All works

I was the long-lost heiress to the Alston family, with a loving husband, a protective brother, and two beautiful twin daughters. My life was perfect. But the day my daughters died in a fire, the two men I loved most didn't comfort me. They protected the woman responsible-Jorja, the one I was switched at birth with. They locked me in a psychiatric ward, claiming I was insane with grief. They said Jorja was a hero who had once saved their lives, and they would protect her at all costs. To save my last surviving daughter, who lay in a coma, they forced me to my knees. I had to publicly confess I was an unfit mother and that my children's deaths were my fault. But it was all a lie. They let my last daughter die anyway, diverting her doctors to treat Jorja for a scratch on her wrist. As I walked out of the hospital, carrying my daughter's cold body, my phone rang. It was a prosecutor. "I saw your post," he said. "Do you still need a lawyer?"

I gave up my medical school acceptance to become a ghost bride, forced by my adoptive parents to marry a billionaire heir I had never met. But on the day he returned to the country, I was shoved into a dark airport lounge during a security lockdown and violently assaulted by a stranger. Before I could even process the trauma, my husband's lawyers called. "As per the strict fidelity clause, you will receive nothing." My adoptive family cast me out in disgust. Weeks later, I discovered I was pregnant from that terrifying night. Penniless and alone, I fled to the mountains, nearly dying in a blizzard before giving birth to triplets. Six years later, I returned to New York just to finalize the divorce so my sons could get legal identities. But my five-year-old son, furious that his brother was bullied by a socialite, retaliated by disabling a billionaire's armored car. I was dragged from my cheap motel room by bodyguards and thrown before the billionaire. "Pay the half-million in damages, or I'll ensure your son gets a juvenile record." Looking up, my breath caught. The man's strong jaw and sapphire-blue eyes were exact replicas of my sons' faces. He was the stranger from the dark lounge, and the very husband I was trying to divorce. Yet he looked at me with pure contempt, entirely unaware that the woman he was extorting was his legal wife, and the boy he threatened was his own flesh and blood. I clenched my fists, realizing I was done running.

For three years, Aria Beaumont lived as a ghost, sacrificing her identity as a bestselling author to be the secret wife of billionaire Julian Vanderbilt. On their third anniversary, instead of a celebration, Julian handed her a cold, legal document. "I want to end our marriage. I am in love with someone else." He was leaving her for Isabelle Vance, Hollywood's reigning sweetheart. Aria didn't beg or cry. She signed the divorce papers, threw her platinum wedding band into a koi pond, and walked away to rebuild her life. But her quiet surrender wasn't enough for the new couple. Isabelle orchestrated a paparazzi ambush, lured Aria to a secluded resort under the guise of a peace offering, and drugged her tea. As the heavy sedative pulled Aria under, Isabelle smiled and let two hired thugs into the room. She planned to film a sordid, drug-fueled assault to utterly destroy Aria's reputation and frame her as an unstable ex-wife. Fighting through the haze, Aria slashed her way out with a shard of broken glass and barely escaped with her life. Waking up in a sterile hospital bed, Aria was consumed by a chilling confusion. She had given up the marriage without a single fight. Why were they still trying to push her to the brink of death? Before she could process the trauma, her cousin rushed into the room with a pale face. "Aria, no one has heard from your brother in forty-eight hours. He's missing." The divorce wasn't just a betrayal. It was a calculated hunt, and Aria was finally ready to strike back.

Chloe almost died in a massive fire that reduced her childhood home to ashes. Lying on a stretcher, choking on smoke, she desperately called her billionaire husband, Julian. He sent her straight to voicemail. Sitting alone in the emergency room, she looked up at the TV and saw the breaking news. Julian was at another hospital, standing vigil for his ex-girlfriend, Ashley. Ashley was just feeling a little cold, so Julian dropped everything to drape his coat—the very coat Chloe had saved up for six months to buy him—over her shoulders. When Chloe finally dragged her burned, exhausted body back to their mansion, Julian returned only to sneer at her angry red burns. "What's this? A new performance to get me to come home?" He pinned her to the bed, reeking of Ashley's perfume, and demanded she fulfill her wifely duties. For three years, Chloe had buried her identity as a talented screenwriter to play his perfect, docile wife. Yet, her near-death experience meant nothing compared to another woman's minor discomfort. The realization hit her like a physical blow. She was nothing but a convenient shield to him. The last shred of her love turned to ash. She slapped him hard across the face, packed a single suitcase, and transferred every dime he had ever given her back to his account—adding exactly one cent for interest. Then, she dusted off her old laptop to accept a massive Hollywood movie deal, and sent a courier to publicly serve Julian divorce papers right in the middle of his elite Manhattan club.

