All works

Elise thought her life was finally falling into place. She turned down her father's company to work as executive assistant to Marcus Grey-the boy she's loved since childhood, now the powerful CEO she's devoted her life to. But when Marcus proposes to another woman, Elise's world crumbles. Enter Sebastian Deluca-Marcus's tattooed, ruthless, long-estranged brother. He's everything Marcus isn't: dangerous, magnetic, and determined to take back his place in New York. But, there's something odd about him. Something changed since he arrived. Bound by family secrets and a mutual desire to expose Marcus's fiancée, Elise and Sebastian form an uneasy alliance. But as sparks ignite between them, Elise must choose: remain loyal to the boy she thought she loved, or risk everything for the man who sees her as more than a shadow. Some loves are safe. Others are consuming. Which one will she survive?

Daisy spent her birthday cooking a perfect dinner, waiting in their massive penthouse for her billionaire husband, Emmett. Instead of coming home, a breaking news alert flashed on her screen: Emmett was at the hospital, protectively shielding his old flame, Eryn. When Daisy rushed to the VIP ward, Emmett physically blocked her to comfort a crying Eryn, completely forgetting it was his wife's birthday. Heartbroken, Daisy demanded a divorce and fled. In response, Emmett ruthlessly froze all her bank accounts and trust funds, leaving her penniless in the freezing Manhattan rain. When she cornered him with divorce papers at a public funeral, a heavy metal cart slammed into her, tearing her calf wide open. Bleeding onto the marble floor, she begged him to sign. Instead, Emmett violently ripped the bloody papers to shreds. "Unless I am dead, you are my wife," he snarled, locking her inside a room. Daisy risked her life to escape through a window, dragging her bleeding leg to a dingy motel. But the real nightmare began when Eryn called. The tragic car crash that killed Daisy's adoptive parents ten years ago wasn't an accident—the brake lines were cut. And Emmett, the man she loved, had been using his vast corporate empire to protect the murderers all along. Why did Emmett bury the police report? What was the deadly secret behind her true identity and the antique "Venus" necklace? Staring at her blood-stained hands in the cracked mirror, the terrified wife died. Daisy grabbed her coat and limped out into the dark, heading straight for the Navy Yard to burn his empire to the ground.

Kelsi Owens stood in front of the mirror in a six-figure gown, ready to marry into the wealthy Harrington family. But her fiancé, Jeb, didn't even look at her. He abandoned her right in the middle of the fitting because his widowed sister-in-law, Seraphina, called crying. That same night, Kelsi collapsed on her apartment floor with a ruptured appendix. Sweating and in blinding agony, she called Jeb for help. Instead of concern, she heard Seraphina laughing and party music blaring in the background. Jeb just snapped at her. "Stop being dramatic. Seraphina is the guest of honor tonight. I can't leave." He hung up, leaving her to call her own ambulance. Kelsi woke up from emergency surgery completely alone, only to receive a cold text from Jeb calling her fragile. To make matters worse, her toxic adoptive family didn't care that she almost died. They demanded she crawl back and apologize to Jeb just so they could keep leeching off her connections and trust fund. Lying in that cold hospital bed, the illusion finally shattered. For three years, she had always been the one left waiting. She realized she meant absolutely nothing to the people she loved. Kelsi didn't cry, and she didn't beg. She calmly texted Jeb to call off the engagement, blocked his number, and cut ties with her greedy relatives forever. She was finally walking away. What she didn't know was that the city's most ruthless billionaire had been watching her, and he was already weaving a golden net to claim her for himself.

After an exhausting fourteen-hour flight, Katia returned to her Upper East Side penthouse, expecting the quiet comfort of the life she had built. Instead, she found a pair of familiar red stilettos in the foyer and her fiancé, Caleb, tangled in their bedsheets with his twenty-two-year-old assistant. She didn't scream or cry. She simply took off her three-carat engagement ring, threw it at his bare chest, and demanded he buy out her half of the penthouse by Friday. Seeking to numb the sickening disgust, she got blackout drunk and crashed at a luxury hotel, accidentally stumbling into the wrong suite. Thinking the imposing man inside was a high-end escort hired by her friend, she threw him over her shoulder and spent a wild night with him. The next morning, she left five thousand dollars on his nightstand with a lipstick-stained note. "Good Job." For six years, she had funded Caleb's dreams and built his startup from the ground up, only to be treated like a lifeless ATM. With ruthless precision, she spent the next two months systematically bankrupting his company, cutting off his venture capital, and erasing his life's work. She felt no heartbreak, only a cold, calculating need to cleanse herself of his betrayal. But when Katia finally returned to corporate headquarters to co-lead a massive merger, she literally crashed into the new Vice President. Strong arms caught her waist, and the sharp scent of cedarwood and whiskey hit her like a freight train. "You came back," Jackson whispered, his eyes burning as he stared at the woman who had treated him like a cheap gigolo.

