3316 Book(s) Related to dirty secret with my professor

They told Christine Hayes she was worthless—no wolf, no power, no place in the pack. Her own father sold her for fifty million dollars.

The buyer? The Lycan King himself.

Cedric Lancaster doesn't do love. Not anymore. His fated mate died in his arms five years ago, and he swore never to mark another. But Christine is carrying his twins—an accident from a night neither of them fully remembers—and his dying wolf spirit is screaming one word: MATE.

She signs his contract to save her dying brother. He tells himself it's just about the heir. But every time her green-apple scent fills the room, his iron control cracks a little more.

She's a wolfless Omega at the bottom of the hierarchy. He's the king at the top. The contract says she walks away after the birth.

But since when has the Moon Goddess ever played by anyone's rules?

“Do you know how sexy you look right now?” His deep voice made my core tingle as his fingers glided between my folds.

He was hot and I was slimy and wet. “Oh, gosh!” I threw my head back in pleasure as he increased his pace.

His magical fingers made me fidget shamelessly, “Please—” aching for a release.

“Do you want to cum for me, Pookie?” A dark smirk glinted at the corner of his lips.

And I…

I just couldn't take it anymore.


They called her ugly and fat, she felt out of place. The only family she had mistreated not until she encountered the billionaire golden boy who is ready to go miles for her.

But not without a storm ahead.

Eli is an omega. She gave five years of her life to Steven, believing he was her forever. But the day he landed a new job, he ended their relationship and told her she was holding him back. Heartbroken and humiliated, Eli returned home for what she thought would be her stepsister’s wedding.

Only it was not her stepsister’s wedding at all. It was hers. Her stepmother had arranged everything, and if Eli refused to marry the powerful stranger waiting for her at the altar, her father’s medical treatment would be cut off. With no choice left, Eli agreed.

She thought marrying a man she did not know was the worst thing that could happen. Then she saw Steven standing in the crowd. He was not just a guest. He worked for her new husband.

Now Eli is trapped in a marriage she never wanted, living in a house with the man who broke her heart, the husband who now owns it and now his twin brother who wants her.

Whose going to win Eli’s heart eventually?

“I want out of this marriage.”

The words were cold… ironic coming from the man who betrayed her five years ago.

But the broken woman he once discarded no longer exists.

She has rebuilt herself from the ashes… stronger, sharper, and untouchable. Now a powerful CEO and a devoted mother, she has no interest in reopening old wounds or letting the past back into her carefully rebuilt life.

Unfortunately, fate has other plans.

When the man who shattered her heart is suddenly thrown back into her world, buried emotions resurface… along with a secret powerful enough to change everything.

Because the little boy she fiercely protects may be his son.

Just when the past begins clawing its way back, another threat rises.

The woman currently by his side is not the type to walk away quietly. Ruthless, manipulative, and dangerously obsessed, she will stop at nothing to keep the man she claims as hers… even if it means destroying the woman he once lost and tearing apart the life she fought so hard to build.

This time, the stakes are higher.

And walking away may no longer be an option.

At Blackridge University, everyone knew the golden couple.

Taylor Hastings—the fierce, scholarship student who clawed her way to becoming head cheerleader—and Rowan Hayes, the hockey captain who treated her like the center of his universe.

They were campus royalty.

Until the video leaked.

One private night.
One humiliating betrayal.
And suddenly Taylor goes from adored to destroyed overnight.

Rowan swears it was an accident.

But Taylor knows the truth after hearing the whispers from his teammates… the jokes about the bet… the countdown they made over how long it would take him to get her into bed.

Their relationship was never love.

It was a game he won.

So Taylor decides to play one of her own.

Her target?
Hunter D’laurentis—the ruthless bad boy captain of Frostwood hockey and Rowan’s biggest rival.

Hunter wants one thing: the championship that could finally free him from his father’s suffocating control.

Taylor wants revenge brutal enough to make Rowan unravel before the biggest season of his life.

Fake dating should’ve been simple.

A few staged kisses.
A few jealous headlines.
A few public appearances designed to destroy a rival captain’s focus before the championship game.

But Hunter D’laurentis touches her like she’s something worth protecting instead of ruining.

