8623 Book(s) Related to the goddess and the wolf

My name is Evelyn. I grew up in the slums. Now, I'm the wife of Victor De Luca, head of New York's most feared mafia family.
Outsiders say I left him for money when he had nothing, then shamelessly came crawling back once he rose to power.
Only Victor and I know the truth. He paid five million dollars to drag me back, chain me here like a dog, and lock me away.
He married me, trapped me in this estate, and found new ways to break me every day.
He brought his mistress into our bed. He used his power to grind what was left of my dignity into dust.
But there's one thing he doesn't know.
I'm dying.
I have an inherited bone marrow failure disorder. The same disease that drained my mother dry. Now it's my turn.
Five years ago, I took the money and walked away. I let everyone call me every name they wanted because I couldn't make him watch me waste away.
I'm not afraid of death. I'm afraid of pain.
But it doesn't matter anymore.
This long, slow torture is almost over.

I catch my husband in bed with the live-in housekeeper.

He shoves her behind him. "She's only twenty. Barely out on her own, doesn't know any better. Can't you be the bigger person here?"

His mother points a finger in my face. "You're an orphan. If we hadn't taken you in, you'd still be out on the street begging."

"Be smart about this. Make room for Kaylee, so we can all live under one roof in peace."

They've both forgotten that back then he couldn't even make rent, and I worked three jobs to build his company for him.

Forgotten the year his company was going under, when I ran to three different banks across the city in a downpour chasing investors, passed out in the street, and lost the baby.

Four whole years of them looking down on me after that.

I say I want a divorce.

Preston just laughs at me. "You're a housewife. Walk out that door and you'll starve on the sidewalk by tomorrow."

I drag my suitcase onto the overnight bus and go home to a place I haven't set foot in for ten years.

It's the middle of the night when I get there. The streets are empty. Three men reeking of liquor block my way.

That hand is about to touch my face when a Harley roars up and stops right beside me.

The muscled guy on it has a cigarette in his mouth. He looks me over. "Need a hand?"

At my ex-wife's century wedding engagement banquet, she pointed at my nose and humiliated me publicly: "A waste of space who lays bricks, get out!"
Her wealthy new lover pressed my face hard into broken glass and forcibly dragged away my desperately crying five-year-old daughter.
I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth, drew the "Ghost Mark," and dialed the Pentagon hotline that had been dormant for five years.
Three seconds later, twelve Black Hawk helicopters shattered the dome, and a special task force descended from the sky. A two-star general, amid the terrified gazes of the assembled elite, saluted me with a thunderous: "Ghost Commander, troops have arrived as ordered!"
My ex-wife, who had been so arrogant just moments ago, instantly collapsed to the ground.

For three years, I paid so my sister could rebuild her life — her rent, her lawyers, her hospital bills, the shop she now runs in my name. Lucas, my fiance, always told me it was the right thing to do. I believed him, because believing him was easier than admitting how tired I was. I flew home two days early to surprise him. Instead, I opened my own front door and found my sister in his lap, wearing my robe, laughing in a voice I'd paid to keep happy for years. Ninety-nine empty perfume bottles stood along the wall — quiet witnesses to nights I never knew existed. Lucas didn't apologize. He asked me to be more understanding. My sister cried and called me cruel. I stood in the apartment I bought, surrounded by the people I built a home for, and realized I had never once been the one who got to be loved first.

"Mom, I don't need a baby brother or sister. I already have a sister."
I happily pulled out a pair of baby shoes, only for my seven-year-old son to violently snatch them and slam them into the trash can.
It was in that exact moment I discovered that the Alpha leader I had deeply loved for eight years had built a lavish underground mansion long ago—housing his mistress and secret daughter!
And my "obedient" son had been joining his father there every single month, playing happy family with them!
When the shock caused me to hemorrhage, leaving me lying alone on a freezing operating table undergoing a miscarriage, my husband was off comforting his mistress and illegitimate daughter.
In that instant, my love shattered completely. I relinquished custody of my son, left a signed divorce agreement, and walked away without looking back.

Minutes before the Stanford Hackathon began, my childhood friend decided to bail to help his girlfriend shoot a TikTok video.

I was just about to stop him when his inner voice suddenly exploded in my head: 'I actually got reborn?'

'Last time, I listened to Maeve and stayed for the competition, securing my spot at Stanford. But Sloane went to Malibu alone to shoot her video and fell off a cliff!"

'Even though I pushed Maeve off a roof to avenge her, I still lost the love of my life.'

'This time, I'm not losing Sloane. If Maeve dares to stop me again, I'll make her pay with her life all over again!'

My blood ran cold, and the words of persuasion died in my throat.

If he wanted his tragic romance so badly, he could have it.

In my past life, my Mafia Don husband left me and our unborn baby to burn just to save my half-sister.

Reborn, I watched him crush my fingers in a door to protect her once again.

