she lied, "It's a gift for your dad." Looking at the youthful, trendy style and thinking of the remote-controlled toy that had mysteriously appeared in the nightstand, I felt nothing but utter disgust.
In the surveillance footage, the domineering homewrecker not only wore my clothes but also arrogantly taunted me.
And my own flesh and blood, the son I cherished more than my own eyes, had covered for them for a few hundred dollars of pocket money!
Since everything was rotten to the core, I wouldn't even want the son anymore.
Without a word, I accepted a tenured professor position overseas, decisively gave up custody, and promptly mailed the divorce papers and the adult toy to her company.
The mistress and the homewrecker's little celebration? Let them torment each other.
This time, I'm taking my life back.

Everyone says he loved me more than anything. So I chose to answer that love with death.

Forbes cover stories, tearful speeches at charity galas, shutting down Fifth Avenue every Valentine's Day just to watch fireworks with me. They said he ruled a business empire but would kneel in front of the entire world and call me his reason to live.

I used to believe it.

Until I discovered my perfect husband had built another home with another woman. A warm one, filled with laughter and his child.

So I chose to disappear the night the storm swallowed everything.

They say he spent three days on his knees at the cliff's edge, screaming my name into the black ocean. The man worth billions couldn't even find his wife's body.

When the rescue team recovered that burned-out car, he finally opened the safe I'd left for him. Inside was a positive pregnancy test and a divorce agreement that would never be signed.

By then, nothing mattered anymore.

My name is Maya Wilson. I'm seventeen, I have 100K TikTok followers, and I just watched my dad destroy our family for a twenty-five-year-old homewrecker named Ashley.

"Ashley makes me feel alive again," he said, dismissing seventeen years of marriage like a bad business deal.

"We'll be one happy family," she smiled, standing in our kitchen like she already owned it.

That's when I knew: Mom needed my protection.

What followed was a war fought with laptops and lies, fake pregnancies and real heartbreak. A battle between a broken housewife discovering her strength, a teenage girl wielding digital weapons, and a woman who thought she could manipulate her way to victory.

Six months later, Mom would be accepting awards. Ashley would be gone. And Dad?

Dad would be begging for forgiveness he'd never get.

My fated mate married my sister in my wedding dress. Before the party was over, I walked past him in another man’s.
Three times we planned our wedding. Three times, Theron chose Coralie. This year a seer said she’d die unless she married him today, so my family gave her my place and locked me upstairs. Then they ignored my screams when his friends forced their way into my room.
They all laughed off the elders’ pact: three years unmarked, and I belong to the cursed Lycan King. Superstition, they said.
So I made one phone call. I renounced my pack and cut every tie that bound me to them.
Under a silver veil, I walked through the garden I’d decorated with my own hands. My parents bowed without knowing me.
Only Theron caught a trace of my scent. By the time Coralie let go of his sleeve, I was gone.

Kael ruined my life, drained my divine blood, and framed me for murder in my past life. Given a second chance, I reject his fake tenderness and tear down every lie he built. The almighty Dark Duke who once played with my life now craves only my mercy. He abandons his army, destroys his status, and begs for my punishment. I end his tyranny, chain him with my golden blood, and turn my worst tormentor into my most obedient hound.

My water broke in the middle of my family’s tiny clinic.
Thirty-six weeks pregnant, breech baby, emergency C-section. I only had one request: not City Center Hospital.
Because the man I had been hiding from for eight months worked in a hospital.
I told myself there were hundreds of doctors in the city. It would not be him.
Then the operating room door opened.
My ex-boyfriend walked in wearing scrubs, looked at my chart, looked at my belly, and went completely still.
He was not just the man I had left.
He was the anesthesiologist about to put a needle in my spine.
And when our daughter was born wearing his exact face, there was no hiding left.

I died watching my fiancé check another woman for scratches while three bullets tore through my chest.

I was his human shield. She was his true love.

Then, I blinked—and I was back. Reborn on the exact day I was supposed to sign our Mafia marriage pact.

Matteo slammed the sacred blood-oath on the desk. "Sign the damn paper, Serena. And stop being jealous of Anna. She’s fragile."