I was staring at the black-and-white ultrasound of our baby, waiting to share the joy with the man I had loved for eight years. But Preston walked into the clinic flashing a brand-new solid gold wedding band. He told me he had just married a mafia princess to secure his territory. He demanded I become his secret mistress and keep our unborn child. If I dared to abort his heir, he would pull his protection and leave my father for dead. When I refused and tried to leave him, his new wife orchestrated a federal raid on my father's business. Preston stood by and let it happen, using my family's ruin to force my submission. Driven to absolute despair, my father jumped from the roof of his building. Hours later, my mother suffered a massive, fatal heart attack from the shock. Preston rushed to the emergency room, dropping to his knees and begging for my forgiveness. He cried that he didn't know his wife ordered the hit, claiming he only wanted to scare my father so I would stay. I looked at the man who had promised me the world, my bare feet covered in my own blood, my parents lying dead on steel slabs just steps away. "You have nothing left to threaten me with." Returning to my empty apartment, I bypassed the mafia's digital firewall and uploaded their darkest secrets to the world.

Two years of a loveless marriage. Ten months left on the contract. He publicly humiliated her. Hired private investigators to threaten her family. Swore he'd never touch her. "Don't ever forget your place, Chloe." So she broke him with six words: "All I feel for you is disgust." She thought she was finally free. That night, Julian showed up at her door with a moving truck. "Open up, Chloe. I live here now." The husband who couldn't stand her... can't seem to let her go.

The smell of old paper filled Chloe Gates's lungs as she woke up with a violent gasp in the dead-quiet public library. Her phone screen lit up with a severe weather alert for October 25th, but she knew it wasn't just a storm. It was an engineered apocalypse, the gentle whisper before a global scream orchestrated by a shadowy organization. In her past life, this day marked the beginning of a starving, freezing hell. She remembered gnawing on mushy tree bark in the wasteland of Central Park, and the sickening crack of her own ribs when a man beat her for a piece of scavenged meat. But the deepest trauma came from Jacob Daniels, the elite security chief of the Haven Group. When the deadly blizzard hit, he was the one who locked the compound gates, ignoring her desperate pleas as he left her outside to die. "Are you alright? Should I call someone?" The voice belonged to Jacob himself, standing right in front of her in the library, offering a hypocritical courtesy that mocked her agonizing death. She had died a naive, trusting victim, crushed by a merciless system while the rich and powerful survived. Why should she freeze in the snow again while they profited from the end of the world? Looking down, a silver hexagram glowed faintly on her wrist-her infinite sub-dimensional storage unit had traveled back with her. With twenty-four hours left and an eight-million-dollar trust fund, Chloe walked out of the library. This time, she was going to buy the world.

Seraphina was locked in a sterile psychiatric facility, treated as a compliant, living blood bag for her husband's mistress, Lila. But today, Lila walked in with a Cartier bracelet and a newspaper, revealing that Slade had orchestrated the complete ruin of Seraphina's family. Slade had used Seraphina's pillow talk to bankrupt her father's company. He tampered with her brother's brakes, framed her other brother for insider trading, and arranged the fatal car crash that killed her mother. Their entire marriage was a meticulously crafted lie to harvest her rare Rh-negative O-type blood to keep Lila and her unborn baby healthy. When Seraphina lunged at her in agonizing realization, Lila simply smiled and staged a fake attack. She watched helplessly as the nurses rushed in and injected her with a lethal sedative. As her heart monitor flatlined, she stared at the white ceiling, her soul consumed by regret and pure hatred. She had defied her loving family for a monster who slaughtered them all. She vowed to the darkness that if there was any justice, she would strip them of everything and make them beg for a death that would never come. Gasping for air, Seraphina opened her eyes. She was back ten years ago, sitting in a luxury hospital room, right as the nurse approached with a needle for Lila's very first blood donation. This time, she smashed the tray to the floor. "Under federal law, drawing my blood without explicit consent is assault." In this life, she would be the butcher.

