3721 Book(s) Related to off limit not my stepbrother

In the early morning hotel room, Jocelyn awakens from the bed after passion, with scattered clothing on the floor bearing witness to last night's madness. The man behind her asks in a low voice: "One more time?" She coldly refuses: "No, I need to go find my husband." This seemingly absurd one-night stand is actually her carefully orchestrated revenge—hiring a male escort to get back at her cheating husband, yet mistaking the immensely powerful Herman Thorne for a bar worker.

Jocelyn Richter was originally a wealthy heiress whose marriage to childhood sweetheart Ashton Rowland seemed perfect but was built on lies. When her parents died in a suspicious car crash, she discovered her husband's affair with pregnant college student Lillian, shattering the illusion of a perfect marriage. Transforming from naive wife to strategic mastermind, she learned to weaponize her beauty, manipulate public opinion, and navigate corporate politics, evolving step by step from victim to controller.

Ashton Rowland is a hypocrite beneath his perfect husband facade. After conveniently developing amnesia, he oscillates between devoted lover and shrewd businessman, embodying the dangerous charm of mistaking possession for love, using emotional manipulation and corporate threats to maintain control over his wife.

Herman Thorne is the head of the nation's top-tier family, yet finds himself deeply attracted to a woman who dares to see him as an equal. Unlike Ashton's conditional love, he expresses care through actions—making breakfast, tending wounds, clearing misunderstandings, hiding a complex heart unaccustomed to vulnerability beneath his powerful exterior.

Jocelyn fights for substantial divorce compensation, investigates the truth behind her parents' death, and navigates dangerous feelings for Herman. She moves with ease through corporate boardroom battles, creates media storms by live-streaming her husband's infidelity exposure, while discovering the connection between her parents' car crash and the Rowland family's dark secrets. In this multi-layered game of business warfare, romantic entanglements, and truth-seeking, she gradually unveils the hypocritical facade of this elite world.

In the final café confrontation, Ashton signs the divorce agreement after receiving a mysterious phone call from his father. Just as he desperately grips Jocelyn's wrist with bloodshot eyes, pleading for another chance to pursue her, a familiar voice rings out: "Let her go." Herman appears at the crucial moment, but the real suspense lies in—what explosive secret was hidden in that phone call? How will the truth about her parents' death reshape everything? As her revenge plan concludes, Jocelyn stands at life's crossroads, facing not only freedom but also increasingly passionate feelings for this man once mistaken as "hired help," and these feelings may be the most dangerous truth of all.

Eliara has always lived at the bottom of the Black Crest Pack.

After her stepfather’s death, pack law forced her under the same roof as her two alpha stepbrothers.

The future rulers of the Black Crest Pack and billionaire CEOs of the most powerful tech corporation in the region.

They hate her.

They strip her of status, turn her into a servant, and remind her daily that she is nothing more than an omega with no protection.

When her mother’s mate's bond weakens and illness strikes, Eliara loses the last protection she had.

Whatever little status she once held vanishes overnight.

What no one knows is that Eliara carries a forbidden secret.

A rare healing power her mother warned would get her killed if discovered.

The alphas are hiding secrets too.

Cursed by the Moon Goddess, they weaken and collapse every full moon, their wolves silent and their throne at risk.

When a violent confrontation leaves the alphas dying before their pack, Eliara makes a choice that changes everything.

She heals them.

The bond snaps.

And Eliara learns the truth too late.

Her cruel stepbrothers are her destined mates.

Before she can escape the consequences of that bond, Alpha Eric Lewis enters the picture.

Alpha Eric Lewis, the Alpha General, billionaire, and their greatest enemy steps in with an offer they can’t refuse.

To save their throne and erase their debts, the twins are forced to give up the one thing they never wanted but can no longer live without.

Eliara is offered as a bride.

Rejected by her mates.

Married to their enemy.

Bound to a man who wants her power and her heart.

Now the alphas must chase the omega they broke.

Because losing Eliara won’t just destroy them.

It will bring their pack to its knees.