He wanted me to be his Donna. To run his casinos, bleach his dirty money, and take the bullets, while he played house with his sickly-sweet stepsister.

In my past life, I cried and signed my soul away.

This time? I smiled. I picked up the gold pen and signed the Bride line.

But I didn't write my name. I wrote Anna.

I tossed the contract at his chest, packed my bags, and walked out of the underworld forever.

Have a nice wedding, Matteo. Let's see how long your empire survives when your fragile little princess gets the throne.

Three days after I lost our pup, my mate finally reached out through the mind-link.

He sounded pleased with himself.

"Three days without a scene. Guess you finally figured out pack rules apply to you too. I'll have your Starfall token sent over. And quit making a war out of everything Brielle does."

I didn't answer right away. I was looking at the blood still dried on my thighs.

He must have thought I'd finally been put in my place. That I'd learned to keep my head down for him and his Beta.

Nobody would believe it. I was the Luna of Ashcrest, and I still had to beg Beta Brielle for permission to use the healing pools while I was pregnant. Callum had decided I couldn't handle pack business, so he handed every bit of mine to her.

Three days ago, my pup's heartbeat started slipping. I sent in another request for the pools.

Brielle sent it back. Incomplete paperwork.

I lost the baby.

I sent two words back through the link.

"Fine. Thanks."

He had no idea that was goodbye.

By midnight, I'd be gone for good.

In seven years of marriage, I miscarried five times. I nearly died on the operating table.

My husband, Lorenzo Castellano—the mafia king who controlled the entire East Coast—gripped my blood-stained hand and choked out: "It's okay. You're all I need."

I believed him.

Until our anniversary, when I smelled her perfume on his shirt and discovered the truth: his sister-in-law had given him a three-year-old son—those same deep brown eyes I'd bled five times trying to create.

The cruel irony? Just the day before, two pink lines had appeared on a pregnancy test.

That night, the explosion lit up the entire ocean, our private yacht burning like a funeral pyre.

The man who made all of New York's underworld tremble finally learned what it meant to lose.

He lost his wife.

And the child he would never know existed.

I’ve been guarding a door in the Nevada underground for a hundred years. The system marks this place "Abandoned," and the official records claim I don't exist.
When the investigation team arrived, the leader was my old signal corpsman. He pretended not to know me and ordered his guards to drag me out like a piece of dead weight.
They shoved a young lad from the Rex family into the breach as bait, and while everyone screamed in horror, no one dared to move.
So, I jumped down to fish the kid out, using a bottle of beer to force back the tentacles reaching from the dark.
Then, I pulled on that dusty old uniform and pressed my palm against the master console—all thirty-two security protocols verified instantly.
The lead technician collapsed in shock: "This clearance level is restricted to the Chief Architect only."
He was right. I am.
The thing I’ve kept locked behind that door for a century woke up, whispering: "What do you want?"
I said: "Dinner."

For our tenth wedding anniversary, my husband gifted me a solo trip to Zurich.

After a decade of laundering his cartel's cash and stitching up his bullet wounds, the Don of the West Coast suddenly decided his wife needed a "luxurious break."

Then I stopped outside the study and heard him cutting a deal with our eight-year-old son.

"Dad, if you stand beside Aunt Bianca at the sanctuary ceremony, what happens to Mom?"

"Nothing happens to your mother," Dominic chuckled, smooth and effortless. "The oath just puts Bianca under my name so rivals back off. It's business."

"It looks like a wedding."

"It's just theater, Toby. Your mother has my real ring. She doesn't need to know about this. Keep it between us, and that console you wanted is yours."

I stood in the dark hall, ice flooding my veins.

He wasn't resting me. He was getting me out of the country so he could play husband to his widowed first love—convinced it wasn't betrayal as long as there wasn't a marriage license.

Dominic thinks I'm flying to Europe to be his patient little Donna.

Too bad for him. I just wired my retainer to an international divorce lawyer. The plane leaves at dawn, and Toby and I aren't coming back.