"Hurt her, and we get a divorce," he sneered.

He thought the threat would break me. He didn't know his signature was already on the divorce papers hidden in my bag.

On the day of their lavish wedding, I took the hand of his deadliest rival, looked down from a helicopter, and pressed the detonator to his estate.

I am the Don Dante's wife, but my life runs through my husband's underboss who always seduce my husband, Elena.
I can't wear a coat without Elena's passcode.
My cards are monitored. My cash is approved. Dante calls it protocol. He calls it protection. He never asks why I wear the same faded sweater in winter.
I swallowed every humiliation because my mother's ventilator depended on his signature.
But Elena intentionally delayed funds for my mother’s medical treatment.
The brutal clash made me miscarry.
My mother died alone without timely treatment. I stopped filing all daily spending applications for three days straight.
Today he calls, calm and condescending, telling me the medical accounts are restored.
He thinks I'll fall back into line.
He doesn't know the only thing I'm requesting now is a signature—his, on the divorce papers.

I'd been out of Coldwater for two weeks when my family asked me to go back behind silver.

"It's three nights," Mom said. "You did three years. Three nights won't kill you."

They had no idea it would. I'm dying. The only thing still holding my body together is my mate bond, and three nights away from Silas is all it will take.

For three years in Coldwater, a parcel came for me every month. A blanket, a sweater—something that smelled like home. I slept wrapped in them every night, sure it meant my family hadn't given up on me.

It was my twin sister who sent them.

I didn't know what she'd soaked them in.

In my past life, I kindly took in my girlfriend and brother, only to be pushed into a torrent of acid rain and melted alive. When I opened my eyes again, I was back a month before the apocalypse, only to find that my girlfriend had also been reborn! She was secretly plotting on the balcony to drain my assets to build her and her best male friend's post-apocalyptic love nest? I scoffed, decisively sold all my possessions, and bought a private island in the Pacific to build a top-tier fortress. When the mutated red rain descended and zombies swept the globe, I sipped iced whiskey in a temperature-controlled greenhouse, quietly watching that despicable couple starve and die in their Los Angeles penthouse, tearing each other apart like wild dogs for survival…

I died on the night of my eighteenth graduation party, pushed off a rooftop by the two people I trusted most.

In my past life, I was the ultimate fool.

When my two childhood friends—both heirs to top elite families—decided to throw away their futures, I panicked.

They actually wanted to reject their admission offers from Harvard and Yale.

All to follow Lily, a charity case from the slums, to a literal no-name trade school called Sunny Valley Vocational Academy.

I begged them to stop.

I even used my family's connections to try and get Lily into a legitimate university.

But Lily wept in front of them, claiming my money insulted her dignity, and that I was just jealous of their "pure love."

Liam and Noah completely lost their minds.

That night, they cornered me on the roof.

"Vivian, you killed Lily. Go to hell!"

As it turned out, Lily went to that trash school alone and committed suicide.

They blamed me entirely for her death, nursing that grudge until they finally pushed me into the abyss.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the exact day we were supposed to lock in our college choices.

This time, count me out.

I had the gift of beast-speech, and beasts never lied to me.
When my sister, Valora, brought me a wild berry tart, a forest finch shrieked, "Poison!" In my past life, I believed it. I flipped the tray, cursed her, and was thrown into the dungeon like a madwoman. In this life, I did the opposite. I ate it. I vomited blood, and my spirit wolf died instantly.
When it was time to marry, a raven warned me that my Alpha fiancé was a "disfigured madman." In my past life, I broke the engagement and married a Beta, only to be tortured to death by him and his mistress. In this life, I insisted on marrying the Alpha. But on my wedding night, a blood-soaked, disfigured monster was waiting for me.
When my mother-in-law, Liora, coughed up blood in front of everyone, a nightingale cried, "Give her White Dittany for the poison!" In my past life, I force-fed her the herb, and she bled from her eyes and died. In this life, I stopped anyone from giving her the herb. But that night, she died anyway.
Listen to them, and I die. Ignore them, and I still die.
Then, I opened my eyes. I had been reborn, back to the exact moment everything went wrong...

My pre-wedding party was in full swing.

 

Yet, the center of attention wasn't me, but Julian's childhood sweetheart, Blair. She had just announced she was auctioning off her "first kiss."

 

My fiancé, Julian, bought that kiss without a second thought.

 

Amidst the roaring cheers of the crowd, they locked lips. They looked like the perfect match, made in heaven.

 

In that moment, I didn't cry. I didn't make a scene.

 

I casually pulled out my phone and replied to the email from the Paris headquarters: "I accept. I am ready to start immediately."

I made Sebastian Grant date me for a year because I'd saved his life.
Even though he couldn't stand me, I pressed myself against him when he tried to leave, traced my fingers down his chest when he turned away.
When his friends talked trash, I left marks on his neck and sent him out where everyone could see them.
Then an anonymous text arrived: [I'm the one you saved that day. Not Sebastian.]
The photo attached turned my face white.
What would Sebastian do when he found out?

