4003 Book(s) Related to my football star ex begs me back

"You have no house to go to, no money, no friends and no child to drain me of child support. Don't be stubborn. You know you'll die without me, I'm your only family left." Once again that proud tone was sneered at me.

"I worry for you." Devon’s eyes glimmered waiting for me to go on my knees and beg him.

I shake my head. "Worry about yourself Devon. Do you really think you'd go scott free after the shit you pulled today? You couldn't even let me mourn my baby in peace." I searched for his gaze, my eyes burrowing into his.

"I promise you, if not today, one-day Devon. I'll make you wish you were dead."


Corrie North gave Devon Remington everything.

Amazing sex? She gave him her body.

A devoted house-wife? She abandoned her career for him.

A fucking maid? She scrubbed every inch of his sprawling mansion.

A child? She nearly died bringing their son, Haven, into the world.

And how did he repay her?

Devon betrayed her.

He cheated with a younger woman, handed her divorce papers, and vanished on the day their son died in a mysterious accident.
Two months later, he finally showed up to Haven's funeral, with his pregnant mistress on his arm.
As if that wasn’t enough, he accused Corrie of murdering their child.

Devastated, Corrie vowed revenge. She vanished from Devon’s life, promising that everyone who played a part in Haven’s death would pay, including him.

Four years later she returns and Devon wants her back. He’ll do anything to make her his again.

But Corrie isn’t the same woman he left behind.
Will she make him pay for his betrayal , or will old flames pull her back into the arms of the man who destroyed her?

Nicole had loved Samuel for five years, but ultimately it was him who brought her pain and cheated on their marriage. And when she had risked her life to carry his baby, Samuel had no regards for her nor her baby!
Nicole thought she could win his heart, but a serious fire destroyed her and wiped out her love for him.
Five years later, Nicole came back as a cold, unfeeling psychopath . This time around, she was no longer the same lady who lost everything because of love.
With her new found strength, she will step on those scums who brought her pain in the past and pretended to be pure in the face of this earth.
Now, she wanted to avenge herself and bring Samuel Green down.

When my boyfriend was a child, a maid sacrificed herself to save him from a fire. Afterward, his wealthy family adopted her daughter. Ever since, he tied himself to this adopted sister, giving her everything she demanded to repay that debt of gratitude.
Jealous of me, she framed and sabotaged me time and time again. And out of guilt, he always took her side.
Until one day, just to make her happy, he abandoned me in a freezing blizzard deep in the mountains.
Hunted by a hitman, I called him for help in desperation. Instead, I heard them laughing and clinking wine glasses over the phone.
"Stop faking your death," he scoffed. "And pick up some pizza on your way back." Then, he hung up.
He didn't know that the hitman hunting me down was hired by her for $50,000.
And he definitely didn't know that the "debt" he worshipped for years was built on a horrifying lie. During that fire years ago, the maid could have escaped. It was his precious adopted sister who deliberately locked the door, burning her own mother alive just so she could be taken in by his rich family.
At my birthday banquet, he planned to publicly humiliate me with a prank video, then step in to propose with a diamond ring like a "savior."
But when the giant screen lit up, it didn't show my humiliation. It broadcasted the ironclad proof of his sister hiring my killer and murdering her own mother!
Meanwhile, I was already sitting in first class on a flight to Paris.
Amidst the wailing police sirens, that was when he finally realized what a massive, unforgivable mistake he had made.

As a bestselling paranormal romance writer, I've killed off villains, rejected cheating Alphas, and handed out happy endings for years.
Turns out, writing about betrayal is a lot easier than living through it.
I caught my fiancé, Alpha Kael Draven, in bed with my stepsister. They expected tears, screaming, maybe a dramatic slap or two.
I gave them a smile instead.
Nothing bruises a cheating Alpha's ego faster than realizing his mate doesn't care enough to fight over him.
Just when I thought I'd survived the worst day of my life, the most feared Lycan in the country arrived at our pack, and suddenly everyone forgot about the affair and started acting like I was the real problem.
Now my cheating fiancé won't let me out of his sight, my delusional stepsister is determined to steal a title that was never hers, and a dangerous Lycan keeps looking at me like he's been waiting for me his entire life.
The funny thing?
I've written this story before.
Or... at least I thought I had.
Because this one refuses to follow my plot, the characters won't obey me, and I'm beginning to suspect the Moon Goddess never bothered reading my books.
If this is fate's idea of a romance, she seriously needs a better editor.

Nyla is an Omega who has been counting down the days to her eighteenth birthday, excited about finally being mated to her boyfriend, Zoran, and discovering her wolf. But just a day before the big day, Zoran breaks her heart, claiming he found someone better. Heartbroken, she cries herself to sleep but still manages to wake up and prepare for her birthday. However, things take an unexpected turn when she suddenly finds herself mated to the Alpha, who happens to be her best friend's dream man.