I’d succeeded. I’d won over the broken second lead. And now I was going home.
I walked in carrying the gift I’d bought him, the pregnancy test results tucked in my bag.
And locked eyes with the two people in matching pajamas inside our house.
I knew then that this marriage was over.
The system asked me, “If you return to the real world, everything Liam has will be reset. He’ll be back in a wheelchair—worse off than before.”
“Host, do you confirm your return to the real world?”
“Yes.”

I drank myself into a stomach perforation, all to secure investment for Mu Jingshen's company.

As I was wheeled into the emergency room, blood trickled from the corner of my mouth. I heard a doctor shouting: "Where's the next of kin? We need a signature for surgery, now!"

My hands shaking violently, I dialed Mu Jingshen's number.
His contact was saved under "A Hubby", pinned to the very top of my contact list, just so I'd never miss a single call from him.

The call connected, and I forced out every last bit of my strength to speak, my voice weak and trembling:
"Jingshen, I need emergency surgery. Can you come sign the consent forms for me, please..."

But it wasn't his voice that came through the line. It was Shen Wanrong's, sweet and cloying: "Jiejie, Jingshen's busy giving Huanhuan a bath right now."

The sound of running water stopped.
I heard him ask who was on the phone.

Shen Wanrong spoke in a hurt, plaintive whine: "It's Jiejie... Jingshen, do you want to take the call? What if it's an emergency?"

But he just said, his voice flat and dismissive: "Ignore her. Nothing could ever be more important than being here for Huanhuan's birthday."

Huanhuan was Shen Wanrong's pet dog.

On our one-year anniversary, my husband Julian gifted me an antique ring.
Putting it on cost me everything.
I miscarried, grew paralyzed, and rapidly withered into a husk. And Julian? He convinced everyone that the trauma had simply driven a grieving mother insane.
Eventually, even I believed him.
It wasn’t until the moment of my murder that the truth finally clicked.
The ring wasn't a blessing; it was a parasitic siphon.
Then, I opened my eyes—
I was back at the anniversary dinner.

or fifteen years, I loved Nolan Mercer from a distance. He was golden, decent, and way out of my league. I was the tycoon’s unwanted fifth kid who learned early to take what she wanted.

Then a glowing romance system popped up and told me I was his destined love interest. So I stopped being nice.

I trapped him into marriage. I dragged him into bed every chance I got. He told me he hated me every day, and I didn’t care. Fate said he was mine.

Six shameless months later, the system came back screaming: [ERROR! You’re not the heroine. You’re a side character. Leave the male lead immediately.]

Fine. I handed my cold, miserable husband the divorce papers and wished him luck with his real love.

There was just one problem.

The man who swore he’d do anything to get rid of me suddenly won’t sign. He’s “forgetting” cuff links under my pillow, drinking himself stupid at galas, and cornering me in stairwells to beg me not to leave.

Turns out the system got a lot more wrong than just me.

Three years ago, my best friend Juliana Pierce was raped and jumped from a twelve-story building. I was there. I saw everything. I know exactly who did it.

Alexander Knight—Juliana's boyfriend, brilliant scientist, the man I've secretly loved for seven years—has spent every moment since hunting for answers. He believes I'm shielding a predator. He's dedicated his life to making mine hell.

Now I'm dying of ALS, and Alexander's dragged my broken body onto his "Memory Judgment Stage" for the world to see. His new technology can rip memories straight from my brain and broadcast them as holograms.

"Tell them who killed Juliana," he shouted.

I refuse. So he cranks up the machine, letting the neural probes tear through my dying brain. My hand shatters. My body convulses. But I won't break.

Until the memories start bleeding out anyway.

And when Alexander sees the rapist's face—Completely loses his mind.

When the armored car had room for only one passenger, Damian Russo chose me.

I was saved, but Lilia Brown didn't make it. She bled out in the crossfire, her body left in the rubble. Damian pretended he didn't care and married me as planned.

For three years, he made me pay for her death—beating me, starving me, blaming me for the fact that she was gone.

In the end, he drove us both off a cliff instead.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the docks on the night of the ambush. This time, I stepped aside and let him save the woman he truly loved.

My serpent mate has locked me in the castle, nine months pregnant. A dozen serpent guards watch me day and night. I can't even leave the room.

