His Unwanted Mute Wife: Now His Obsession

His Unwanted Mate: The Supreme Alpha's Queen

For five years, I sealed my own wolf and pretended to be a "Wolfless" weakling, all to soothe my Alpha husband's fragile ego. But when his mistress committed a crime, Ignatz commanded me to take the fall. Desperate, I revealed the secret I had been keeping: I was pregnant. I thought it would save me. Instead, he sneered at my stomach. He called our child "biological waste" compared to the "high-born" heir his mistress was carrying. He ordered his guards to drag me to the clinic to "fix the mistake." I managed to escape the needle, only to be hunted down and thrown into a silver mine. The toxic metal didn't kill me, but the agony did something worse. It killed my unborn pup. While I lay bleeding in the dark, Ignatz hosted a grand gala. He publicly rejected me, dissolving our bond to marry his mistress, believing I was dead and gone. He didn't know his mistress was actually carrying a Rogue's bastard. He didn't know he had just murdered a Royal Prince. And he certainly didn't know that the grief had shattered the seal on my powers. The "Wolfless" girl died in that mine. The White Wolf rose in her place. Three days later, I crashed his engagement party. But I didn't come alone. I walked in flanked by the Royal Army and the Supreme Alpha, ready to burn his pack to the ground. Ignatz fell to his knees when he saw my glowing eyes, but I only had one thing to say. "Kneel."

Pampered By The Rival Mafia Boss

Ten years ago, I saved the life of New York’s most dangerous mob boss with a sewing kit. I gave Ethan Reed my youth, my loyalty, and my heart. But the moment his ex-girlfriend Chloe returned, I became disposable. It didn't matter that she had abandoned him. It didn't matter that she poisoned me, killing the unborn child Ethan didn't even know we had. When Chloe needed a kidney transplant due to her drug abuse, Ethan didn't protect me. He strapped me to a gurney. "It's just one kidney, Ava. You owe me." He harvested my organ to save the woman who murdered his heir. And when he was done, he decided I was a loose end. He dragged me to the edge of a bridge in the pouring rain. "This is how it ends," he said, his eyes devoid of love. "A tragic suicide." He pushed me into the freezing water, watching me drown to secure his happy ending. He thought I was dead. He thought the canary had sung its last song. But he forgot one thing. I was the chemist who built his empire. When his greatest rival pulled me out of the river, I didn't pray for salvation. I prayed for revenge. Three months later, I walked into his charity gala on the arm of his enemy, wearing a white suit and a smile sharp enough to cut glass. Ethan dropped to his knees when he saw me. But I wasn't there to forgive him. I was there to burn his house down.

His Unwanted Fiancée Was His True Savior

I was standing in five thousand dollars of hand-stitched lace when I received the medical report. My fiancé, Dante de Rossi, the future Don of Chicago, had gotten another woman pregnant. He didn't apologize. He didn't beg. He looked me in the eye and called it a "strategic necessity." "Isobel saved my life five years ago," he said coldly. "I owe her this child. You will raise it as your own. It is the price of the Peace Treaty." He forced me to cancel our engagement photos so he could take them with her. He took her on the vacation meant for our honeymoon. At dinner, he ordered me the seafood risotto, completely forgetting my deadly shellfish allergy, while fussing over Isobel’s water temperature. When I tried to leave, he cornered me. "You are a mob wife, Nina. Act like one. She is the hero who saved me." I wanted to laugh. Because five years ago, in that alley, Isobel wasn't even there. I was the one in the mask. I was the one who stitched his femoral artery and saved his life, risking my own medical license. He was destroying our twenty-year relationship to pay a debt to a liar. I didn't scream. I didn't fight. I simply picked up a red marker and walked to the calendar. On the day of our wedding, while Dante stood at the altar waiting for his obedient Queen, I was already boarding a one-way flight to the other side of the world. I left him nothing but four words scrawled across the date: "Let's break up, Dante."

His Heart, My Ultimate Betrayal

Everyone in Seattle said my five-year marriage to tech mogul Elias Odonnell was a placeholder. I never believed them. He was the man who would delay a billion-dollar meeting for my food cravings and donate his own rare blood to save my father' s life. The day I discovered I was pregnant, I overheard him on a call with his childhood sweetheart, Juli. "Marrying Gemma was just the only way to get close enough to her father to cure you." My world shattered. He brought Juli into our home, pretending she was my doctor. They tormented me, locking me in a panic room to trigger my deepest fears. Then, during a forced mountain hike, a sudden shove sent me falling from a cliff. I lost our baby. In the hospital, I overheard the real reason he saved my life. It wasn't for me, but to keep my father emotionally stable so his "liver tissue quality" wouldn't be compromised before the harvest. He called our dead child "a complication I've now been spared from dealing with." With nothing left to lose, I found an unlikely ally in my father's surgeon, a man who owed my dad his career. He came to my room and whispered, "We'll stage a fake surgery. While everyone is distracted, I'll get you and your father out of here."