And when the line between fake and real disappears beneath flashing cameras, screaming crowds, and bruised hearts, Taylor realizes revenge was never the dangerous part.

Falling for her rival was.

The folder slid across the table toward Hannah's husband. Sign here. Family helps family.

What the Whitfields never once thought to wonder was that the quiet daughter-in-law they'd spent four years bleeding had almost three million dollars they couldn't see.

She'd hidden it for one reason: to keep the only good man in that family from being turned into their wallet.

Now they wanted his signature. His house. His name on their debt.

They had spent a lifetime underestimating the quiet one.

They were about to learn what that costs.

Yes, I jumped from that rooftop. Wind screaming in my ears as I fell, thinking it might finally earn me one fucking tear from them. Instead, all I got was "she's so dramatic."
Now I'm staring at fifteen-year-old skin in the mirror. Downstairs, their fake voices call my name—identical to that "welcome home" afternoon three years ago.
Yvette rushes to hug me, sugar-sweet venom dripping from her lips: "Remember who the princess is." I give her the same plastic smile right back.
I hear the voice in my head crystal clear: This time, I'm not fighting for their love—I'm taking back the life that was always mine.

My little sister and I each bear a Heart-Seed Mark etched into our chests.
Inside each seed grow Heartbeat Petals—currency that can trade for anything under the boughs of The Heart-Root, the ancient devouring tree.
At eight years old, I plucked one petal to cure Mom’s terminal cancer.
At ten, I tore out another to mend my older brother’s shattered bones after his brutal fight.
At twenty-four, I sacrificed my third and final petal to wake my husband’s sister from a car-crash-induced vegetative state.
Now, two disasters struck at once: my father died in a horrific car wreck, and my husband’s mistress lost their unborn baby.
Both sides of my family flocked to The Heart-Root, all fixated on stealing my petals for their own wishes.
I tried to step aside and let my younger sister go first to make the trade, but Mom shoved me hard.
“Every bit of love we’ve poured into you these years, every petal came from us! You’d really hold out and refuse to save your own father? Ungrateful girl!” my mom snapped.
My husband’s mom cut in sharp as a knife: “A good wife knows her place. It’s your duty to bring that baby back for your husband. If only you’d given him a son yourself.”
They tied me tight to the tree trunk. I watched a girl standing nearby get torn apart by black, writhing vines when she had no petals left—her flesh dissolved straight into the tree’s roots to feed it.
But my Heart-Seed didn’t have a single petal left either...

I die a miserable death in the dungeon, drained of three hundred years of pure blood. I owe it all to Elena and my ridiculously biased clan.

In my previous life, I am the Chief Executioner of the Night Abyss clan. During our hunt for the Alpha Wolf, she drops her weapon and throws herself into Lucas's arms, playing the helpless victim.

I take the beast's attack head-on and suffer severe injuries. The other knights just shield her, turning around to accuse me of being petty and jealous.

Prince Marcus blatantly favors his illegitimate daughter, Elena. He snatches my magic core, constantly puts me down, and even rips the core out of my loyal wolf familiar, Fenrir. In the end, he drains my blood dry just to feed her.

Now that I am reborn, I return to the exact night we hunt the high-tier Alpha Wolf.

I came across a viral local post while scrolling through my phone.

LIVE: My fiancée is cheating on me. I’m in her house right now. Should I end her for good?

When I tapped into the post, what I read made the blood in my veins turn to ice in an instant.

I put a monitoring app on her phone. I’ve been listening for almost two weeks, and every single day she’s on the line with some random guy, flirting and talking dirty. She says yes to marrying me to my face, but she’s been cuckolding me behind my back. Tell me, bros—does this bitch deserve to die?

The comment section below had completely spiraled out of control. Hundreds of replies were all outright egging him on, not a single person telling him to stop. Every line oozed with the vicious glee of people who lived for drama and cared nothing for the consequences.

Hell yeah she does. You got cucked this hard, why keep her around?
Bro, stop all talk and no action. Go live, we’ll send you gifts. Rape her first, then kill her if you’ve got the balls.
You in Haicheng? Drop the address. Me and the boys will come over and help you out. My fists are itching for a fight anyway.
Pfft, and I thought you were tough. You’re already in her house and still dragging your feet? I bet you don’t even have the guts to kill a dog.