"Please don't stop," she moaned, tugging at her restraints. The two cold metal rings dug into the soft skin around her wrists.
"Careful little flower, you don't want to sleep with an aching pussy do you??"
●●●
Lilliana Barnette is your typical timid teenage girl who finds herself falling more and more in love with the handsome Damon Michaelson....her father's bestfriend, a man much older than her and one she's to refer to as her uncle.
Damon Arnold Michaelson, a multi-billionare business tycoon, bachelor in his prime known for his irresistible charm amongst the ladies. He finds himself falling for his neice Lilliana, but.....being his bestfriend's daughter meant she was forbidden to him but his desire for her only grew with each passing day....even when he was being intimate with other women, she took over all of his thoughts without even trying. He knew he had to keep his distance from her but instead, found himself wanting to touch her every chance he got....his mind wanted to own his bestfriend's daughter in ways no one had ever done not even her boyfriend, and all the while she innocently kept thinking he's not affected by her or her body unaware of his filthy need to claim her as his for everyone to see.
Everything changes when his said bestfriend has to leave the city for a business trip, entrusting him with the responsibility of taking care of his only daughter.
Now leaving under the same roof the two find themselves in a love/lust infested dilemma, with each passing day it got even harder for them to conceal their feelings for each other....though they tried at first and eventually their forbidden desire wins....they start meeting up secretly as often as possible, away from prying eyes....most importantly away from Lilliana's father's eyes.

Six years ago, my world shattered when my boyfriend of three years, Elias, brutally discarded me for a strategic marriage, declaring that love doesn't build empires.
Now, I'm a fierce crisis manager, hired to rehab the public image of Jaxon Laurent—the NHL's most notorious bad boy and a walking PR nightmare. He's arrogant, reckless, and infuriatingly gorgeous.
But when a family tragedy leaves me fighting for custody of my traumatized eight-year-old niece, our professional boundaries blur. Jaxon needs a squeaky-clean image to save his career; I need a husband to save a little girl.
Our deal is simple: a fake marriage with strict rules. No real feelings, just a solid front for the cameras.
Until my toxic ex returns, as the opposing custody lawyer.
Before Elias can utter an arrogant word, Jaxon walks down the stairs shirtless, sliding a possessive hand around my waist. Staring his own brother down with a cold smirk, he murmurs, "You're staring at my wife too long, brother."
Suddenly, I realize two things: The arrogant ex who swore I'd never find anyone better is about to eat his words... and my fake husband wasn't saving his career. He's been waiting for me for six long years.
We swore this was just a game. So what happens when the biggest crisis I have to manage... is falling for the man who was never faking it?

She lost her child, her womb, and the man she thought was her forever.

After years of miscarriages, Elara finally agrees to let her best friend carry her baby, only to discover that her husband has been sleeping with the surrogate and plotting her death. The final betrayal shatters her, until she uncovers one thing that changes everything: he only married her for her wealth, and now plans to steal it all.

But Elara isn’t as helpless as he thinks. Beneath her gentle exterior lies the secret identity of a powerful heiress, and when her husband’s disgraced father returns from prison seeking revenge of his own, their fates collide.

Two broken souls. One shared enemy.
And a burning desire for vengeance that might just turn into something far more dangerous.

Vivian sat in the corner of the restaurant, staring at the breakup text Theodore had sent to her phone. Eight years of romance had just been ended by a single message.

However, fate's turns are often unexpected. That same night, after being drugged at a bar, Vivian encountered Maxwell Stevens, the richest man in C City. After a passionate night, this master of a business empire actually proposed signing a "fake couple" agreement—he would help Vivian fight against her stepfather who coveted her company, while she would help him navigate various social occasions.

Vivian Ashford, heir to the Ideal Future Group, possessed both beauty and wisdom in equal measure. Faced with her ex-boyfriend Theodore's betrayal and resource plundering, she displayed an iron will—not only did she publicly beat up this scumbag who wanted to exploit her, but she was determined to reclaim the business empire her mother had left behind from her stepfather's grasp. Maxwell's appearance gave her a powerful ally in the corporate battlefield.

Maxwell appeared to be a cold and shrewd business elite, but in reality harbored deep feelings for Vivian. When assassins pursued him, Vivian actually risked her life to venture into the slums for a rescue mission. In an abandoned house, the injured Maxwell held her tightly, and their mutual dependence in crisis quietly warmed their growing feelings.

As they spent more time together, Vivian began to suspect this mysterious man's true identity. The scars on Maxwell's arms and the fine marks on his forehead were strikingly similar to her school friend Liam—that silent boy who had once been injured protecting her. When Maxwell, under anesthesia at the hospital, said "from the day she saved me... I've loved her for so many years," Vivian was shocked to realize that this king of a business empire might be the person who had silently protected her all those years ago.