Love's Betrayal: The Unseen Daughter

As a ghost, I watched my parents arrive at my crime scene. My mother, a renowned surgeon, and my father, the District Attorney, were there to consult on the brutal murder of an unidentified young woman. That young woman was me. But they didn't know. To them, I was just Jane Doe, a messy case and an inconvenient headline. My mother examined my broken body with chilling detachment, her analysis of the torture wounds purely clinical. My father arrived, complaining about the political fallout and the bad press. Standing just feet from my corpse, they discussed their "missing" daughter-me. "She's just being dramatic," my father scoffed. "Probably shacked up with some loser to get back at us." They were more worried about my adopted brother, the golden boy Javon, and his upcoming championship game. I was the family's problem in life, and it seemed I was an even bigger problem in death. The irony was a physical weight. They were talking about me, their lost daughter, while my body lay decomposing at their feet. They were blind, wrapped up in their perfect lives and their love for the son who orchestrated my end. But they would find out. The killer made one mistake. He forced me to swallow a tiny pet microchip, a clue registered in my name. A piece of evidence that would not only give me back my identity but would expose the monster they called a son and burn their perfect world to the ground.

Fated Love, Unwritten Endings

For three years, I paid millions to have Caleb Mitchell as my boyfriend. I funded his sister's experimental cancer treatment, and in return, the brilliant, proud student played the part of my loving companion. He resented being bought, but I was foolish enough to fall in love with him. That foolishness ended two months ago, after a fall from a horse left me with a concussion. I woke up with the horrifying knowledge that my entire life was a lie—I was just the villainess in a novel, a footnote in a story about him. In this story, Caleb was the hero, destined to reunite with his true love, Frances. I was the obstacle he had to overcome. My pre-written fate was to go mad with jealousy, try to destroy them, and end up ruined and dead. I thought it was a hallucination until the plot began to unfold. The final proof was the vintage watch I spent months restoring for his birthday. A week later, he gave it to Frances, telling her it was just some old trinket he'd found. According to the script, seeing that watch on her wrist was supposed to make me fly into a hysterical rage, sealing my tragic fate. But I refuse to follow their story. If the villainess is destined for a tragic end, then this villainess will simply disappear from the book altogether. I slid a black credit card across the polished desk. "I want to be declared dead," I told the man who specialized in new beginnings. "Lost at sea. No body."

After Divorce: My Arrogant Ex Regrets Calling Me Trash

Aurora woke up to the sterile chill of her king-sized bed in Sterling Thorne's penthouse. Today was the day her husband would finally throw her out like garbage. Sterling walked in, tossed divorce papers at her, and demanded her signature, eager to announce his "eligible bachelor" status to the world. In her past life, the sight of those papers had broken her, leaving her begging for a second chance. Sterling's sneering voice, calling her a "trailer park girl" undeserving of his name, had once cut deeper than any blade. He had always used her humble beginnings to keep her small, to make her grateful for the crumbs of his attention. She had lived a gilded cage, believing she was nothing without him, until her life flatlined in a hospital bed, watching him give a press conference about his "grief." But this time, she felt no sting, no tears. Only a cold, clear understanding of the mediocre man who stood on a pedestal she had painstakingly built with her own genius. Aurora signed the papers, her name a declaration of independence. She grabbed her old, phoenix-stickered laptop, ready to walk out. Sterling Thorne was about to find out exactly how expensive "free" could be.

Love's Sweetest Surprise: From Brokenhearted To Billionaire's Wife

For five years, I believed I was living in a perfect marriage, only to discover it was all a sham! I discovered that my husband was coveting my bone marrow for his mistress! Right in front of me, he sent her flirtatious messages. To make matters worse, he even brought her into the company to steal my work! I finally understood, he never loved me. I stopped pretending, collected evidence of his infidelity, and reclaimed the research he had stolen from me. I signed the divorce papers and left without looking back. He thought I was just throwing a tantrum and would eventually return. But when we met again, I was holding the hand of a globally renowned tycoon, draped in a wedding dress and grinning with confidence. My ex-husband's eyes were red with regret. "Come back to me!" But my new groom wrapped his arm around my waist, and chuckled dismissively, "Get the hell out of here! She's mine now."