Ximena Castellanos was supposed to be a ghost. In a world ruled by the ancient Alpha bloodlines of Spain, being born without the Shift meant being invisible. She was just the powerless daughter of the most feared Alpha in the country that was overlooked, underestimated, and kept.   But on her twenty-first birthday, a golden Mark burns into her skin, binding her soul to Bastián Valdemar, the ruthless Alpha who just crushed her pack into ruin. To her father, she is now a weapon. To Bastián, her blood makes her the ultimate enemy.   To survive, Ximena fakes her death and infiltrates Bastián's pack under the false name Salomé. The plan is simple: hide in plain sight. Earn his trust. Then destroy him from within.   But the Vínculo cannot be denied. As Bastián hunts relentlessly for the missing Castellanos heir, he finds himself dangerously obsessed with the sharp-tongued woman standing right in front of him. Every stolen touch threatens to expose her. Every shared breath pulls the trigger. He bullies her, tests her, tries to break her but she refuses to bend.   When the truth finally drops, the blood spilled will either drown their world or forge an empire.

After six years of failed fertility treatments, my fiancé Blake and I were finally expecting our miracle child. Our shared dream, the one that had held us together through years of heartache, was finally coming true. But then I discovered he was faking amnesia to cheat on me. Heartbroken, I went to the hospital to end the pregnancy we had so desperately wanted. As I lay recovering, his mistress was rushed into the ER, bleeding out. She needed my rare blood type to survive. Blake found me, held me down, and forcibly drew my blood to save her. He called me selfish for hesitating, twisting my pain into a weapon against me. "This is why I don't love you, Eliza," he sneered. "This cold, selfish streak." That was the moment the woman he knew died. Weeks later, at his live-streamed wedding where he begged for my return, I sent him a package. Inside was the aborted embryo of the child he denied, and a recording of him confessing everything.

I was the illegitimate daughter of the Kirk family, treated like a disposable pawn and forced into an engagement with the abusive Cory Travis. At a high-society gala, my half-sister orchestrated a trap, hiring a man to drug my champagne and drag me to Cory's suite, where a hidden camera waited to record my total ruin. I managed to switch the glasses and fight my way out, but the retaliation from my family was brutal. When my father found out I humiliated the Travis heir, he slapped me across the face and locked me in my bedroom. "Then I will break your legs, and I will have you carried to the altar." He froze all my bank accounts, leaving me with absolutely nothing. I tied my bedsheets together and escaped into the night, only to be hunted down by Cory's men and cornered in a pitch-black garage. I pressed my back against the cold brick wall, suffocating under the injustice of it all. Why did my own blood want to destroy me so badly? How could I possibly survive against two powerful dynasties? Just as Cory lunged to tear off my clothes, a sleek black Bentley pulled up, and a man in an impeccably tailored suit stepped out to retrieve me. The man waiting inside the car was Grant Carlisle, a ruthless, legendary billionaire confined to a wheelchair. He didn't save me out of pity; he knew I was a neurosurgery prodigy, and he needed me to fix his crushed legs. Realizing this was my only chance at survival, I looked at the devil in the wheelchair and proposed a deal that would make my family regret the day I was born.

"If I can't have you, no one else can." Primrose wanted to separate from her husband after five years of marriage. Thorne refused, even though he had made a huge mistake. Because Primrose insisted on breaking up and getting close to another man, her husband ended her life in a fit of rage. Primrose, who thought she was dead, was shocked to find herself in an unfamiliar room. Her rescuer offered her a better life. Primrose agreed because the man was Thorne's sworn enemy. In her new life, she wanted to take revenge on those who had made her suffer.

Chloe Beaumont thought she had a perfect life, until she woke up tied to a metal chair in a freezing warehouse. A hitman forced her to watch a live stream of a lavish wedding, where the groom was her fiancé, Braden, and the bride was her beloved stepsister, June. Through the screen, Braden coldly revealed their master plan. He had never loved Chloe; he only wanted her wealth and connections, while June was always his true prize. They had framed Chloe for insider trading to destroy her reputation and steal her company for pennies on the dollar. To add to the ultimate betrayal, June was already pregnant with Braden's child. "Finish her, and make sure it's clean." Braden ordered over the phone, claiming her worthless life was their final wedding gift. As the hitman plunged a knife into her heart, Chloe's despair morphed into pure, all-consuming hatred. How could the two people she trusted most build a perfect life entirely on top of her grave? Why had she been so blindly foolish to dismiss all their lies and coincidences as paranoia? Opening her eyes again, the agonizing pain and the grimy warehouse were completely gone. She was sitting in a luxurious hotel suite, dressed in expensive silk pajamas. It was exactly six years in the past, on the morning of her arranged wedding to the feared billionaire Damian Montgomery. This was the exact day June had tricked her into jilting Damian at the altar to run away with Braden. This time, Chloe smiled coldly, ready to walk down the aisle and drag her betrayers into an ocean of despair.