My fingers were shaking violently. Driven by a sick, twisting dread, I tapped into the poster’s profile—and with just one glance, every hair on my body stood on end.

This account belonged to Xiao Ming, the blind date my relatives had forced on me when I went home for the Lunar New Year.

His entire profile was filled with posts about me, spanning a full two weeks, starting the very day we’d met for that blind date.

He’d taken secret photos of me, paired with captions full of disgusting, delusional ramblings:

My fiancée went on a date with me today. She wore a white blouse with the neckline open so low, it’s obvious she was trying to seduce me.
She told me she works the front desk at a hotel. That’s her way of hinting I should take her to a room for the night. All women say one thing and mean another.
She says she has a boyfriend, but it’s just playing hard to get. She’s been dying to marry me this whole time.

But I’d said it loud and clear, right in front of the matchmaker, on the very day of that blind date: I’d been in a committed relationship with my boyfriend for three years.

That blind date was nothing more than a way to appease my family. I’d been polite but distant the entire time, and I hadn’t even accepted a single glass of water from him.

As for that nonsense about a hotel room? It was complete and utter garbage. I’d only casually mentioned that my job was working the front desk at a hotel, nothing more.

Just as a bone-deep chill washed over me, the post refreshed. A new line had been added to the main post, timestamped just three seconds earlier:

Truth is, I’m hiding in her house right now. She’s lying in bed scrolling through her phone, and she has no idea she’s already dead meat.

The very second that line finished loading, a clear, soft rustle of fabric came from the wardrobe right behind me.

At the Waldorf Astoria in Manhattan, my ex-husband threw champagne all over me, and my wife publicly called me a "gold digger."

I held the tray, silent, like a clown being punished.

Three years ago, I lived in anonymity with her in a basement, cooking and doing laundry for her, all because of the pure stubbornness in her eyes.

In return, she embraced her father's killer and trampled me into the mud.

The divorce agreement was signed quickly, and she got into a Porsche with her enemy.

I laughed.
The next day, a Maybach pulled up in front of the law firm, escorted by eight bodyguards. The sole heir to the oldest conglomerate on the East Coast had returned.

While she was watching the cheap TV in the supermarket, seeing me marry a European princess, she was kneeling in front of a cold shelf, being verbally abused by a homeless man over a moldy potato.

The invincible Dragon Lord Kane returns from the Northern Frontier, only to find his daughter caged and his pianist wife trapped in a luxury lounge. He chains her in pain, summons 10,000 elite soldiers to rush her performance, while hidden demon forces creep in to destroy his family.

My biggest regret? Trusting my husband with my mother's life.

The day the mudslide hit, I was on my knees. Begging him to send a helicopter.

He told me to wait. Twenty minutes. But when the helicopter came, it went for his adoptive sister Vivian instead.

I held my mother in the ruins. Her body was shutting down. I waited. Waited until she went cold in my arms.

When he finally showed up at the hospital, the first thing he said? Accused me of faking it. Said I just wanted attention.

In that moment, my heart died too.

Later, I found out Vivian wasn't even sick.

She said "I don't feel well"—that's all it took. And he left my mother and me to die.

Called me a lunatic. In front of everyone. All for her.

I was ready to leave. For good. Then someone shattered my mother's ashes.

I thought my husband was my salvation.
Until I overheard him in the wine cellar, laughing and joking with my "attackers" from that night.
The gang rape that destroyed me was a show he orchestrated himself.

He married me only for inheritance rights.
He humiliated me, branded me, took away my child, and made my life a living hell.
But he forgot one thing—
The ancient blood oath of the Corleone family states clearly:
If a husband betrays his marriage, everything he owns shall belong to his wife.

This time, I'm no longer the rabbit waiting to be slaughtered.
This time, I write the ending.