But even more unexpected was what Vivian discovered while eavesdropping on a conversation outside the hospital room—Maxwell was hiding even deeper secrets behind the scenes. He had mysterious connections to the downfall of a certain family, and that assassination attempt was no coincidence...

When love, revenge, and the struggle for business empire intertwine, can Vivian protect everything she cherishes in this dangerous game? How will Maxwell's true identity, hidden for years, and those unknown secrets rewrite both their destinies? On the edge between fake and real, can this contract couple find the path to true love?

Ivy Hart thought surviving Northbridge University on a full scholarship would finally give her life a clean slate, until she opens the hockey club door on her first day and comes face-to-face with Asher Hayes, the golden boy captain who made her high school years unbearable; now he’s everywhere she turns, and when her biggest secret slips into his hands after a single reckless moment, he doesn’t expose her—he traps her in a fake relationship that starts as leverage but quickly turns into something far more dangerous than either of them planned, because in a game built on lies, control, and buried history, Ivy is beginning to realize the real threat isn’t losing her scholarship… it’s losing her heart to the boy who once broke it.

“I found myself craving the one man who was never mine,” Caterina scoffed, her breath brushing his skin. His stoic expression faltered.

“They call it sin… but if this is hell, I’ll gladly burn for you.”

After her marriage fell apart, Caterina returned—divorced, ashamed, and drawn to the man she should never want. Her stepfather.

He was everything meant to repel her. Cold. Ruthless. Untouchable.

Yet in his silence, she found protection. In his eyes, she saw the man no one else dared to see.

They called it a sin.

But nothing had ever felt more right.

This isn’t just a story of forbidden love. It’s about survival, betrayal, and a passion that defied fate itself.

Will Caterina and Dante fight for what they share—or lose everything to it?

At the engagement banquet, I was publicly jilted, publicly humiliated by the vampire viscount, and regarded as a worthless nobody. Everyone thought I was at their mercy.
Little did they know that beneath my cheap suit lay the holy mark of the chief arbiter who had defected from the Vatican .
The moment the holy light appeared, the darkness trembled.

Freya Ashford's biggest regret in life wasn't marrying me, but that she never truly looked at me. We were sleeping in the same bed but dreaming different dreams; she was researching immortality, and I was researching how to win her love—"It is an eternal power, and an eternal pain." This riddle led us down different paths. On the day of the prom, in front of the entire school, she pointed her finger at me and said, "You can't prove your love for me at all." But she didn't know that she would lose miserably.

For six years I kept the books nobody wanted to touch.
They called me the help. My husband signed my name to a loan I never saw. His mother told the whole family I was the reason there were no grandchildren.
At the anniversary gala, they planned to retire me quietly — and hand my desk to the woman my husband had been paying out of company accounts.
They forgot one thing.
Before I married into this family, I spent six years catching men who move money the way they do. I never stopped keeping a second set of books.
I let them think the game was already over.
It was — for them.

I warned my family and neighbors that the extreme cold would come in a year and a half, but they all thought I was crazy.
I had no choice but to prepare myself a year and a half in advance: renovating houses, building arks, stockpiling supplies...
When the extreme cold arrived, the neighbors who ignored the warnings turned into thugs, yet my brother still wanted to let them into the house; the bandits pretending to be wounded were exposed by me, but my brother still didn't believe me and let them in; I finally managed to defeat the spy bandits, but when I wasn't paying attention, my brother, in order to save his own life, personally handed the Ark to the bandit leader...

After rebirth, I switched wedding engagements with my sister Maya.

In my past life, she was forced to marry the West's most ruthless Alpha—Zane Blackwood. Three years. He never touched her. His "sister" Sienna stole the Luna's position, power, dignity. Maya became a joke. No mark, no status. She froze to death on a snowy night, not even left with a complete body.

And me? Married to someone I didn't love, drifting through life in a daze. When I woke up, Maya was dead.

Then I died trying to avenge her.

After rebirth, I kicked down the door and snatched the engagement: "This time, I'm going."

Rode my bike sixteen hours straight. Got ambushed on the road—cracked skulls with a wrench. Covered in engine oil and blood, I crashed into the Black Moon engagement party.

Sienna screamed: "Psycho!"

Damn right.

