S**y Ass Detective and Me

The Rogue Alpha's Possession

"You can't kill me, Princess." He smirked. "You can't, because I won't let you and deep down, you don't want to. " I wanted nothing more than to wipe that stupid smirk from his stupidly gorgeous face. "Oh, I can and I will. Don't test me, Rogue," I growled, pushing my knife harder into his chest. He leaned even closer, and my heartbeat raced at the scent of him. "You won't because you are my mate." *** Her Highness Amber Rousseaux is a princess by day, and a rogue hunter by night. She lives for her pack, and that means eliminating it from the plague of rogues. But when she stumbles upon Drew Bronimir, the Alpha of the Rogues, who just happens to be her mate, she's faced with the impossible question: fate and desire, or her duty?

The CEO's Little Stripteuse

Take it off slowly, inch closer, tease and make 'em believe you're all theirs--Make it perfectly estatic. Abigail's code was as simple as they come, and had worked impeccably for years with her one and only rule: No touching. But when she pisses off a snob who didn't like it very much, it was up to a certain billionaire to save her from his covetous hands. Except, he isn't quite ready to let her go just yet.

Her Missing Pieces, The Alpha's Treasure

Does life have to be so complicated?  Zoey didn't think so, that is, until she receives a certain letter. When Zoey initiated her first shift on her 18th birthday, her life took a bizarre turn for what seemed like the better and the worst. She learnt something about herself that had been dangling over her head all her life, but she never understood until that moment. She vowed to learn the whole truth but she couldn't do it all alone, which left her at a dead end once again. Coincidentally not long after, she learns that her mate was the Alpha of the Truemoon Pack who automatically took a promiscuous adoration towards her. Niall helps his lost mate through all possible challenges and mountains, just so she could find those missing fragments about herself and be happy. But when she finds out the truth, will she be?

Rejected by my Bestfriend, Accepted by the Badboy

Four years ago, a 13 year old blackmailed me into friendship by holding my doughnut captive. We've been close ever since. But then, I noticed that I wanted to be more than just friends. I was in love with my best friend. Sadly, he didn't feel the same way. I thought my world was over. I was crushed. But to my utmost yet most delighted surprise, I just happened to fall into the arms of a certain bad-boy. Literally. He didn't just save me from what could've been a hell of a concussion that night. He saved my heart too. But hey, let's not get in over our heads now. It wasn't that easy. Not even close. After all, when two opposing worlds clash for the very first time, we cant just expect it to be all rainbows and sunshine. Now do we?

Being The Billionaire's Captive

One mansion on the coast. One man. One woman. And something she thought could have never been. And it all started with what some might say was an ill-fated kidnapping. Every villain has a story; and his? Well, it captured her heart.

Undercover Wolf

My name is Roxy Gilbert and I'm apart of The Silent Moon Pack. When I was two years old, we were attacked by a stronger and more powerful pack. They took our home, our people, our land and our dignity... And I'm getting it back. *** Roxy and her twin brother, Aiden, have been training their whole lives to go undercover as spies in the pack that overthrew them. Their aim is to figure out the pack's weak spots, get enough information as possible about them, and attack when they least expect it. What Roxy doesn't know is that her mate was the new Alpha of that very pack, which leaves her torn between betraying her pack or her mate. Who will she choose? Let the tests of trust, love and loyalty begin....

Secret Triplets: The Billionaire's Second Chance

I stood at my mother's open grave in the freezing rain, my heels sinking into the mud. The space beside me was empty. My husband, Hilliard Holloway, had promised to cherish me in bad times, but apparently, burying my mother didn't fit into his busy schedule. While the priest's voice droned on, a news alert lit up my phone. It was a livestream of the Metropolitan Charity Gala. There was Hilliard, looking impeccable in a custom tuxedo, with his ex-girlfriend Charla English draped over his arm. The headline read: "Holloway & English: A Power Couple Reunited?" When he finally returned to our penthouse at 2 AM, he didn't come alone-he brought Charla with him. He claimed she'd had a "medical emergency" at the gala and couldn't be left alone. I found a Tiffany diamond necklace on our coffee table meant for her birthday, and a smudge of her signature red lipstick on his collar. When I confronted him, he simply told me to stop being "hysterical" and "acting like a child." He had no idea I was seven months pregnant with his child. He thought so little of my grief that he didn't even bother to craft a convincing lie, laughing with his mistress in our home while I sat in the dark with a shattered heart and a secret life growing inside me. "He doesn't deserve us," I whispered to the darkness. I didn't scream or beg. I simply left a folder on his desk containing signed divorce papers and a forged medical report for a terminated pregnancy. I disappeared into the night, letting him believe he had successfully killed his own legacy through his neglect. Five years later, Hilliard walked into "The Vault," the city's most exclusive underground auction, looking for a broker to manage his estate. He didn't recognize me behind my Venetian mask, but he couldn't ignore the neon pink graffiti on his armored Maybach that read "DEADBEAT." He had no clue that the three brilliant triplets currently hacking his security system were the very children he thought had been erased years ago. This time, I wasn't just a wife in the way; I was the one holding all the cards.