One month until the SAT.
Staring at my phone screen—at the pulsing number on "Oracle," the mandatory score prediction app that Elite Prep forced every student to install—I couldn't help but think it was all a joke.
In my previous life, every time I finished a practice test, this garbage system would automatically dock twenty points from my predicted score.
But skip class for a day? The number would mysteriously jump up twenty points.
Back then, I actually believed in this bullshit algorithm. I completely gave up for an entire month, watching that predicted score skyrocket all the way to 1550.
But when I finally logged into College Board to check my real results, I'd scored a pathetic 400.
And that brilliant 1550? It appeared on my stepsister Dahlia's score report instead.
Disgusted that I'd embarrassed the Wright family, my father Harold froze my credit card without a second thought and threw me out of the family estate, clearing the path for Dahlia to claim Grandpa's ten-million-dollar trust fund all for herself.
That night, homeless on the streets, I was cornered by some thugs in a filthy Brooklyn alley and beaten to death.
Lying in a pool of my own blood, fading fast, I heard Dahlia's voice.
"Your GPA's been crushing mine since we were kids. I thought you, the so-called 'Straight-A student,' were supposed to be so smart."
She stood over me, mocking. "Turns out you got played by a prediction app. Pathetic."
That's when it finally clicked. My Oracle prediction system had been completely rigged from the source code—by Dahlia.
I shot up in bed, gasping, my shirt soaked through with sweat. I'd actually gone back in time—one month before the test.
Right now, the Oracle widget glowed eerily on my phone's home screen, displaying a single number: 1350.

For three years, everyone at Spire Academy believed Liam loved me. Until I uncovered his secret plan: steal my academy recommendation to save Anna, and keep me waiting on the sidelines. He handed my future to another girl and threw me to a mad duke to be dissected. I escaped death by leaping into the Rift of Silence, only to be pulled from the abyss by Arnold, an ancient night lord. When Liam finally realized his sin, he begged for a second chance. But the girl who waited for him in the dark died in the rift. I have a new life, and I will never look back.

My sister and I both married the wrong men in our past lives. I was bound to an overbearing Lycan Duke, who saw me as nothing more than a vessel for his heir. I ultimately lost my life in childbirth. My sister wed a frivolous Fae Prince, hounded and tormented by his countless mistresses until she was driven to take her own life.
Reborn before our weddings, we bravely choose to swap our marriage contracts, determined to break free from our cruel fates. This time, we rewrite our stories and grasp the our happy lives .

I think I'm dead.

When I opened my eyes, I found myself standing in an abandoned amusement park, and my body was sitting on that slowly turning carousel.

I was only ten years old. I don't know how I died.

Detective Sarah, the blonde officer, promised to find the truth. So I followed her, watching her peel away layer after layer of lies—

In my diary, I wrote down all my fears and all my waiting.

On the phone, Mom sent that video of me laughing.

In the autopsy report, evidence of long-term abuse filled every page.

Mom had been saving money for three years, saying she'd take me away. That afternoon she picked me up from school and said, "We're really leaving this time."

Then what happened? Why did I die at the amusement park? Why was Mom's first reaction after my death not to call the police, but to—

I thought Mom came to save me.

Until I saw the text message she sent...

A past generations’ wrongful case makes Julian mistake innocent Sienna for his foe’s daughter. Exploiting her crush, he ruins her Cambridge dream on graduation night, destroying her family. For five years, Sienna works in a sleazy club to fund her sick mother’s care.
Their unexpected reunion leaves Julian torn between disgust and secret affection. When the truth surfaces, consumed by regret, he cancels his wedding and spends all his wealth to atone. Yet Sienna’s love is long gone. After settling her family with his money, she leaves forever.

I’m Wren, hidden sole heir of Ravenwood Pack, living as a regular lone wolf at wolf academy. My roommate Brielle steals my exclusive pine pheromone, copies my relics, steals my elite quota and tricks my betrothed Alpha Kane with a fake royal identity. I challenge her to present the unforgeable Lunar Pearl at the ball. When my father, the pack Alpha, exposes her family’s theft, I reject the misled Kane and reclaim everything the imposter stole from me.