I grabbed that stone-faced Alpha, ignoring his death glare, and bit into his neck in front of everyone.

"Listen up," I licked the blood from my lips, "I'm your Luna now. And if that bitch messes with me—"

I leaned close to his ear:

"You're dead first."

My husband Dante's best friend Luigi died three months ago, and with his last breath, he made Dante promise to take care of his pregnant widow, Maggie. From that moment, Maggie invaded our lives, and I was only four months pregnant at the time.

Then Maggie got caught in a gang shootout. She needed an emergency blood transfusion, and she had this rare blood type—Rhnull. Turns out, I'm Rhnull too.

To save Maggie and her baby, Dante forced me to abort mine.

On my eighteenth birthday, I didn't get a cake. I got a slap from my mother and my MIT acceptance letter crushed under her heel.

In their eyes, I wasn't a daughter—I was a walking blood bank, a spare part for my cousin Jennifer.

They took my blood, made me take the blame, even sent me to prison in her place.

In that car accident, my mother saved my cousin without hesitation and left me to bleed out in the wreckage.

"Save Jennifer first! That wretch is too stubborn to die!"

That's when I gave up on them.

But what truly broke me wasn't being sent to a mental hospital—it was the diary I found hidden in my mother's safe.

At minus sixty degrees Celsius, my girlfriend of three years and my childhood friend teamed up to push me out of the bomb shelter and beat me to death in the snowstorm.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back fifteen days before the extreme cold arrived, and my phone had a new "Doomsday Farm" app.

Rapidly growing mutant crops and an infinitely large, temperature-controlled warehouse became my biggest trump card for rebirth.

Faced with two people who came with luggage under the pretense of "accompanying me" but actually plotted to seize the property rights of my underground research institute, I calmly turned them away, sold all my properties in the city, and headed straight for the suburbs with a huge sum of money.

Within fifteen days, I welded the abandoned research institute into a heavily insulated steel fortress.

When the epic cold wave arrived ahead of schedule, those who had betrayed me were trapped in an old apartment without water or gas, tearing each other apart over a tattered quilt.

I'm sitting in a 20-degree underground farm, eating hot stewed beef, drinking hand-drip coffee, and quietly watching them on the monitor slowly turn into ice sculptures.

In this life, having let go of my desire to help others, I simply want to live comfortably in this Ice Age.

That December night, his first love and I were both rushed to the ER.
Two pregnant women. One operating room.
My doctor husband took three seconds to decide.
"She's an athlete. She can handle it," he told the nurse, then wheeled Sienna into surgery.
Leaving me—eight months pregnant with his baby—bleeding alone in the hallway.
When the nurse called begging him to come back, he said: "I'm at the pharmacy getting supplies for Sienna. Twenty minutes."
Twenty minutes later, I'm still alive.
He wishes I wasn't.

I was at my favorite artist's concert, phone up, recording the Kiss Cam segment. My boyfriend Mason said he was three hours away having dinner at his parents' house and couldn't make it, even sent me a selfie as proof.

Then the Kiss Cam found him.

On the giant screen, Mason wore the exact same gray vintage rock tee and black ripped jeans from his "family dinner photo," his arm around a blonde girl with her head on his shoulder.

The arena erupted: "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"

He looked like he'd seen a ghost, frantically trying to block the camera.

My phone's location alert read: "Mason is nearby (0.1 miles)."

Three years of us, exposed as a massive lie in front of thousands of cheering strangers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But each time, I lost the baby.

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

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

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

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

It happened again anyway.

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

That's when I found out the truth.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Turns out the boss knows sign language.

Thank God! Perfect!

Then he gets everything completely wrong.

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

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

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

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

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

Me: ...

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

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

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

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

I flew downstairs and pounded on the door.

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

A pregnant woman appeared behind him.

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

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

My world shattered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I said, "Fine."

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

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

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

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

He was too busy celebrating his mistress's birthday.

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

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

I'd had enough.

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

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

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

I watched him crumble.

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

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

It was always mine.

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

Soft hot lips find the shell of my ear and he whispers, "You think I don't want you?" He pushes his hips forward, grinding into the back of my ass and I groan. "Really?" He chuckles.

"Let me go," I whimper, my body trembling with need. "I don't want you touching me."