Rumored to be a bloodthirsty monster, the Dark Moon Alpha terrified my twin sister into fleeing their arranged marriage to elope with a rogue.

In my past life, my parents forced me to take her place.

Instead of dying, I ended up in the Alpha's castle, showered in the pack's unimaginable wealth.

Starving on the run, my jealous sister conspired with our parents.

They drained my wolf bloodline and burned me alive in a pure silver mine, just so she could steal my face and the Alpha's favor.

Opening my eyes, I found myself back on the night of her escape.

Instead of begging, I willingly grabbed the wedding dress.

"Elope in peace, sister. I'll marry the monster for you."

She thought she was handing me a death sentence.

But she had no idea... the obsessive love of a top-tier Alpha, and the supreme throne of the Luna...

This time, they will all be mine!

I thought I had a husband, an unborn child, and a best friend I could trust.

But my husband, Adrian, and my best friend, Celeste, had secretly built a family of their own. Her six-year-old son—the boy I had helped raise—was actually Adrian’s.

When I filed for divorce at seven months pregnant, Celeste revealed an even crueler truth: the baby I was carrying wasn’t Adrian’s.

My marriage, my pregnancy, and my trust had all been part of their twisted game.

Their betrayal cost me my mother and my unborn child.

Years later, Adrian begged me to take him back, while Celeste came to me with her children and pleaded for forgiveness.

But some betrayals only get one chance.

And they had already used theirs.

My husband, Victor Falcone, was a mafia godfather whose very name makes the entire underworld tremble.
A year ago, he barely survived an assassination attempt. The trauma gave him severe amnesia, completely wiping out the three months we spent keeping each other alive in the slums.
When he woke up, he was a different man—cold and ruthless. He treated my stepsister like his untouchable first love, spoiling her rotten.
And me, his legal wife? In his eyes, I was just a greedy, desperate woman who wouldn't take a hint.
"Drop the cheap pity act," he’d sneer. "You’re not worth a single hair on Lilia’s head."
Even so, I chose to stay by his side, desperate to spark his memory.
Until today. A rival cartel tied me and his precious "angel" to iron pillars on an abandoned pier.
Beneath our feet is a raging, pitch-black ocean. A thug has the ice-cold barrel of a gun pressed hard against my temple.
Which one of us will he choose?

I drove through a snowstorm to bring my son his asthma inhaler, only for my car to plunge down a slope.

Bleeding and trapped, I called my husband twenty-seven times. My own son rejected every call, then blocked me. They were taking family photos with my husband's former fiancée and did not want me—his real mother—interrupting them.

Four months pregnant, I walked into the OB-GYN clinic filled with joy—this was the child Archer and I had waited three years for.
But the moment the ultrasound report was handed to him, his gentle gray eyes twisted violently.
"Abort it. We absolutely cannot keep this child."
My stepfather watched coldly. The stepbrother who doted on me most slapped me hard across the face. My own mother wielded the scalpel and removed my uterus.
Half a month later, they picked me up from the hospital with roses, only to turn around and lock me away, feeding me psychiatric drugs until I died.
Reborn, I thought that as long as I hid the report, I could save my baby.
But they forced me onto the operating table once again.
It wasn't until I saw the report with my own eyes—
That I finally understood why my child had to die.

48-hour countdown to an arctic apocalypse. I asked my wife for $50,000 to buy a system shelter to save our lives, but she told her family I wanted the money to support a mistress. I scraped together $50,000 from various sources and was about to activate the shelter when my wife called, triumphantly telling me she'd already transferred all my assets and was hiding in a luxury villa with her lover.

She didn't know that when the extreme cold arrived, the villa's floor-to-ceiling windows would shatter instantly, and the fireplace wood would last no more than three days.

The only place that could truly sustain life was my shelter.

Now, she's kneeling outside the shelter door...

My fiancée accused me of not caring about family.
To make it up to her, I planned a luxury vacation for all of us.
But the night before we left, she told me she'd given my first-class seat to her childhood best friend.
Instead, she booked me a seat in economy—on a flight with a recent terror threat advisory.
The whole family thought I should just go along with it.
That's when I finally woke up.
I tore up the itinerary and rerouted to Hawaii instead.
I turned off my phone, leaving them to deal with the $20,000 bill.
It wasn't until their hotel reservations got canceled that they started to panic.

My heat hit me in the middle of my own engagement party to a man who kills Omegas.
The air in the ballroom was suffocating, filled with the scent of expensive wine and predatory Alphas. I felt the familiar, terrifying burn start low in my stomach. My suppressants were failing. I am an Omega pretending to be a Beta, and my fiancé, Reign Montgomery, is a powerful Enigma who believes Omegas are nothing but weak whores.
I rushed to the restroom, locking myself in, praying the scent wouldn't leak. My hands shook as I dialed for help, but the door handle turned. Reign stood there. He didn't look at my face; he grabbed my wrist, pulling it to his nose, inhaling deeply. His dark, soulless eyes bore into mine. "You smell different," he whispered, his voice dangerously low. If he finds out what I really am, I’m dead.