The Silent Bride's Billion Dollar Contract

My bank account showed exactly $42.18, and my student loan notifications were flashing red. I lived in a sweltering Queens apartment with my Aunt Lydia, where the air was thick with the smell of stale frying oil and the constant threat of being homeless. Lydia handed me a grainy photo of a man twice my age and told me she had already "sold" me to him. He was a dry cleaner looking for a wife, and in exchange for my hand, he would pay off her credit cards and my debt. If I didn't show up for the date that night, my boxes would be on the curb by midnight. I arrived at the cafe in a state of panic, my selective mutism making it impossible to even breathe. In the crowded room, I accidentally sat at the wrong table. Instead of the man from the photo, I found myself facing Gerhard Holcomb—the cold, terrifyingly handsome billionaire whose family owned the very museum where I worked. He didn't send me away; instead, he studied my trembling hands and offered me a different deal: a two-year contract marriage, a two-million-dollar payout, and a strict clause forbidding any children. I signed the papers and moved into his Park Avenue penthouse, thinking I was finally safe. But when I went back to the old apartment to retrieve the only memento of my dead parents, Lydia lashed out, leaving me bleeding from a head wound. Gerhard’s retaliation was absolute—he had her arrested and her building foreclosed on within hours, claiming he was simply "protecting his assets." As I recovered in his silent, glass-walled home, I saw a call from a famous socialite flash on his phone, and a cold truth settled in my gut. I wasn't just a wife; I was a placeholder, a silent shield used to fend off the women from his past. I looked at the massive pink diamond on my finger and realized the silence I had lived in my whole life was about to become my most expensive prison. I had traded a life of poverty for a high-stakes game of shadows, and now I had to survive the man who claimed to own me.

The Spoiled Girl

Emily, was a just simple girl living a simple life when one day she received a call from the police that changed her entire life. Everything that happened since then was nothing short of a roller-coaster ride. She soon found out that her long-time boyfriend, Jack Newman, was cheating on her with her best friend. As if things weren’t bad enough, she accidentally ended up in Jack’s uncle’s car, where they ended up – doing it. Soon, Emily found herself in a tug-o-war between her ex, Jack and his uncle, Jacob.

Dump The Cheater, Marry The King: The Unrivaled CEO Claimed Me As Wife

When Leanna caught her fiancé in another woman's arms, she didn't cry, beg, or break. Instead, she walked straight toward the one man no one dared approach. Leanna had assumed she'd slept with her fiancé's uncle, but she soon realized the dangerously composed man was far more than what he seemed. Behind his calm gaze hid one secret identity after another. Worst of all, she had believed the rumors that he was an impotent man, until he gripped her wrist, pinned her beneath him, and declared firmly, "You will carry my child." Red-faced, Leanna answered, "Okay."

Rejected Luna, Claimed by the King

As a wolfless charity case at the Hyde Pack's celebration, my world shattered when Braydon, my supposed protector, publicly announced Katherine Parrish as his Luna, erasing me. Heartbroken, I fled into a terrifying contract marriage with Alpha King Dallas Marshall for protection. Braydon's public assault and threats forced me to reveal my secret marriage, challenging the King. My "protection" felt like a prison. Braydon revealed I was a "key" to power, not a mate, confirming my fears. Enraged by my attempt to take a morning-after pill, Dallas forced me to swallow it, then branded my lips with a furious kiss. His chilling silence hardened my resolve. I immediately drafted an addendum to our contract, setting strict boundaries to reclaim control.

He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him

The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her. Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. "Mr. Kensington," the nurse's voice cracked, "your wife... she's critical." A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. "Liam is in the shower," Seraphina's voice purred. "Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low." Then, Liam's bored voice: "If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning." Click. The line went dead. A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living. Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body. Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back.