On my birthday, my husband hands me a snow-white hamster with a smile and says keeping it in the house will bring us good luck.

My seven-year-old son names it Snow.

But the second I see its red eyes, my blood runs cold.

Because in my last life, I got the exact same gift on this exact same day.

Back then I treated it like something precious. I fed it the best food, bought it the biggest cage, cleaned out the shavings every single day.

And every night it burrowed into my blankets, bit through the skin at my wrist and my throat, and drank my blood a little at a time until there was almost none left.

I begged my husband to get rid of it. All he said was that I was paranoid, that I was faking being sick to get attention.

My son planted himself in front of the cage and screamed that Snow was better behaved than me.

Then, on our wedding anniversary, I collapsed in the bathroom and never woke up.

My spirit drifted near the ceiling, and only then did I finally see it.

That hamster climbed down off my body and turned into a woman in a white dress, and threw herself into my husband's arms.

His eyes went red and he said now that she'd drained me dry, she could finally take her real shape again.

My son ran to her and sweetly called her "Hamster Mommy."

It turned out the thing was my husband's old love, the one who'd died young. He'd used black magic to hide her inside a pet's body.

And I was nothing but a container. A blood supply.

Now my eyes are open again, and the cut on my finger is still warm.

This time, I won't let a single one of them get away.

Six days after Alexander lost all contact, I navigated my way alone to the Nightfall Gala to find him.

The guard's expression twisted into something peculiar when he heard my purpose.

"You're saying you are looking for your mate, Prince Alexander? And what is your name?"

"I am Cecilia."

The guard let out a harsh, mocking snort. "Stop causing a scene! A blind beggar trying to pull a scam? Don't think you can just impersonate her just because you know the name of the Prince's mate."

"Everyone knows the Prince just gifted Cecilia the millennia-old Abyssal Night Crystal to celebrate her pregnancy! What the hell are you?"

Just then, the giant LED screen cut to the Gala's live broadcast.

"Allow me to formally introduce my partner, Cecilia. Furthermore, she is expecting. Our family is about to welcome a new heir." It was Alexander's voice.

"Thank you all. This is the greatest gift Alexander and I could ever receive."

The moment that sweet, timid voice echoed through the hall, a string violently snapped in my brain. A sharp ringing pierced my eardrums.

—It was the voice of my twin sister, Elena.

"Only one life jacket left!" a crewman shouted as the cruise ship sank.
My husband, Captain Harrison, looked torn between me—his pregnant wife—and Emma, his first love.
Last time, he gave me the jacket, intending to die with Emma. But he survived, and she drowned. To avenge her, he smothered our newborn. "You stole her life," he snarled. I killed him for my baby, bleeding out beside him.
Waking to the deafening sirens, I realize I’ve been reborn. This time, who will get that final life jacket?

"Are you out of your mind?"

"The scouts are coming tomorrow, and you want to ditch the regional finals just to take care of her after a botched cosmetic procedure?"

I tipped off the school board to stop him from ruining his life.

Because of me, he won the championship and secured his draft pick. But because he stood her up, his girlfriend dumped him.

Years later, he sat at the top of a billion-dollar sports enterprise, while I was a researcher working for him.

Out of nowhere, he brought a carbon-fiber hockey stick down on my hands, crushing my finger bones to splintered dust

"Maeve, you cold, calculating machine," he spat. "This is your karma."

When I opened my eyes again, the agonizing pain was gone.

I had just been given a second chance.

My ex-boyfriend wrote a hit song about me. He told the whole world I dumped him for being poor, painting me as the heartless ex who took nothing but his dog when I left.
I let him believe it. It was easier for him to hate me than to watch me decay.
A year later, he was on national television, his arm wrapped around a beautiful new starlet. When the host brought up our sudden breakup, Evan laughed coldly.
"I'd pay to see her face right now," he told the audience. "As long as she's living a pathetic life, I can finally move on."
The host didn't laugh. Instead, he stared at Evan with a heavy gaze.
"She hasn't been living a pathetic life, Evan. Actually, she sent us these recordings... before she died."

My husband's mistress sent me a video to rub it in, claiming she had just beaten my "pathetic, begging mother" bloody and kicked her down the stairs.
I froze, glancing up at my actual mother sitting right across from me, quietly sipping her coffee.
Bewildered, I zoomed in on the video.
When I made out the scar on the wrist of the woman lying in the pool of blood, a cold sweat broke out over my body. I frantically called my husband.
But he interrupted my plea with extreme impatience: "Shut up! Roxy was right to teach her a lesson. She was just taking out the trash for me!"
Since he insisted on indulging his precious mistress's death wish...
I wonder if he'll still be able to say she was right to teach her a lesson when he sees his own grandmother's corpse.