Reign Montgomery promised himself he’d never get involved with an omega. Not romantically, not physically, not even by accident. He doesn’t trust them, doesn’t want them, and refuses to let anyone become a weakness.
Soren Fox has lived his whole life making sure no one ever learns what he truly is. An omega pretending to be a Beta, fighting in underground rings just to survive and keep his sister alive.
But one contract drags them into a dangerous partnership of lies, heat, and power, and when Soren is kidnapped, Reign realizes too late that the omega he never wanted has become the one person he can’t live without.

On a rainy evening, Ophelia Taylor caught her husband Benjamin White cheating, shattering their marriage and her happy illusions completely. Plunged into despair, she found solace in Benjamin’s younger brother, William. Gentle and steady, William silently guarded her—bringing warm milk on sleepless nights, defending her from Benjamin’s coldness—slowly melting her broken heart. Unknowingly, both fell for each other, a forbidden affection blooming amid betrayal. Torn between her unfaithful husband and her off-limits brother-in-law, Ophelia stood at an emotional crossroads. Her reason screamed it was wrong, but her heart clung to William’s warmth. This tangled struggle of love and guilt had just begun.

“You don’t love me, do you?” Luke whispered, pinning my wrists above my head.

His body pressed mine into the bed, hot, heavy, inescapable. His mouth brushed my ear, gentle enough to feel like a kiss, cruel enough to feel like punishment.

“It’s okay,” he murmured.“Your body is mine.”

I left Luke Morrison unconscious in an ICU eight years ago and rebuilt myself in London—elite auctioneer, an ocean between me and the past.

Then my brother's condition crashed. I'm back in Pennsylvania, standing behind an auction podium at his company's charity gala.

A little boy runs through the crowd and wraps his arms around me: "Mama, you came back."

"Daddy shows me pictures every day," Asher says.

Every. Single. Day. How long has this been going on?

Luke's watching with ice-cold eyes. The bullied boy I left behind? Gone. Replaced by a tech billionaire who makes predators look soft.

"Get in," he says. Not a request.

Then he takes me back to his home.

His penthouse is frozen in time—the art I chose, the books I organized. Our past preserved like he's been waiting.

"You owe me eight years, Mia," he says, showing me the scar. "The girl who watched them destroy me and did nothing. This time, you don't run."

When he fucks me, it's worship and punishment. Making me pay for every day I was gone.

"I've waited eight years for this. Every breath you take belongs to me."

He's not just possessive. He's broken. And Asher is the perfect weapon to keep me trapped.

For Alejandro, a powerful CEO—rich, handsome, a shameless womanizer, and used to getting his way—it came as a shock that his new secretary refused to sleep with him when every other woman had fallen at his feet.

Maybe that was why none of them lasted more than two weeks. He got bored of them fast. But Valeria said no, and that only made him chase her harder, coming up with different strategies to get what he wanted—without giving up his fun with other women.

Without realizing it, Valeria became his right-hand woman, and he needed her for everything, like he couldn’t even breathe without her. Even so, he didn’t admit he loved her until she hit her limit and walked away.

"Do you remember me?"

I didn't.

But my husband did.

Everyone believed our marriage was a business arrangement.

Even I believed it.

Until I noticed the way Reginald watched me.

Like a starving man finally finding home.

Like he'd already loved me for years.

Every gentle touch...

Every protective embrace...

Every jealous glance...

None of it was fake.

Then one full moon, I saw his eyes become those of a wolf.

My husband wasn't human.

And neither was the family that had welcomed me so warmly.

They called me something I had never heard before.

His fated mate.

But if destiny truly brought us together...

Why does everyone keep saying I was never supposed to survive?

In a world of Elementals, Fire and Ice must never meet; touching is forbidden… and deadly.
Asher Lauigne grew up in a home where everyone called him a monster and lived his whole life in fear of his fire powers. He has never felt true love or happiness, and when his parents finally got tired of him and dropped him off at an academy for freak kids like him, he thinks his life is over without realizing his journey has only begun. Xavi Vael is ice-cold, composed, and untouchable… yet intoxicating. He is tasked by the principal to befriend and manipulate Asher, but then finds himself intrigued and attracted to Asher despite knowing it’s forbidden. When fate forces them together at the academy, every stolen glance, every brush of skin ignites a forbidden desire neither can resist.
But lust has a price. Power, betrayal, and a deadly virus threaten to tear them apart. To survive, they must break every rule, defy every law, and surrender to the fire and frost consuming them.
One touch. One kiss. One sin that could destroy them or awaken a power the world has never seen.
Touch him, melt him… and risk it all.

Betrayed, framed, and left for dead, Axel is thrust into a dangerous Magic Academy where survival means hiding his true nature. But nothing prepares him for Kai, the feared Alpha-Warlock who hates him yet is bound to him by fate.