I fall forward onto the bed then turn around to stare at him. The dark tattoos of Domonic's chiseled shoulders, quiver and and expand with the heave of his chest. His deep dimpled smile is full of arrogance as he reaches behind himself to lock the door.

Biting his lip, he stalks toward me, his hand going to the seam of his pants and the thickening bulge there.

"Are you sure you don't want me to touch you?" He whispers, untying the knot and slipping a hand inside. "Because I swear to God, that is all I have been wanting to do. Every single day from the moment you stepped in our bar and I smelled your perfect flavor from across the room."


New to the world of shifters, Draven is human on the run. A beautiful girl who no one could protect. Domonic is the cold Alpha of the Red Wolf Pack. A brotherhood of twelve wolves that live by twelve rules. Rules which they vowed could NEVER be broken.

Especially - Rule Number One - No Mates

When Draven meets Domonic, he knows that she is his mate, but Draven has no idea what a mate is, only that she has fallen in love with a shifter. An Alpha that will break her heart to make her leave. Promising herself, she will never forgive him, she disappears.

But she doesn’t know about the child she’s carrying or that the moment she left, Domonic decided rules were made to be broken - and now will he ever find her again? Will she forgive him?

In her previous life, after her parents died in a car accident, her eldest brother took in the daughter of the driver who caused the crash just to save face. To keep up the pretense of fairness, her brothers drained Lily Roberts of all her resources, trampled on her dignity, and poured everything into supporting the driver’s daughter. Lily gave her all to her brothers, only to be kicked out of the house and die a miserable death.
Reborn, Lily Roberts cast aside all her tendencies to help others. No forgiveness, no reconciliation—let them cling together; she’d thrive alone.
Her brothers all thought she was just throwing a tantrum and would slink back within three days.
But three days turned into another three, and then another. Her brothers couldn’t sit still anymore.
Eldest brother: “Why has my health been so poor lately? Because Lily stopped sending me tonics.”
Second brother: “Why does the company’s firewall keep failing? Because Lily isn’t here to maintain it anymore.”
Third brother: “Why is the drug research and development progressing so slowly? Because Lily no longer volunteers as a test subject for the drugs.”
Fourth brother: “Why are these scripts so terrible? Because Lily stopped writing them.”
Fifth brother: “Why is this prosthetic limb so useless? Because Lily isn’t the one who custom-made it anymore.”
Sixth brother: “Why does the eSports team keep losing? Because Lily quit.”
Her brothers knelt on the ground, begging for forgiveness. “Lils, come back! We’re family—blood is thicker than water!”
Lily Roberts slammed the severance of kinship agreement in front of them, scoffing coldly. “Cars hit the wall and you finally know to swerve? Stocks soar and you rush to buy? Get sentenced for your mistakes and you suddenly regret it? Sorry, I don’t forgive.”

BLURB

Elaine moves to Herbert Wilbur - a strange name for a boarding school, and an even stranger place to study.

she meets Allan, a boy attached to piano keys and eerie hymns, seems to carry mysteries that no song can hide.

Meanwhile, creatures roam the halls. They share the same bodies as human students, cause havoc in secret, and eventually push the soul out to claim full control.

They are placed in a situation where they have to spend nine nights together, during this nine nights, they begin to rely on each other, share burdens and maybe fall in love.

Herbert Wilbur isn't just a school.
It's a cage of secrets waiting to be unlocked.

In my last life, when the apocalypse hit, I forced more than fifty young tenants in the Silver Bay Apartments into a single fighting unit: sealed doors, rationing, rotating watches, quarantine—I bought us thirty days of safety with iron rules.
But when rescue was finally near, they dumped all their hunger and fear on me. My ex, Claire, and the gym rat Mason stirred up the crowd, beat me until I couldn’t stand, and locked me outside the door to the rooftop—leaving the horde to close in.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day before everything began.
This time, I won’t step up. I won’t save anyone. I’ll hide what I need to survive—and watch them destroy the building themselves.

I used to be the Blackwells' best killer. For him, I walked away from that life and became his wife. I even gave him a daughter.

I thought it was redemption. Turns out, it was the start of something worse.

Three years ago, during that shootout at the docks, his first love showed up with his bastard son. When the rival family put guns to both kids' heads, he didn't hesitate. He chose to save her son.

My daughter burned in the explosion.

That was the day the man I loved for ten years died. What's left is just my sworn enemy.