I used to believe my husband was my hero. When Julian Miller’s empire was falling apart, I made a desperate choice to save him. I spent a night in the suite of his fiercest competitor, Arthur Vance. Julian called me his hero and said he trusted me.

But he was lying to me for five long years.

Everything changed in an instant. Watching our daughter hang from a broken roller coaster, Julian didn’t attempt to save her. Instead, he reached for his phone to call his mistress.

To him, she wasn’t a child in peril; she was just a chance to wipe out a 'mistake' and start fresh with someone who had been in our lives since the very beginning of our marriage.

Now, people see me as a heartbroken mother and an ashamed wife. Julian thinks he’s buried me under his web of lies and his influence. But he overlooked one crucial point: I have nothing more to lose, and I'm ready to settle a score.

With the one man Julian fears most by my side, I’m stepping back into the light. And by the time I’m through, he’ll understand that the woman he treated like a pawn is the very one who will bring his whole world crashing down.

To fulfill my twin sister Chloe’s arranged marriage, I became Landon Moore’s stand-in bride.
For three years, I played the role of the gentle, obedient wife—cooking soup to warm his stomach, sharing his bed on lonely nights, and even taking care of his beloved ‘sister’, Shannon. When he was drunk and stumbled into my room, I endured it all in silence.
Everyone mocked me for being pathetic, a dog begging for scraps of affection. Even Landon sneered coldly, “I will never love you.”
Until the day he stabbed me three times—for Shannon. The world blurred into a sea of blood. I smiled as I closed my eyes, took the fifty million he transferred to me, and vanished without a trace.
Years later, he found me deep in the mountains, kneeling in the mud like a madman, begging me to come home. But by then, I had built schools, with my grandmother, lived a life that glowed with its own light.

On the third anniversary of our bond, I pushed open the private room door, my heart full of hope—only to see Chisel on one knee, leaning in to kiss Sylvia. In that instant, every thread of love and trust inside me snapped.
“What are you doing?” My voice trembled; tears blurred my vision.
Chisel looked up at me, eyes full of irritation. “Enough, Leah. Stop putting on that wounded look. We were just playing a game. I lost, that’s all. Why are you angry?”
I could no longer bear the betrayal. After losing our pup, something inside me died completely. I decided to break the mate bond, to end this painful, scarred union once and for all.
Even as Chisel kept apologizing, swearing he would change, I no longer believed him. My voice went cold:
“Even if I forgive you, our pup never will.”
I left the home that had once been full of love and hope, flying toward a new world that would be mine alone.

I was reborn on the very night George White—Don of the White family—was drugged and lost his mind to pure, animal lust.
This time, I didn't offer myself as the cure.
Instead, I gave him the woman he truly wanted. My sister.

In my past life, I fell in love with the Don of the White family. George.
When I learned he'd been drugged—stripped of every shred of reason—I made the choice I could never take back.
I didn't push him away. A month later, I was pregnant.
The family council forced him to marry me. For the heir. For the name. For everything except love.
On the morning of our wedding, my sister Leah couldn't bear it. She fled the estate alone.
That night, a rival family's killers found her.
Before she died, she called George ninety-nine times.
But George was at my wedding. The wedding I had begged for. So he never answered. Not once.

Lisa Winston, a beautiful and hardworking waitress in Pennsylvania, meets billionaire Williams O'Connell, who she mistakenly believes is poor after he can't pay for his meal due to a stolen phone. Touched by her kindness, Williams becomes interested in her. Lisa's mother needs a costly surgery, and despite her desperation, a lecherous billionaire named Mr. Kendrick tries to take advantage of her. Williams rescues Lisa, leading to an unplanned night together.

At 23, Aeryn is already making waves in the scientific community—fair, bold, and driven by a relentless passion for the unknown. As part of a multinational team, she's been dedicated to the pursuit of one of humanity’s greatest questions: are we alone in the universe? The answer seems to be within reach when they pick up signals from a distant planet, confirming the existence of alien life. But as the team prepares for the next step into a mission that requires sending a human to this otherworldly realm, they abandon Aeryn, leaving her behind just as the stakes reach their peak.

On the alien planet, Alex is as king,a being of immense strength and unparalleled powers. Yet, there’s a void, a missing piece that threatens not just his rule, but the survival of his entire kingdom. His powers are vast but insufficient until he gets coupled and consummates the bond with his chosen bride. Without this, his powers remain incomplete, and the very existence of his people teeters on the brink of extinction. The search for his queen becomes a race against time, with the fate of his kingdom hanging in the balance.

My family let me die. My fiancé watched. My sister smiled.
I was the real daughter, dragged from the orphanage to donate my bone marrow, then thrown away like garbage. When the monsters came for the imposter, they shielded her and left me to rot.
But death wasn’t the end. It was a deal.
I woke with a system tethered to my pulse—one that trades public admiration for the power to survive.​ And behind these hands are two identities they never suspected: the legend whose music they worship, and the ghost in the machine who owns their secrets.
They think I’m back to beg for love.
They’re wrong. I’m here to collect.
This time, I won’t just take back my music and my name. I’ll make them need me—right before I watch them lose everything.
They wanted me erased.
I’m about to become the only name that matters.