In a world of lies, power, and forbidden bonds, their connection could save them or destroy everything.

Sara never asked for a mate, but fate didn’t care. The moment she steps into BloodRidge Pack, the bond locks her to the one man who wants nothing to do with her.
Alpha Xenon rejects her on sight. Cold. Final. Cruel.

But the bond doesn’t break.
His wolf won’t let her go.
And when danger comes for her, the Alpha who pushed her away becomes the one who can’t stay away.

Some rejections hurt.
This one changes everything.

The woman Evan Cole had never gotten over hit me with her car.

She called him, and he rushed to the hospital. When he saw me, he hesitated for a moment.

He stayed with her while I had my tests. Afterward, he asked, “How much did you have to pay?”

“A hundred and ten.”

A notification appeared on my phone a moment later.

Husband sent you $150.

I stared at the screen. We'd kept our marriage secret for three years, and even when I miscarried, he hadn't come to see me in the hospital. He'd hired someone to look after me and left a message.

I'm away on business for a week. Get some rest. Ask the aide if you need anything.

This was the first time he'd ever stayed with me for a medical appointment.

A nurse came over. “Your chart says you're married. Have your husband help you at home. With that leg, getting around is going to be difficult.”

I came back to myself and turned off my screen.

“That would be a little awkward. We're getting divorced.”

Before my flight to Chicago took off, I saved an old man from nearly passing out from the heat outside Miami Airport.
The moment he swallowed the water I handed him, he suddenly grabbed my wrist and clung to it with surprising strength.
"Listen to me. Whatever you do, do not get on that plane! There's going to be a Category 5 hurricane today!"
I froze for a second and looked up at the cloudless blue sky over Miami.
Assuming his Alzheimer's had flared up, I smiled and told him I'd already called an ambulance for him.
But his eyes suddenly widened, and all the color drained from his face.
"The storm is coming. Hundreds of planes will be ripped apart in seconds, torn into scraps of metal... Everyone will die..."
I thought he was raving and turned away, dragging my suitcase into the terminal.
Then, just before boarding, I went to the restroom with my suitcase.
When I came out, someone had tightly wrapped a discarded boarding pass around the handle of my silver carry-on.
On the back, in thick red marker, were the words:
[HURRICANE LANDFALL IN 30 MINUTES! DO NOT BOARD!]
A chill ran through me.
Boarding was about to close. If I missed this multimillion-dollar deal, I'd be out of a job tomorrow.
And at home, my four-year-old daughter was waiting for me to pay her expensive daycare bill.
Should I step onto that jet bridge or not?

Ten years into my assignment with the Unforgettable Love System, all my progress fell apart.

The original novel's heroine had been around for just three months.

The brooding boy I'd grown up with—the one I'd spent ten years winning over—put on a sunny, easygoing act for her and left me behind.

My fiancé's affection had only reached 80 percent after years of checking on him and taking care of him. One look at her, and he reset me to zero.

Even my own brother, who'd always treated me like the most precious person in his life, stopped being gentle and told me to grow up.

With my entire assignment about to go under, I decided on one last gamble.

There was a rule in novels: the woman nobody could forget always went abroad and stayed away for years.

Fine. Time to test the theory.

I packed that night and booked a flight out of the country.

BluePeak flew forty-seven employees to Miami for its company retreat.
I was the forty-eighth employee—and the only one not invited.
Then my team lead posted a photo of my empty seat with the caption:
Shame some people just aren’t team players.
So I turned off my phone and went to sleep.
Thirteen hours later, I woke to 164 missed calls and a text from my boss:
I screwed up. Please, for the love of God, call me.
Apparently, while I slept, the company discovered exactly how much of it depended on the employee they had left behind.

"I'm six weeks pregnant with Asher's baby," my husband's mistress texted me, attaching a photo of a torn condom wrapper on my husband’s desk.
"If he really loved you, what am I?"
I just called a secret number.
"Are you sure you want to activate the Ghost Protocol?" my brother asked over the encrypted line.
"Once done, your identity is erased. You will cease to exist."
"Do it," I replied coldly.
My billionaire husband thinks he can keep his perfect marriage and his wild mistress.
He has no idea that his gentle, low-profile wife is actually the most dangerous princess of the New York Mafia.
I gave him a 15-day countdown.
On the final day, he opened his "anniversary gift"—only to find his cheating evidence and a house completely emptied of my existence.
He tore the city apart looking for me, going insane.
But how do you find a woman who never legally existed?

I spent ten years following Ashton around like it was my job. He said jump, I jumped. He said he was hungry, I went and made him a sandwich. His homework, his fights, his messes — I handled all of it. I thought that's what being close to someone meant.
Then at the fall pep rally, in front of two thousand people, he strapped me to a platform, blasted me with paint, and let his girlfriend laugh at me through a megaphone.
I was the punchline. I threw up on camera. The video went viral before I even hit the ground.
So I did the one thing nobody expected — I vanished. New school, new city, new number. Every trace of him, gone.
I thought that was the end of it.
But Ashton doesn't let go of what he thinks is his. And what he's willing to do to drag me back? I wasn't even close to ready for that.