Talia faked her death to escape a cruel fate of being married off to a powerful, ruthless alpha old enough to be her grandfather. But freedom came at a cost, she has to let go of her name, her body, and everything that made her who she was. Now, hidden beneath a new identity, she enters the most dangerous place for someone like her, an elite academy meant only for the strongest alphas. She's an omega, the lowest rank, disguised as a boy... and pretending to be something she can never become. Living among predators, training beside warriors, and sharing a dorm with a dangerously attractive alpha prince, she knows one mistake could expose her and get her killed. She never planned to fall in love. Especially not with someone who can never know the truth. But secrets have a scent. And wolves always chase what's forbidden. As sparks ignite and enemies close in, how long can she hide what she is? And what happens when the mate bond doesn't care about lies?

I thought my cold marriage to billionaire Ernst Winters was finally thawing after a night of unexpected intimacy. But the next morning, he threw a check in my face, accusing me of drugging his water just to get pregnant. Desperate to prove my innocence, I confronted my adoptive mother, who had been in our room that night. Instead of defending me, she fell to her knees in front of Ernst, crying fake tears. "She did this once before, you know, just to get you to marry her. We can't let Haley stand in the way of your happiness with Keely any longer." Ernst looked at me like I was a monster. I was chased out into the rain, hit by his car, and left to rot in a hospital bed while they threw a lavish welcome party for my cousin Keely's return. Stripped of my marriage and family, I tried to start over by applying to a prestigious design firm. But the interviewer publicly humiliated me, throwing my portfolio on the floor and calling me a cheap plagiarist. When I looked up the genius new designer I supposedly copied, my blood ran cold. It was Keely. She hadn't just orchestrated the end of my marriage; she had stolen my graduation portfolio and claimed my entire life's work as her own. The grief vanished, replaced by a cold, hard fury. My original, hand-drawn sketches were still locked in a storage box in my adoptive mother's attic. It was time to go back and burn their perfect little world to the ground.

I was supposed to be the perfect daughter. Smile at the rich men my mother chose. Quit my job as a trauma nurse when one of them finally decided I was worth marrying. Pretend love did not matter as long as the groom had money, status, and a family name my mother could show off. Then a gunman broke into my hospital. I caught him before he could finish what he came to do, and he took me hostage with a pistol pressed to my head. When he shoved me over the edge of a stairwell, I thought I was going to die. But Alonso came after me. The mysterious military commander with no rank on his uniform and an entire room terrified to breathe around him threw himself down the stairs and wrapped his body around mine, taking the concrete with his own back so I would survive. He was dangerous. Dominant. A Wolf from a world I was never supposed to belong to. I was Wolfless. Ordinary. Nobody. So why did he look at me like I was the only thing he had been searching for? Why did he send white roses to my car? Why did his voice make my body obey before my mind could fight back? And why did he offer me the one escape my family could never control? "Marry me," Alonso said. "I protect what is mine." It was not a normal marriage. It was a Fated Mate Binding Agreement, a supernatural contract that would place me under his Pack's protection and tie my fate to the most dangerous Alpha I had ever met. I should have said no. Instead, I signed. The next morning, I walked into my parents' house, looked my mother in the eye, and calmly said the one thing she could never undo. "I got married yesterday."