I opened my eyes to a tearing pain and an unfamiliar ceiling, lying next to the most powerful man in the capital. Foreign memories crashed into my mind. I had transmigrated into the body of Irena Frost, a woman who had just drugged and trapped the cold, ruthless heir Evertt Barton into a scandalous marriage. The original owner did it to escape being sold to a murderous old merchant by her own cruel father. But Evertt didn't know that. When he woke up, his eyes were full of absolute disgust. He threw a prenuptial agreement at my face, demanding a quiet divorce in two years and warning me not to use a pregnancy to blackmail his family. Everyone in the estate treated me like a greedy, pathetic joke, just waiting for the day I would be thrown out onto the streets. The original Irena had died in despair, terrified and hated by the man she chose as her only shield. I felt a deep ache for the girl who had to ruin her own reputation just to survive. I absolutely refused to let this second chance be dictated by a man who despised me. I looked right into Evertt's icy eyes and demanded an astronomical divorce settlement to play his perfect wife. "Deal. I consider it a job." With millions wired to my account and a magical spatial ring from my past life suddenly awakening on my finger, I stopped crying. I was going to use his money to build a massive commercial empire in secret, and when the two years were up, I would leave without looking back.

Liora never belonged anywhere. Born out of wedlock, she was neglected, left to fend for herself, whilst her real family lived in luxury. Love was only for a short time, survival was the top priority, and people would never choose her. Forced into the streets, she dances for strangers...who need her, just for one night. Then Darius came into her club, two days before his marriage. The all-powerful and irresistibly sexy billionaire wanted just one more day of freedom before he said "I do". One night with Liora was supposed to be a fleeting one - a secret before the dawn. Until she finds out the bride waiting at the altar, was her sister she never got to meet, Selene. A forbidden one-night-stand turns into a deadly web of lies, betrayal, and desire. But when Liora discovers she is carrying Darius's child, the secret that could destroy a whole family must come to light. Some errors don't go away after a single night... Some passions never die, and some passions never die.

I was tied to a concrete pillar in an abandoned warehouse, the heavy stench of gasoline suffocating me. Ten steps away, a masked kidnapper slammed a loaded Glock onto a metal barrel and forced my husband, Alvie, to make a sick choice. "The wife or the mistress. You only get to walk out of here with one." Alvie didn't even blink. He walked straight toward the dark corner where his mistress, Gail, was crying. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, shielding her, and guided her toward the exit. He never looked back. He didn't cast a single glance over his shoulder. To him, I was already a corpse, just trash left on the pavement. The kidnapper laughed and tossed a lighter onto the soaked concrete floor. A wall of ghostly blue fire erupted instantly, swallowing me whole. The absolute agony of my skin blistering and melting shattered my sanity. In my last moments, consumed by the inferno, I couldn't understand how the man I had loved and served so submissively could leave me to burn alive. My heartbreak quickly morphed into a hatred far deeper than the flames. Then, I violently jerked awake. I shot up from the bed, gasping for cold air, my hands frantically checking my perfectly smooth, unburned skin. I looked at the desk clock. I had returned to exactly four years ago, the morning of the annual Gallagher family gathering. The fragile, naive wife died in that warehouse. This time, I am going to destroy them both.

I just lost my baby in a freezing underground clinic, my reproductive vitality permanently destroyed. Meanwhile, my fated mate, the supreme Alpha Gerard, was on the news shielding Demetra—the woman who stole my identity as his savior. He then used his absolute Alpha Command to force my hemorrhaging body to attend a family banquet. "If you dare embarrass the family by skipping, your family's workshop shuts down tomorrow." At the estate, his relatives humiliated me, forcing me to sit on a servant's stool. When Demetra faked a pregnancy scare over the phone, Gerard entirely lost his mind. He kicked me out of his car on a desolate mountain cliff in the middle of a raging thunderstorm. I walked ten kilometers barefoot, my fresh surgical wounds bleeding into the mud, while he rushed to the city to comfort a liar. I nearly died in that wilderness, mourning the real pup he didn't even know we lost. For two years, I endured his cruelty, hoping he would realize I was the one who dragged him from that silver-laced fire five years ago. But my devotion was nothing but a pathetic joke to him. I finally woke up from my delusion. I drafted the mate-contract dissolution papers, signed my name, and walked out of his territory forever.