In a modern city of flights, glass hotels, and surveillance footage, Nora—an artist still recovering from surgery—watches her marriage rot behind polished excuses. As she traces her husband’s affair through airport selfies, joint-account charges, voice recordings, and a staged fall on the stairs, humiliation hardens into precision. Cold, sharp, and deeply satisfying, this is a divorce reckoning lit by rain, evidence files, airport confrontations, and the moment a woman stops begging to be chosen.

They cropped me out of the graduation photo, and nobody even noticed.
For eighteen years, I was the quiet, easy daughter. My sister Brooke got my clothes, my room, and the center of every picture. Ethan, the boy next door who once watched me nearly die from a peanut allergy, handed me a peanut butter smoothie and called it my favorite.
When Brooke found my full-ride acceptance letter, she called it fake, tore it in half, and threw it in a dumpster with my passport. My family laughed.
So I climbed in, dug it out, and got on a plane.
Three months later, the whole town learned I was a national scholar. So did my family.
Now they want me back.
Too late.

My coworker, Sloane, had a knack for turning brutal physical contact into her way of greeting.

She branded this as "American warmth" and an "outgoing personality."

At first, for the sake of office harmony, I assumed she was just clumsy and gritted my teeth to endure it.

That was until the incident in the breakroom. I had finally mustered the courage to discuss a design proposal with Liam, an engineer I had been secretly crushing on.

Out of nowhere, Sloane threw me into a chokehold masked as a bear hug, simultaneously driving her knee hard into the back of my legs.

Caught completely off guard, I lost my balance and lunged forward directly into Liam, practically ripping the buttons right off his dress shirt as I fell.

Instead of helping me up, Sloane gasped:

"Oh my god, Maeve! Look, I know you told me yesterday you dreamt of ripping Liam's shirt open, but you don't have to be so desperate in the office!"

Liam looked mortified.

Burning with humiliation, I scrambled to my feet, "Could you please keep your hands to yourself?!"

She jumped back, shouting even louder than I had. "Oh, come on! I was just trying to help you break the ice! Don't take it out on me just because you ruined it."

Heads turned across the entire bullpen. She doubled down, playing the victim with absolute righteous indignation:

"We are all adults here. If you can't even take a joke, who's ever going to want to work with you?"

The day I woke from the coma, the man I'd loved for seven years handed me to someone else.
I could have exposed him with one sentence. I didn't.
Dorian and I had been together since college. His best friend Silas had never once pretended to like me.
But that day, Dorian stood at my bedside, pointed at Silas, and said, "He's your boyfriend."
And nobody in that room thought there was anything wrong with that.
I believed him. At least, I made it look that way.
That night, I moved into Silas's villa — and then I heard the phone call.

During the senior executive meeting, an intern slapped a 15-yuan McDonald's receipt right in my face.
"Vice President Xu has been embezzling company funds for personal meals! A parasite like her, who’s been fleecing the company, must be fired!"
My boyfriend of eight years looked at me with a feigned, agonized expression. "This incident has caused an abysmally bad impact. You will be suspended pending an internal investigation."
I stared at his hand wrapped around the intern's waist, then calmly removed my employee ID badge.
I turned to my assistant and ordered, "Freeze the five million yuan in the company's account. That's just the pocket money I casually deposited there last week."

I spent five years loving Beckett Calloway.
When his ex-girlfriend died saving his life, I held him through every nightmare. When he said he "wasn't ready" for marriage, I waited. When he whispered "soon," I believed him.
Then her sister showed up. Crying about some terminal illness. Begging him to take care of her.
He let her move onto our private island—the one he promised would only ever belong to us.
He introduced her at the gala where he was supposed to announce our engagement.
He got her pregnant.
And when I told him she was lying about everything, he looked at me like I was the monster.
Then came our wedding rehearsal. She walked down the aisle in my dress. He slid his ring onto her finger. The chapel caught fire. I collapsed, bleeding.
He scooped her up and ran. Didn't even glance back.
So I burned my vows, deleted every trace of myself, and vanished.
This time, I wasn't coming back.

On a full moon, every wolf has to be inside a registered shelter before moonrise. That's pack law.
So when my husband's leave finally lined up with a moon, I spent six months and eighty thousand dollars booking his whole family into a top-tier sanctuary on Silverspine Ridge. Then his first love decided she wanted to come.
Instead of telling her no, he gave her my registered bed — and sent me a queue number for the state shelter, a thirty-six-hour line for a bunk in an open ward full of rogues. I looked at his parents, his sister, waiting for one of them to object. Every single one of them took his side.
So fine. I drove the other way, and spent the next three full moons enjoying myself — alone. That's when the whole family started to panic...