A month ago, his brother died in a hunting accident. He became the serpent clan leader. Then he brought back his brother's widow, the woman he grew up with. His first love.

He said he needed to take care of his brother's widow. He told me we'd all live together in the castle, nice and peaceful.

I said no.

I'm his mate. I'm a beastman. My pride won't let me accept that. And they grew up together, childhood sweethearts. How could I not think about it?

She came to him in tears, heavily pregnant. She said I poisoned her medicine, that I wanted to kill her and the baby.

He believed her.

He decided I was just some rogue beastman with no background, jealous and vicious, only after his title and money. So he locked me in this freezing castle while he camped outside her delivery room.

When labor hit, I screamed for a healer. I swore I never hurt her. I just couldn't live with her under the same roof. I only ever loved him.

He just laughed. "You're good at acting. I don't believe a word out of you. Once she delivers safely, I'll deal with you. Don't think you can trick me into coming back."

But when a trembling guard reported "Your mate and the child... they didn't make it," he lost it completely.

The Solarien family had two daughters.
Aurelia, the younger, was their pride and joy, soon to marry Duke Lysander beneath a reputation she had never earned: the so-called genius enchantress.
I, Vespera, was nothing more than the family's hidden workhorse, locked in a basement and valued only for what I could produce.
For years, I churned out enchanted gear to fund their lavish life while they used me as a stepping stone for Aurelia without a trace of guilt.
I let them bleed me dry, clinging to the faint hope that they might someday treat me like family.
Then, on the eve of my wedding, my parents stole the gown I had spent three years pouring my blood and sweat into, all so Aurelia could make a grand impression.
They threatened my fiancé's life and forced me to cut my wrist, using my blood to reverse the runes and attune the enchantment to her instead of me—even though the backlash could cripple my magic for life.
The moment I watched my blood soak into that gown, I gave up on my family for good.
For all the family pride they fought so desperately to protect, there had never been room for me.

The housekeeper’s daughter just locked me out of my own Bentley.

"Bob, drive," Ella Brooks—the school's untouchable Queen Bee—ordered my chauffeur. She leaned into her boyfriend, Ryan Harrington, shooting me a look of fake pity. "My family already pays her tuition. Charity cases don't get free rides."

A bunch of kids nearby laughed, always eager to kiss up to the fake heiress. Ryan glared at me like I was actual trash. "Maya, if someone puts a roof over your head, show some respect. Know your place."

The tinted windows rolled up. Tires squealed, leaving me choking on exhaust.

I stood on the curb, watching my car speed off. She had hijacked my entire life to play school royalty and snag a wealthy guy, convincing everyone I was the freeloader.

I was so pissed I actually laughed. She mistook my low profile for weakness.

She wanted to play the billionaire's daughter? Fine. Playtime is officially over.

Only after I lost the promotion did I find out that my broke boyfriend secretly owned the company I worked for.

He'd voted against me.

One of his friends asked him, “Aren't you worried Nora Bennett will find out you've been lying to her and raise hell?”

Blake Whitmore gave a casual laugh.

“Why would I be? It doesn't take much to make her happy again.”

“Chloe's different. She's been a princess her whole life. When she wants something, she has to have it. I can't stand seeing her upset.”

“It's just a director's job. If she wants it, I'll let her have her fun.”

Chloe Sinclair.

The woman they'd brought in from outside to take the position I'd worked for.

Something I'd fought so hard to earn was just a toy she could have for the asking.

I blinked back the sting in my eyes, looked down at my phone, and answered the recruiter.

“Hi. I'd like to accept the offer in Pittsburgh.”

"They said I was just a piece of trash, only fit to be a substitute bride for the lunatic Abyssal Dragon Duke." I smirked, twisting the bone bracelet that sealed my venomous power. My fake sister wept pitifully, "Visenya, at worst, I'll bear the Duke's wrath myself." Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea. When the bloodthirsty Duke finally cornered me, he didn't tear me apart. Instead, he kissed my fingertips and chuckled. "So, my little bride, shall we slaughter the Emperor and take the throne for fun?" "Deal," I smiled. "But if you drag me down, I'll kill you too."