When Fairview University abruptly cuts the women’s hockey program, Ava Hale’s Olympic dreams are practically dead. Her only shot at staying on the ice is taking an unprecedented walk-on tryout for the brutal, championship-hungry men’s Division 1 team.
Walking into an all-male locker room is bad enough. Dealing with Liam Reed, the arrogant 6’2” captain determined to run her off the ice, makes it worse.
But Liam isn’t the real danger.
The real danger is the new head coach, Dominic Carter. Brooding, ruthless, and an ex-hockey prodigy whose NHL career was ended by a severe knee injury, Dominic rules the rink with an iron fist.
He also happens to be Ava’s brand-new stepbrother.
With their newlywed parents away on a four-month European honeymoon, Ava and Dominic are left completely alone in the same house.
At the rink, he treats her like a stranger to keep their secret safe. But late at night behind closed doors, the forbidden heat between them threatens to destroy his career, her roster spot, and both of their lives.

"You're using the embryo that you and Serena made and letting Wendy think that the children she's carrying are hers! Damn, man.I can't believe that you could do something like that to your wife." Adrian's friend said, sounding shocked.
"She deserves it," Adrian replied, followed by his friend's laughter. "She's the reason why Serena broke up with me back then."
What would you do if your husband used your womb to have children with his ex?
Wendy sacrificed everything for her marriage. She endured endless hormone shots, cruel whispers, and quiet humiliation, all to give her husband the children he wanted. When the IVF finally succeeded, she believed she had saved her marriage.
Until the day she overheard the truth. The twins she had fought so hard to carry were never meant to be hers. Her husband never wanted a child with her. She was nothing more than a surrogate in her own marriage.
Determined to find answers, Wendy stormed into the hospital. Fate delivered a twist no one could have seen coming: her husband was severely infertile. The IVF had failed. The babies growing inside her belonged to another man.
Wendy walked away with no tears and no second chances.
But Adrian, the man who once betrayed her, came begging for reconciliation.
"Wendy, we can fix this. We can start over."
Too late.
Because somewhere in the same city, Julian Harrington, the untouchable, relentless, and enigmatic CEO who rules the city's business empire, is searching for the mother of his twins.

I was the female warrior of the Silver Claw Pack, destined to be Beta.
Until the eve of the selection trials.
That was when they hit me with wolfsbane, then trapped me inside a fire they set on purpose. The flames took my face. Almost took my wolf.
I thought it was an accident. Right up until I heard my Alpha mate say to my mother:
"She just lost her looks. But Celia lost her confidence. She owed her that."
Turns out, my mother was the one who locked the door. My mate was the one who pushed me into the fire. So Celia could become Beta without me in the way.
Later, they trapped me in a second fire. They stood there and watched me burn.
They thought I was dead.
What they don't know is that I crawled back out of those flames.
Three years later, when I take my place on the throne as the strongest Beta alive, I'll make sure every single one of them understands.
Fire never destroyed me. It just burned away their last way out.

In my past life, the night before the National Cheerleading Championship finals, my "best friend" Lily, the scholarship student I'd been sponsoring, handed me a brownie she claimed she'd "baked herself."

She knew I had a deadly peanut allergy. Yet she'd loaded it with concentrated peanut butter.

When I collapsed on the locker room floor, hives erupting across my skin, my throat swelling shut until I couldn't make a sound, Lily just covered her mouth and nestled into my boyfriend Liam's arms, whimpering: "I'm so sorry, Chloe. I'm such an idiot. I mixed up the peanut butter with chocolate... you won't blame me, right?"

Of course I blamed you.

The quarterback I'd loved for three years didn't call 911. Instead, he frowned down at me convulsing on the ground.

"Chloe, stop faking, okay?" Liam's voice dripped with annoyance. "Lily already apologized. Why do you have to put on this dramatic show to scare her? You're always so controlling."

Controlling?

My airway was closing. My lungs were on fire. I was dying, and I couldn't force out a single word to tell him.

They didn’t call an ambulance until I stopped moving, but by the time it got there, it was too late. I was already dead.

When the police questioned him, Liam gave false testimony to protect Lily. He claimed I was afraid of losing the competition, so I tried to use an allergic reaction to avoid competing, but accidentally ingested too much of the allergen and died.

The man who said he loved me let me die with the reputation of a coward.

When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on that day.

36 weeks pregnant, I was thrown into the dungeon by my own husband.

When my water broke, I desperately reached out through the mate bond, calling for him—only to discover that he had severed it with his own hands.