A hundred years ago, that curse was meant for him. I'm the one who threw myself in front of it.
It cost me my elven heart, shattered on the spot—and a name I could never wash off. Traitor.
I never argued. Because the moment I speak the truth, the curse goes straight back to him.
So I stayed. I became his blood servant and let him drain me, one bottle at a time, to feed the woman he'd waited a century for. I told myself that if I endured long enough, someday he'd see my heart for what it was.
Then the healer told me my heart had thirty days left.
And he walked in, knife in hand, to say his beloved needed more of my blood.
This time, I'm not enduring anything.
I'm going to give him back this heart—at the exact moment he's most sure he's won.

My boyfriend Tyler, his childhood sweetheart Chelsea, and I went on a road trip through the Australian Outback in the Northern Territory.

A few scrawny, yellow-coated dogs lingered by the roadside. Chelsea insisted on getting out to feed them.

I warned her they were dingoes, vicious predators that ruled this desert.

Her eyes welled up and she called me heartless. Tyler jumped in too, saying I grew up with a silver spoon in my mouth, that I didn't get what it was like for regular people, that I couldn't even spare a couple of hot dogs.

She forced the door open and ran out. The pack lunged at her. Her screams tore through the air. Tyler cowered in the car, shaking.

I was the only one who got out to help her.

Chelsea scrambled back into the car, but Tyler slammed the door shut and locked it.

I never forgot his face pressed against the window, terrified and selfish. I never forgot the despair of feeling fangs rip through my throat.

After I died, the two of them flew back to the States and posted a sobbing video, claiming I was the one who'd insisted on getting out to take pictures and set the dogs off.

The online hate came for my family, all of it, all at once. My parents, both with weak hearts, collapsed under the stress. Neither one made it.

My whole family, destroyed because I couldn't stop caring for one second.

When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day the trip started.

I am Sybella, future Luna of the Winsor Pack, and Alpha Gabriel’s fated mate.
He once placed a rose-gold pendant engraved with my name around my neck on Christmas Eve and promised, “You are my only one.”
Until the day he showed up with Linda and told me to “deal with her.”
Until the silver dagger pressed against my abdomen as he demanded her whereabouts.
Until I saw the identical necklace hanging from her neck—
Only then did I realize his tenderness was a forgery.
By day, he forced me to accept her child and get rid of mine.
By night, he murmured in his sleep, “I’m sorry, Linda.”
Silver chains locked away my wolf soul.
He made me kneel in the rain.
His private jet—walls filled with her photos.
So he didn’t hate cameras. He just never wanted to make an exception for me.
Now he says, “She’s carrying the future Alpha.”
And I—
I handed our alliance dowry to Hale.
When he breaks down at my wedding, screaming in despair,
He’ll see the Moon Goddess he trampled rise to take her throne.

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.

I used to think Jude was my one way out, my only salvation when my life fell straight into hell.
He pulled strings to get my mom into emergency surgery and helped me handle my dad’s funeral. He even promised he’d give me a home.
I believed him. So I married him. And for eight years, I let him take my blood every single month; he said it was for “routine health monitoring.”—Eight years, 9,999 milliliters.
Until that night, when I heard him with my own ears, talking to his friend:
“Lily’s blood type is rare. Lynn and her mom? They’re just ready-made blood banks.”
He didn’t marry me out of love. He married me to keep a “living blood bag” in hand.
I rested a hand on my still-flat belly and I laughed.
So this was what our marriage really was. From start to finish, it was a slaughter dressed up as love.
Fine. Then let’s see when it was time for the sacrifice, who ended up on the altar.

“Are you not… mad at me?” I asked breathlessly. “That I’m a girl?”

He gripped both sides of my arms. His eyes scanned my face as he cupped both sides of my face tightly between his hands. “I don’t care… I don’t care that you lied… I love you either way,” he panted and pressed his lips against mine.

My hockey stick landed against the ice with a loud clank as I began to kiss him back.

He didn’t hate me anymore.

William didn’t hate me anymore!!


Daphne Sinclair is an obsessed fan of a hockey player, William Hollander. When William suddenly announces that he would quit hockey after high school, Daphne gets a crazy idea.

She would attend William’s high school, dressed like a boy, and try to get into the school’s hockey team. This way she would be close to William and try to get him to keep playing.

Will Daphne’s plan work?

Will she get into the team, or will the school figure out that she is a woman and send her away before she even gets a chance to carry out her plan?

I share one body with Allen.

I’m the second self. He’s the original—kind, yielding. I handle everything that isn’t polite.

Together, we built a company from nothing—until an accident put me into a two-year sleep. Allen kept living alone in our body.

When I opened my eyes again, I was locked inside a car with sabotaged brakes, racing toward a cliff.

In those two years, a woman named Victoria slipped in, stole Allen’s trust and affection, and took control of our company.