My husband, Roman, has a bad heart. Five years ago they cut his chest open, and after that I quit my job and stayed home to keep him alive.
That day I got to his office ten minutes early with his lunch.
Through the glass door I watched Brielle Nash, his assistant, pick up his pill box. Twenty-eight compartments. I fill it every Sunday night.
She flipped open Wednesday evening, tipped the pills into her palm, and dropped them in the trash.
"That's the one that makes you feel eighty."
Roman laughed. He didn't stop her.
Then she handed him the can she'd been drinking from, and he took a sip out of her hand.
"That's living," she said. "Don't tell the boss lady, though. She'd have me fired."
He reached over and ruffled her hair. "I'll lock it in my drawer."
My lunchbox was sitting by his elbow. He hadn't opened it.
Later I found the flask in that drawer. Supplement bottles. A keycard for a boxing gym.
And a key I hadn't seen in five years.
I didn't do anything.
I went home and opened the safe and went through fifteen years of marriage one thing at a time.
Then I started working out what would be mine when he died.

After three years of agonizing IVF, I was forced into three abortions. The reason? My mafia in-laws’ pet bird stared at my belly and shrieked, "End it."
Even when I was carrying healthy twins, my own parents held me down and forced abortion pills down my throat. My husband—the man I once took a bullet for—watched coldly. "Listen to the bird. Abort."
Lying in a pool of blood, I finally discovered the horrific truth. There was no "sacred bird." My marriage, my ruined womb, and all the IVF tortures were actually part of a terrifying conspiracy.
On my fourth pregnancy, the bird finally decreed, "Keep it!"
As the whole family treated me like a queen and rejoiced to welcome their precious heir, I quietly walked into the operating room.
Armed with lethal evidence, I crashed their grand succession ceremony.
You want an heir? I’ll send you all to hell instead.

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

In my past life, I was the ultimate fool.

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

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

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

I begged them to stop.

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

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

Liam and Noah completely lost their minds.

That night, they cornered me on the roof.

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

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

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

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

This time, count me out.

When my husband's eight-year-old "nephew" Noah was diagnosed with acute leukemia, the whole family begged for my help.

They needed my six-year-old daughter, Molly—the only perfect match.

Against my instincts as a head nurse, I agreed.

But the second Molly's stem cells were harvested, their gratitude vanished.

To avoid paying for my daughter’s mandatory sterile recovery room, Noah's mother live-streamed a crying fit in my lobby, accusing me of medical extortion. My husband, Grant, stood by in utter silence.

Without the isolation bed, my baby girl contracted a severe infection and died. My mother-in-law simply sneered outside the ICU, "Dead is dead. Better than wasting more money."

Three months later, Noah relapses.

Now, my phone is blowing up. The same people who watched my daughter suffocate in her own fluids are desperately begging me to use my hospital registry access to save him again.

Standing by Molly’s tiny headstone, I look down at the confidential DNA report I pulled from the hospital database.

They think I don’t know Noah is actually Grant's illegitimate son. They think I'll just hang up and cry.

Instead, I swipe to answer the call. It's time to make them pay.

To protect my older sister's piano championship, my own brother crushed all ten of my fingers.
To win my sister's favor, my fiancé hired someone to kick the baby out of me.
After surviving a fire that nearly killed me, I finally woke up.
And when I returned, I blasted the hard proof of their affair and their schemes all over the internet. As I watched them lose their minds, lose everything, and drop to their knees begging for mercy, I let out a cold laugh, turned around, and claimed the top of the world!

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

In my last life, my mother-in-law locked me in the attic, and my wife openly cheated on me with the neighbor. Even when I was dying of terminal cancer, they bled me dry until my very last breath! Now that I've been reborn, the extreme-heat apocalypse is just around the corner. In this life, I'm living for myself. I spend every last cent of my savings stockpiling three years' worth of supplies and building a heat-proof survival villa! Now I can sit back and watch my mother-in-law's family struggle to survive in the deadly heat. Beg on their knees for my forgiveness? No! I will never forgive them!

All I wanted was a quiet place to live. I drained my savings and paid eighty thousand extra for the one unit on the row with a private backyard.
On my very first day, I found my neighbor's son beating my new hydrangeas with a stick while his mother stood there filming him and laughing.
Bianca says the yard belongs to everybody. Her husband is vice president of the HOA board, so around here, whatever he says is the law.
I showed them my deed. I called the police. I sent a certified letter. Every single time the answer came back the same. This is a civil matter, ma'am. Maybe try being a better neighbor.
Then her son put a rock through my living room window, and the HOA fined me two hundred and fifty dollars for putting a lock on my own gate.
Fine. They want that gate open? It stays open.
I just made one phone call. A truck is already on its way.