They lashed my swollen belly with leather whips. They injected wolfsbane into my veins. And when my baby's head began to crown, they shoved her back inside me.

All because his sister-in-law Genevieve was also in labor today—and her child had to be born as the pack's heir.

I crawled out of that dungeon, drenched in my own blood, only to find him blocking the doorway.

I knelt at his feet, clutching at his trousers, begging. "The baby is innocent. Please... just let me deliver her..."

He kicked me away in disgust. "Wait until Genevieve is done."

Later, fireworks lit up the sky. The entire pack celebrated the birth of Genevieve's heir.

I was dumped in a water cell, watching my blood slowly turn the ice-cold water crimson, feeling my daughter grow still inside me.

Only after he'd gazed adoringly at the newborn in Genevieve's arms did he finally remember me. He sent someone to fetch me from the dungeon.

But his servant returned white-faced, voice trembling:

"Alpha! The Luna... she and the baby... they're both dead!"

Warning : 21+

"I want you two to make love right in front of my eyes!" He said. My heart neqarly jumped at the sound. Did I mishear or what?

"What do you mean I made love to her? Are you crazy?" Jacob demanded.

"That's my biggest fantasy, Jake! Watching my girlfriend have sex with my best friend or my brother. I wonder if I'll get jealous or join in on the wild game."


Henry William Haydn, a charismatic man of perfection. He became a company director at a young age, living a life of moral values and dignity. But who would have thought that behind the moral wall he always displayed throughout his life, there lurked wild, sometimes unreasonable fantasies.


Amy Evangelista, a simple woman who grew up on the beaches of Bali, realizes her dream of working for a prestigious company in Australia. But her dreams grow even higher when Henry, the company director, is attracted to her simplicity and beauty.


Jacob Andreas Haydn, Henry's cousin, who suffers from a "Brother Complex" and considers Henry the most important person in his life. Jacob, a cold, perfectionist, and sharp-tongued genius, has for months positioned himself as the "Hater" to Amy, whom he considers a stupid woman unworthy of being his beloved brother's girlfriend.

A complicated relationship and crazy love lead them to be trapped in a vortex of traps they call "Fetish"

After being brought home by my biological parents, I thought I'd finally get the love I'd been missing.

But no matter what I did, they only blamed me for bullying my adopted sister. My husband would just look at me with disgust.

They thought I was cruel and evil. When my adopted sister was diagnosed with leukemia, they forced me to donate bone marrow to her.

I was forced to eat and exercise, gaining twenty pounds in half a month.

My adopted sister suddenly looked at me and said, "Sis, to tell you the truth, I don't have leukemia at all. I'm just playing with you. When you die on the operating table, I'll be with your husband."

I felt so sick I wanted to die.

But I couldn't die.

I had to survive.

I had to crawl out of this hell alive!

Everyone said I was just a shadow of Ethan, that I was nothing without him.
So during the tryouts, to comfort his "scared" sweetheart, he let go mid-jump, almost costing me my life.
He was betting I couldn't leave him, that I'd forgive him like I did the last eighteen times.
But he lost.
This time, I didn't cry or throw a fit.
I simply tossed the apartment key that symbolized our seven years together into the trash, then turned and walked toward my own world championship.

Translation

Zombies besieged the city. I fought through the infected zone alone and brought back the vaccine.

All of humanity hailed me as their savior.

But at the medal ceremony, my superior and fiancée Amy shoved me aside. "You're covered in blood. Stand over there. Would it kill you to be more like David?"

"A man who can't even bear to look at violence—that's what a civilized person looks like."

For the sake of being her idea of civilized, I locked away my weapons and spent three years as her errand boy. I took countless bullets meant for her, and still she complained I wasn't gentle enough.

Then the virus mutated. To save David, I crushed a Tyrant's skull with my bare hands.

She threw her arms around the trembling David, slammed the table, and screamed at me: "If you don't get this violent streak under control, you can forget about being the Chief's husband. Apologize to David. Now."

The vaccine I'd risked my life for—she used every last drop of it to win favor with her pretty boy.

I ejected the magazine from my rifle and tossed my medal into the rubble.

"That position of yours? Give it to whoever you want."

I spent six years trying to warm an emotionally distant husband and raising a son who learned to copy his coldness. On the day my civil assault case went to trial, they flew to Switzerland to comfort my husband's ex-girlfriend. When my five-year-old admitted he had deleted the strongest video evidence because he didn't want Vanessa to cry, the last bit of love in me went quiet. By the time they realized a wife and mother could stop chasing them, I had already chosen divorce, distance, and a life that belonged to me.

My childhood sweetheart, Philip Mitchell, was a hockey prodigy.
When he wanted to throw away his Olympic qualifiers to take care of his sick girlfriend, I told his coach and his mother.
Because of me, he was dragged back to the ice. He won the Olympic gold, secured a spot at Harvard, and eventually became a billionaire sports agent.
I, however, ended up with nothing.
During a public practice, he swung his hockey stick with full force—right into my eye.
As blood blinded my vision and my retina detached, he looked down at me with pure disgust. "You ruined her life, Arabella. This is your karma."
When I opened my eyes again, I wasn't in the hospital.
I was back in the locker room at seventeen, right before everything went wrong.