To save my bankrupt family, I endured a loveless contract marriage with billionaire Hale Montgomery for three years, playing the flawless, devoted wife. But on our third anniversary, he forced me to drink a spiked glass of whiskey, only to abandon me in a violent storm the moment his childhood sweetheart called. Driving away in despair, my car was completely crushed by a heavy truck on the highway. When I woke up in the ICU with severe brain trauma, Hale didn't show a shred of pity. Instead, he stood beside his fake, crying sweetheart and threw a divorce agreement at my hospital bed. He coldly threatened to auction off my family's last assets if I didn't sign and make way for his true love immediately. For ten years I had loved him in secret, even giving up my identity as the legendary podcast voice who had saved him from his darkest PTSD. Yet, he treated me like disposable trash just to protect a cheap, manipulative imitator. Surviving the crash, the pathetic devotion in my heart completely died. I looked at his arrogant face and smiled calmly. "I'll sign it, but I want one hundred million dollars in cash." Taking his money, I exposed his "impotence" in front of his furious grandfather, walked right out the door, and headed to Hollywood to reclaim my throne.

Black Haven College, humans and werewolves share classrooms, but they never cross the line. The rules of engagement are clear: two worlds, one campus, zero overlap. Twenty-year-old Viella Dale enters her penultimate year at Black Haven with a shattered heart. Dumped by her boyfriend right before classes resume, all she wants is to blend into the background, survive her courses, and mend her broken spirit in peace. Then she crosses paths with Kaelan Vance. As a final-year student and the formidable Alpha of the Shadowbane Pack, Kaelan commands absolute authority. Fierce, dangerously handsome, and possessing an aura that demands submission, he has spent years waiting to catch the scent of his fated mate-only to come up empty. He believed the moon goddess had forgotten him, until a chance encounter on campus brings him face-to-face with Viella. One breath of her scent changes everything. The bond is undeniable, magnetic, and completely forbidden. Kaelan has found his Luna, but she's human-a total violation of pack law. Surrendering to the pull means risking a bloody uprising from his own wolves. But the real danger isn't just pack law; it's Viella's bloodline. Unknown to Kaelan, Viella is the daughter of the city's most ruthless werewolf hunter, a man who has devoted his life to exterminating Kaelan's kind. As Viella is pulled out of her heartbreak and into a world of alpha dominance and deadly secrets, she finds herself caught between the father who raised her and the predator who claims her soul. Can an Alpha wolf and a hunter's daughter defy every law of survival, or will the blood on their hands destroy their fated match?

For five years, Genevra hid her identity as the legendary programmer "Aro" to be Bryce Crosby's dutiful, secret wife. When she was pinned in a crushed car on a rainy overpass, bleeding heavily, she called her husband for help. But Bryce just told her to stop making a scene and hung up to comfort his mistress, Aryanna, who was complaining about a sprained ankle. Dragging her blood-soaked body to the hospital, Genevra found Bryce tenderly guarding Aryanna—the very woman who had recklessly rammed her car. When Genevra collapsed in a pool of her own blood from a miscarriage, Bryce stepped back in disgust. "Playing the victim again? Resorting to tricks like this just to compete for my attention turns my stomach." His wealthy family didn't care about her dead baby. They only cared about the family trust, secretly planning to lock her in a psychiatric ward so Aryanna could take her place. To Bryce, she was just a pathetic secretary from a declining family who would never dare to leave him. He even sued her for five million dollars in breach-of-contract damages when she finally walked away. He didn't know she had already logged back into the global tech network to reclaim her true identity. Genevra put on a sharp suit, walked into his top-floor boardroom with her bodyguards, and slammed the lawsuit right back onto his desk.

I was the Stanton family heiress, engaged to the President's son to secure a vital military alliance. But he cornered me in the White House sitting room, slamming a thick manila folder onto the marble table. "I said, sign the annulment agreement, Hester." He looked at me like I was dirt, demanding I step aside so he could be with a manipulative intern named Tricia. In my past life, I was a naive lamb. I cried and begged him not to end it. My devotion was rewarded with absolute cruelty. He ordered my bones broken and my reputation completely shredded. My trusted assistant forced poison down my throat, and I was left to die with a rope burning my neck. Until my last breath, I didn't understand. I had done everything perfectly for the family. Why did my unwavering loyalty only bring me a gruesome death? Why did the monsters who tortured me get to live happily in the highest seats of power? Opening my eyes again, the suffocating terror of the noose suddenly washed away. I was sixteen again, staring at the exact same annulment papers. "Hester, please. Just let us be happy," Tricia whimpered, reaching out her trembling hand. This time, I didn't cry. I picked up the solid gold fountain pen, stabbed it violently through the center of the contract, and prepared to drag the entire First Family straight to hell.