On my birthday, I was dragged up to the attic and assaulted by several men.
I called my parents, brother, and boyfriend for help, but they all thought I was seeking attention and ruining my sister Sophie's celebration.
"Mia, stop it. We're busy preparing for Sophie's party. If you want attention, find another way."
This was the hundredth time they'd let me down.
But there won't be a hundred and first.
Because I'm already dead.

I had been Lucan Ferretti's wife for five years. I had also been the woman who took a bullet meant for him.
Four years of fertility treatments. Four years of empty rooms where a nursery should have been. Then, the day I finally get a positive test, I find something else: two secret sons, funded by my husband's money, waiting in a house I was never supposed to find.
Their names? The ones Lucan and I picked out together, years ago, in a hospital parking lot.
That night, I sat alone with the positive test still in my hand, memorizing the names he'd already given to someone else's sons.
I could have confronted him. I could have screamed, thrown things, demanded a divorce.
Instead, I find a text message. His mistress has already ordered a hit — on me, timed for our anniversary, dressed up to look like enemy retaliation.
She wants me dead before I can tell anyone I'm carrying his child.
Fine.
She can have exactly what she asked for.

Two years ago, my best friend Maddie knelt in front of me, crying as she borrowed $50,000.
The very next day, she vanished off the face of the earth. No explanation, no apology, not even a single text message.
I was left carrying her toxic debt. I lost my fiancé, and I lost my ability to trust anyone.
Until one late night, a call came in from an unknown number originating in an abandoned mining district in West Virginia.
On the other end of the line, Maddie said she was getting married. She had the money ready—every last cent.
The wedding venue was a ruined church deep in the mountains, abandoned for a decade. The time: Friday, midnight.

My downstairs neighbor tagged me in the building group chat at ten p.m.
His wife just had a pup, he said. Pups need moonlight, he said. So starting tonight, my private moon terrace belongs to his family.
He'd even pay me rent. Ten dollars a month.
For the terrace of a three-million-dollar penthouse.
When I said no, he reminded me he wasn't just my neighbor. He's my supervisor at the Calloway Group, and my probation review sits in his hands. Hand over the door code, or I'd never survive at that company.
He kept saying it. I can crush you at the Calloway Group.
Funny.
My mother owns the Calloway Group.
I was going to let him dig his own grave quietly. Then his family broke into my home, walked up to the one thing on that terrace worth half a million dollars—
And smashed it.

The day before spring break, Cole Bennett asks me, red in the face, if he can borrow my empty place up in the hills for one night.

I figure he's planning a birthday party for me, so I don't think twice about handing over the code to the estate.

I've already decided that night is when I'll tell him who I really am.

Eight o'clock on my birthday, I push open the brass doors of the estate, worth millions by themselves.

Music blasts through the great room. The place is packed with people from school, all of them craning their necks, gushing about how gorgeous the house is.

I hold back a grin, ready to go find him and see what he's got planned.

Then I see her in the middle of the crowd, everyone crowding around her, glasses raised.

Sloane Bishop.

Five years in hell, my beloved and best friend joined hands to push me into the abyss. The savior I trusted was actually a deadly fraud. Reborn from despair, Vito came through the light. I tore apart the scumbag and the evil woman, settled all debts, broke free from the shadow, stepped into the light, and lived the rest of my life only for myself.

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

My dad made me a smoothie every morning for six months. I thought it was love.
It was a muscle relaxant.
He'd been slipping just enough into my drink to make my fingers tremble at full draw — just enough to cost me first place at every major competition. Not enough to kill me. Just enough to let Laurel beat me.
Laurel. His mistress's daughter. The girl he bought custom diamond jewelry while giving me clearance-rack gear for my birthday. The girl he wanted to drop into my family, my home, and my spot on the podium.
I found the proof. Stopped drinking his smoothies. Clawed my way back to number one.
Then, two days before the National Youth Archery Trials — the one competition that decides everything — he picked up a steel rod and swung it at my right arm.
My drawing arm.
The bone cracked. Doctors said three months minimum. My coach couldn't look me in the eye. Every scout, every scholarship, every dream I'd bled for over three years — gone in one swing from the man who was supposed to protect me.
Trials start tomorrow morning. And I can't hold a bow.