Nine months pregnant and about to give birth, my husband Zane locked me in the wine cellar.
All because his widowed business partner, Elena, was also giving birth today.
"You almost made Elena go into labor early. You need to think about what you've done."
Agonizing contractions wracked my body. I dropped to my knees, begging him, "Zane, please─the baby is coming now! He will die!"
He just shoved me down the cold stone steps, his eyes icy cold.
"Stop lying! Your due date isn't today. You'll do anything for attention, won't you?"
"Tonight, only Elena's safety matters. You'll stay here until you admit you were wrong!"
The heavy wooden door slammed shut, snuffing out the last bit of hope I had left.
Hours later, Zane was cradling Elena's newborn son, calling the maid.
"Elena had a boy. I couldn't be happier. Let my wife out—I'm willing to forgive her little tantrum today."
But on the other end of the phone, the maid was sobbing.
"Sir... your wife and the baby... they're already gone."

The dealership called to inform me that my Rolls-Royce Starlight Headliner had been replaced with a pink one and was ready for pickup.
I was bewildered. I hadn't driven that car in ages—why would anyone change the headliner without my knowledge?
I confronted my husband, who managed our garage, demanding an explanation.
"Honey, maybe they got their wires crossed. I'll swing by the dealership later and sort it out."
I wasn't about to waste my breath. Instead, I called my friend directly—she happened to own the dealership.
"William's having an affair. I'm going to catch him red-handed."

In her previous life, Clara Bennett was switched at birth and ended up in the hands of a greedy adoptive family. Betrayed and used, she met a tragic end.

Given a second chance, Clara chooses to walk away from the Bennett family and returns to her poor but loving biological parents, the Howards. Everyone thinks she'll regret giving up her life as a wealthy heiress.

But no one expected the truth—Clara is actually the CEO of a powerful corporation. Not only does she lift the Howards out of poverty, she also marries the heir of a billionaire family.

This time, she's not just surviving. She's reclaiming her life and rewriting her destiny.

Ashley Carter never imagined her wedding day would end with her being kidnapped by a total stranger. Even more confusing? The man who took her, Charles Blackwood, claims she's his bride. But Ashley has never seen him before in her life.

Charles, a powerful and cold-hearted CEO, is used to getting what he wants—and now, he wants Ashley. Though she doesn't remember him, he's determined to make her his, body and soul. He showers her with relentless affection and overwhelming desire, leaving her no room to escape his grasp.

Ashley tries to resist his overbearing charm, but Charles is persistent. Every touch, every kiss, pulls her deeper into a world of passion and obsession. She may not know who he is, but he's about to make sure she never forgets him again.

But can love truly grow from such a twisted beginning? Or is she just a pawn in his dangerous game of desire?

Lydia Abbott once loved Henry Lawson with everything she had. For ten years, she endured his cruelty, his silence, and the weight of a crime she didn't commit. After a tragic accident took his father's life and left him in a wheelchair, Lydia became the scapegoat—the daughter of a killer. He adopted her, only to torment her with relentless cruelty.

Betrayed, imprisoned, and stripped of her child, Lydia nearly lost her life. When she reached her lowest point, all she received was his cold words: "You deserved it."

But the truth always finds its way back. When the lies unravel and Henry finally sees what he destroyed, it's already too late. Lydia vanishes in an explosion that leaves only ashes behind.

Five years later, she returns—not as his silent bride, but as a world-renowned scientist, powerful, untouchable, and breathtaking. She looks him in the eye and says with a smile, "Henry Lawson, everything you owed me, I'll take back—twice over."

This time, she's not the one begging to stay. He is.

“My world is a mess; you want nothing to do with this"
“You don't have the right to decide that for me." Her chest was heaving, harsh breaths scraping the walls of her nose. “I am your wife, and I am choosing to be in your mess."
He grabbed the back of her head and pulled her closer. “This is your last chance. Once you step in, I can never let go."
"I'm not planning on it."

Jade Saint, who was switched at birth, is coerced into an arranged marriage after returning to the Sterling home. That is, until Roman Volkov – the richest and most dangerous man in the city – claims her as his bride.
Desperate to save her dying adoptive mother, she willingly enters into a contract marriage with the devil himself.
But marriage to Roman is not what she thinks it is – not the enemies lurking in the shadows. Not the dangerous world he refuses to explain, and certainly not the way his cold touch begins to feel like a promise instead of a warning.
Because the more she tries to understand him, the more she realises he didn’t choose her by accident.
And the truth behind it all may destroy her.