She was sold as a broodmare. He was a warrior with no memory. Together, they'll burn down the world. Lyra has been called many things: half-blood, mongrel, dirty blood. Rejected by every pack she's approached, she's given one final chance-as a bride to Ronan, the cruel Alpha of Red River Pack. But when her wedding night becomes a nightmare, she stabs her new husband and flees into the frozen wilderness. Stellan remembers nothing. Not his name, not his past, not the ancient tattoos covering his body. He only knows that when he sees a terrified woman falling from a cliff into an icy river, he must save her-even if it kills him. On the run from a vengeful Alpha and his army of hunters, Lyra and Stellan discover an impossible bond growing between them. The moon has chosen them as mates. But Stellan's memories are returning, and with them, a devastating truth: he's not just any wolf. He's the Alpha of the North Star Pack. And a half-blood can never be his Luna. Now Ronan's brother has sworn revenge, an ancient prophecy awakens, and three packs prepare for war. Lyra must prove that bloodlines mean nothing-and that the most powerful bond of all is forged in ice and fire. He lost his memory. She lost her freedom. Together, they'll find everything.

I was just an underpaid junior designer trying to survive the ruthless world of professional hockey. But after catching my boyfriend with his hands up my best friend's designer skirt in a filthy alley, I got blackout drunk and stumbled into the wrong armored SUV. I woke up pinned beneath Kurt Duran—the terrifying, untouchable captain of the New York franchise and the absolute ruler of the sports empire that paid my salary. Terrified of being branded a desperate gold-digger, I ran. I swallowed a Plan B pill, dumped my cheating ex, and worked myself to the bone to earn the prestigious Milan Design Summit nomination. But my jealous coworkers couldn't stand a nobody winning. They hacked my terminal and planted stolen competitor files on my workstation, framing me for federal corporate espionage. My director suspended me on the spot. Security guards began sweeping my life's work into a plastic evidence bin, while my colleagues sneered that I was heading straight to a federal penitentiary. I clenched my bleeding palms, suffocating under the sheer injustice. I had survived poverty, a cheating ex, and grueling sleepless nights just to prove my worth. Why was my entire career being destroyed over a manufactured lie? "Hand over your badge and your digital keys," my director barked. I refused to shed a single tear for those hyenas. Suddenly, the frosted glass doors were kicked open with a thunderous crash. Kurt Duran strode into the room flanked by five elite litigation partners, his murderous blue eyes locked directly on me, ready to burn the entire building to the ground.

For five years, April Gamble loved Julian Travis with everything she had, trusting him completely. But on a stormy night, he casually tossed a liquidation agreement at her feet, single-handedly destroying her grandfather's company. He coldly admitted he only dated her to steal Vance Group's internal financial data. "You were convenient," Julian said, swirling his whiskey without a shred of guilt. Before April could even process the brutal betrayal, a breaking news alert lit up her phone. She watched in absolute horror as her grandfather jumped from the ledge of the Vance Tower on live television. Julian looked at her writhing, screaming form with utter boredom and simply ordered his bodyguard to throw her out. Blinded by grief and tears, April sped into the torrential rain, only to be completely crushed by a hydroplaning transport truck at an intersection. As the shattered glass tore into her skin and the metal crushed her ribs, she died with a hatred so pure it made her teeth ache. Why did five years of devotion mean absolutely nothing to him? Why did her family have to die just to feed his ruthless greed? When she opened her eyes again, the harsh hospital lights blinded her, but the familiar burn scar on her arm was gone. She wasn't the betrayed financial analyst April Gamble anymore. She had woken up in the body of Altagracia Blanchard, the most notorious, obscenely wealthy heiress in New York. Julian had taken everything from her, but now, armed with a billionaire's empire, she was going to bury him.