In their eyes, my wife Emma—an Ivy League tenured professor in biological sciences—is ruthless, rational, and obsessively clean.
For seven years, even when she washed her hands, she would only ever touch the right-side sink—hers.
Until that night at 3 a.m., when I pulled a strand of sandy-golden short curl—hair that belonged to neither of us—out of my men’s shower loofah.
And around the neck of a pre-med student named Lucas, I saw the antique silver cross my dying father left in my hands.
When I confronted her, my always-icy wife protected the little homewrecker, slapped me across the face, and called me a jealous, controlling chauvinist.
She thought I’d swallow it like a coward.
But she forgot: as a top cardiothoracic chief, the thing I do best is cutting out tumors.

"Scholarship trash belongs in the trash." Zara Cole never forgot those words. She just waited until she had a microphone to say them back.

Sixteen-year-old Zara Cole won a full scholarship to Cresthaven Academy, the most expensive school in the country. On her very first day, the most popular boy in school, Luca Harlow, dumps a tray of food on her in front of everyone and calls her a charity case. The video goes viral. Zara becomes a joke overnight.

But Zara has a secret. She is not just a poor girl chasing a dream. She is the anonymous online tutor known as "GoldPen" who has helped half the school pass their exams, including Luca himself.

When the school announces its biggest prize ever, the Crown Contest, where students compete in academics, arts, and leadership for a life-changing scholarship fund, Zara signs up. So does Luca. The contest forces them to work together. And the closer they get, the harder it is to keep hating each other.

But Luca's family has secrets too. Dark ones. Ones that are connected to why Zara's mother lost everything years ago.

She survived the stake. She escaped the swamp. But can she survive him?

Elora clawed her way out of the Lower City's gutters only to be thrown into Arcanum—a gilded cage where nobles hunt commoners for sport and ancient powers play deadly games. Branded a heretic, she's nothing but a research specimen to the cold elven Grand Magister who saved her life... and a fascinating new toy to the thousand-year-old vampire prince who watches her burn from the shadows.

But when dragonfire erupts from her veins and threatens to consume her from within, Elora must make an impossible choice: submit to the monsters who want to control her, or become a monster herself.

Amara is an Omega sold at an exclusive auction to Kael, the fearsome and reclusive Alpha. Rumors surround Kael—some say he’s cursed, others claim he’s a beast driven mad by anyone who he can't control.

Purchased to bear his heir, Amara expects to be treated like property. Instead, she finds herself in a crumbling castle, treated with unexpected dignity but forbidden from leaving the grounds.

Kael keeps his distance, cold and aloof, as if her presence is both an irritation and a temptation. Determined to uncover the truth, Amara discovers strange happenings in the castle—ghostly whispers, silent servants and a wing of the estate that Kael strictly forbids her to enter.

The more she investigates, the more she realizes: Kael is hiding a secret that could change everything.

🔞 READER ADVISORY 🔞

THIS BOOK CONTAINS EXPLICIT CONTENT AND IS INTENDED FOR ADULTS 18 AND OVER.

What happens when desire whispers your name in the silence of the night? Do you answer?

In this scorching anthology, each story is an intimate game where the stakes are high and the reward is climax. Secrets are revealed not with words, but with lips, hands, and the universal language of pleasure. Through casual encounters that become unforgettable and forbidden affairs that defy all reason, the characters discover the transformative power of a simple caress in the right place, at the right time.

Let yourself be swept away by these stories. Your next whisper of pleasure is waiting on the next page.

“I reject you! I will never accept you as my Luna!”
The force of his rejection struck me like a physical blow, shattering my soul. Just hours ago, these same lips had whispered sweet promises against my skin. These same hands had touched me with reverence. Now, Alpha Finn Foster looked at me as if I were something rotten—something despised. Something he hated with every fiber of his being.
“Alaric Blackstone’s daughter,”he spat the words like venom.

“You deceived me.”

My mate—the man the Moon Goddess had destined for me, the man who had held me in his arms just a night before—now glared at me as if I were a curse upon his existence. All because I was the daughter of his enemy.Rejected for my bloodline, I was forced to confront a harsh truth: the man who once held me tenderly now looked at me with hatred—even though I carried his child. Marked as the shameful Omega daughter of an Alpha, I had thought the mate bond would be my salvation. Instead, it became my curse.
Forced into an arranged marriage by my father as a mere bargaining chip, I made the only choice that could save me: to escape the torment and leave behind those who betrayed me. Years later, when I finally found peace, my mate—the one who rejected me—returned, begging for forgiveness.
But after everything he put me through, can I truly forgive him? Can I give him a second chance?