Moira wasn't the Luna he wanted. To strengthen the alliance, her father sacrificed her with a classic trap so that she could marry Alpha Jude Hammer from The Night Hunter Pack.
The plan worked, but for seven years, Moira felt no happiness or love from Jude. Then, one day, she finds out the reason—Jude has found his fated mate.
Heartbroken, especially since she had lost everything, Moira filed for divorce, left the company, and started a new life.


I was startled by the commotion outside the apartment. It was unusually quiet for eight o’clock, and the sound I heard... I decided to check it out.
Someone was standing at the door, which I opened hastily to confirm. Instead of peace, I found a new problem.
Jude held the door, forcing his way in and locking it. He closed the distance between us, pinning me against the wall, so close that I could feel the warmth of his breath on my face. His strong arms wrapped around my waist, so stiff and tight.
My heart skipped a beat, not because of lingering love for him, but because I felt disturbed by his presence.
"What the hell are you doing here, Jude? You have Bella, don't drag me in. You shouldn't be here," I snapped, but it didn't faze him at all.
"Screw Bella! I came to confirm something." He moved again, closer, so that our lips almost touched.
“Are you drunk? Go home. You will only cause me problems. We'd been divorced, remember?” I said, trying to gently push him away.
“What? Divorced? Don’t even think about it, Wifey. I didn't sign it. NEVER. Means, you’re still my wife. You're MINE.”

This story is about a young girl trying to find her way out from under her mothers roof and away from her pimp. She is still a high school student who is just trying to survive under the same roof as her mother and her mothers pimp. All she was is to continue to be invisible, but her body and her mothers pimp are determined to break her every step of the way.

They bred me to be sold--a doll, a bargain, a tool with a crown.
When they gave me to Alric, the werewolf Alpha every soldier fears, I expected chains.
Instead, he saw me. Chose me. Made me feel, for the first time in twenty years, like I was worth something more than my price.
Then my father showed me what he truly is--eyes burning red, hands that can stop a heart between one breath and the next.
Savage. Inhuman. Utterly beyond anything I was ever prepared for.
He saved me. I don't doubt that.
But he is a wolf. I am human.
No amount of tenderness changes what lives underneath his skin--or the fact that the moon goddess never made us for each other.
He reaches for me like I'm something worth keeping.
I'm just not sure I'm brave enough to believe it.
Because what do you do when the only person who ever made you feel alive is the one person you were never meant to love?

After three years of a secret marriage, my husband refused to pay for a life-saving surgery—
yet spent a fortune on another woman.

I filed for divorce.

He thought I would come back, broken and begging.

Instead, I picked up my scalpel again.

While my ex-husband looked down on me, I saved countless lives.

When my breakthrough medicine won an international award,
and the world’s richest man proposed to me,
my ex-husband finally lost his mind—
showing up at my proposal ceremony too late to stop anything.

To save my family from ruin, I signed a contract to become the billionaire CEO's fake wife—but I never expected his possession to feel this real.
Maya Sullivan was trying to save her father. She never imagined he would repay her loyalty by signing her away.
Five hundred million dollars. That was the price of his debt. And Maya was the collateral. Silas Blackwood doesn't want a mistress. He wants an image.
With the public watching Blackwood Holdings and whispers circling his name, Silas needs a distraction—a loyal assistant at his side, a convincing girlfriend, a flawless future wife. And Maya will play every role he assigns.
"I don't marry for love," Silas tells her calmly. "I marry for advantage." Inside the Blackwood mansion, rules are strict, privacy is an illusion, and weakness is never tolerated.
By day, Maya stands beside him in tailored dresses and practiced smiles. By night, she lies awake in a house that never truly feels safe.
It's supposed to be an act. A carefully planned performance. But the longer she lives with Silas, the harder it becomes to tell what's real.
The resentment between them or the way his touch lingers a second too long. Because in the Blackwood world, everything has a price. And falling for Silas might cost Maya far more than her freedom.

Scarlett is out of options. Her ex, Caleb, has framed her, fired her, and left her destitute. In a desperate bid for justice, she storms his wedding, only to be thrown out into the rain—and straight into the path of Alpha Carter Blackwood.
Carter is everything Caleb isn't: lethal, protective, and impossibly wealthy. But he’s also a forbidden fruit.
Caleb thought he was throwing away trash, but he just hand-delivered the Alpha his new obsession.
"Carter..."
His face kept coming closer until his breath ghosted over my lips.
And he took the next step; he didn't wait. He closed the gap, his hand tangling into my messy hair, pulling me toward him.
His lips crashed onto mine.
He groaned against my mouth, and his hand slid down to my waist, pulling me onto his lap completely. My mind blank. Just fire. And submission as my arse glided on his groin.
I kissed him back. I wasn't thinking—I can't, my body seemed to move on its own, reacting to whatever was wrong with him.
And my body was starting to love whatever was wrong with us.
Heat pooled underneath my damp pants.