Now she wants him dead—staging a drunk-driving “accident” so she can inherit everything as his fiancée.

I shattered the window and jumped, barely surviving. She was already preparing my funeral.

When I walked into the service, she tried the same old tears and moral pressure to pull me back into her script.

She didn’t know one thing: none of it works on me.

I used to think I had the perfect family.
My husband Nico started coming home less and less, always saying he had a meeting. But the truth was, he had another woman, Alessia. And it had been going on for a while.
The affair I could've handled. What really killed me was that my son Leo and my daughter Mia had known all along. They'd even started calling his mistress "Mom."
They thought I was clueless. But I'd known for months, his assistant had told me everything.
I tried so hard to win them back. I did more for them, cared more, tried harder. But they kept choosing Alessia.
That day, I stopped trying.
They could all have each other—Nico, Alessia, Leo, Mia.
I hoped they'd be happy together.

As the eldest daughter of North America’s most feared Mafia family, the Romanos, I married Matteo purely for love. For five years, everyone constantly envied me, thinking I was the luckiest woman alive.

Until I opened that video file.

The screen flickered to life, and my world violently collapsed.

The woman he had completely pinned against the wall, thrusting into her with feral desperation, was Valentina. His sweet, innocent adopted sister. The girl we had both carefully grown up with.

And the hands gripping her waist so tightly they bruised? They bore the exact wedding band I had lovingly slipped onto Matteo’s finger.

"Oh God, brother… you're so hard. If your perfect wife knew you were deep inside me right now, she’d lose her mind."

"Good girl, then stop talking about that boring piece of wood."

My refined, elegant husband was groaning, his voice filthy and depraved between loud, wet slaps of skin. "Squeeze tighter, fuck... You drive me insane, baby. The moment I successfully drain all her family’s stock, you’ll be the true mistress of this whole estate."

Every sweet nothing he had ever whispered to me was a calculated lie, designed to completely destroy me.

Those two despicable cheaters believe they have successfully won. They think my marriage was built on submission.

Well, since this rising Mafia star completely forgot that I am a Romano first and a wife second, it’s severely past time I gave him a taste of my own wicked performance.

Playtime is over. Matteo thinks he can steal my empire while burying his face in his sister’s bed?

I am going to carefully tear down his "perfect husband" facade piece by bleeding piece, and aggressively send them both straight to hell.

Warning: This book contains a large number of very hot adult scenes!
“Look at the state of you, my little she-wolf,” his voice was low and full of menace, like sandpaper scraping across my nerves. “You got this wet just from that?”
Then he pressed a hard kiss to my knuckles.
Fuck!
His rough tongue slid across my slender finger bones, tasting the salty sweat and fear on my skin.
A violent tremor shot through my whole body.
A moan I couldn’t suppress slipped from between my lips. “Ah… Sebastian…”
I felt my thighs rubbing together on their own, that damn traitorous movement making my pussy clench so tight I nearly came.
Yes, that’s it, you desperate little bitch.
I cursed myself in my mind.
He flipped my hand over, his thumb pressing hard—almost punishingly—into the sensitive skin on the inside of my wrist.
My pulse pounded there beneath his palm like it was going mad.
“This is beating so hard,” he whispered, his breath hot against my skin, “is it beating for me, Seraphina? Tell me.”
Then he took one of my fingers into his damn hot, wet mouth.
Oh God…
His rough tongue swirled, rubbed, scraped along the skin of my finger, warm saliva soaking every inch.
And his eyes never left me—fixing on me like a beast locking onto prey.
He sucked softly at first, then suddenly with force.
That rhythm…
Fuck, he was fucking my finger with his mouth.
“Are you using this to fuck my mouth, Seraphina?”
He let my finger go with a filthy pop, seeing straight through my thoughts.
“Imagine this is my cock. Does it feel good, you filthy little she-wolf?”
My back arched uncontrollably, like the lowest kind of whore silently inviting him.
A broken, shameful whimper escaped my throat.
“Good… so good…”
My scent thickened, wild floral heat and lust filling the air, swallowing the last of my reason.
I could feel the terrifying restraint in his body cracking apart.
He wanted to hear me moan his name as I came.
He wanted to bury himself inside my soaked, empty heat until I could feel nothing except his violent thrusts.
He moved to my middle finger, giving it the same obscene, thorough attention.
His tongue circled wickedly at the base, then pushed deep, sucking hard as if tasting the sweetest honey.
Fuck!
My hips jerked upward without control.
My other hand dug into the carpet, knuckles white, vision dissolving in the storm of desire swallowing me whole.
“I need you… to fill my pussy, Sebastian…”
——
I grew up as a human in a wolf pack, but ironically, I ended up becoming the mate of the pack’s Alpha. I thought I would fit perfectly into the wolves’ world—until the day I caught my Alpha mate tangled with another she-wolf in the back seat of a car.
With trembling hands, I tricked him into signing the divorce papers—silently swearing revenge. But they didn’t stop. His mother sent thugs to destroy me. His mistress tried to erase me. Even my coworkers wanted to use me.
That night, I nearly lost my life.
Until Alpha Sebastian found me—cold, ruthless, unmatched. He said he didn’t need a mate.
But he protected me like a mate. Touched me like a mate. Looked at me like a mate, as if I already belonged to him.
I tried to resist his approach. I didn’t want to make the same mistake twice. Wolves would never accept a human mate.
But whenever he came near me, whenever those scorching hands reached for me, I always hungered for him—wanted more—yet I was done with promises.
Until I discovered that my past was not simple at all—and Sebastian had his own reasons for approaching me—