I was born able to see threads tying certain people to one another. A thin red thread stretched right above Mom and Dad’s heads.
I hurried over to Mom at once. “Mom, why is there a red thread connecting you and Dad?”
Mom laughed when she heard me, booping my nose fondly.
“That’s proof that Daddy loves me.”
Later, at our family gathering, Aunt Celia brought me a present just like she always did.
“Luna? Come see what Auntie brought you.”
I trotted over and found a cloth doll.
Just then, Dad walked up, knelt down beside me, and stroked my head.
“Luna, what do you say?”
I glanced up at Dad, then turned to look at Aunt Celia.
Little me was filled with huge confusion.
“It’s weird. Why is there such a thick red thread connecting Dad and Celia?”

On Halloween night, a sharp stench of chlorine and cheap booze woke me up.
I opened my eyes to a man grinning at the bedroom door.
It was my husband, David, soaking wet and showing off the liquor he’d vanished hours ago to buy.
I cursed him out, called him a liar, and demanded a divorce. He just kept that idiotic smile.
Then my phone rang. It was his best friend, Mark.
"Claire, David drowned drunk in the pool!"

Halfway through the family's celebration dinner, the big screen started looping a video nobody was meant to see.

A man and a woman half undressed on the bed. She kept her face turned from the camera.

He didn't — it was Kai Voss, the Don's most trusted capo, caught clean on film.

The ballroom went silent. At the head table, the Don's face turned to stone.

Her face stayed turned away the whole time. It didn't matter. The jaw, the hair, the way she moved — it was Liora Marrick. The Don's wife.

My sister.

A capo who touches his boss's wife doesn't lose his rank. He gets taken downstairs and never comes back.

Kai's eyes locked onto mine, begging and threatening at once.

I'd given him what he wanted once before. I'd stood up in this room and said the woman was me — because I loved him, and because Liora and I shared seven parts of the same face.

That lie bought me a wedding, a cellar, and a back-room table where Kai's rush to heal my sister cost me the ability to ever have children.

I died screaming.

Now I was back, and the screen was still looping.

Then I lifted a hand to my mouth.

"Oh. That woman in the video. Doesn't she look a lot like Liora?"

I thought I had finally married for love, that I had become the most cherished woman of a Mafia godfather.
Until I discovered the real reason he chose me in the first place.
For three years, Marcello Giovanni treated me as the most precious woman in the world.
Until the day I stumbled upon a hidden room, filled with hundreds of photographs—and every single woman in those photos looked exactly like me.
Then, I heard his underboss whisper:
"Boss said her eyes look just like Miss Camilla's."
I thought that even without real love, I could still keep living.
But I was wrong.
The moment Camilla came back from the dead, Marcello chose her without a single moment's hesitation.
And I was forced to jump into the ocean...

Five years ago, my family burned to death in an "accident."

My loving husband Clifford signed the papers himself—shipped me off to a mental institution without a second thought.

Inside, Becky carved up my face with shattered glass. The same orphan I'd put through school. Then she rebuilt herself to match my features and stole my life—my husband, my son, everything.

Now she marched into the clinic where I scrub floors, dragging my biological child behind her, demanding I apologize to him like some servant.

She has no idea what kind of monster she created.

I’ve had a lot of things stolen from me by my stepsister, Paloma Thorne.
My father, my boyfriend, my baby, my thesis, my future...
When I was twenty-two, I walked into the university lab and caught Paloma and my boyfriend, Milo, tangled naked together. I miscarried on the spot. Later, as I lay in the hospital bed, Paloma used a secretly recorded sex tape of Milo and me as blackmail, sealing off my last possible way out. I didn't scream or cry. I just signed the papers, grabbed my suitcase, and left.
In Calder City, I met the mafia don, Darius Harlow. He was calm, dominant, and gave me a sense of security so overwhelming it was almost suffocating. So, I married him.
It wasn't until four years later, when I returned to Ellsworth for Paloma's wedding, that the illusion shattered.
The night before the wedding, standing outside a closed door, I heard her voice.
"Darius, I was the one who let go seven years ago. Let me make it up to you tonight. Please?"
The next second, I heard my husband's heavy breathing.
Only then did I realize that for the past four years, I was nothing but Paloma's stand-in.