One of my employees went online and dragged me, claiming I'm making them sacrifice their health for a paycheck and forcing everyone to work over Thanksgiving.

Here's what actually happened. My company gives nine days off for Thanksgiving. Volunteer to work overtime, get triple pay, with a $500 daily meal stipend and a $5,000 bonus. No one gets penalized for not working.

The whole internet's tearing into me for making employees sell their lives for cash. So I give her exactly what she wants and send out a company-wide notice:

To protect employee mental health, the building gets locked and the power gets cut over Thanksgiving. No one is allowed to work for any reason. Anyone who does gets fired.

The minute that email goes out, the employees who were counting on overtime to pay their mortgages lose it. Now they're all crowded outside the building, begging me to open the doors.

"Happy anniversary, darling. Look what I brought you." My husband's snow-white python once felt like proof of his love—until I remembered dying with it wrapped around my throat. In my past life, I doted on that "gift" for an entire year, never once suspecting its true nature, while my husband and daughter quietly counted down the days until I stopped breathing. Reborn on the very night he presents that same box again, I swear this time will be different.

To win back his one true love, my husband sent me, pregnant and vulnerable, straight into the clutches of a rival mob's dungeon.
I was torn apart by vicious dogs, a brutal end for both me and my unborn child.
After death, my spirit drifted back home, only to hear him coldly chuckle, "Let her learn her lesson; she won't come back until she admits she was wrong."
It wasn't until a mangled, rotting body was dumped at his feet, and he saw the blood-soaked wedding ring on its finger, that this heartless mob boss finally snapped...

"Forty dollars. That's all the inhaler I needed to breathe cost. But in our house, nothing comes easy. 'Fairness first. Roll the dice — highest number wins.' I've rolled my whole life. I've never won. Not once. Tonight, lungs burning, vision blurring, I rolled for my medicine money against my sister. She got a six. I got a two. 'You lost, Hazel. Now go to the attic and think about your selfishness.' The door locked behind me. My chest is closing up. And no one is coming to check."

"Are you always this damn sensitive?" my husband snapped, his hands lingering on his ex’s waist.
I stood there, holding our 5th-anniversary cake and my pregnancy secret. He canceled our romantic dinner just to comfort her.
So, I threw the cake away. Next, I'll throw him away.

Married to the head of the Valenti family for five years. Kidnapped on our anniversary. Pregnant a month later.
Five paternity tests said the baby wasn't his. My husband got a vasectomy and swore he'd raise the child as his own.
I believed him.
Then came the therapy. The drugs. Nightmares where I was pinned down by multiple men, so real I could feel their hands hours after waking. I scrubbed my skin raw. Tried to end it six times.
He saved me every time. Held my hand. Told me no one would ever hurt me again.
Until the night I heard him laughing about it in his study.
The kidnapping was staged. The nightmares were chemicals. The DNA reports were forged. All of it — designed by my own husband to protect another woman.
Now I have a recording, a divorce agreement, and a very small box of ashes.
He's marrying her next week. I'll make sure he gets my wedding gift on time.

For nine years, I lived as my twin sister’s replacement Luna. I raised her pup as if she were my own. I treated that man as my fated mate. What I got in return was the Pack that unanimously decided I was the monster who “killed Edna”, and the sinner Ann swore should go to hell.
At Ann’s birthday banquet, I accidentally knocked over a framed photo. Ann shoved me in front of a room full of Alphas and elders, drenching me in red wine, smiling as she said I wasn’t worthy of touching anything of the House.
I thought that if I endured nine years, I could finally leave. Then Eric suddenly changed his mind.
Ann stuffed the corpse of the little bird I’d been raising into a gift box and threatened me with a sweet smile. “You’re the next.”
When I dragged my suitcase to the door, she shifted to wolf in front of everyone, slammed me to the ground, her fangs pressed against my throat.
What they didn’t expect was that my real backer had returned, the Alpha of the Blood Moon Pack, my biological father, David.