“The daughter of Alaric Blackstone. How dare you deceive me?”

Rejected for my bloodline, I faced a harsh truth: the man who once held me tenderly now looked at me with hatred. Marked as the shameful Omega daughter of an Alpha, I thought the mate bond was my salvation—only to find it was my curse.

Forced into marriage by my father as a bargaining chip, I made a decision to escape the torment and leave behind those who betrayed me. Years later, when I finally found peace, my mate returned, begging for forgiveness. However, after enduring all the pain he caused me, can I truly forgive him?

Matthew only ever saw me as his body to use for pleasure. Every time he touched me, he was looking through me, longing for another woman—his one true love.
I was just a stand-in, a shadow for three long years. When he finally announced his engagement, he cast me aside without a second thought. I was kidnapped, framed, and publicly humiliated, yet he watched it all with cold, indifferent eyes.
My heart died completely. I hid my positive pregnancy test and vanished without a trace. Only then did he panic, abandoning his pride to chase after me: “Eve, I’m not getting married. I only want you.”

In my past life, just one day before the national evaluation camp that would make or break his career, my hockey-prodigy best friend faked an illness. He was ready to throw away his entire future just to go party in Chicago with a cheerleader.

Thinking I was doing him a favor, I stepped in. I tipped off his coach, saved his career.

Years later, he became a multimillion-dollar superstar. His way of thanking me? Framing me with doctored charity records and sending me to federal prison. He even smiled as he delivered the final, crushing blow:

"I planned that crash on the icy road, Kassia. Your parents' lives were just the price you had to pay for sticking your nose where it didn't belong."

Now, my eyes snap open to the deafening cheers of our high school hockey arena.

Sitting right next to me, that same cheerleader is eagerly plotting how to corner him after the game.

Lila White never imagined that simply falling in love with someone could lead to losing her home, her father, and almost her life. Her love, humble to the core, still couldn't win his attention.
As time passed and everything came to light, she vaguely realized that she was the only one who thought he didn't love her. But by then, it was already too late.

I stare at him, watching his chest expand.

How is it that someone so strong, so powerful, so dangerous to find become so small when faced with an adversary? The adversary being me.

I see him, knees on the cold tiled floor, his eyes fixated on me in equal parts disbelief. I disconnect my vision from his small form, looking briefly at what I'm wearing.

This morning when I woke up, the sun was shining, snow melting on my front lawn. My kids were sleeping, my husband gone, as usual, working, making money.

Everything was normal except when I woke up this morning, I received a message. This message contained a lot of things I've been waiting to hear but one part, in particular, stood out and made today different. This person on his knees in front of me was the big difference in my day. So when I woke up this morning and decided what I was going to wear I decided I would not wear black because black represented the sign of mourning. I wasn't going to wear white. After all, white represented a sign of new beginnings and not blue.

Blue, well blue was a sign of trust and green with a side of healing so when I woke up this morning I decided I would wear beige, it was an indifferent color something that matched any mood any desire any belief it doesn't necessarily represent anything but nor did it negate anything.

'You know what is so satisfying about killing you?"

'What?" He inquires with that tilt of his mouth and thin lips I have seen a time or two. Many women found this man handsome. sexy even. I was not different, but I knew more than many of them what made him, his colors, the layers that fell away leaving only the middle left and when you looked at it with naked eyes you'd see it was rotten.

I laugh.

'I became a player in this cat and rat game much later. I find it comical that I am the one who gets to catch you, considering there are many people who started in the beginning. What is even funnier is I am the one who would get to kill you."

'You didn't catch me Mrs. Catelli."He says my surname with a pinched face as though he can't bear the sound of it coming from his lips.

'Then what do you oppose I did?"

He smiles, but it is not a nice one. It is filled with the ugliness which has corrupted him over the years.

Copyright © 2022 Shan R.K

All rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction from the Author's imagination.

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotations for reviews or fan-made articles.

Any names resembling any living person are purely coincidental.

First Edition.

April, 19th 2022

Written by Shan R.K

Dedication

I dedicate this book to you the reader. Please enjoy it and look out for the anthology on my website coming soon for free.