I'm a forensic audio specialist. I make a living digging up the truths people deliberately erase from static and noise.
My 19-year-old brother was accused of pushing a billionaire's bride to her death at her wedding.
The police presented their "smoking gun" recording. I heard exactly twelve seconds missing from it.
Those twelve seconds hold the truth about how the bride really died—and the billionaire family's dark secret that will get both me and my brother killed.
They smashed my equipment, threatened my life, bribed the cops, and tried to bury the truth forever.
But what they don't know is—
Some voices refuse to stay silent. Even when they're cut out.

Kade was my mate, my love, my future.

Until he rejected me in front of the entire pack—choosing another she-wolf over me.

Heartbroken and pregnant with his pup, I left, vowing never to look back.

Five years later, fate dragged me home. This time, I wasn’t the weak omega he cast aside.

But when Kade saw me again—saw our son—his golden eyes darkened.

“Mira, I—”

I met his gaze, my voice cold as ice. "Excuse me, Alpha. I have nothing to do with you.”

"Do it! Rape me!" She screamed, from the top of her lungs, challenging the beast in him.

He laughed, genuinely, loudly.
"You have no idea what you're doing to me, right, kitten?" he asked, reaching for his belt.

"That little biting your lip thingy, you do, whenever you check me out- it's driving me crazy.

The shivers traveling over your body, when I spanked you- turned me on so bad, I had to restrain myself from pinning your body against the wall, and fucking you in the hall.

And now, your scent, it's literally inviting me. I could smell your arousal from miles away, the scent making my mouth water and beast go crazy.

And your body- holy Moon Goddess- that body of yours is divine. Without a doubt, I could praise and savour it day after day, and never get tired."

***Evangeline is a simple human girl, born and raised in shifter dominated town. One day she is captured by a group of shifters and almost get raped, but she is saved by a masked man.

Doubts about the stranger's identity and fear of shifter remain in her mind until the night of human mating games when she's captured by her savior. The man who never took off the mask, a powerful shifter-Eros.

***PLEASE NOTE: This is a complete series collection for The Unwanted Alpha Series by  K. K. Winter. This includes and . Seperate books from the series are available on the author page.

-WARNING-This story may contain content that some may find disturbing.

“If you can’t satisfy me with your mouth, then you’ll have to satisfy me some other way.”

He ripped off her flimsy clothing and tossed the shredded fabric aside. Visenya panicked as she realized exactly what he was implying.

“Let me try again…with my mouth. I think I c...”

“Quiet!” His voice echoed off the walls of his bedchamber, silencing her on the spot.

This wasn’t the way she had imagined her first time would be. She pictured passionate kisses and gentle caresses from a man who loved and cherished her. Lucian wouldn’t be loving, and he certainly didn’t cherish her either. She had been cursed with a mate who was bent on revenge, wanting nothing more than to watch her suffer.


Ten years had passed since Dragons ruled over the world…since Visenya took her place as Lycan Queen. Vampires were forced into the shadows now that hunting and enslaving humans was punishable by death. The world was finally at peace…until Dragon Lord, Lucian woke from his induced sleep to discover that his entire race had been massacred by Visenya’s father. Visenya is stripped of her kingdom and forced to live out the rest of her days as Lucian’s slave. The cruelest joke of all is, Visenya learns that the mate she has been so faithfully waiting for all these years, is none other than the vengeful Dragon Lord himself.

Consumed by their hatred for each other, is it enough to fight the intense mate bond between them? Will Lucian push Visenya to her absolute limit, just to regret it all in the end?

“I Lucas Gray, Alpha of the Dark moon pack, denounce you Sophia Roman as a member of this pack!”


Sophia was denounced by her pack for shifting four years later than she was supposed too. Sophia thought that it was the end of her life, not knowing it was the beginning of a great adventure.

Two days after Sophia became a rogue, she was attacked by older rogues but was saved by the members of The Sky Blue pack. Sophia was later taken to the Alphas and realized that she is mated to both Alphas. She ran away, thinking they will reject her after all she was just an omega and a rogue. But to her surprise, they didn’t only accept but promise to take revenge on her old pack for what they did to her……