Five years, I bled for Dario. Took a bullet for him. Cleaned up his dirtiest books. Drank myself into the ER just to keep his bosses sweet.
Then he slid divorce papers across the table and told me to sign. His mistress was pregnant; the family needed a "proper" heir, and I was in the way. So I signed—and let him strip me of everything I'd built.
Three hours later, a rival crew ran his car off the bridge. He survived. But he will never father a child again.
Now he's pouring a fortune he can't spare into his mistress's baby, showing off his "heir" to every boss in New York. He thinks his bloodline is finally safe.
He has no idea whose child he's really raising. And I'm the only one who does.

I was once the supreme ruler of the global underworld, stepping down from my throne just to cook hot meals for my daughter. Yet, my arrogant brother-in-law mistook my silence for weakness. He smashed my home, tried to hand my wife over to a Mafia Don for his own career, and even stole my Black-Gold Skull Coin as a tribute!
Fine. You want to play? I'll grant your wish.
With a single keystroke, I initiated the DEFCON-1 combat protocol. Instantly, one hundred thousand of the world’s most elite mercenaries went berserk, locking down the entirety of New York City!

Three years ago, Violet Sorel watched the crown prince of Valdris burn her world to the ground. He took her kingdom, killed her parents, bit her in her own courtyard, and left her for dead. She survived. She planned. And when his palace posted an open call for blood servants, she walked straight through his doors with a smile on her face and murder in her heart.

Getting close to Prince Caspian was supposed to be simple. It was never simple.

Now she is his blood servant, his secret, and the first witch to walk Solaria in a thousand years — shipped off to Eirenmoor Academy where an incubus knows her from her dreams, a fae lord won't stay out of her forest, and the prince himself keeps looking at her like he is trying to remember something he was never supposed to forget.

She has a plan. She has a poison. She has everything she needs to destroy him.

The problem is the bond between them and the fact that it has never, not once, felt like hate.

The last witch of solaria is the first book in the Solaria trilogy… a slow burn reverse harem fantasy romance featuring a morally complex heroine, political intrigue, a magic academy that kills its students, and a revenge plot that refuses to stay simple.

"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?

Lu Tian once reigned at the pinnacle of the Azure Sect, until the elders he trusted betrayed him. Stripped of support and condemned under the guise of righteousness, he witnessed his sect’s collapse and the Wunhai Empire’s desperate losing war against invaders from the upper realms. Then he died.
Now he awakens forty years earlier—a fifteen-year-old disciple with crippled cultivation after saving his fellow juniors on a deadly mission. This time, every painful memory remains.
Three years stand between him and the Inter-Sect Competition that once triggered Azure Sect’s downfall. Determined to defy fate, Lu Tian secretly selects ten promising disciples and trains them in the shadows. Together they raid forbidden inheritance ruins and cultivate the mysterious Void Technique, a power no one else can wield.
When the sect claims victory despite vicious sabotage, Lu Tian’s name echoes across the empire. Jealousy festers. The elders send him to the blood-soaked frontlines hoping he never returns. He comes back stronger and more dangerous than ever.
Only then does the devastating truth reveal itself: The Wunhai Empire is no ordinary mortal realm. It is a hidden sanctuary forged by the last Immortal who defied the upper worlds. And the blood flowing in Lu Tian’s veins belongs to that very Immortal—the ultimate prize the invaders seek to extinguish.
Upper realm envoys have already infiltrated the four great sects, corrupting elders and twisting the imperial throne from within. This time, Lu Tian refuses to die in ignorance. He will awaken the power of his immortal bloodline… or watch the entire Wunhai Empire burn.

Rebirth. Revenge. Romance.
In her past life, Delia was blind to love. Betrayed by her cousin and ex, she discarded her "crippled" husband Curtis-only to die disfigured and alone.
Now she's back.
This time, she tears up the divorce papers and clings to Curtis's side-only to discover he's not weak at all. In fact, when he rises from his wheelchair, the world bows.
"You're mine-body and soul," he growls, his voice like velvet and steel.
She's the one seducing him now-until he's addicted, crazed, and can't live without her.
She'll crush her enemies, reclaim everything they stole, and love the man who once gave her the world.
This time, she'll give him back everything-and more.