HIS DOE, HIS DAMNATION(An Erotic Billionaire Romance)

Trigger/Content Warning: This story contains mature themes and explicit content intended for adult audiences(18+). Reader discretion is advised. It includes elements such as BDSM dynamics, explicit sexual content, toxic family relationships, occasional violence and strong language. This is not a fluffy romance. It is intense, raw and messy, and explores the darker side of desire. ***** "Take off your dress, Meadow." "Why?" "Because your ex is watching," he said, leaning back into his seat. "And I want him to see what he lost." ••••*••••*••••* Meadow Russell was supposed to get married to the love of her life in Vegas. Instead, she walked in on her twin sister riding her fiance. One drink at the bar turned to ten. One drunken mistake turned into reality. And one stranger's offer turned into a contract that she signed with shaking hands and a diamond ring. Alaric Ashford is the devil in a tailored Tom Ford suit. Billionaire CEO, brutal, possessive. A man born into an empire of blood and steel. He also suffers from a neurological condition-he can't feel. Not objects, not pain, not even human touch. Until Meadow touches him, and he feels everything. And now he owns her. On paper and in his bed. She wants him to ruin her. Take what no one else could have. He wants control, obedience... revenge. But what starts as a transaction slowly turns into something Meadow never saw coming. Obsession, secrets that were never meant to surface, and a pain from the past that threatens to break everything. Alaric doesn't share what's his. Not his company. Not his wife. And definitely not his vengeance.

Rising From Ashes: The Heiress They Tried To Erase

Maia grew up a pampered heiress-until the real daughter returned and framed her, sending Maia to prison with help from her fiancé and family. Four years later, free and married to Chris, a notorious outcast, everyone assumed Maia was finished. They soon discovered she was secretly a famed jeweler, elite hacker, celebrity chef, and top game designer. As her former family begged for help, Chris smiled calmly. "Honey, let's go home." Only then did Maia realize her "useless" husband was a legendary tycoon who'd adored her from the start.

Rejected by the Son, I Chose the Don

On my wedding day, my father sold me to the Chicago Outfit to pay his debts. I was supposed to marry Alex Moreno, the heir to the city's most powerful crime family. But he couldn't even be bothered to show up. As I stood alone at the altar, humiliated, my best friend delivered the final blow. Alex hadn't just stood me up; he had run off to California with his mistress. The whispers in the cathedral turned me into a joke. I was damaged goods, the rejected bride. His family knew the whole time and let me take the public fall, offering me his cousins as pathetic replacements-a brute who hated me or a coward who couldn't protect me. The humiliation burned away my fear, leaving only cold rage. My life was already over, so I decided to set the whole game on fire myself. The marriage pact only said a Carlson had to marry a Moreno; it never said which one. With nothing left to lose, I looked past the pathetic boys they offered. I chose the one man they never expected. I chose his father, the Don himself.

The Convict Heiress: Marrying The Billionaire

The heavy thud of the release stamp was the only goodbye I got from the warden after five years in federal prison. I stepped out into the blinding sun, expecting the same flash of paparazzi bulbs that had seen me dragged away in handcuffs, but there was only a single black limousine idling on the shoulder of the road. Inside sat my mother and sister, clutching champagne and looking at my frayed coat with pure disgust. They didn't offer a welcome home; instead, they tossed a thick legal document onto the table and told me I was dead to the city. "Gavin and I are getting engaged," my sister Mia sneered, flicking a credit card at me like I was a stray dog. "He doesn't need a convict ex-fiancée hanging around." Even after I saved their lives from an armed kidnapping attempt by ramming the attackers off the road, they rewarded me by leaving me stranded in the dirt. When I finally ran into Gavin, the man who had framed me, he pinned me against a wall and threatened to send me back to a cell if I ever dared to show my face at their wedding. They had stolen my biotech research, ruined my name, and let me rot for half a decade while they lived off my brilliance. They thought they had broken me, leaving me with nothing but an expired chapstick and a few old photos in a plastic bag. What they didn't know was that I had spent those five years becoming "Dr. X," a shadow consultant with five hundred million dollars in crypto and a secret that would bring the city to its knees. I wasn't just a victim anymore; I was a weapon, and I was pregnant with the heir they thought they had erased. I walked into the Melton estate and made an offer to the most powerful man in New York. "I'll save your grandfather's life," I told Horatio Melton, staring him down. "But the price is your last name. I'm taking back what's mine, and I'm starting with the man who thinks he's marrying my sister."