On her third wedding anniversary, Alicia was crushed in a horrific multi-car pileup. Trapped in the bloody wreckage, she used her last ounce of strength to call her husband, Julian, for help. The call connected, but instead of his voice, she heard loud music and the clinking of glasses. Julian was at a party, tenderly wishing his mistress, Bianca, a happy birthday. After surviving the night alone in the hospital, Alicia dragged her battered, bleeding body back to their penthouse. She found Bianca wearing her silk robe, sitting at the vanity in her master bedroom. When Julian walked out of the shower, his first reaction wasn't concern for his injured wife. Instead, he looked at her bandaged head with absolute disgust. "What kind of trick are you playing now?" To prove she was faking it for attention, he violently ripped the bandage right off her fresh wound. As blood poured down her face, Julian wrapped his arms around a fake-crying Bianca, calling Alicia an insane, manipulative monster. For three years, she had endured his coldness, her genuine love constantly dismissed as the schemes of a social-climbing liar. She didn't understand how the man she once loved could be so blind, so casually cruel while she was literally bleeding out in front of him. But looking at the two of them standing united against her, the last embers of her love finally turned to ash. She calmly wiped the blood from her face and called her best friend. "I need a divorce lawyer. The best one you can find."

I am the true heiress of the Falcone mafia family. My fiancé, Julian, swore a blood oath to protect me and promised to win my murdered mother's crown for me at the underground auction. But as the auctioneer raised his gavel, Julian bid eleven million dollars—only to place the crown on the head of Chloe, the adopted imposter who stole my life. He publicly stripped me of my succession token just because Chloe shed a few fake tears. When I tried to leave the hall, the three childhood friends I had secretly funded and protected with my life blocked my path. They pushed me down a flight of marble stairs, shattering my knee. When I struggled to stand, they violently wrenched my arm until my shoulder popped from its socket. "Stop playing the sympathy card, Scarlett," they mocked coldly. "You are just faking a theatrical act to steal Julian back." They watched me suffer in agony, completely devoted to Chloe's fragile facade. Even my own father used this humiliation to strip my inheritance and force me into a cheap arranged marriage. I endured the blinding pain of my mangled arm in the dead of night, realizing my years of bleeding for these men meant absolutely nothing. So, I decided to sever the dead weight. I dialed the private number of Dante Vitiello—Julian's deadliest rival in the underworld. "I need a groom in three days," I told him. "In exchange, you get my territory."

I married into the billionaire Carlisle family, not for love, but because my rare genetic markers were the only cure to their dynasty's hidden curse. But my husband, Julian, despised me. He believed I had blackmailed his family to drive away his true love, and in a drunken rage, he shoved my heavily pregnant body down a flight of marble stairs. "Maybe it's for the best. This child should never have existed." He sneered coldly, walking away as I miscarried one of our twins in a pool of blood. Five years later, I secretly raised our surviving daughter and became his ruthless corporate shield. When a massive cheating scandal involving his new mistress threatened the company, I orchestrated a flawless PR miracle to save his empire. In return, I swallowed my pride and begged him for just one hour to attend our daughter's school play. Instead, he mocked my "imaginary child", hit me with his car, and left me bleeding on the concrete floor. Sitting alone in the dark with my bruised knees, I listened to the dial tone after he cruelly threatened to terminate our marriage. I had given him the cure to his bloodline and shielded his legacy, yet he couldn't spare a single ounce of humanity. The last faint ember of hope I held for my daughter's father was completely extinguished. I wiped away my tears, finally ready to tear down the empire I had protected.

I was the lowest Omega of the Silver Moon Pack, treated like dirt and expected to scrub floors while Liam, the new Alpha, prepared for his succession ceremony on my eighteenth birthday. At the stroke of midnight, the fated mate bond suddenly struck us. The future Alpha was my destined mate, but instead of accepting me, he looked at my dirty clothes with pure disgust. He publicly rejected me in front of hundreds of pack members and visiting delegates. "I cannot be tied to a weak, pathetic Omega," he declared, pulling the Beta's daughter close. I was forced to accept the rejection, the snapping bond tearing my soul apart. No one offered help as I convulsed on the floor. I underwent a torturous first shift and was thrown out into the freezing snow like garbage. I thought my life was over, condemned to die alone. But when I looked at my reflection in the frozen pond, I froze. I was a flawless, glowing White Wolf—a legendary bloodline thought to be extinct for centuries. How could a worthless Omega like me possess the sacred power of the Moon Goddess? Before I could process this, a terrifyingly powerful man stepped out of the dark woods. It was Alpha Kael of the ruthless Blood Eclipse Pack, a monster known for wiping out entire bloodlines. He draped his heavy coat over my shivering body, and a new, fiery mate bond instantly ignited in my chest. "Found you," he whispered, his eyes turning pitch black. "My little white wolf."