Everyone said I was born a jinx.
On the day I was born, my family teetered on the brink of bankruptcy, and my father passed away.
That was why Mother and Bruce had hated me from the very start.
They loved only Anna.
On my eighteenth birthday, Anna drugged me, leaving me on the verge of being assaulted.
It was then that Nolan Black appeared — the business tycoon, my savior.
He publicly declared that I was his person, warning that anyone who dared to lay a hand on me would pay the price.
From then on, whenever Anna bullied me, he forced her to apologize.
Whenever Mother humiliated me, he silenced her.
Whenever Bruce mocked me, he ruined all his businesses.
I had never been treated so well before, and I fell completely for him.
Three months later, I walked down the aisle in a white wedding dress.
Nolan spoiled me rotten, making me the envy of the entire world.
Everything changed when I was nearing my due date.
On the way to a family dinner, my car brakes failed, and I crashed. I was moments away from losing my life when Frank intercepted my car in the nick of time, risking his own life to save mine.
Everyone in social circles envied me — I had a husband willing to burn himself to ashes for me.
But shortly before I gave birth, I tried to surprise them and accidentally overheard their conversation.
“Anne is the only compatible organ donor for Anna,” Bruce’s voice echoed in the ward. “Anna’s condition is getting worse. We can’t wait any longer!”
“Do you think I don’t know that?” Frank lowered his voice tightly.
“But she’s about to give birth! Pregnant women cannot donate organs!”
“That’s exactly why we staged that car crash!”

The rules were supposed to keep me safe:

Rule #1: Fix my shattered swimming career.
Rule #2: Hide the crippling panic attacks drowning my future.
Rule #3: Never, ever fall for my new coach.

Too bad Liam James is also my best friend’s brother.

After a tragic accident stole my parents, the pool went from my sanctuary to my worst nightmare. Enter Liam: arrogant, devastatingly intense, and brutally demanding. He thinks I’m a lazy, washed-up athlete wasting his time. I think he’s a heartless tyrant.

But every explosive confrontation at the pool edge only fuels a suffocating, forbidden chemistry we can't ignore.

He’s completely off-limits. Breaking the rules means risking my career, his future, and my best friend’s trust. But when the world spins out of control, his arms are the only place I can finally breathe.

Can we survive the forbidden heat, or will our secrets drag us under?

She buried her parents, shedding tears of blood as the only family she had left was gone. She was left alone in a brutal world but that wasn’t the scary fact. She was a cursed individual who has to live forever without dying.

The curse of immortality will force her to live and watch her beloved ones dying, while she remains powerless to stop it.

A woman who has a cold heart and is not moved by anything, will her heart be moved by the disciple she took in?

Will she be able to finally open her heart to someone and love like any other person?

I thought I could keep my marriage secret a little longer.
Then my son got sick.
My wife brought him to Mercer Group, was handed a fake suspension notice, and heard my assistant call our child a bastard.
Ten minutes later, she placed our feverish son on my mother's desk.
"Meet your grandson."

For seven years of marriage, I don't dare make a sound around my husband.
All because he can hear everyone's voices—everyone's except mine. He says he's allergic to mine.
I've tried everything to change my voice—even had vocal cord surgery.
But no matter how hard I tried—every time he'd just cover his ears like I was hurting him.
I've cried myself to sleep so many times, feeling guilty.
Until our son's birthday.
Standing by our front door, our little boy grinned up at his dad and asked, "Dad, can I pretend to be allergic to mom's voice too? Just like you?"

“Spread those legs wider…Fina. I need to see every fucking inch of you.”
His voice was calm. Cold. Commanding.
And just like I always did, my body obeyed before my mind could.
Dario Severo was my father’s best friend.
Then he became his enemy.
Now he’s my husband.
Feared across the underworld and twice my age, Dario married me as the price of peace between cartels. I was supposed to be a contract. A body bound by a ring. Nothing more.
But behind closed doors, his control is intimate, deliberate, and addictive. He touches me like he’s waited years to claim what was always forbidden—and I hate how much I want it.
I was offered to him to end a war.
Instead, I became his obsession.


This book is pure age-gap erotica! Dive into your best erotic experience as Don Rio wrecks every inch of his wife; Ikkohafina, in the most dirtiest, most electrifying way!