Alena landed at JFK, eager to call her fiancé of three years. But a sudden message from her best friend shattered her world: a high-resolution photo of Darrin passionately kissing another woman. The woman was Katrina, her older sister. Alena rushed to the grand ballroom and confronted them in front of New York's elite. Instead of an apology, her own mother slapped her across the face. "You jealous, spiteful girl. Trying to ruin your sister's happiness because you can't handle your own failures." Darrin coldly wrapped a protective arm around Katrina. The nightmare worsened when they ambushed Alena at her apartment, demanding she sign an NDA to cover up the affair and save their family's failing business. If she refused, her father threatened to tell her frail grandfather the truth, knowing the shock would trigger a fatal heart attack. Alena was suffocated by the sheer magnitude of the betrayal. Her family was weaponizing the only person who truly loved her, treating her like a disposable pawn to protect the sister who stole her life. How could her own flesh and blood be so sickeningly cruel? Cornered and entirely out of options, Alena pulled a matte-black business card from her pocket. It belonged to Andrew Spencer, the ruthless billionaire who had rescued her from the freezing rain, and the apex predator Darrin feared most. He had offered her a transactional marriage. If her family wanted to destroy her, she would become their worst nightmare. She picked up her phone and dialed his number.

I was engaged to Gorden Barron, fully believing I was about to marry the love of my life. Then his secret lover, Bettye, was diagnosed with aplastic anemia. Gorden fell to his knees and begged me to be her bone marrow donor. "Angie, I know I messed up, but she's dying. You're the only match." I agreed, wanting to be the bigger person. But the moment the harvest was over, the nightmare began. A severe infection set in, and my fever wouldn't break. Gorden's visits became shorter, then stopped entirely. As I lay in the sterile hospital room, my bones aching and my body failing, I scrolled through my phone and saw his latest post. Gorden and Bettye were tanned and healthy, sipping cocktails on a yacht in the Mediterranean. The caption read: "Grateful for second chances. My true love." I threw my phone across the room and screamed until my throat bled. I was nothing but a human blood bag to them, completely discarded the moment I was empty. I nearly died in that cold room, saved only by a top-tier specialist someone secretly paid millions to fly in. Five years later, I've finally returned to New York. I didn't come back to get revenge on Gorden. He isn't worth my time. I came back for the man who secretly held my hand and wept by my deathbed—Gorden's cold, untouchable older brother, Dalton. This time, I'm going to make him mine.

Lukas Reiner built his life based off a promise 9 years ago with Viktor Volkov... the only person who actually saw him and knew him for what he actually was. They dreamed of the same future, the same ice, the same victory together. Until Viktor disappeared without a word, leaving Lukas behind with nothing but silence, rain... and feelings he never got to confess. Now, Lukas is at the top of college... Captain, prodigy and untouchable on ice until Viktor comes back. Colder and older, acting like the past never existed. Their reunion explodes into violence, but being forced to work together drags them into something far more dangerous than hate. The tension turns into stolen moments and those moments turn into a habit but before either of them can stop it, the line between resentment and desire begins to blur. Lukas never let go of the past. Viktor never planned to face it. But on the ice, there's nowhere left to run.

Serena would do anything to uncover the death of her parents, including sleeping with the most dangerous man in New York, Nero DeLuca. And he knows this, so he strings her along so he can see how far she's willing to go. *** "Get on your knees," Nero said, "You're my submissive, and you exist for the sole purpose of my pleasure. I don't tolerate defiance. When I say get on your knees, you get on your knees." "Yes," I replied as I got on my knees, hating how much his commanding tone turned me on. He put his finger under my chin and lifted it so I could look at him. "Yes, what?" "Yes, sir." "Good girl. Now get on the bed and show me that beautiful cunt. I want to see what it looks like before I destroy it with mine. Tonight, the whole of New York will know you belong to me. I'll not take anything less than you screaming my name, and by the time I'm done with you, you'll feel me between your legs for a week."

Alondra spent three hours making soup for her husband, only to find him at the hospital tenderly holding another woman's hand. "I'm four weeks pregnant, Gerard," the woman said softly. Gerard coldly handed Alondra a divorce agreement, claiming their three-year marriage was just a placeholder because this woman had once saved his life. Heartbroken, Alondra fled in her car, only to realize her brakes had been completely disabled. She spun out of control and crashed head-on into a massive delivery truck. As she lay trapped in the mangled wreckage with her ribs crushed and blood filling her mouth, Gerard's black Maybach pulled up to the curb. He stared at her dying body through the window with a completely blank expression. He didn't call an ambulance or even open his door. He simply rolled up his tinted window and drove away into the rain. A raw, suffocating hatred burned in her chest, hotter than the pain in her shattered bones. She couldn't understand how the man she had loved and served so devotedly could just coldly watch her die like a piece of trash. Opening her eyes again, Alondra gasped for air. She had returned to the exact morning two years ago, right before she was supposed to deliver that pathetic soup. When Gerard walked in and threatened her with divorce, she didn't cry or beg. "I agree. Let's divorce," she said calmly, packing her bags to reclaim her true identity as a billionaire heiress.